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<title>D.11 Can politics and economics be separated from each other?</title>

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<h1>D.11 Can politics and economics be separated from each other?</h1>

<p>
A key aspect of anarchism is the idea that the political and economic 
aspects of society cannot be separated. <a href="secDcon.html">Section D</a> has been an attempt
to show how these two aspects of society interact and influence each
other. This means that economic liberty cannot be separated from 
political liberty and vice versa. If working class people are subject
to authoritarian political organisations then their economic liberty
will likewise be restricted and, conversely, if their economic freedoms
are limited then so, too, will their political freedoms. As Proudhon
put it, <i>"industrial liberty is inseparable from political liberty."</i> 
[quoted by Alan Ritter, <b>The Political Thought of Pierre-Joseph 
Proudhon</b>, p. 188]
</p><p>
Some disagree, arguing that economic liberty is of primary importance.
When Milton Friedman died in 2006, for example, many of his supporters 
parroted his defence of working with the Pinochet regime and noted that 
Chile had (eventually) become a democracy. For Friedman, this justified 
his praise for the "economic liberty" the regime had introduced and 
rationalised the advice he gave it. For him, Chile provided his earlier 
assertion that <i>"economic freedom is an indispensable means toward the 
achievement of political freedom."</i> For while Friedman stated that there
was <i>"an intimate connection between economics and politics,"</i> he meant 
simply that capitalism was required to produce democracy (to use his
words, <i>"capitalism is a necessary condition for political freedom"</i>). 
[<b>Capitalism and Freedom</b>, p. 8 and p. 10] 
</p><p>
So it should first be stressed that by "economic liberty" Friedman meant 
capitalism and by "political liberty" he meant representative government 
and a democratic state. Anarchists would disagree that either of those 
institutions have much to do with genuine liberty. However, we will 
ignore this for the moment and take his general point. Sadly, such a 
position makes little sense. In fact, Friedman's separation of 
"economic" and "political" liberties is simply wrong as well as 
having authoritarian implications and lacking empirical basis.
</p><p>
The easiest way of showing that statism and capitalism cannot be 
separated is to look at a country where "economic liberty" (i.e.
free market capitalism) existed but "political liberty" (i.e. a
democratic government with basic human rights) did not. The most
obvious example is Pinochet's Chile, an experiment which Friedman
praised as an "economic miracle" shortly before it collapsed. In
<a href="secC11.html">section C.11</a> we discussed the Chilean "economic miracle" at face 
value, refusing to discuss the issue of whether describing the 
regime as one of "economic liberty" could be justified. Rather, 
we exposed the results of applying what leading ideologues of 
capitalism have called "free market" policies on the country. 
As would be expected, the results were hardly an "economic miracle" 
if you were working class. Which shows how little our lives are 
valued by the elite and their "experts." 
</p><p>
As to be expected with Friedman, the actual experience of implementing
his economic dogmas in Chile refuted them. Much the same can be said
of his distinction of "economic" and "political" liberty. Friedman 
discussed the Chilean regime in 1991, arguing that <i>"Pinochet and the 
military in Chile were led to adopt free market principles after they 
took over only because they did not have any other choice."</i> [<b>Economic 
Freedom, Human Freedom, Political Freedom</b>] This is an interesting 
definition of <i>"free market principles."</i> It seems to be compatible 
with a regime in which the secret police can seize uppity workers, 
torture them and dump their bodies in a ditch as a warning to others.
</p><p>
For Friedman, the economic and political regimes could be separated.
As he put it, <i>"I have nothing good to say about the political regime 
that Pinochet imposed. It was a terrible political regime. The real 
miracle of Chile is not how well it has done economically; the real 
miracle of Chile is that a military junta was willing to go against 
its principles and support a free market regime designed by principled 
believers in a free market."</i> [<b>Op. Cit.</b>] How, exactly, could the 
political regime <b>not</b> impact on the economic one? How is a "free 
market" possible if people who make up the labour market are repressed 
and in fear of their lives? True, the Chilean workers could, as workers
in Tsarist Russia, <i>"change their jobs without getting permission from
political authorities"</i> (as Friedman put it [<b>Capitalism and Freedom</b>,
p. 10]), however this is only a small part of what anarchists consider
to be genuine economic liberty.
</p><p>
To see why, it is useful to show a snapshot of what life was like under 
Friedman's "economic liberty" for working class people. Once this is done,
it is easy to see how incredulous Friedman was being. Peter Winn gives a 
good description of what Chile's "economic liberty" was based on:
</p><p><blockquote>
<i>"In the wake of the coup, most of the 'revolutionary' leaders of the
textile workers disappeared, some to unmarked graves, jails, or
concentration camps, others to exile or the underground resistance.
