 PAPERS
The Suit Behind the Uniform: An Evil Partnership
by Nancy Caro Hollander, Ph.D.
Nancy Caro Hollander, Ph.D., is Professor of Latin American History at California State University, Dominguez Hills, and a research psychoanalyst in private practice in Los Angeles. She has published numerous articles and books on Latin American authoritarian regimes, including Love in a Time of Hate: Liberation Psychology in Latin America (Rutgers University Press, 1997).
"To be silent in the face of injustice is to be an accomplice to evil. I will not be silent."
- Lori Berenson 1
Introduction
This paper will consider the idea of evil as a core element in the United States-supported authoritarian cultures that ruled throughout Latin America from the 1960s through the 1980s. It will also indicate their legacy in the contemporary corporate globalization agenda that today assaults basic human rights, working people's standards of living, and the natural environment.
As I write, the media announce that Augusto Pinochet, the former dictator of Chile, has been declared medically unsound to stand trial for crimes against humanity and has been permitted to return to his native land. The media's sympathetic depictions of this tyrant as a weak and disoriented old man happy to be free enrage me. Vivid memories flood my mind of General Pinochet in the prime of his life, the grandiose military chief who led the 1973 coup that toppled the elected government of Dr. Salvador Allende. I recall his arrogantly delivered military directives that imposed on the citizens of his historically democratic country one of the worst terrorist states in Latin America. At the time of the coup in Chile, I was a young historian living and working in neighboring Argentina, and so knew many Chileans who crossed the Andes to flee into exile. They found themselves in a country, however, that was already under the sway of repressive military and paramilitary forces moving Argentina inexorably toward its own disastrous coup that would launch the infamous "dirty war" against the civilian population. Although I returned to the US a year before the 1976 coup, I knew many people-dear friends, close colleagues, respected progressive activists-who were disappeared, most of whom were killed.
In the late seventies and early eighties, I interviewed Argentine and Chilean political refugees living in Europe who had miraculously survived their capture and torture. They described unbelievably brutal assaults on their bodies and psyches. They recounted in minute detail the cruelty, sadism, and violent attacks to which they had been subjected by the armed forces, death squads, government bureaucrats, and the torturers whose "work" was assisted by complicit medical and psychological consultants. The weapons included a variety of torture strategies and specialized torture equipment created by US and Latin American experts who had employed rational scientific methodology to develop sophisticated ways of destroying human beings.
These testimonies brought me into contact with the most intimate individual experience of the violent clash of political forces and presented me with the awful truth of how those I had known and loved had died, alongside thousands like them. As I rethink the devastation I felt listening to the testimonies of these torture survivors, it seems to me now that I was responding to the indisputable evidence of evil in the psychology and actions of the perpetrators and in the system that created them.
Indeed, I would like to argue in this paper that state terror and its aftermath represent a prime example of evil in the contemporary world. But the real evil is complex and illusive, precisely because it is so institutionalized: beyond the manifest expression of the destructiveness of the military regimes and their legacy in the current period is a complex latent reality composed of international and national political alliances that have imposed an economic system aimed at preserving wealth and privilege for the few while condemning the majority of Latin Americans to powerlessness and poverty. Behind the Latin American military uniform that is the metaphor for extreme cruelty and destructiveness exists the multinational business suit, a symbol of the civilian power elites of both the United States and Latin America who have been equal perpetrators in the violent attack on anyone or anything that appears to threaten their hegemony.
