Professional Documents
Culture Documents
1177/0032329204263070
POLITICS
EDWARD
ARTICLE
F.
& GREAVES
SOCIETY
EDWARD F. GREAVES
This paper examines the institutions for participatory governance that have been
created in Chile through a case study of Huechuraba, a low income municipality in
the Santiago metropolitan area. The case of Huechuraba suggests that in certain
contexts, the meetings that take place between government officials and grassroots
organizations can become a forum for the state to colonize public space and bolster
the hegemony of the status quo by establishing the parameters of citizenship.
Humanity does not gradually progress from combat to combat until it arrives at universal
reciprocity, where the rule of law finally re-places warfare; humanity instills each of its
violences in a system of rules and thus proceeds from domination to domination.1
INTRODUCTION
An additional rationale for these policies is that they can be a vehicle for bypass-
ing and/or undermining authoritarian enclaves—provisions designed to freeze
the status quo in place— left behind by pacted transitions. In Chile, Brazil,
Bolivia, Venezuela, Mexico, and Argentina, significant efforts have been made to
turn local government into a space where more robust citizenship practices can be
fomented through popular participation. 3
This paper examines participatory governance in Chile through the prism of
community development meetings between municipal officials and grassroots
community leaders in Huechuraba, a low income municipality in the
metropolitan region of Santiago. The Chilean case suggests that in some spatial/
institutional contexts, participatory governance can be an instrument for the
application of the techniques of “discipline” to the arena of citizenship. That is,
participatory governance can be either transformative or hegemonic. In
transformative participatory governance, mechanisms for popular participation
act as a catalyst for the colonization of local government by grassroots organiza-
tions and for strengthening urban popular movement networks. In hegemonic
participatory governance, by contrast, these same types of mechanisms become
spaces for containing participation within certain parameters, and for
disarticulating movements. The question, then, is why in some cases participatory
governance serves to consolidate and deepen the pillars of hegemony, whereas in
other cases it can become a mechanism for the transformation of public institu-
tions—i.e. for deepening democracy.
pillar of the transition. One of the dilemmas faced by concertacion leaders has
been how to “democratize democracy”: how to invite popular participation and
make government more accessible without directly challenging the pact upon
which the transition was based. It is in this context that municipalities became a
focal point of efforts to intensify popular sovereignty.
Some of the participatory mechanisms put in place in Chile at the local level
share features of a model for participation that Fung and Wright call “empowered
deliberative democracy” (EDD), which has the potential to be “radically demo-
cratic” because it encourages ordinary people to participate, to deliberate and to
act.6 EDD, it is argued, can be a vehicle for democratic deepening in part because
it can be a catalyst for the colonization of state power and the transformation of
governance institutions.7 That is, EDD can be an incubator for what Barber calls
strong democracy—”self government by citizens rather than representative gov-
ernment in the name of citizens”8—by extending democratic, grassroots practices
and control into the interstices of the state where bureaucratic, hierarchical and/or
authoritarian modes have generally prevailed. Forums for participatory gover-
nance in Chile share several characteristics of empowered participatory gover-
nance (EPG): they have a practical orientation geared toward involving ordinary
citizens in bottom-up participation and encouraging deliberation and collective
action. One of the cornerstones of EPG is that it provides a forum to “colonize
state power and transform formal governance institutions.”9
EPG evokes a certain counterhegemonic logic because it describes a dynamic
process where grassroots organizations not only solve tangible local problems,
but in the process also act to colonize and define the arena itself—i.e. to deepen
the scope and purview of their role in local government and to build strong
democracy at the local level:
The logic of deepening democracy is one of intensifying popular sovereignty in the politi-
cal sphere, that is, moving from hierarchical forms of elitist or bureaucratic control to
forms of popular self-determination by means of more direct participation in the decision-
making process.10
Ideally, then, participatory governance should not only deepen democracy at the
local level, but should also contribute to an extension of democratic practices to
other spheres of the political and the economic. That is, participatory governance
should be the beginning of a broader transformative process, and not a self-
contained cul-de-sac that acts as a bulwark against further change.
municipal officials often used the lack of autonomy and capacity as an explana-
tion for inability to solve many of the problems facing the community.