Moreover, when the textile factories resumed production, it was
under military administration and with soldiers patrolling the
plants. Authoritarian management and industrial discipline were
reimposed at the point of a bayonet, and few workers dared to
protest. Some feared for their lives or liberty; many more feared
for their jobs. Military intelligence officers interrogated the
workers one by one, pressing them to inform on each other and then
firing those considered to be leftist activists. The dismissals
often continued after the mills were returned to their former
owners, at first for political reasons or for personal revenge,
but, with the recession of 1975, for economic motives as well. 
The unions, decimated by their leadership losses, intimidated by
the repression, and proscribed by military decree from collective
bargaining, strikes, or other militant actions, were incapable of
defending their members' jobs, wages, or working conditions. 
With wages frozen and prices rising rapidly, living standards 
fell precipitously, even for those fortunate enough to keep their
jobs."</i> [<i>"No Miracle for Us"</i>, Peter Winn (ed.), <b>Victims of the 
Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 
1973-2002</b>, p. 131]
</blockquote></p><p>
In the copper mines, <i>"[h]undreds of leftist activists were fired,
and many were arrested and tortured . . . the military exercised
a firm control over union leaders and activity within the unions
remained dormant until the 1980s."</i> The <i>"decade following the military 
coup was defined by intense repression and a generalised climate of 
terror and fear."</i> Workers recalled that people who spoke at union 
meetings were detained and until 1980 police permission was required 
to hold a meeting, which was held under police supervision. At work, 
<i>"supervisors and foremen ruled with an authoritarian discipline"</i>
while miners <i>"reported that spies denounced workers who talked 
politics or spoke at union meetings to the company administration 
and police."</i> [Thomas Miller Klubock, <i>"Class, Community, and 
Neoliberalism in Chile"</i>, Winn (ed.), <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 214 p. 216 and 
p. 217]
</p><p>
Over all, Workers <i>"bore the brunt of the repression during the military
take-over and throughout the Pinochet regime. The armed forces viewed 
workers -- and the level of organisation they had achieved under previous 
governments -- as the greatest threat to traditional power structure in 
Chile . . . Armed troops went after workers in general and union members 
and leaders in particular with a virulence that contradicted their claim 
to be stamping out 'class hatred.'"</i> As for the relationship between 
"economic" and "political" liberty, the latter was dependent on the end
of the former: <i>"Fear of repression was clearly essential to the 
implementation of free-market labour policies, but far more pervasive 
was the fear of unemployment"</i> generated by the so-called "economic 
miracle." [John Lear and Joseph Collins, <i>"Working in Chile's Free 
Market"</i>, pp. 10-29, <b>Latin American Perspectives</b>, vol. 22, No. 1, 
pp. 12-3 and p. 14]
</p><p>
Thus the ready police repression made strikes and other forms of protest 
both impractical and dangerous. When working class people did take to the 
streets after the economic crash of 1982, they were subject to intense
state repression as Pinochet <i>"cracked down, sending in army troops to curb 
the demonstrators."</i> According to a report by the Roman Catholic Church 
113 protesters had been killed during social protest, with several thousand 
detained for political activity and protests between May 1983 and mid-1984. 
Thousands of strikers were also fired and union leaders jailed. [Rayack, 
<b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 70] In fact, the <i>"brutal government repression put even the 
militant copper miners on the defensive."</i> [Winn, <i>"The Pinochet Era"</i>, 
Winn (ed.), <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 43] Workers were aware that the regime <i>"was 
likely to use the full rigour of the law against workers who acted in 
defence of their interests. Moreover, even though the arbitrary actions 
of the secret police diminished in the last years of the dictatorship,
they did not disappear, nor did their internalised legacy. Fear of becoming 
a target of repression still exercised a chilling effect on both workers 
and their leaders."</i> [Winn, <i>"No Miracle for Us"</i>, Winn (ed.), <b>Op. Cit.</b>, 
p. 133]
</p><p>
All of which puts into stark light Friedman's 1982 comment that <i>"Chile is 
an even more amazing political miracle. A military regime has supported 
reforms that sharply reduce the role of the state and replace control 
from the top with control from the bottom."</i> [quoted by Rayack, <b>Not so Free
to Choose</b>, p. 37] Clearly Friedman had no idea what he was talking about. 
While the <i>"role of the state"</i> <b>was</b> reduced in terms of welfare for the 
masses, it was obviously massively <b>increased</b> in terms of warfare against
them (we will address the <i>"control from the bottom"</i> nonsense shortly). 
</p><p>
For anarchists, it is simply common-sense that "economic liberty" cannot
exist within an authoritarian state for the mass of the population.