Psychoanalysis and evil
Can psychoanalysis shed light on the psychological domain of institutionalized evil that I wish to explore in this paper? My impression is that, by and large, when many psychoanalysts use the term evil in their descriptions of individual or group behavior, they frequently do so as a synonym for extreme cruelty, violence, and destructiveness. So does psychoanalysis offer insight into the sources of evil or the bases of human destructiveness? One key lies in the conceptualization of aggression. In his final years, Freud (1938), responding in part to the omnipresence of violence in the world, was led to postulate an innate destructive impulse that he called the death instinct, which he believed competed with the life instinct for hegemonic expression in the human psyche. Since then, psychoanalysts have been theorizing about the nature and origins of aggression, which is seen to be the source of the potential for destructive violence. While many psychoanalysts in succeeding generations have not accepted the idea of a death instinct or drive, a dialogue has emerged between those who, on the one hand, believe in the primacy of innate aggression as a force that may be destructively mobilized against the self or outward against others and those psychoanalysts who, on the other hand, see aggression as a response to deprivations and frustrations in the environment. In this latter perspective, aggression is viewed as a defensive response to inevitable psychic trauma, breaks in attunement, and narcissistic injury in early infant/parental relations. Violence toward self or object has also been understood as an attempt to eradicate intolerable psychic experience that cannot be mentalized.2
I am persuaded by the Kleinian and post-Kleinian perspective that aggressive impulses of human beings are inborn and that they are fated to be destructively or constructively accentuated, depending on the existence and nature of container/contained relationships from the beginning of life and reinforced throughout the life cycle by the social environment. This psychoanalytic vision of human beings postulates that with the existence of environmental provisions that facilitate the integration and resolution of primitive aggressive emotions-such as envy, greed, and hate-individuals are able to achieve the capacity for reparative guilt and concern for the well-being of others. As Michael Rustin (1991) suggests, the Kleinian view is an essentially social and moral one in that human beings have the potential to achieve the maturational capacity for the "positive" emotions that form the basis of love, concern, and responsibility for others.
I postulate that evil may be interpreted as any force that attacks the creation and preservation of an environment that can nurture these "positive" emotions. I agree with psychoanalyst Stephen Diamond's definition of evil in these terms as "those attitudes and behaviors that promote excessive interpersonal aggression, cruelty, hostility, disregard for the integrity of others, self-destructiveness, psychopathology, and human misery in general" (1996, p. 57). Psychologist Erwin Staub (1989) concurs that the essence of evil is "the destruction of human beings," which "includes not only killing, but the creation of conditions that compromise people's dignity, happiness and their ability to fulfill basic material needs" (p. 25).
These definitions of evil certainly characterize life for the majority of Latin Americans living in terrorist regimes and under the constitutionally elected governments that succeeded them. The dominant groups responsible for implementing politically repressive conditions have acted in their class interest, facilitated by psychological states of denial as to the real nature and goal of their policies. As we shall see, their ideological views show how, from a Kleinian perspective, they operate in the paranoid-schizoid mode, characterized by mechanisms of denial, splitting, projection, and the inability to recognize their own aggression or to experience guilt, mourning, and reparation. Hanna Segal (1987) points out that these defense mechanisms are apt to be increased in groups, which "tend to be narcissistic, self-idealizing, and paranoid in relation to other groups" (p. 4). She suggests that cycles of hatred and fear can be seen in public life as well as in individuals, when primitive defenses of denial shield the group from knowing about the reality of its own aggression, which of necessity is projected into an enemy-real or imagined-so that it can be dehumanized, held in contempt, and then attacked.
The groups this paper examines are the elites of the United States and Latin America who have acted in what Wilford Bion (1959) calls "basic assumption" types of group behavior, based on omnipotent fantasies and the avoidance of the pain of recognizing reality. In this case, reality entails the imposition of acute and chronic traumategenic conditions that have affected millions of people who survived state terror and now live in its devastating aftermath. I believe that the excessive anxieties that, according to Bion, drive this type of basic assumption group dynamic, which I see as characteristic of the dominant classes, are rooted in their position within the never-ending competitive struggle for economic and political hegemony characteristic of capitalism as it has evolved in Latin America.3
Latin America: A history of violence
State terror in the last quarter of the 20th century has been but the latest chapter in a centuries-long tradition of violence in Latin America, rooted in imperialism and neocolonialism, ongoing struggles between the classes, clashes between different world views and ideologies, and repeated incidents of cultural and political genocidal campaigns waged against those who challenged the inequitable social and economic structures (see, for example, Galeano, 1973). The systemic violence that has been imposed by the ruling classes has been justified by their dehumanization of oppressed classes and races, while the revolutionary violence organized by groups seeking a radical change in the social order, often based on attitudes of love, concern, and responsibility for others, has represented an aggressive response to traumatic deprivation and frustration. It could be argued that five centuries of resistance to closing the enormous gap between the haves and the have-nots characteristic of capitalism in Latin America have created an environment in which the greed of the dominating classes and the unavoidable envy of the subordinated classes represent the inevitable pull to paranoid-schizoid ways of managing inequality and oppression.