Because Chile’s municipalities are deeply enmeshed within (and dependent
on) a broader ensemble of state institutions, the Chilean state has a greater capac-
ity to oversee and influence the activities that take place within the municipalities.
Municipal officials, furthermore, are embedded within a network of state
policymakers, bureaucrats, and representatives of NGOs—many of whom have a
stake in maintaining the status quo—making them unlikely allies in attempts to
radically transform the dynamics of local governance. These types of linkages to
the center undermine the potential of participatory governance because it places
constraints and limitations on the ability of local officials to act as autonomous
vehicles for intensifying popular sovereignty at the local level.
(2) In Chile the decentralization of popular participation, coupled with the
diminished relevance and increasing unwillingness of political parties to act as
vehicles of movement cohesion and mobilization, have been important factors in
diminishing the capacity of popular movements to act as harbingers of transfor-
mation, even at the local level. As grassroots organizations were invited to partici-
pate in local government, and as the linkages between these networks and party
structures became more brittle, the web-like network of organizations—coordi-
nating committees, umbrella federations, etc.—that linked popular organizations
across the periphery of Santiago, have withered on the vine.17 These associational
networks, however, were the nerve center of an emerging subaltern counter-
public, where “subordinated social groups invent and circulate counterdiscourses
to formulate oppositional interpretations of their identities, interests, and
needs.”18 In the context of a center with limited access, where participation is
organized around the municipality, and where there is no vehicle for mobilization,
the incentive to maintain these broader associational networks is diminished.
Thus, the logic of decentralization has been to fragment movement networks into
discrete, localized struggles that lack coherence and that can be more easily
absorbed. In this context, local participation has had an important (yet often
underestimated) “dispersal effect.”
In the case of Porto Alegre, despite obstacles that it may have confronted, the
Brazilian Workers Party (PT), has been able to serve at the local level as a connec-
tive mobilizing structure around which organizations committed to expanding
participatory democracy can converge to create a subaltern counterpublic, and to
take an active role in defining and shaping the spaces of participatory governance.
The PT is a party that since its inception has been committed to developing and
implementing radical grassroots democratic practices.19 Because the PT is less
bureaucratized and nurtures a bottom-up participatory organizational structure,
the party leadership is “directly tied through a pyramid of mediations to the grass-
roots base” giving the PT a “marked capacity for unified action.”20 The PT, in
short, “reinforces the organizational capacity of social movements” and provides
a mobilizing structure and a space where a public can emerge. As Keck has
argued, at the local level the PT has attempted to “transform individual demands
for assistance into collective demands for urban improvements as social rights.”21
The effort to transform the nature of demands can be seen in the PT’s ability to
build a political coalition in Porto Alegre around the issue of participatory budget-
ing in a way that redefined demands and that gained the support of neighborhood
organizations that had previously been supporters of clientelist political parties.22
(3) Grassroots associations in Huechuraba have less juridical power over bud-
getary and other matters than in Porto Alegre. In Porto Alegre, an elected Munici-
pal Council of the Budget, made up of representatives of grassroots organizations,
“proposes and approves a municipal budget in conjunction with members of the
(municipal) administration.”23 Moreover, a new Brazilian constitution, created in
1988 after the military left power has defined and legitimized new spaces for par-
ticipation that has been important in shaping the contours of the Porto Alegre
experiment.24 Brazil’s constitution gives municipalities significantly more auton-
omy—both financially and in terms of the policies that they can implement.25 By
contrast, in Huechuraba the mechanisms created to empower grassroots associa-
tions vis a vis municipal officials were significantly weaker. In the relationship
between the CESCOs and the municipality, it is the municipal council and the
mayor that have generally had the upper hand: the role of CESCOs has been lim-
ited to rendering an “opinion” on the municipal budget and other planning issues.
CESCOs, then, have no legal basis for making authoritative and binding
decisions.26
(4) The role played by local officials is important. Transformations in gover-
nance generally happen “in close cooperation with state agents.”27 Elected offi-
cials and bureaucrats within institutions of governance and political party struc-
tures can act in ways that can enable or diminish the transformative potential of
EPG. The views expressed and actions taken by municipal officials in
Huechuraba point to the importance of government officials in shaping the struc-
ture and dynamics of participatory governance.