In reality, the economic and political regime cannot be so easily
compartmentalised. As Malatesta noted, <i>"every economic question of 
some importance automatically becomes a political question . . . 
Workers' organisations must therefore, of necessity, adopt a line 
of action in face of present as well as possible future government 
action."</i> [<b>Errico Malatesta: His Life and Ideas</b>, pp. 130-1] Such
common-sense is sadly lacking with Friedman who seriously seems to
believe that "economic liberty" could exist without the freedom of
workers to take collective action if they so desired. In other words, 
the "economic miracle" Friedman praises was built on the corpses, 
fears and backs of working class people. Unlike Friedman, Chile's
workers and bosses know that <i>"employers could count on the backing 
of the military in any conflict with workers."</i> [Lear and Collins,
<b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 13] As can be seen, Malatesta had a much firmer grasp 
of the question of liberty that Friedman, as expected as the latter 
equals it with capitalism and its hierarchies while the former 
spent much of his live in prison and exile trying to increase the
freedom of working class people by fighting the former and the 
state which maintains them.
</p><p>
As we argued in <a href="secD1.html#secd14">section D.1.4</a>, laissez-faire capitalism does not end
statism. Rather it focuses it on purely defending economic power
(i.e. "economic liberty" for the capitalist class). The example of
Chile's "economic liberty" proves this beyond doubt and shows that 
the separation of economic and political freedom is impossible and,
consequently, both capitalism <b>and</b> the state need to be fought and,
ultimately, abolished.
</p>

<h2><a name="secd111">D.11.1 What does Chile tell us about the right and its vision of liberty?</a></h2>

<p>
The key to understanding how Friedman managed to ignore the obvious
lack of "economic liberty" for the bulk of the population under 
Pinochet lies in remembering that he is a supporter of capitalism.
As capitalism is a hierarchical system in which workers sell their
liberty to a boss, it comes as no real surprise that Friedman's 
concern for liberty is selective.
</p><p>
Pinochet did introduce free-market capitalism, but this meant real 
liberty only for the rich. For the working class, "economic liberty" 
did not exist, as they did not manage their own work nor control 
their workplaces and lived under a fascist state. The liberty to 
take economic (never mind political) action in the forms of forming 
unions, going on strike, organising go-slows and so on was severely 
curtailed by the very likely threat of repression. Of course, the 
supporters of the Chilean "Miracle" and its "economic liberty" did not 
bother to question how the suppression of political liberty effected 
the economy or how people acted within it. They maintained that the 
repression of labour, the death squads, the fear installed in rebel 
workers could be ignored when looking at the economy. But in the 
real world, people will put up with a lot more if they face the barrel 
of a gun than if they do not. So the claim that "economic liberty" 
existed in Chile makes sense only if we take into account that there 
was only <b>real</b> liberty for one class. The bosses may have been "left 
alone" but the workers were not, unless they submitted to authority 
(capitalist or state). Hardly what most people would term as "liberty".
</p><p>
Beyond the ideologues of capitalism who term themselves "economists," 
it is generally admitted that the "labour market," if it exists, is 
a somewhat unique market. As "labour" cannot be separated from its 
owner, it means that when you "buy" labour you "buy" the time, and 
so liberty, of the individual involved. Rather than be bought on 
the market all at once, as with a slave, the wage slave's life is 
bought piecemeal. This is the key to understanding Friedman's 
nonsensical claims for never forget that by "economic freedom" he 
means capitalism. To understand the difference we need only compare 
two of Friedman's arguments to the reality of capitalism. Once we
do that then his blindness to Chile's neo-liberal dictatorship's
impact on genuine economic liberty becomes clear.
</p><p>
The most obvious fallacy within his argument is this assertion:
</p><p><blockquote>
<i>"A characteristic feature of a free private market is that all parties 
to a transaction believe that they are going to be better off by that 
transaction. It is not a zero sum game in which some can benefit only 
at the expense of others. It is a situation in which everybody thinks 
he is going to be better off."</i> [<b>Economic Freedom, Human Freedom, 
Political Freedom</b>]
</blockquote></p><p>
Who can deny that the worker who sells her liberty to the autocrat of
a capitalist firm is <i>"going to be better off"</i> than one starving to death?
