Tag: Authoritarianism

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 2007
Location: Myanmar
Main Actors: Buddhist monks, All Burma Monks Alliance (ABMA)
Tactics
- Withholding or withdrawal of allegiance
- Slogans, caricatures, and symbols
- Assemblies of protest or support
- Interdict and Minor Excommunication

Myanmar (Burma) has been formally ruled by military autocrats from 1962-2011 and since 2021, although the military has wielded sweeping informal powers since independence in 1948. The junta governments have acted with extreme brutality, employing forced labor, raping, and torturing civilians, destroying thousands of villages (especially in areas populated by ethnic minorities), displacing millions, and conscripting tens of thousands of child soldiers. Elections have been either rigged in the military’s favor or not permitted, owing to the need for stability and economic growth, which democracy would allegedly disrupt.

Buddhist monks have been a crucial pillar of support and legitimacy for the military regimes. Around 90% of Myanmar’s 55 million residents are Buddhist and the country is home to nearly 400,000 monks. Buddhist schools educate huge numbers of Burmese youths, which has effectively subsidized the junta to allocate its resources toward national defense. One of the most important ways that Burmese monks have legitimated the regime is by allowing military leaders to “make merit.” This entails monks performing rituals on behalf of or accepting donations (or “alms”) from the military; merit-making thus endows military leaders with good karma and demonstrates to the people that they are ruled in accordance with Buddhist principles. In exchange for monks’ compliance, the military has publicly promoted Buddhist rituals, built temples and relics, and empowered monks on state bodies charged with regulating public religion. 

In August 2008, a number of small and isolated protests broke out in response to economic hardships, especially increases in the cost of living and price of government-controlled gas. State police responded by harassing and arresting protesters. By September, an increasing number of monks had joined in the protests, later termed the “Saffron Revolution” in reference to monks’ orange robes. Many of these monks were attacked by police. In response, other monks began protesting, demanding an apology from the state and boycotting its merit-making activities with the junta—crucial acts of defection. A group of monks formed the All Burma Monks Alliance (ABMA) to coordinate protests across Myanmar. 

By late September 2008, some monastic leaders had broadened their demands, calling for democracy and an outright end to military rule. An ABMA statement called the junta the “enemy of all our citizens” and vowed to “banish [it]...from Burmese soil forever.” Monks met with Myanmar’s most prominent opposition leader, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate Aung San Suu Kyi, who was under house arrest. By this point, the protests had swelled to hundreds of thousands. During the protests, many monks held their “alms bowls” upside down, an act of huge symbolic importance: the monks signified that the regime’s donations were essentially unclean and ill-intentioned, rendering regime elites deserving of excommunication.

Burmese security forces responded to the protests with large-scale crackdowns and a concerted propaganda campaign. Police shot at protesters and raided monasteries, arresting and even torturing monks. Protesters and monks were deemed terrorists and foreign agents. Thousands of Burmese people were killed during the Saffron Revolution, over one thousand monks were arrested, and many others fled the country. 

Protesters could not ultimately coordinate so as to match the junta’s power. Meanwhile, monastic leaders disagreed amongst themselves regarding whether the junta should merely reform or resign altogether. But despite these immediate disappointments, Myanmar’s 2007 protests helped pave the way toward democratic reforms beginning in 2011. These included the release of political prisoners and the military’s engagement in dialogue with opposition politicians. 

Although Burmese monks’ defections in 2007 were quite brave, it should be noted that they have not been uniformly democratic actors. Indeed, especially in the post-2011 period, conservative monastic groups (e.g., the 969 Movement and Patriotic Association of Myanmar [MaBaTha]) have advocated illiberal, anti-Muslim laws. These have restricted conversions from Buddhism, required parental consent for young Buddhist women to marry non-Buddhist men, and required 1.5-year intervals between childbirths. International organizations have denounced these laws—aimed at limiting the growth of Islam, Muslim families, and inter-religious marriages—as human rights violations. Illiberal monastic groups have ultimately supported continued rule by military elites if it means continued monastic power and Muslim marginalization. 