Municipal officials in Huechuraba saw engagement with the community as a
chance to accomplish two objectives: first, to solicit the opinion of community
leaders on local issues, mainly on questions concerning local community devel-
opment. Officials saw these meetings as a chance to interact with community
leaders in order to gain a better understanding of the social terrain of the commu-
nity. Thus, one objective was to make the poblaciones of the community more vis-
ible and knowable, which can facilitate social control.
A second objective reflected the role of the municipality as envisioned in the
discourse of policymakers in the concertacion: to encourage the development of
civic habits and to create spaces for popular participation—that did not over-
whelm the system or challenge the status quo. This reading of the role of the
municipality was echoed by local officials, who saw engagement with the com-
munity as a chance to change the political culture of participants. Municipal offi-
Here the dirigentes get an opportunity to work with the municipal government and to learn
how to participate in democracy. They learn how to work with the authorities of the munici-
pality to improve the community and to exercise their rights as citizens.29
Encounters between municipal officials and the organized community were seen
by DIDECO officials as an arena for teaching citizenship and participation.
Nevertheless, DIDECO officials generally did not view citizen participation as
a vehicle for radically transforming the municipality. Key tenets of strong democ-
racy, such as the idea of direct control over major areas of municipal policy by
popular grassroots associations was out of the question, in part because such mod-
els violated existing legality and in part because—as one member of the munici-
pal council put it—“these people cannot be trusted with such important deci-
sions.” Elected municipal officials were also reluctant to give grassroots
associations a wider latitude in municipal decisionmaking because they viewed
neighborhood council leaders as potential rivals for elective office. Indeed, since
they were first created in 1968, neighborhood councils (juntas de vecino) have
been viewed by elected municipal officials as institutional rivals for power within
the comuna.
Municipal officials resorted to a variety of strategies to attempt to contain and
manage potential points of antagonism. In an effort to isolate the more militant
leaders, municipal officials built a network of relationships with moderate organi-
zations. In doing this, municipal officials established a bulwark against potential
troublemakers, depriving militant dirigentes of potential allies, thus requiring
them to moderate their demands and their behavior.30 The demands articulated by
the more militant associational leaders—which in terms of participation paral-
leled many of the goals of EPG—were seen by municipal officials as too radical
and as a threat to existing democracy.31 Isolating and containing the more militant
leaders has had a ripple effect on the internal dynamics of participatory gover-
nance because it allowed municipal officials to work with moderates in the com-
munity to build what could be described as a local hegemonic bloc that would take
the lead in shaping the parameters of participatory governance.
In Porto Alegre, the practices of participatory governance were shaped in the
context of a municipal government where the presence of the PT was strong. PT
officials imagined popular participation in ways that are more consistent with
strong democracy and that stress grassroots decisionmaking.32 The PT, moreover,
facilitates grassroots transformation from below and provides a catalyst for inten-
sifying popular sovereignty through its internal structures and practices (which
Municipalities in Chile do not have the autonomy or the resources needed to carry out their
functions as participatory spaces. As a result, municipalities have become containment
barriers that limit the demands of the community. . . . In practice, Chilean municipalities
maintain the doctrine of the dictatorship—divide in order to govern and control participa-
tion more easily.36
What do I know about what the politicians do? What can poor people like us do? They
know what is going on, and we don’t, so when they tell us something, we have to have faith
in them because we can’t understand. It is better to leave the politics to the politicians
because they know better. . . . One who is poor and doesn’t have much understanding
[criterio] cannot really know. Politics is too confusing . . . it is best not to talk about such
things.38
When consideration is taken of the fact that this council leader was an active par-
ticipant in the mechanisms of participatory governance created by the municipal-
ity, such comments place in even sharper relief the insulation of local participa-
tory spaces from the broader political sphere—which can only serve to reinforce
the kinds of hierarchical relationships that participatory governance seeks to
overcome.