As we noted in <a href="secB4.html#secb41">section B.4.1</a>, Friedman avoids the obvious fact that a 
capitalist economy is dependent on there being a class of people who 
have no means of supporting themselves <b>except</b> by selling their labour 
(i.e. liberty). While full employment will mitigate this dependency 
(and, as a result, bring the system to crisis), it never goes away. And 
given that Pinochet's <i>"free market regime designed by principled believers 
in a free market"</i> had substantial unemployment, it is unsurprising that 
the capitalist was <i>"better off"</i> than the worker as a result. As the 
experience of the <i>"free private market"</i> in Chile suggests, workers need 
to be free to organise without the fear of death squads otherwise they 
will be oppressed and exploited by their bosses. By denying that freedom, 
Pinochet's regime could only be considered "free" by the ideologues and 
savants of capitalism. The only positive thing that can be said is that 
it provided empirical evidence that the ideal neo-classical labour 
market would increase inequality and exploitation 
(see <a href="secC11.html#secc113">section C.11.3</a>).
</p><p>
The problem with Friedman's argument is that he fails to recognise the 
hierarchical nature of capitalism and the limited liberty it produces. 
This can be seen from Friedman's comparison of military dictatorships 
to capitalism:
</p><p><blockquote>
<i>"Almost all military juntas are adverse to economic freedom for obvious 
reasons. The military is organised from the top down: the general tells 
the colonel, the colonel tells the captain, the captain tells the 
lieutenant, and so on. A market economy is organised from the bottom 
up: the consumer tells the retailer, the retailer tells the wholesaler, 
the wholesaler tells the producer, and the producer delivers. The 
principles underlying a military organisation are precisely the reverse 
of those underlying a market organisation."</i> [<b>Op. Cit.</b>]
</blockquote></p><p>
Obviously geometry was not Friedman's strong point. A "market economy" 
is characterised by <b>horizontal</b> links between workplaces and consumers, 
not vertical ones. However, the key issue is that the dominant <i>"market
organisation"</i> under capitalism <b><i>is</i></b> marked by the <i>"principles underlying 
a military organisation."</i> To present a more accurate picture than 
Friedman, in the <i>"market organisation"</i> of a capitalist firm the boss 
tells the worker what to do. It is <i>"organised from the top down"</i> just 
as a military junta is. That Friedman ignores the organisational 
structure which 90% of the population have to operate within for 
most of their waking hours is significant. It shows how little he 
understands of capitalism and "economic freedom."
</p><p>
In Pinochet's Chile, the workplace <b>did</b> become more like <i>"a military
organisation."</i> Without effective unions and basic human rights, the 
bosses acted like the autocrats they are. Discussing the textile 
industry, Peter Winn notes that <i>"most mill owners took full advantage 
of the regime's probusiness Labour Code . . . At many mills, sweatshop 
conditions prevailed, wages were low, and management was authoritarian, 
even tyrannical . . . Workers might resent these conditions, but they 
often felt powerless to oppose them. Informers and the threat of 
dismissal kept even alienated and discontented workers in line."</i> 
[<i>"No Miracle for Us"</i>, Winn (ed.), <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 132 and pp. 132-3]
John Lear and Joseph Collins generalise the picture, noting that 
<i>"[i]n wake of the coup, factory owners suddenly had absolute control
over their workers and could fire any worker without case. From 
1973 through 1978, practically every labour right for organised 
and unorganised workers was suspended. All tools of collective
bargaining, including of course the right to strike, were outlawed."</i> 
[<b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 13] The Junta themselves had no illusions about the
military-like regime they desired within the workplace, stating in
1974 its intention of <i>"imposing authority and discipline in 
production and labour relations."</i> [quoted by Joseph Collins and 
John Lear, <b>Chile's Free-Market Miracle: A Second Look</b>, p. 27]
</p><p>
The reality of life under Pinochet for working class people should make 
anyone with sense wary of praising the regime in any way, but Friedman 
argued that the <i>"results were spectacular. Inflation came down sharply. 
After a transitory period of recession and low output that is unavoidable 
in the course of reversing a strong inflation, output started to expand, 
and ever since, the Chilean economy has performed better than any other 
South American economy."</i> [<b>Op. Cit.</b>] Of course, by downplaying the 
deep recession caused by applying his recommended <i>"shock-treatment"</i>
policies, Friedman can confuse the high growth resulting from coming
out of the boom combined with ready repression on labour with sound
economic policies. Strangely he failed to mention the <i>"spectacular"</i> 
recession of 1982 which wiped out the gains of 1976 to 1981. As indicated 
in <a href="secC11.html">section C.11</a>, looking over the whole of the Pinochet period the results 
were hardly <i>"spectacular"</i> (unless you were rich) and the moderate gains 
were paid for by the working class in terms of longer hours, lower pay
and political and economic oppression.
</p><p>
In other words, Friedman and the 'Chicago boys' provided an appearance 
of technical respectability to the dreams, greed and power of the
landlords and capitalists who made up the Chilean oligarchy. The military 
simply applied the brutal force required to achieve those goals. As such, 
there is only an apparent contradiction between political tyranny and 
"economic liberty," not a real one. Repression for the working class and
"economic liberty" for the elite are two sides of the same coin.