How can we explain the monks’ defections during the Saffron Revolution? One explanation relates to group interests and solidarities: many monks joined the protests after their colleagues suffered at the hands of security forces. Protests were seen as a means of countering this unacceptable precedent. A second explanation is that monks were outraged about the suffering of their laity. Note that this second explanation does not require that monks view ordinary Burmese people as entitled to wield democratic powers over rulers or monks (Jerryson 2018). Rather, the military may have been seen as acting unjustly in its departure from the status quo, namely an authoritarian alliance between rulers and monks. 

Democracy organizers in the US can learn much from the example set by Burmese monks. For one, monks showcased the importance of mobilizing via not merely religious language but religious action. This included marching with upside down alms bowls and the refusal to engage in merit-making with the junta. US democracy will similarly benefit when its religious leaders not only make statements but act so as to resist authoritarian leaders. A second lesson concerns the importance of religious leaders standing with one another in the face of authoritarianism. Many monks joined the Saffron Revolution precisely because their colleagues were being harmed. The US’s religious landscape is considerably more fractured than Burmese Theravada Buddhism, but a powerful message is sent when, e.g., Catholics stand with Protestants, Baptists with Methodists, Christians with Muslims, etc., in support of democracy. Finally, the Burmese case brings into focus a dilemma for democracy organizers, namely that successful coalitions may not necessarily be composed of those who support expansive democratic change. We saw above that many Burmese monks may not uniformly believe that every Burmese citizen deserves broad democratic freedoms. Nevertheless, these kinds of coalition partners may be crucial in the early stages of struggles for democratic change.

Where to Learn More
- Human Rights Watch. (2007). Repression of the 2007 Popular Protests in Burma.
- International Crisis Group. (2008). Burma/Myanmar: After the Crackdown.
- Jerryson, M. (2018). If you meet the Buddha on the road: Buddhism, politics, and violence. Oxford University Press.
- Selth, A. (2008). Burma's ‘saffron revolution’ and the limits of international influence. Australian Journal of International Affairs, 62(3), 281-297.
- Rogers, B. (2008). The saffron revolution: The role of religion in Burma’s movement for peace and democracy.Totalitarian Movements and Political Religions, 9(1), 115-118.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 2011
Location: Egypt
Main Actors: The Egyptian Military
Tactics
- Withholding or withdrawal of allegiance
- Mutinies by government personnel
- Protective Presence

Between 1981-2011 Egypt was under the authoritarian rule of Hosni Mubarak. Upon taking power, Mubarak imposed a decades-long state of emergency that empowered the security forces to restrict free speech and assembly. The Mubarak regime rigged elections in its favor, violently cracked down on political opponents, and jailed tens of thousands without charge, many of whom were tortured.

The military served as a key pillar of support for Mubarak - himself a former Air Force commander. Mubarak rewarded military elites with control over large segments of the economy as well as positions in government. These relationships secured the military’s loyalty and would guarantee its importance in resolving threats to the status quo. 

On January 25, 2011, inspired by the recent ousting of Tunisian president Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, Egyptians staged mass anti-government protests. The protesters, famously centered in Cairo’s Tahrir Square, initially called for an end to economic mismanagement and state violence but broadened their demands to Mubarak’s resignation. In response, Mubarak ordered the military, police, and paramilitary groups to violently disperse the protesters. 

Despite its longstanding allegiance to Mubarak, the military released a statement saying it would not “resort to use of force…[and would respect the] legitimate demands of honourable citizens.” It promised, and in some cases fulfilled its promise, to protect Egyptians from the police and paramilitaries--those elements of the security forces more closely allied to Mubarak. The military did not enforce Mubarak’s curfew, permitted protesters to engage in anti-Mubarak graffiti, and even positioned tanks in between protesters and police. 