Yet this same leader later followed up on her comments by making a point
which suggests that beneath what would seem to be a lack of understanding of,
and an aversion to politics is the existence of an alternative vision of democracy:
There is no justice today . . . things didn’t change after Pinochet left power, so how can they
say that there is democracy? If there were democracy, then there would be justice for the
poor and the government would be for us, not just for the rich. This is what real democracy
is . . . government for the people, where people really have power to decide things.
n Percentage
No 592 59.1
Yes 392 32.7
Don’t know 82 8.2
Total 1,066
The primary complaint of respondents was that little had really changed since
the 1989-90 transition to democracy. Whatever it is that democracy may be, then,
the institutions in place in Chile in 1999-2000 did not conform to their under-
standing of full democracy.
municipal officials to control the process. This enabled officials to shape the con-
tours of participatory governance.
If one crucial element of radical democracy is the “ability to imagine alterna-
tive worlds,”41 a second and equally important dimension hinges on the ability to
project these alternative visions into the public space, and to put them on the
agenda. It is through public talk and deliberation that alternative realities, and
strategies for getting there, can be imagined and elaborated into a fuller discursive
framework. In the absence of public discussions, the popular democratic imagi-
nary can be left to wither on the vine as some unattainable fantasy. Alternative
projects can remain, as Gramsci noted, “embryonic and contradictory,” which
“does not permit any action, any decision or choice.”42
The dynamics of the interface between municipality and community, where
the practices of participatory governance are shaped, illustrate how the delibera-
tive dimension of participation can become a “containment barrier” that keeps the
popular democratic imaginary on the margins of public space. Encounters
between municipality and community helped to keep the popular democratic
imaginary on the margins of public space—to ensure that alternative understand-
ings of democracy and citizenship remained confined to the realm of subjugated
knowledge: “a whole set of knowledges that have been disqualified as inadequate
to their task or insufficiently elaborated.”43 These spaces were used as a forum for
marketing a vision of citizenship and civic participation, where participation was
defined and deliberation was managed in ways that limited the domain of citizen-
ship. In short, a space for citizenship was created that encouraged participation,
while acting—as the Huechuraba report put it—as a “containment barrier.”
In Chile, spaces created with the objective of encouraging citizen participation
and deliberation have been a midwife to a style of participation whose salient fea-
tures are its limited scope and a relative absence of public political discussions
and debates. Indeed, a civic etiquette44—a set of unwritten codes and rules that
establish a routinized pattern of interactions and that frame the parameters of dia-
logue between municipality and the community—set the parameters for meetings
between government officials and the community, acting as a further restraint on
the scope of discussions.
One of the informal rules that underpinned—and limited—the scope of public
deliberation is that political talk (i.e. talk that projects the popular democratic
imaginary into the public domain or that challenges the status quo) is taboo: those
who do so are seen as troublemakers and radicals who are a threat to Chile’s
democracy. These constraints, however, violate one of the crucial requisites of
strong democracy: the absence of preconceptual frames that limit the range of dis-
cussions and solutions.45
The premium placed on politeness, civility, and on sidestepping contentious
issues helped municipal officials maintain existing relationships of power and
disarmed people of their ability to create and frame the context of public life. The
social dynamics could be very disarming: shortly before one meeting, a council
leader angrily told me how he planned to be very tough in his questioning of
DIDECO and SECPLAC officials concerning cuts in the fund for community
development (Fondo de Desarrollo Vecinal [FONDEVE]). Yet, at the meeting, he
was polite and deferential: he asked a question about the FONDEVE, and was told
that due to the recession, the FONDEVE had to be curtailed because “we all have
to tighten our belts.”
Municipal officials, then, were able to act in the context of a favorable power
balance created by the broader institutional/structural context, to use the authority
of office and control over material, juridical, and symbolic resources to frame the
parameters of deliberation in ways that kept alternative understandings of democ-
racy on the margins of public space. Issues such as the poor state of the primary
care clinic, the lack of medicines, the lack of services, and shoddy public housing
were discussed in isolation from a broader political matrix—the matrix of social
citizenship rights—to which they could be linked to advance social democracy.
Meetings also framed the parameters of participation in terms of how citizens
could organize locally to address social problems—without significantly trans-
forming public institutions or challenging the status quo—thus undermining one
of the core objectives of participatory governance.