</p><p>
This should be common-sense and, as such, it is nonsensical for the likes
of Friedman to support an economic policy while pretending to reject the 
system of terror it required to implement. After all, economic policies
do not occur in a social and political vacuum. They are conditioned by, 
and at the same time modify, the social and political situation where 
they are put into practice. Thus there cannot be "economic liberty" for
workers if they expect a visit from the secret police if they talk back
to their boss. Yet for Friedman and those like him, there seems to be
a lack of awareness of such basic and obvious facts. There is a necessary 
connection between economic policy (and its outcome) and the 
socio-political setting in which it is implemented. 
</p><p>
Friedman exposes the utter hypocrisy of the supporters of capitalism.
His myopia about the reality of the regime was expressed in articles
which amount to little more than apologetics for the dictatorship. For
example, in 1982 he noted in response to the economic problems of the 
previous year <i>"the opposition to the free-market policies that had 
been largely silence by success is being given full voice."</i> [quoted 
by Rayack, <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. p. 63] No mention that the real cause of the
<i>"silence"</i> of the opposition was not the <i>"success"</i> of policies which 
had impoverished the working class and enriched the elite but, rather, 
the expectation of a visit by the secret police. Given that Pinochet 
had sent murder squads to kill prominent dissidents abroad, Friedman's
comments are incredulous -- particularly as Allende's former foreign 
minister, Orlando Letelier, was assassinated in Washington in 1976 
by a car bomb. 
</p><p>
The state terror, the violation of human rights and drastic control 
and suppression of every form of meaningful dissent is discussed (and
often condemned) as something only indirectly linked, or indeed
entirely unrelated, to the economic policies that the military 
imposed. To publicly praise and support the economic policies adopted 
by the dictatorship while regretting its political regime is simply
illogical hypocrisy. However, it does expose the limited nature of 
the right's concept of liberty as well as its priorities and values.
</p>

<h2><a name="secd112">D.11.2 But surely Chile proves that "economic freedom" creates political freedom?</a></h2> 

<p>
As noted above, Friedman defended his praise for the Pinochet regime
by arguing that its "economic liberty" helped produce the end of the
dictatorship. In the words of Friedman:
</p><p><blockquote>
<i>"The economic development and the recovery produced by economic freedom 
in turn promoted the public's desire for a greater degree of political 
freedom . . . In Chile, the drive for political freedom, that was 
generated by economic freedom and the resulting economic success, 
ultimately resulted in a referendum that introduced political 
democracy. Now, at long last, Chile has all three things: political 
freedom, human freedom and economic freedom. Chile will continue to 
be an interesting experiment to watch to see whether it can keep all 
three or whether, now that it has political freedom, that political
freedom will tend to be used to destroy or reduce economic freedom."</i>
[<b>Op. Cit.</b>]
</blockquote></p><p>
It is hard to find an account so skewed by ideological blindness as
this. The notion that Chile's "free market" capitalism provided the 
base for eliminating Pinochet's dictatorship is hard to defend. If 
it were true then we would expect Pinochet's rule to be substantially 
shorter than other military dictatorships in the region. However, this 
is <b>not</b> the case. For example, Argentina's Military Junta lasted from 
1976 to 1983, 7 years; Peru's 12 years (1968 to 1980); Uruguay's 12 
years (1973 to 1985); Bolivia's 18 years (1964 to 1982). Pinochet's 
lasted 17 years, exceeded by Brazil's 21 years (1964 to 1985). If 
Friedman's argument were valid then Pinochet would have fallen long 
before the rest. In fact, Chile was one of the last Latin American
countries to return to democracy.
</p><p>
Nor can it be said that ending of the Pinochet regime was an automatic
outcome of economic forces. Rather, it was a product of struggle by 
ordinary people who took to the streets in the early 1980s to protest 
in the face of state repression. The regime was subject to popular 
pressures from below and these, not capitalism, were the key factor.
After all, it was not "economic liberty" which produced the desire for 
"political freedom." Working class people could remember what political 
freedom was before it was destroyed in order to create Friedman's 
"economic liberty" and tried to recreate it.
</p><p>
In the face of state terror, political activists and trade unionists 
fought the regime. The 1988 referendum Friedman alludes to was the 
product of this heroic activity, not some abstract economic force. 