As the protests became larger and more threatening to the status quo, Mubarak made a series of concessions (e.g., stating that he would not seek reelection) while continuing to order violent crackdowns against protesters. Throughout this process, the military weighed its options. After the protests began, military leaders negotiated with and worked to stabilize Mubarak’s government. But a turning point came on February 2, when Mubarak loyalists killed 3 and injured 600 protesters. Thereafter, the military more squarely distanced itself from Mubarak. Mubarak’s mix of concessions and violence was ultimately unsuccessful: on February 11 he resigned and the military seized power.

It should be noted that the scope and significance of military defection from Mubarak is a matter of dispute. Although the military did not engage in large-scale public violence, it did at times permit police and militias to enter Tahrir Square, even resupplying them with ammunition. The military prevented protesters from bringing cameras into Tahrir Square and stood by as protesters were attacked. It also engaged in more private acts of violence, such as forced disappearances and extrajudicial detention. Even the memorable display of tanks protecting protesters has been interpreted by some observers as a show of force and intimidation by the military, along with the regular flying of military jets and helicopters above Tahrir Square. 

These important qualifications notwithstanding, the military’s decision not to fire on protesters was significant in unraveling the Mubarak regime. How can we explain these consequential acts of defection? Most explanations highlight the importance of Egypt’s stability and the military’s economic interests. For one, if Mubarak had stayed in power, his son Gamal would have succeeded him. However, Gamal had indicated his support for privatizing many of the assets that military elites owned, thus threatening their economic privileges. In addition, after the US withdrew its support from Mubarak, the Egyptian military was weary of defending such an internationally unstable ruler and losing access to foreign aid and weapons. Protesters’ growing anger made Mubarak’s position even more fragile. Most generally, military leaders were anxious about Egypt’s growing economic stagnation and Islamist opposition to the state; they simply believed these conflicts could be best resolved if Mubarak left office. As the number of defections grew, members of the military believed they would not be punished for following suit.

Despite its differences from the US, democracy organizers can learn much from the Egypt case. A first lesson concerns the importance of civilian oversight of the military. Authoritarians like Mubarak regularly shower military leaders with economic and political privileges. As these privileges increase, the armed forces may be willing to overlook anti-democratic transgressions to preserve its position. Civilian leaders must carefully oversee relations between executives and the military to help ensure the latter’s commitment to democracy.

A second lesson concerns the importance of addressing military grievances. Many Egyptian military elites became aggrieved on account of Mubarak’s economic mismanagement and dictatorial style of rule, which were seen as dangerous threats to their livelihoods. Similarly in the US, resource constraints have been a source of grievance for military leaders. Addressing these issues may help convince military leaders that they have less to gain from supporting authoritarians who make lofty promises about new streams of funding and resources.

Where to Learn More
- Barany, Z. (2011). Comparing the Arab revolts: The role of the military. Journal of Democracy, 22(4), 24-35.
- Bumiller, E. (2011). Egypt Stability Hinges on a Divided Military. New York Times.
- Kirkpatrick, D. (2011). Egyptians Defiant as Military Does Little to Quash Protests. New York Times.
- Shane, S. & Kirkpatrick, D. (2011). Military Caught Between Mubarak and Protesters. New York Times.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 1948-1968
Location: South Africa
Main Actors: Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa (DRC), Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Cape Town, Anglican Church of Southern Africa, Christian Institute of Southern Africa, South African Council of Churches
Tactics
- Declarations by organizations and institutions
- Signed public statements
- Assemblies of protest or support

Apartheid, South Africa’s system of racially segregated autocracy, formally began in 1948 but was in many ways an extension of colonial-era practices. Under apartheid, nonwhites --Blacks, Asians, and mixed race groups-- were disenfranchised and deprived of South African citizenship, forcibly relocated out of white areas, and prohibited from marrying whites. Those critical of the ruling National Party and apartheid more generally were violently repressed and imprisoned, often under the pretext of being communists. 