You know that every year, the municipality distributes community development funds, and
it is up to the citizens of the comuna to democratically decide how to spend these funds. At
this meeting we will begin to make decisions on how to use community development funds
to benefit Huechuraba.
Thus, from the beginning of the meeting, the purpose of the dialogue between the
municipality and the organized community had been narrowed and the parame-
ters of discussion and conversation had been established by the representatives of
DIDECO. Instead of being an open-ended discussion about the future of the
comuna, then, limits were established that ensured that many issues that con-
cerned the dirigentes would remain off the table—thus circumscribing the
domain of popular participation. Limiting the discussions and deliberations at the
meeting to the issue of how to spend the FONDEVE funds left a whole range of
potentially contentious issues unexplored and narrowed the domain of the public
sphere. In order to keep these issues off the agenda, municipal officials from the
outset defined meetings as “nonpolitical” (apolitico), where real questions—not
politics—would be addressed.
More important, however, was the dynamics involved in defining the parame-
ters of popular participation: the role of grassroots organizations was essentially
to select from a menu of prearranged choices. Meetings were not about engaging
municipal officials in public minded and politicized debate about the future of
Huechuraba, or to question municipal or state policy—or policymaking styles—
in any substantive way. The objective was to focus on “close to home”47 issues and
eschew broader political debates in favor of developing solutions—in the form of
projects (proyectos)—that citizens themselves could readily implement and that
would contribute to developing civic communities.
The tangible questions that were decided by the participants are relevant issues
that have a measurable impact on the welfare of citizens, and that constitute the
essence of a local politics. Deliberations over whether to refurbish a park or to put
in more street lights are indeed at the core of a local politics, and are essential to
active citizenship. The problem, however, is that in the context of Chile’s institu-
tional matrix, participatory governance acted to contain popular participation
within the conceptual space of the limited forms of participation envisioned in lib-
eral democracy, thus stunting its transformative potential. Because grassroots
organizational leaders confronted municipal officials as fragmented entities that
lacked cohesiveness, it would be DIDECO officials who would take the lead in
Our reward for good behavior (i.e. not challenging the status quo) is getting to decide
whether we want to spend FONDEVE money on a soccer field or a park . . . this is the way
they want it because it keeps everyone quiet and makes their job easier.
Here you as citizens of Huechuraba will decide what is best for Huechuraba. This is what
living in a democracy is about. You will decide how the government does things.
Municipal officials, as Luzmenia would later tell me, used the existence of the
campamento as a political tool in their strategy of “divide and conquer” vis-à-vis
the rest of Huechuraba’s communities. By arguing that the campamento was
threatening to divert resources that would otherwise be used for “legitimate” com-
munities, the municipality helped sow the seeds of division between the
campamento and the rest of the community (many of which had themselves
begun as campamentos in the late 1960s). Indeed, several community leaders that
I spoke to about the campamento resented the presence of the campamento in the
comuna and saw the leaders of the campamento as troublemakers who would sap
the resources of the rest of the legitimate communities of Huechuraba. Some even
referred to them in class terms as “people of low class” (gente de mala clase).
Following the video presentation, the assistant director of DIDECO asked the
participants to identify five issues that were of greatest concern to the community.
She cautioned them, however, that
the first step in being an effective dirigente, is to identify the problems that most concern
the community and that you can realistically handle . . . remember we have only a limited
amount of money to spend and we must decide how to spend it democratically.
The first step in the process of exercising effective citizenship, then, involved a
tacit acceptance of the premise that the ability of the state to solve problems is
limited.
Each participant was then asked to write down two or three issues that most
concerned him/her. This was followed by a period of deliberation and discussion
about the issues that had been chosen as the most pressing problems facing the
community.
After some deliberation and with some guidance and input from municipal
social workers, the dirigentes came up with five general issues that were of great-
est concern to them: crime/drugs, welfare services, the environment, health care,
and education.