As Cathy Schneider points out, the 1983-86 <i>"cycle of protests had set
the stage for a negotiated transition to democracy in 1990."</i> These
protests, it should be noted, were subject to extreme state repression
(one demonstration saw Pinochet send 18,000 troops onto the streets,
who shot 129 people, 29 fatally, and tortured some of the 1,000 
arrested). [<b>Shantytown protest in Pinochet's Chile</b>, p. 194 and 
p. 165] Peter Winn, for example, notes <i>"the resistance of workers to 
both the dictatorship and its neoliberal policies, often against great 
odds and at great risks."</i> In fact, <i>"during the Pinochet era, with 
its repression and restrictions on union activism, Chile's workers 
displayed great creativity in devising new ways to resist . . . Nor 
was this resistance confined to the workplace or workers' issues . . . 
it was Chile's workers who first raised the flag of political resistance 
against the dictatorship in the 1970s and sustained it during the years 
when political parties were banned. And it was the copper miners who 
mobilised the social protests and political opposition to the military 
regime in the 1980s to demand an end to Pinochet's dictatorship and 
the restoration of democracy and civil liberties."</i> [<i>"Introduction"</i>, 
Winn (ed.), <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 11] This is confirmed by John Lear and 
Joseph Collins, who note that <i>"[d]uring the mid-1980s, unions were 
fundamental to organising the national protests that led eventually 
to the negotiations of the 1988 plebiscite."</i> [<b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 20] 
</p><p>
This, it should be noted, has always been the case. Political freedoms
have <b>never</b> been given by the powers that be but rather won by long
struggles by working class people. This has always been the case, as 
Kropotkin stressed basic political liberties were <i>"extorted from 
parliament by force, by agitations that threatened to become rebellions.
It was by establishing trade unions and practising strike action 
despite the edicts of Parliament and the hangings"</i> that workers <i>"won
the right to associate and strike"</i> in Britain for example. [<b>Words of
a Rebel</b>, pp. 123-4] To ignore that often heroic struggle shows an 
ignorance about history which only matches an ignorance about
liberty. The history of capitalism is important in this regard. It first 
developed under Absolutist states which used its power to bolster the 
position of their capitalist class within both national (against the 
working class) and international markets (against foreign competitors). 
As we discuss in <a href="secF8.html">section F.8</a>, they actively intervened to create the 
pre-conditions for generalised wage slavery before becoming a handicap 
to the rising bourgeoisie. These regimes were generally replaced by 
liberal states with limited voting rights which generally lifted the 
burden of state regulation from the capitalist class. The working class 
had to fight long and hard to win basic civil liberties and the vote. 
As Chomsky notes, such progress <i>"didn't just happen; it happened 
through the struggles of the labour movement, and the Civil Rights 
Movement, and the women's movement, and everything else. It's the
popular movements which expanded the domain of freedom of speech
[and other liberties] until it began to be meaningful."</i> [<b>Understanding 
Power</b>, pp. 268-9]
</p><p>
Once these rights were won, the ruling elite has always turned to 
fascism to control them once they started to threaten their power 
and wealth. This obviously applies to Chile. Until the coup of 11 
September 1973, Chile had been seen increasing participation of the 
working class in economic and social decision making. The coup was, 
simply, a massive class revenge of the wealthy against a working 
class which had dared to imagine that another world was possible.
Unsurprisingly, given the key role of working class people in the 
struggle for freedom, <i>"Worker leaders and activists . . . were 
central targets of the military regime's state terror, whose goal 
was to intimidate them into passivity, in large part so that 
neoliberal policies could be imposed."</i> [Peter Winn, <i>"Introduction"</i>,
<b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 12] Equally unsurprising, those who had taken to the
streets aimed for political freedom in order to <b>end</b> the "economic
liberty" imposed by the regime.
</p><p>
This means that Friedman's maxim that economic liberty is required to 
produce political liberty is a deeply flawed position to take. Not 
only does it ignore the popular struggles which have always had to be 
fought to end minority government, it also allows its advocates to 
justify and work with authoritarian regimes. At best, this position 
ensures that you will be indifferent to the destruction of political 
freedom as long as "economic  liberty" (i.e. capitalism) was secured. 
At worse, it ensures that you would actively support such a destruction 
as you can justify it in terms of a return to "democracy" in the long 
run. Friedman and the "Chicago Boys" express both ends of that spectrum.
That he can comment on <i>"the paradox that economic freedom produces 
political freedom but political freedom may destroy economic freedom"</i>
in the context of Chile is staggering, as it was the destruction of
"political freedom" that allowed "economic freedom" (for the rich) to
be imposed. [<b>Op. Cit.</b>]  In reality, Chile provides evidence to support
the alternative argument that the introduction of free market capitalism 
requires the elimination or, at best, the reduction of "political 
liberty." 
</p><p>
In other words, fascism was an ideal political environment to introduce
"economic liberty" <b>because</b> it had destroyed political liberty. Perhaps 
we should conclude that the denial of political liberty is both necessary 
and sufficient in order to create (and preserve) "free market" capitalism?