Christian clergy played an important role in both supporting and defecting from the apartheid status quo. Key among apartheid’s religious supporters were leaders of the Dutch Reformed Church (DRC), the main denomination among Dutch or “Afrikaner” settlers who colonized South Africa in the late 17th century. Several other denominations followed the DRC in instituting segregated churches from the late 19th century. In fact, the term apartheid (meaning “apart-ness” in Dutch) was coined at a DRC conference in 1929. The varied actions of Christian clergy included justifying apartheid, criticizing it without demanding its end, covertly and overtly supporting antiapartheid activists, and so on. 

Many of the specifically white clergy who fought against apartheid paid a high price, including demotions and dismissals, loss of community, threats to their personal safety, and exile. Without detracting from the often greater price paid by Black clergy, focusing on the initial actions of white clergy can help us understand how (a) leaders who might benefit from the status quo take costly actions to defect from it and (b) early defections make possible larger chains of defection that ultimately eject authoritarian governments. 

In the immediate post-1948 period, clergy responses to apartheid were limited. For example, the Southern African Catholic Bishops’ Conference’s 1952 Statement on Apartheid said “Were the attitude of Europeans the sole reason for South Africa’s racial problem, it would be simple enough to condemn it as unjust and unchristian…However, the problem is far more complex…aris[ing] out of the fact that the great majority of non-Europeans…have not yet reached a stage of development that would justify their integration.” However, a few examples of defection stand out. Against the warnings of his Archbishop, the Catholic Bishop Francis Hennemann issued a statement in 1948 calling apartheid “noxious, unchristian and destructive,” adding that a “white civilization” could never be a Christian one. These early responses were not limited to statements. In 1950, Anglican priest Trevor Huddleston protested alongside Nelson Mandela and others against the forced removals of nonwhites into “Bantustan” territories. These and other actions led Huddleston’s superiors to recall him back to England several years later. In 1953, after the forced closure of missionary schools that educated Blacks, Catholic Archbishop Denis Hurley launched a fundraising campaign in an attempt to maintain autonomy from the state. And in a bold act of civil disobedience, Anglican Archbishop Geoffrey Clayton sent a letter to South Africa’s prime minister in 1957 stating that he refused to obey --and refused to counsel his laity to obey-- legislation that forced congregations to segregate. 

The March 1960 massacre of antiapartheid protesters by police in Sharpeville --where 91 died and over 200 were injured-- was critical in pushing otherwise apathetic clergy to defect and denounce apartheid After Sharpeville, Anglican Archbishop Joost de Blank called for the World Council of Churches to expel DRC from its ranks, which led DRC to split along pro- and anti-apartheid lines. Especially noteworthy was the Afrikaner DRC minister and longtime apartheid supporter Beyers Naudé. Between 1962-63, Naudé started an antiapartheid ecumenical monthly journal called Pro Veritate as well as an organization called the Christian Institute, both of which were banned by the South African government. Naudé’s DRC superiors issued him an ultimatum: cease all journal and organizational activities or resign. Naudé resigned and was stripped of his status as a minister. A sermon by Naudé in 1963 called his choice one “between obedience in faith and subjection to [Church] authority,” adding that “[by] obedience to the latter, I would save face but lose my soul.” 

By the late 1960s, a growing number of clergy became more actively critical of apartheid. For example, in 1968 the South African Council of Churches published “A Message to the People of South Africa,” where it called apartheid “a false faith …[and] security built not on Christ…[that] inevitably conflicts with the Christian Gospel…rooted in and dependent on a policy of sin.” The initial steps taken in the 1950s and 60s, while sometimes patronizing and perhaps insufficiently critical from our standpoint, were crucial in paving the road toward broader clergy defections in the 1970s and 80s. This includes the influential “Special Programme for Christian Action in Society” (SPRO-CAS), which proclaimed that South Africa was “in urgent need of radical change, in the sense of a fundamental redistribution of power…so that the black majority can exercise an effective role.”

What explains these defections among religious leaders at different ranks and within different denominations? It seems clear that antiapartheid white clergy were driven by a specifically Christian ethos centered on equality before God. On this view, apartheid was deemed antithetical to God’s will and political apathy deemed sinful. Explaining their defections by reference to careerism or personal gain seems inappropriate in light of the high costs endured by so many of these clergy. By contrast, many of the clergy who did not defect were sympathetic to a view of apartheid as itself divinely ordained, owing to allegedly innate differences between races.