After a consensus was reached concerning which five issues were most impor-
tant, community leaders were divided into five task groups (grupos de trabajo),
each of which was charged with responsibility for focusing on one of these spe-
cific issues, and to come up with a set of proposals to solve the problem. Each
group sat in a small semicircle and had a social worker working with them to assist
them in coming up with solutions. The social worker carefully guided the discus-
sion so that the proposals that were developed were realistic and relevant to the
issue. Whenever deliberation about an issue delved into the realm of the political,
social workers guided the discussion back into the space of neoliberal citizenship.
Whenever someone framed problems in a way that politicized the issue, they were
treated by municipal officials as whiners and malcontents who engaged in fruit-
less chatter, because—as one official later told me—“these problems have no
issues up at the meeting, their projects might not get funded. Bluntly put, “if
someone makes waves, their poblacion might not get the project that they
requested.”
I then sat with the group that was charged with health care issues. This, I
thought, would be an area where there would be some discussion because one of
the persistent demands of poblador health care committees has for the state to
take more responsibility for health care. Health care is widely seen as a key
responsibility of the state, and as a fundamental social citizenship right. Yet, not
one of the proposals had anything to do with the state’s role in health care or with
the rights of citizens to health care: one proposal called for the consultorio50 in
Huechuraba to be open for more hours during the week. Another proposal sug-
gested that money be spent on a van to go to different communities in the munici-
pality and vaccinate children. Yet, another proposal called for funding exercise
classes so that people could participate in community gym classes. All of these
proposals were not controversial and did not challenge the neoliberal
“consensus.”
When one participant proposed that the government devote more money to
FONASA—the state health care system—in order to make more medicines avail-
able in the consultorio, she was told by the DIDECO social worker that was mod-
erating her group that the PLADECO was not the place to decide questions about
national health care spending. This was a question for planners in the Ministry of
Health to decide. The purpose of PLADECO was to see how community associa-
tions, using the resources available, could make a tangible difference in the com-
munity through citizen participation. The way to influence the decisions made by
the Ministry of Health was to vote or to submit a petition to the ministry. The sug-
gestion—as the woman who made the suggestion for increased funding for health
care later recognized—was that citizens really did not have a role to play (save for
voting in elections or writing petitions) in deciding these broader issues. Because
nobody else spoke out in support of the suggestion made by the lone “dissenter,”
her suggestion seemed out of place and improper.
When I later asked Luzmenia why these broader concerns in the areas of the
environment and health care had not been brought up, she pointed out that “they
[the municipality] can’t solve these problems . . . they will simply tell us that the
municipality can’t solve these questions, and that we should deal with what can be
solved.” She then went on to point out how a few years ago they had gone to the
municipality to demand improvements in public housing programs only to be told
to go the ministry of housing to seek a solution to the problem. These sentiments
were echoed by other council leaders who were at the PLADECO meeting. Thus,
while the municipality is accessible and allows for popular participation, the areas
over which it has scope still remain limited, which also serves to limit the impact
that groups can have vis-à-vis the municipality.
Almond and Verba have suggested that local government may be a propitious
space for the development of citizenship by acting as a “training ground for civic
competence.”51 Certain forms of participation, however, can contribute to a
shrinking of the public sphere.52 In Huechuraba, DIDECO officials encouraged
community leaders to focus on achieving tangible objectives and to eschew
potentially divisive and contentious political discussions (i.e. to divorce participa-
tion from politics and to located it at the level of the particular). Political talk
(pejoratively referred to by officials as “politiqueria”) was defined as an obstacle
to getting things done and its absence is associated with achieving objectives.
There are advantages to focusing on tangible objectives: focusing on “getting
things done” and eschewing politicized debate can provide a sense of empower-
ment because real things are accomplished—a new community center is built, a
plaza is refurbished, or a new sports facility is built. Yet, these accomplishments
can also bolster hegemony because they provide visible support for the argument,
advanced by municipal officials, that if only citizens organized and worked with
the municipality, with NGOs, and with state agencies such as FOSIS, everyone
would be better off. Associational leaders developed a feeling of “civic compe-
tence”—the sense that by working together, citizens can have a tangible influence
over government policies.53 Achieving tangible objectives (while sidestepping
potentially divisive and conflict-laden political issues) can give organizations a
sense of civic competence because it fosters a perception that things are getting
done and that participation produces results.
