Why Did the ‘Twitter Revolutions’ Fail?
Why Did the ‘Twitter Revolutions’ Fail?
“Just like in the
French Revolution (the Russian revolution, the Mexican revolution or the Cuban revolution),
a revolution is not a matter of the lower classes, is a matter of certain
powers that be manipulating the desperate masses to change the status quo,
guess who gets the benefit in the end?"
Erreh Svaia
Taken From: The New York Times
By: Ivan Krastev
Shortly
after Louis Napoleon’s 1851 coup in Paris, five of the greatest political minds
in Europe hustled to their writing desks to capture the meaning of the events.
The five
were very different people. Karl Marx was a Communist. Pierre Joseph Proudhon an
anarchist. Victor Hugo, the most popular French poet of his time, a romantic.
And Alexis de Tocqueville and Walter Bagehot were liberals. Their
interpretations of the coup were as different as their philosophies. But in the
manner of the man who mistook his wife for a hat, they all mistook the end of
Europe’s three-year revolutionary wave for its beginning.
Has the
Western media made the same mistake in recent years? Are its interpretations of
the global wave of popular protests — spontaneous, leaderless, nonviolent,
which Thomas Friedman memorably described as the rise of the “square people” —
similarly off-base? It seems so: Just take the stunning and unexpected victory
of the governing Justice and Development Party, or A.K.P., in Turkey’s
parliamentary elections last week.
Two and a
half years ago, popular protests in Gezi Park in Istanbul and elsewhere
captured the imagination of the West. Individuals with different political
views and agendas succeeded in fashioning a common language with a common
message. Even skeptics agreed that the protests had fundamentally changed the
country’s politics. The result of the parliamentary elections in June seemed to
prove the point: The success of the Peoples’ Democratic Party, or H.D.P. — an
inspiring coalition of Kurds and secular leftists — in crossing the 10 percent
threshold needed to enter Parliament would have been unthinkable if not for the
protests.
But the
results of last week’s parliamentary elections show the fragility of the
protest’s success. The confrontational strategy of Turkey’s president, Recep
Tayyip Erdogan, worked. He gambled on new elections and won, wiping out the
summer’s results and putting to rest, for now, the idea that the protest
movement had any real impact.
It’s not
just Turkey, either. The huge protests in the winter of 2012 in Moscow resulted
not in the smashing of President Vladimir V. Putin’s state, but in the
consolidation of his power.
Wherever
you look, little movement along the lines of what the political scientist
Francis Fukuyama called the “revolution of the global middle class” seems to
have endured. And in the most tragic cases, the Arab Spring has resulted in the
worst of all worlds: authoritarian resurgence in Egypt, and civil war and state
failure in Syria, Libya and Yemen.
It is
tempting to believe that these rightward and reactionary turns are merely a
product of state coercion and manipulation. And for sure, manipulation and
coercion explain quite a lot. Yet to insist that the current conservative
backlash is simply a function of political spin is to ignore the reality.
What is now
apparent is that the global protest wave may have polarized societies, but it
is “the party of stability” and not “the networks of hope” that profited from
the polarization. Wherever one looks, the political and social disruption
brought on by protesters resulted not in more democracy and pluralism, but in a
consolidation around the state and the national leader. We are witnessing a new
anti-cosmopolitan moment.
This
backlash has also transformed geopolitics. Mr. Erdogan’s military campaign
against the Kurds, which has greatly complicated the situation in Syria, was
really just a part of his fall political campaign. Russia’s annexation of
Crimea was largely part of a strategy to resist the revolutionary contagion
rather than merely an act of traditional Russian imperialism.
It is
commonplace to ask why the “Twitter revolutions” are in retreat. But the more
intriguing question is why we were so convinced that they would succeed in the
first place.
Three
factors may explain why most political commentators ended up, like Marx and
Hugo in 1851, utterly failing to recognize an obvious reality. For one, there’s
the West’s political narcissism, nourished in the post-Cold War period in which
it really did seem that pluralist democracy was on the march. Such narcissism
stripped us of the capacity to look critically at any actor whom we see
inspired by our political model (bonus points if he or she writes political
slogans in English). We assume that the imitation of Western practices and
principles is a foolproof road to democratic success.
There has
also been a dangerous so-called normative turn in American political science.
It reduced our understanding of complex social and global problems to a series
of correlations that reassure us that, among other things, democracies do not
fight one another, that democracy makes countries richer and less corrupt, and
that every country is on its way to becoming, well, a democracy. Liberal
teleology came to replace the Marxist one.
Finally, we
were seduced by the “Silicon Valley effect,” the fact that our ideas and
strategies for social change were shaped less by historical experience and more
by the utopian possibilities of the world of technology. Trapped in that
belief, we failed to recognize the frailties of the new protest movements and
misjudged their impact on society. You can tweet a revolution, but you cannot
tweet a government, and many of the new protest movements are paying a high
price for their anti-institutional ethos.
These
protests fell victim to similar fashionable notions: that organizations are a
thing of the past (and networks representative of the future), that states no
longer matter, and that spontaneity is the real source for legitimacy.
Disruption,
we know well, is highly valued in the technology community and plays a critical
role in upending companies. But societies are not made of innovators alone, and
very often the demand for constant change and the hosannas for creative
destruction eventually bring demand for stability. Mr. Putin, Mr. Erdogan and
their ilk understood this point even if the protesters and pontificators
didn’t, and they sat patiently until the right moment to reassert their power.
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