Democracy organizers in the US can learn much from the example set by South African clergy. First, the incremental and cautious nature of many defections, while disappointing to those seeking more wholesale change, can nevertheless enable and motivate larger chains of defections. US leaders from within the Pillars of Support who, e.g., “merely” condemn political violence --without condemning the authoritarian sentiments underlying it-- may turn out to be crucial first movers. A second lesson concerns the power of religious language: the appeals by South African clergy to God’s law were important in convincing their laity to condemn or disobey the laws of apartheid. Finally, the South Africa case attests to the importance of diverse kinds of tactics by defectors, including individual and joint statements, protests, fundraising, and civil disobedience.

Where to Learn More
- Kairos Document (1985).
- Overcoming Apartheid (2024). “Religious Faith and Anti-Apartheid Activism.” 
- Special Programme for Christian Action in Society (1972). “Apartheid and the Church.”

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 1988
Location: Chile
Main Actors: Fernando Matthei (Air Force General), Rodolfo Stange (General Director of the Police), José Merino (Navy Admiral)
Tactics
- Withholding or withdrawal of allegiance
- Mutinies by government personnel
- Deliberate inefficiency and selective noncooperation by enforcement agents

In 1973, a group of military officers led by General Augusto Pinochet and supported by the United States government overthrew Chile’s democratically elected, socialist president, Salvador Allende. Pinochet’s authoritarian military junta dissolved Chile’s congress, purged the bureaucracy and judiciary of known and suspected socialists, and prosecuted its opponents in military tribunals. Critics of the regime, both elites and ordinary citizens, were arrested without warrant, indefinitely detained, tortured, and executed.

Chile’s 1980 constitution both empowered the military junta and provided for a transition to civilian, democratic rule in 1990. A plebiscite was held in 1988 to determine whether Pinochet would serve as civilian president for another eight years, i.e., from 1990-98. The actions of elite junta members during and after the plebiscite constitute remarkable instances of pro-democracy defection.

In the lead-up to the plebiscite, General Hugo Salas Wenzel, a Pinochet loyalist and director of the secret police, met with intelligence chiefs from the Navy, Air Force, and Police. Wenzel described a plan to invalidate the plebiscite if Pinochet were to lose. After hearing of this plan, Air Force General Fernando Matthei and others requested a meeting with Pinochet where they told him that he must respect the constitution, which Pinochet refused.

On the night of the plebiscite, Pinochet’s supporters requested permission to hold premature victory demonstrations, despite Chile’s authoritarian ban on public assemblies. The supporters likely sought to incite counter-demonstrations, which Pinochet could use as a pretext to justify cracking down on his opponents and invalidating the plebiscite. Police Director Rodolfo Stange refused this request. That evening, Stange’s units arrested agitators from secret police attempting to stir up trouble and refused to promptly release them. 

As Pinochet’s plebiscite loss became clearer to junta leaders, the latter took actions to contradict the disinformation being peddled on state media. General Matthei openly told a group of news reporters that it looked like Pinochet had lost. Later that night, Pinochet met with members of the junta and refused to leave office, threatening to fill the streets with troops and remove any generals who opposed him. The generals told Pinochet that he lacked the power to do any of this. Pinochet then asked the junta leaders to sign a document allegedly containing the meeting minutes; in fact, the document asked for an extension of his authoritarian emergency powers. General Matthei tore up the document and other junta members refused to sign it. Pinochet ultimately left office after his term expired, although he played an important role in Chile’s military and political system thereafter.

These acts of defiance by military elites allied to Pinochet were critical in prompting Chile’s transition to democracy. In addition, their actions were personally risky, as they faced potential prosecution for human rights abuses after Pinochet’s departure. However, Amnesty laws decreed by Pinochet have served to indefinitely protect most junta leaders.