These modes of participation, however, can contribute to the crystallization of
what Eliasoph calls a “culture of political avoidance,” where participants avoid
politicized and potentially conflictual discussions in favor of achieving tangible
and feasible goals—which are often those set by power holders. These achieve-
ments often do little to transform existing institutions and may help freeze in place
current arrangements.54 Participants develop a sense that they have achieved a
measure of influence vis-à-vis the municipality precisely because they have
steered clear of confronting thornier problems. Gaining access to community
development funds (which is viewed as an indicator of influence in municipal
affairs) becomes associated with maintaining a safe distance from the machina-
tions of politics, where the rewards of participation are less certain. Thus, while a
sense of civic competence is fostered, the potential for secondary associations to
act as an agent of institutional transformation is dampened because there is a built
in incentive to avoid and act upon more critically minded talk. As one participant
put it: “it is best not to make waves [hacer olas] for the mayor and the
municipality.”
One council leader, in pointing to a newly completed “multicancha” (a
multiuse concrete field that contains a basketball court and a minisoccer field) in
her community, gave expression to these sentiments when I asked her about her
political affiliation:
No, I have no political loyalties . . . it is bad to get involved in politics . . . as you can see,
when you participate without politics you get things done for the community. All one gets
with politics is discussion, fighting, and wasting time. . . . The only time I get involved in
politics is when I vote because voting is the law. Why should I get involved in politics? . . .
We get more done without politics.55
She then went on to criticize more militant community activists—those who chal-
lenge the system—for being “too politicized” and for “creating too much con-
flict.” The point that she was making was that tangible improvements in the com-
munity did not require involvement in politics or more critical forms of
citizenship. To the contrary, avoiding politics is a sine qua non of community
development. Political questions are best left to those who know about these prob-
lems (the policymakers). In her view, improvements in the community since the
transition were to a large extent the outcome of participating in ways that ignored
contentious questions and that focused on realistic objectives—i.e. within the
domain defined by officials. Yet, when I then asked her about the extent of her
organization’s influence within the municipality, she proudly pointed to the chil-
dren that were playing on the multicancha that morning as evidence that her junta
de vecinos56 had considerable influence in the municipality and that, despite its
flaws (such as a lack of resources), the municipality listened to people who knew
how to organize and participate.
Thus, a sense of efficacy, citizen involvement, and empowerment had been
fostered while building a culture of political avoidance—which is the starting
point for a form of participation that bolsters the status quo. When council leaders
were asked the question of what participation in their organizations had accom-
plished, many pointed to a newly refurbished community center, to a basketball
court, to new street lights, or the pavement of a road as tangible evidence of the
accomplishments of the organization. Many dirigentes, then, had come to mea-
sure the success of their organizations in terms of their ability to gain access to
community development projects for their “pobla.” More importantly, these suc-
cesses hinged on not getting involved in “politiqueria.”
Thus, while creating a sense that “we are getting things done,” public minded
talk and more critical forms of citizenship that can provide the basis for appropri-
ating and defining issues is squelched in favor of pursuing what is feasible within
the parameters of citizenship in a neoliberal polyarchy—in this case community
development projects. “Los proyectos” (community development projects
funded by the state through NGOs and municipalities) have become a hallmark of
grassroots participation in postauthoritarian Chile. Indeed, in the posttransition, it
is possible to speak of a certain “projectification” of participation and citizenship:
the focal point of active citizenship is centered around activities associated with
This community center wasn’t built by politics [politiqueria], it was built because these
women worked with the municipality and FOSIS to make it a reality . . . this is what FOSIS
and the muni are all about . . . working together to make a better community.60
the overt act of exclusion, but through a form of inclusion that centered participa-
tion around a core set of activities that kept citizens on the margins of more
substantive issues.