US policy toward Latin America
Omnipotent strivings and primitive defenses of projection, splitting, and dissociation have also characterized United States policy toward Latin America. Since the mid-19th century, a rapidly industrializing United States sought expanding markets and raw materials in Latin America. The Euro-Americans, who composed the corporate and governmental elites, viewed Latin Americans in racist stereotypes, reflecting the same process of dehumanization that had legitimized their exploitative attitudes and treatment of non-European racial groups in this country. Characterized by a kind of narcissistic grandiosity born of their successful position at the helm of one of the world's most powerful and aggressive capitalist economies, they energetically devised a foreign policy to extend their political and economic influence throughout Latin America. The ideology of "Manifest Destiny" depicted Latin Americans as dark-skinned, mixed-blood peoples, naturally unruly childlike creatures who needed the US to intervene in their internal affairs to "help" them put their houses in order: "God has marked the American people as His chosen nation to finally lead to the regeneration of the world. . . .We are trustees of the world's progress, guardians of its righteous peace" (Burns, 1972, p.173).
Although over time the linguistic representations of Latin America gradually grew more subtle and sophisticated, the ideological justifications for US action have nonetheless continually revealed primitive splitting into good and bad, with the projection of all that is bad onto Latin Americans. As Michael Rustin (1991) points out, the vilification by dominant groups of the objects of exploitation allows the self to perceive itself as wholly good. "The most active process . . . is the projection of negative, repressed, or inaccessible aspects of the individual and social self. Cultures of domination, founded on greed, cruelty, and exploitation of weakness, will have many such hateful states of mind to get rid of somewhere" (p. 66). So, for example, the US government and corporate leaders have consistently depicted this country as a force for "political stability," while the Latin Americans have been portrayed as constitutionally unable to achieve stable electoral governments without the intervention of their northern neighbor (Black, 1988).
This country has always represented itself as the defender of "democracy," even while repeatedly overthrowing elected reformist governments it has seen as antithetical to its interests. The US has portrayed its investments in the region as necessary for economic development, even in the face of the reality of the region's increasing dependency and indebtedness: for every dollar invested in Latin America, ten have been exported in profits and interest payments on loans and patents. US investments have also drained the region's natural resources and produced cheap commodities based on low wage labor. Moreover, the linguistic constructions with which US foreign policy has been articulated have guaranteed a disinformed, thus acquiescent, public in this country who wind up playing the role of bystander to the cruel violations of human rights perpetrated by their government in Latin America: in Bion's terms, US ideological views have constituted an attack on knowledge, which he saw as a particular aspect of malfunction and perversion, a social pathology "taking the form sometimes of lies (minus K) or of total refusal to enter the treacherous field of communication through language" (quoted in Rustin, 1991, p. 66; by "minus K" Bion means the mind's inability to know, to utilize relationship to others to create meaning, to be able to tolerate the recognition of reality and its limits).
On the eve of the Cold War, anti-communism became the fundamental code for the continued "minus K" quality of US policy in Latin America. The Doctrine of National Security was designed in Washington to protect the capitalist order throughout the Americas from "internal and external threats to stability." The Doctrine cynically and knowingly misrepresented any threat to the status quo, including nationalist and reformist governments that tried to institute progressive welfare-state versions of capitalism, as "evil" godless communism, and repeatedly assumed the right to militarily overthrow such efforts at political reformism. After the Cuban Revolution, US counterinsurgency programs multiplied, and "subversives" were defined to include anyone or any group whose aims were considered "inconvenient" to the existing system. By the late sixties and seventies, the inconvenient included peasant cooperatives, urban labor unions, Christian social justice communities, women's neighborhood and civic organizations, university and high school movements, and professional associations that sought redistribution of political and economic power. US military, special forces, and CIA operatives ideologically educated and militarily trained and armed thousands of their Latin American counterparts, preparing many of the generals and their armed forces who led the wave of coups that ushered in the era of state terror. Thus the chronic conditions in Latin America that I am characterizing as evil would become acute in nature, with the express aim of attacking the psychic and physical integrity of millions of Latin Americans.