After all, the history of capitalism has been marked by the ruling class
overthrowing "political liberty" when their power was threatened by 
popular movements. In other words, that Malatesta was right to argue 
that the <i>"capitalists can maintain the struggle in the economic field so 
long as workers demand small . . . improvements; but as soon as they see 
their profits seriously diminished and the very existence of their 
privileges threatened, they appeal to government and if it is not 
sufficiently understanding and not strong enough to defend them . . . 
they use their own wealth to finance new repressive forces and to set 
up a new government which will serve them better."</i> [<b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 131]
</p><p>
Friedman's argument implies that "economic liberty" is more important 
than "political liberty," so making people less concerned about 
dictatorships as long as they support the interests of the capitalist 
class. While the long list of capitalists, conservatives and right-wing 
("classical") liberals who supported fascism or fascist-like regimes
shows that giving them an ideological prop to justify it is unnecessary, 
it is hardly wise.
</p><p>
Then there is the question of whether Chile does, in fact, have genuine
political liberty (i.e. a democratic government). The answer is, not
quite. Chile's democracy is a "managed" one, constrained both by the 
political legacy of Pinochet's constitution and the threat of military 
intervention. Significantly, Friedman seems unconcerned about the 
quality of the post-Pinochet democracy Chile experiences. Simply put,
the existence of an electoral regime cannot be confused with democracy
or "political liberty."
</p><p>
It is clear that Pinochet went into the 1988 plebiscite expecting to win 
(particularly as he tried to rig it like the 1980 one). According to
many reports from members of his cabinet and staff, he was absolutely 
furious and wanted to annul the results. The popular backlash this 
would have created ensured he abided by the result. Instead, he 
ensured that the new governments had to accept his authoritarian 
constitution and decree-laws. In other words, knowing he would be 
replaced he immediately took steps to limit the subsequent democratically 
elected governments as well as remaining as the head of the armed forces 
(as we discuss below, this obviously ensures the threat of a coup hung 
over the new governments).
</p><p>
This means that post-Pinochet  Chile is not your typical "democracy." 
Pinochet became an unelected senator for life after his retirement 
as armed forces commander in March 1998 and 28% of the Senate is
<i>"designated,"</i> including four retired military officers named by the 
National Security Council. Pinochet also imposed a <i>"unique binomial 
electoral law, [in] which to elect two deputies or senators from the 
same district, a party or electoral alliance needed to double its 
opponent's vote -- a difficult feat -- or else the opponent received 
an equal number of seats in congress."</i> This ensured rightist control 
of the Senate despite a decade of majority victories by the 
centre-left in elections and so <i>"Pinochet's 'designated senators' 
and undemocratic electoral law continued to frustrate the popular will 
and limit Chile's restored democracy."</i> The majority could not <i>"pass laws
without the consent of its rightist opponents."</i> Pinochet used <i>"final
months as president to decree laws that would hamstring his opponents, 
even if a majority of the electorate supported them."</i> In addition, any 
new government was <i>"confronted by a judiciary and government bureaucracy 
packed by Pinochet with his own adherents. Moreover, the Right enjoyed a 
near monopoly of the press and media that grew as the decade advanced."</i> 
[Winn, <i>"The Pinochet Era"</i>, <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 64 and p. 49]
</p><p>
Thus Chile is lumbered with Pinochet's legacy, <i>"the authoritarian 
constitution of 1980, which sought to create a 'protected democracy' 
under military tutelage. It was written so as to be difficult to amend 
and designed to handcuff a future opposition government and frustrate 
popular will."</i> It <i>"removed the military from civilian control, while 
submitting future elected governments to a military-dominated National 
Security Council with a vague but broad purview."</i> It also <i>"banned measures 
against private property."</i> With some <i>"relative minor modifications of 
some of its most egregious features during the transition to democracy"</i> 
it remained <i>"in effect for the rest of the century"</i> and in 2004 was 
<i>"still Chile's fundamental charter."</i> [Winn, <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 30] This 
constitution built upon the work of right-"libertarian" Friedrich
von Hayek and, unsurprisingly aimed to insulate "economic liberty" 
from popular pressures, i.e. to limit and reduce democracy to secure
the freedom of capitalism (and, of course, the capitalist class).