The Chilean case suggests that in certain given contexts, mechanisms of partic-
ipatory governance can serve to deepen hegemony. Local spaces for participatory
governance are embedded within an institutional matrix that limits the possibili-
ties for intensifying popular sovereignty. Spaces for grassroots participation can
become the trenches and earthworks that insulate the broader social order from
challenge (which, as Gramsci noted, is the essence of liberal capitalist democ-
racy). They can also become spaces for the construction of a specific set of power
relationships through processes that Foucault referred to under the rubric of “dis-
cipline.”61
Discipline, observed Foucault, “makes individuals; it is a specific technique of
a power that regards individuals both as objects and as instruments of its exer-
cise.”62 Mechanisms of power, as Foucault argued, are productive—not repres-
sive. In the space of citizenship and participation, discipline does not act as an
instrument of repression, but instead, it empowers people to act in productive
ways that support the current hegemony. Discipline therefore establishes the
“constricting link between an increased aptitude and an increased domination.”63
In the arena of citizenship, the techniques that fall under the rubric of discipline
are wielded in the service of the project of attempting to foster habits of citizen-
ship—a civic culture—that will buttress the social order. Thus, in Huechuraba
community development projects sought to empower citizens to act and to foster a
sense of civic competence (the productive dimension of power and discipline). At
the same time, however, the structures of hegemony were deepened by containing
the scope of active citizenship within the confines of these insulated spaces. In
certain contexts, the increased aptitudes that come with the learning of citizenship
skills—the ability to write petitions, to oversee the implementation of a commu-
nity development project, to work with and through the municipality, and to work
with other groups in the community—can empower citizens in ways that buttress
and perpetuate the system.
The organization and articulation of administrative space has been crucial in
shaping the parameters of participatory governance. Hegemonies are founded on
“spatial strategies of dispersal, of divide and rule, of geographical disruptions to
the forces that threaten its existence.”64 Making the municipality the focal point of
popular participation in the context of an insulated state—thus weakening the
mobilizing structures of popular movements—has been an important step in the
spatial reconfiguration of the networks that gave popular movements their vital-
ity. In a context where the vital connective tissues of popular movements tran-
scended the local, the physical/jurisdictional boundaries of the municipality cre-
ate a spatially defined administrative grid that distributes grassroots associations
and rearranges the conceptual space in which citizenship is practiced.
The space created by the municipality also has a panoptic dimension that privi-
leges such projects. Panopticism, as Foucault argued, is the primary technique
through which disciplinary power is able to function. One of the effects of bring-
ing popular movements into the municipality was an enhanced capacity to moni-
tor the activities associated with citizenship through a panoptic view of the com-
munity. In the Chilean case, then, making municipalities the focal point of popular
participation has increased state capacity in two dimensions: (1) it has allowed for
penetration and colonization of spaces that might otherwise be used for advancing
alternative projects, which has (2) enhanced the state’s ability to appropriate and
define the parameters of participatory governance in accordance with its own
agenda.
Municipal officials, particularly DIDECO officials, were the direct agents of
the disciplinary process: it was they who worked closely—on an almost everyday
basis—with grassroots leaders. Yet, it is important to note that from a broader per-
spective, municipal officials are the outermost ring of a regime of power that is
undergirded by a network of actors who work within the context of an ensemble of
institutions that articulates local officials to the existing regime of power. Popular
movements, then, do not confront the municipality as an autonomous entity that
they can capture, colonize and transform: in the Chilean context, the municipality
is the outermost trench—to use a Gramscian metaphor—of a broader series of
trenches and ditches.
Because it is deeply enmeshed within the broader structures of the state, the
municipality serves as an articulating mechanism between the state and popular
communities. The dynamic of insulation at the center, access at the periphery, and
popular movement fragmentation, has accomplished two seemingly contradic-
tory objectives: it has allowed the Chilean state to more deeply embed itself within
the social matrix of the poblacion, while at the same time further insulating itself
from the latent forces contained within these spaces. Thus, the institutional frame-
work constitutes at once a spatially defined administrative unit that compartmen-
talizes popular movement networks, while also articulating the narrow pasajes
(streets) of popular communities to the state as atomized entities.
While organizational leaders were able to mount local defensive efforts to con-
test these parameters (indeed, municipal-community relations were characterized
by an ongoing low intensity struggle) contestation took place within institutions
whose outer parameters were defined by a hegemonic bloc of actors. In the
absence of coherent mobilizing structures and subaltern counterpublics—where
alternative projects can be nurtured and acted upon—the ability to act to expand
and intensify popular sovereignty in Chile will remain confined and fragmented.
NOTES