What explains these risky and consequential defections? A first set of factors were domestic: although the military was united in its aversion to socialism, it was more divided with respect to Pinochet’s free market policy agenda as well as the prospect of decades-long military rule. Indeed, Pinochet’s tenure had already reached 16 years and was being proposed to extend to 25. There was a broad sentiment within the military of “mission accomplished”: the purported threats posed by Allende’s socialist government were seen to have been averted by 15 years of military rule. Another set of factors were international: by 1988, the US had deemed Pinochet a liability whose aggressive right wing dictatorship could threaten to incite a leftist revolution. Junta leaders sought continued US support, which was less likely if they refused to distance themselves from Pinochet. 

US democracy organizers may wonder whether lessons can be drawn from the example of a military autocracy like Chile. In spite of its many differences from the US, Chile’s experience highlights the importance of differences of opinion among elites, even those who have supported the authoritarian status quo. In Chile, these differences of opinion --particularly whether Pinochet was a reliable ally-- proved highly consequential for the transition to democratic rule. Pillar leaders, whether supportive or skeptical of democracy, have personal interests they wish to protect that may not always align with the dictator’s interests. As Pinochet’s violence and electoral fraud became increasingly unsustainable, a crucial segment of his allies deemed democracy more consistent with their goals. 

A second lesson relates to the importance of non-elites and their interactions with military elites. In addition to the military defections described above was a sustained, nonviolent struggle conducted by workers, university students, and religious groups, among others. Through peaceful protests and labor strikes, the Chilean masses demonstrated to junta leaders that a post-Pinochet world would not be unstable and chaotic. This points to the importance of democratic mass action as contributing to elite loyalty shifts. 

Where to Learn More
- Kornbluh, P. (2023). The American Ambassador Who Helped Stop a Coup in Chile. The Nation.
- Kurtz, L. (2009). Chile: Struggle against a military dictator (1985-1988). International Center on Nonviolent Conflict.
- Merloe, P. (2023). Standing with Democracy over Military Dictatorship: Chile’s 1988 Presidential Plebiscite. National Democratic Institute.
- Spooner, M. H. (2011). The General’s Slow Retreat: Chile After Pinochet. University of California Press.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 2010-2015
Location: Tunisia
Main Actors: Tunisian General Labour Union (UGTT)
Tactics
- General strikes
- Protective Presence
- Assemblies of protest or support

Between 1987-2011, Tunisia was an autocracy ruled by Zine El Abidine Ben Ali. Under Ben Ali, opposition parties, civil society activists, and journalists were repressed, harassed, exiled, and tortured. Tunisian elections were unfree and unfair: Ben Ali either ran for the presidency unopposed, placed restrictions on opposition candidates, or used legal instruments and state media to guarantee his re-election. Tunisia’s woeful economy and authoritarianism motivated the self-immolation of street vendor Mohamed Bouazizi in 2010. This prompted mass protests throughout the country that became the Tunisian or “Jasmine” revolution, leading to Ben Ali’s resignation as well as Tunisia’s partial democratization. Tunisia’s revolution diffused throughout the Middle East and North Africa, helping to inaugurate the wider “Arab Spring.”

The Tunisian General Labour Union (UGTT), founded in 1946 and representing over a million workers, served as a key pillar of support for Ben Ali’s regime. However, it walked a fine line between support and opposition. On the one hand, UGTT is closely connected to the Tunisian people: it played a key role in the 1952-56 anti-colonial struggle and has consistently opposed the imposition of neoliberal economic policies. On the other hand, Ben Ali successfully co-opted many of UGTT’s top leaders into the state apparatus, showering them with privileges and blackmailing those who threatened his authority. 

At the beginning of Tunisia’s 2010 protests, UGTT’s secretary general met with Ben Ali and pledged continued union support. However, as the Ben Ali regime increasingly repressed and killed protesters --including many union members-- UGTT leaders opted for a more confrontational policy. For example, in January 2011, UGTT began authorizing local unions to call strikes as they saw fit, which led to a huge growth in strikes across the country. As protests grew, so too did defections among Tunisian governing elites as well as among the security forces, many of whom refused to harm protesters. 