</p><p>
In addition, the threat of military intervention is always at the 
forefront of political discussions. For example, on 11 September 1990, 
Pinochet <i>"warned that he would lead another coup is conditions warranted 
it. In 1993, when investigations into an arms procurement scandal 
implicated his son, Pinochet ordered combat-ready troops and tanks 
onto the streets for an 'exercise' . . . Throughout the Aylwin 
presidency, Pinochet maintained an army 'shadow cabinet' that acted 
as a political pressure group."</i> Unsurprisingly, the first post-Pinochet 
government <i>"often backed down in practice for the sake of social peace 
-- or out of fear of endangering the transition to democracy. As a 
result, Aylwin was unable to fulfil his promises of constitutional
and institutional reforms that would reverse Pinochet's authoritarian
legacy."</i> This was because the new government thought that the coup and 
dictatorship <i>"reflected the decision of business elites to call in the 
military, because they could not protect their core interests under 
Chile's radicalised democracy. The lesson that . . . [they] drew . . . 
was that to avoid its repetition in the 1990s it was necessary to 
reassure business that its interests would be protected."</i> 
[Winn, <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 50 and p. 53]
</p><p>
The limited nature of Chile's democracy was seen in 1998, when Pinochet 
was arrested in Britain in regard of a warrant issued by a Spanish Judge 
for the murders of Spanish citizens during his regime. Commentators, 
particularly those on the right, stressed that Pinochet's arrest could 
undermine Chile's "fragile democracy" by provoking the military. In 
other words, Chile is only a democracy in-so-far as the military let 
it be. Of course, few commentators acknowledged the fact that this 
meant that Chile was not, in fact, a democracy after all. 
</p><p>
All of which explains why subsequent governments have only tinkered with
the free-market policies introduced by Pinochet. They have dared not reverse 
them not due to their popular nature but to the obvious fact that recent 
Chilean history shows that progressive politicians and their supporters have 
something to fear besides losing an election. Unsurprisingly, workers 
<i>"socio-economic aspirations were postponed in the interest of not jeopardising 
the transition and their expectations of labour law reform were sacrificed on 
the same alter."</i> [Winn, <i>"Introduction"</i>, Winn (ed.), <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 10] While 
2002 saw the election of the first socialist president since Allende, it is 
unlikely that Chile will experience anything beyond minor reforms -- the
legacy of fear and political restrictions will ensure that the ruling class
will have little to fear from "political liberty" being used by politicians
to curb their power and wealth. 
</p><p>
Then there is the social legacy of 17 years of dictatorship. As one expert 
on Latin America, Cathy Scheider, noted in 1993, <i>"the transformation 
of the economic and political system"</i> under Pinochet <i>"has had a profound 
impact on the world view of the typical Chilean,"</i> with most having 
<i>"little contact with other workers or with their neighbours, and only 
limited time with their family. Their exposure to political or labour 
organisations is minimal. . . they lack either the political resources 
or the disposition to confront the state. The fragmentation of opposition 
communities has accomplished what brute military repression could not. It 
has transformed Chile, both culturally and politically, from a country of 
active participatory grassroots communities, to a land of disconnected,
apolitical individuals. The cumulative impact of this change is such that
we are unlikely to see any concerted challenge to the current ideology in
the near future."</i> [quoted by Noam Chomsky, <b>World Orders, Old and New</b>, 
p. 184] 
</p><p>
In such circumstances, political liberty can be re-introduced, as no one 
is in a position to effectively use it. In addition, Chileans live with 
the memory that challenging the state in the near past resulted in a 
fascist dictatorship murdering thousands of people as well as repeated and 
persistent violations of human rights by the junta, not to mention the 
existence of "anti-Marxist" death squads -- for example in 1986 <i>"Amnesty 
International accused the Chilean government of employing death squads."</i> 
[P. Gunson, A. Thompson, G. Chamberlain, <b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 86] According to 
one Human Rights group, the Pinochet regime was responsible for 11,536
human rights violations between 1984 and 1988 alone. [Calculation of
<i>"Comite Nacional de Defensa do los Derechos del Pueblo,"</i> reported in
<b>Fortin</b>, September 23, 1988] 
</p><p>
These facts that would have a strongly deterrent effect on people 
contemplating the use of political liberty to actually <b>change</b> the 
status quo in ways that the military and economic elites did not approve 
of. This does not mean, of course, that the Chilean people are not 
resisting oppression and exploitation and rebuilding their organisations, 
simply that using free speech, striking and other forms of social action 
is more difficult. That is protects and increases the power, wealth and 
authority of the employer and state over their wage slaves goes without
sating -- it was what was intended. As Kropotkin pointed out years ago, 
<i>"freedom of press . . . and all the rest, are only respected if the 
people do not make use of them against the privileged classes. But the 
day the people begin to take advantage of them to undermine those 
privileges, then the so-called liberties will be cast overboard."</i> 
[<b>Op. Cit.</b>, p. 42] Chile is a classic example of this, a bloody example 
which helps deter genuine democracy in that country decades later. 
</p>

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