From the 1960s through the 1980s, the terrorist states imposed brutal cultures of fear with the goal of eliminating all opposition to prevailing inequities. By disappearing, torturing, and murdering tens of thousands of men, women, and children, including many individuals with no history of civic activism at all, these authoritarian governments sought to terrorize entire populations into silence and isolation. As the military Governor of Buenos Aires province summed up the goal of this era of political repression throughout Latin America: "First, we are going to kill all of the subversives; then their collaborators; then their sympathizers; then the indifferent; and finally, the timid" (Hollander, 1997, p. 79). The terrorist states' culture of fear created a pathogenic environment whose hegemonic discourse reflected primitive divisions of the world into good and bad, loyalists and "subversives." Its central symbols-the disappeared, the tortured, and the murdered-represented an assault on the individual citizen's sense of going-on-being. The violently polarized environment induced in a frightened population a regression to primitive states of mind associated with the paranoid-schizoid position and the mobilization of unconscious defenses to ward off annihilation anxiety, including splitting, dissociation, projective identification, and identification with the aggressor (Hollander, 1998).
However, the full development of paranoid-schizoid trends characterized those who designed and implemented the politics of terror. The symbols and rituals of authoritarian rule reflected splitting of the world into good and evil-Western Civilization vs. "subversion;" the projection of everything bad onto a hated object (the "subversive") with the consequent need to control it for fear of being controlled by it; and an infantile omnipotence that promoted an all-out attack on free inquiry and political difference, with a corresponding incapacity for empathy.
The traumategenic culture of fear, evil in intent and effect, succeeded in eradicating oppositional movements and any hope that an alternative to the prevailing system could exist. According to Argentine Hebe de Bonafini, president of the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo, "The tortures, the murder, the genocide, were for one thing only: to apply an economic plan that would bring misery to the majority of the people. . . . Economic repression is the strongest form of repression. . . ." (quoted in Hollander, 1997, p. 205). In other words, behind the massive attack on human rights carried out by armed military and paramilitary forces throughout Latin America exist the corporate and governmental elites who oversee the agenda. Behind the military uniform lurks the business suit, armed with capital and a psychic structure that enables the violent imposition of law and order politics, whether in military dictatorship or civilian governments.
From the 1980s on, civilian governments have overseen the emergence of cultures of impunity within the corporate globalization agenda, not only in the sense that the former military officers and torturers, never having acknowledged their crimes, walk freely among their victim/survivors, but also because the misery, exploitation, and poverty of the majority of Latin Americans are constantly intensified. While the corporate media and US government proclaim that corporate globalization brings progress and economic advantages to all, the latent reality shows gross and increasing disparities with respect to the benefits both among countries and among social classes within countries. Transnational corporations are growing in size and concentrating their capital to such an extent that they frequently represent more concentrated wealth than sovereign nations. For example, the gross domestic products of the following Latin American countries and the market capitalizations of the following US based transnational corporations are approximately equal: Argentina and Wal-Mart Stores ($296 billion); Chile and Oracle ($121 billion); Colombia and IBM ($201 billion); Jamaica and Phone.com ($8 billion); and Cuba and Juniper Networks ($16 billion) (Morgenson, 1999).
Moreover, an ever-increasing gap is growing between the wealthy and the middle and working classes in Latin America. International financial and corporate interests enjoy continually rising profits alongside millions of workers and peasants who are unemployed, robbed of their traditional sources of livelihood, malnourished, and victims of ongoing human rights abuses. Even a recent article in the Wall Street Journal captures this contradictory reality when it reports that "macroeconomic statistics are great, the growth rate is going up, inflation is down, but starvation is getting worse, people don't have jobs, and the majority are suffering bitterly."4 Several years ago a UNICEF study concluded that the most numerous group among the poor are children from five to 14 years of age. Poor children tend to have no medical attention, no basic care; they tend to lack education and live in subhuman conditions, many in the streets, abandoned and at risk of assassination by death squads and drug lords. This reality represents a new form of torture, a new form of disappearance. Indeed, "The new disappeared of the 1990s are the poor," says one Argentine social scientist, "and the majority of them are children. These are the victims of democracy. . . ." (quoted in Hollander, 1997, p. 209).
The groups that enjoy the accumulation of capital and profits operate on the basis of what Bion saw as an omnipotence that originates in the inability to tolerate the recognition of the limits of reality and the narcissistic need to control one's objects-in social terms, these objects include markets, commodities, profits, workers, resources, capital. Moreover, such omnipotence represents the subordination of truth to self-interest,5 in the sense that business and governmental depictions of the positive impact of corporate globalization profoundly distort its real impact. In this respect, the gross disparities imposed by the mania of profit-taking are evil enough, but there is another more alarming manifestation of evil: the persistent denial among the dominant classes, in the face of all indisputable data, that human beings and the earth are manifesting an increasing incapacity to sustain the violent assault of corporate globalization. The deregulation, downsizing, and privatization strategies of the United States, the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the World Bank, and Latin American elites aimed at yielding high profits for a minority have guaranteed that each year health care, education, and even essentials such as water and food are increasingly beyond the reach of working people.6 Furthermore, these policies are leaving in their wake land that is drying out and sinking and workers who are sick from the large-scale use of insecticides and chemical fertilizers prohibited in the US and Europe. For example, over 200 pesticides on the World Health Organization's black list are used with impunity in Uruguay, which now has one of the highest cancer rates of any country in the world. Chile's export-based economy results in deforested hills, fished-out shorelines, and chemical-ridden fields in its fruit belt. The indiscriminate use of fertilizers has been linked to alarming rates of birth defects in children born to farm workers. Entire regions in Mexico, El Salvador, Costa Rica, and other countries that were once endowed with a complex ecology based on forested land have become, because of shortsighted exploitative practices by international capital, desertified areas incapable of being utilized for agricultural production. Some regions are so badly devastated that all local water sources have either become contaminated or have disappeared completely (Hollander, 1997).
It seems to me that as psychoanalysts interested in how to understand and confront evil, we must let ourselves digest the real threat to sustainable life that we face at this historical juncture, not only in Latin America, but throughout the world. Years ago Eric Fromm (1973) wrote in a prescient warning:
Man, in the name of progress, is transforming the world into a stinking and poisonous place (and this is not symbolic). He pollutes the air, the water, the soil, the animals-and himself. He is doing this to a degree that has made it doubtful whether the earth will still be livable within a hundred years from now. He knows the facts, but in spite of many protesters, those in charge go on in the pursuit of technical "progress" and are willing to sacrifice all life in the worship of their idol (p. 389).
I believe that as psychoanalysts, we have the capacities-and the obligation-to address this ultimate evil. Are we able to use our psychoanalytic knowledge to confront our own recourse to defenses such as denial and dissociation in a paranoid-schizoid state of defending against knowledge that threatens to overwhelm us? Are we willing to bear our own experience of vulnerability and helplessness in the face of powerful complex social and economic forces and to tolerate it in the service of recognizing reality and of acting with others to repair the violent attack on human rights and the earth? Such a stance is required, it seems to me, to make possible the creation of the kind of social and physical environment that provides the container for the human potential to achieve the depressive position "positive" emotions that form the basis of love, concern, and responsibility for others.
We can take a position similar to that of progressive Latin American psychoanalysts who have assumed a critical stand regarding state terror and corporate globalization, treating its victims psychoanalytically from a position they call "ethical non-neutrality." Many of them have joined their compatriots in struggles for human rights, economic equity, and a sustainable ecology. We, too, if we wish to feel genuinely empowered, can make connections with the tens of thousands of people in this country who are building organizations that demand a more just and environmentally-sound globalization paradigm. They (re)present a multifaceted critique of the consumer social ethic and its destructive impact on civic, spiritual, and community connectedness among people.7 Might we not help create and extend a campaign aimed at "emotional literacy" so that our patients and people in general might better understand the convergence between psychic and social sources of what ails humanity and perhaps acquire the reparative capacities to act in concert with others to fight for social justice? Might we not especially contribute toward the consciousness that it is our own human potential for and participation in evil-whether as perpetrator, supporter, or bystander-that needs to be grappled with?
I would argue as Hanna Segal (1987) does in her comments about the danger of silence in the face of the nuclear arms race and the role psychoanalysts might play to confront denial: "there are situations in which . . . an attitude [of psychoanalytic neutrality] can also become a shield of denial. To be acquainted with facts and recognize psychic facts, which we of all people know something about, and to have the courage to try to state them clearly, is in fact the psychoanalytic stand. We must face our fears and mobilize our forces against destruction. And we must be heard" (p.10).
Notes
1. Lori Berenson is a young journalist who was researching the human rights condition of peasants in Peru when she was arrested and accused by a Peruvian military tribunal of membership in a revolutionary organization. She was imprisoned for life without an open and fair trial with legal representation. She has spent four and a half years in the brutal conditions of Socabaya Prison, where her health, but not her spirit, is failing. For updated information on Lori's case, see www.freelori.org.
2. For a review of the psychoanalytic literature on aggression and violence, see Perelberg, R.J., ed. (1999). Psychoanalytic Understanding of Violence and Suicide. London: Routledge.
3. I cannot elaborate here the characteristics of capitalism that unavoidably create the excessive anxieties that provoke Bion's "basic assumption" group behavior among even the most powerful capitalists. As Marx pointed out, however, alienation in capitalism is experienced even by the most powerful among the capitalist class in that they feel themselves to be subject to impersonal forces-the immutable laws of the market-which spare no one. Even if capitalists feel empowered in relation to the workers (unless threatened by organized labor or other political challenges to their hegemony), they do not feel so in relation to capitalism as a domestic or global system. This reality inevitably produces attitudes of ruthless aggressivity that cannot afford to recognize the needs of others.
4. Quoted in North American Congress on Latin America (July/August 1999). Global Finance in the Americas: Wealth and Hunger Revisited.
5. This paper does not deal with the issue of the banality of evil. I would just say here that I agree with Robert Lifton's (1986) critique of Hannah Arendt's view to the effect that Adolf Eichmann represented the "banality of evil;" as Lifton puts it, "The Nazi doctors were banal, but what they did was not" (p. 12). I would argue the same for those sectors of Latin American terrorist states that contributed, whether in terms of their place in the bureaucracy of terror or their professional skills, to the brutalization of humanity. There was nothing banal about what they did (see Lifton, 1986). For my analysis of the contribution to systemic violence [evil] implicit in the role of bystander, see Hollander, N.C. (1997).
6. For example, President Hugo Banzar of Bolivia, former dictator during the era of state terror, in exchange for more loans and capital infusion from the World Bank and the IMF, agreed to privatize the Bolivian economy and to implement structural readjustment policies, which include lifting controls over wages, prices, and commodities. This agreement increased the indebtedness and dependency of the Bolivian economy as it was opened up to penetration by transnational capital. Last year the water system of Cochabamba was sold to a pool of British-led investors, which immediately raised water prices to levels that represented almost a third of the average monthly family income of $100.00. Many families were forced to choose between purchasing water or basic food stuffs for their children. Is this not evil? Many Bolivians thought it was and organized a protest over a period of four months against the foreign control of their water. Though their peaceful demonstrations and general strikes were met with police repression, they persisted, and when they shut down Cochabamba, a city of half a million people, the government relented and reversed the privatization agreement. Even if rumors that the government will backtrack on its decision are true, Bolivians believe their popular victory over water has many wider meanings. "We're questioning that others-the World Bank, international business-should be deciding these basic issues for us," says protest leader Oscar Olvera. "For us, this is democracy" (www.democracyctr.org). For more information on this struggle, which is by no means the only example of popular struggles against globalization, see Jim Shultz, Executive Director, The Democracy Center, www.democracyctr.org.
7. Many organizations are actively engaged in confronting the World Trade Organization, such as Global Exchange in San Francisco. Web sites include www.globalizethis.org.
References
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