UGTT’s well-established infrastructure enabled it to play an indispensable role in Tunisia’s revolution. For one, its leadership helped organize and coordinate strikes between the various national, regional, and local union branches. As a multi-sector union, UGTT brought together factory workers, bureaucrats, physicians, lawyers, human rights activists, and even the unemployed. During the revolution, UGTT offices across Tunisia served as a strategic meeting place for those organizing protests as well as a refuge for protesters who sought to avoid state violence. Protesters would often begin activities outside UGTT’s headquarters in the capital Tunis. Another crucial function served by UGTT was to give the protests a more explicitly political framing: as Yousfi (2021) shows in interviews with protesters, UGTT helped transform popular demands from improving the economy to Ben Ali’s outright resignation. 

UGTT’s pro-democracy actions did not cease after Ben Ali’s resignation. To the contrary, it continued to push for resignations among the rest of Ben Ali’s authoritarian government that remained after he fled to Saudi Arabia. UGTT helped ensure order and peace during a period of instability. The assassination of several Tunisian politicians in 2013 threatened to undo Tunisia’s democratic gains. In response, UGTT formed the “Tunisian National Dialogue Quartet” with three other civil society organizations. Together, the Quartet helped accelerate the adoption of Tunisia’s 2014 democratic constitution as well as the holding of democratic elections. The Quartet was later awarded the 2015 Nobel Peace Prize.

Despite the democratic gains made during and after the Jasmine revolution, democracy has been fragile in Tunisia. In 2015, incumbent president Kais Saied invalidated the new constitution, dissolved parliament, and dismantled the Constitutional Court. Some observers worry that UGTT has lost some of its revolutionary zeal and failed to attend to workers’ interests in democracy. Others insist that despite UGTT’s shortcomings, there are few entities that can effectively challenge Saied’s authoritarianism.

Democracy organizers in the US can learn much from the example set by Tunisia’s UGTT. For one, UGTT’s coalition against the Ben Ali dictatorship was quite broad, including not only wealthy and poor workers but also those without work. Mobilizing across income brackets is crucial at a time when autocrats in the US and elsewhere make populist appeals to those for whom the economy is not working. Second, the Tunisian case highlights the importance of strategic imperatives in pro-democracy action: UGTT leaders may or may not have been committed to democracy as a moral issue, but what was crucial was that they feared losing the Tunisian people’s support. Similarly in the US, politicians and other elites who support autocrats must understand the potential risks --electoral, economic, or otherwise-- of doing so. Relatedly, the Tunisia case shows that a history of compliance with autocrats does not preclude pro-democratic action: many UGTT leaders had been co-opted in the Ben Ali regime yet still found ways to distance themselves from it in service of democracy. Finally, despite the weakening of unions in US national politics, they are not irrelevant. Many of the problems felt most acutely by ordinary Americans are driven by economic concerns that unions may help to address. The recent wave of strikes across the US and renaissance of union organizing is a testament to their continuing importance for democracy.

Where to Learn More
- Beinin, J. (2020). Arab Workers and the Struggle for Democracy. Jacobin.
- Benn, S. (2024). The Power of Labor: Tunisia’s trade union and the Arab Spring. theSquare.
- Chayes, S. (2014). How a Leftist Labor Union Helped Force Tunisia’s Political Settlement. Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.
- Cordall, S.S. (2022). Tunisia’s Powerful Labor Union Is Thwarting President Saied’s Ambitions. Foreign Policy.
- Yousfi, H. (2023). Organization and organizing in revolutionary times: The case of Tunisian General Labor Union. Organization, 30(4), 624-648.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 1982-1986
Location: The Philippines
Main Actors: Armed Forces of the Philippines, Reform of the Armed Forces Movement (RAM), Fidel Ramos, Juan Ponce Enrile
Tactics
- Selective refusal of assistance by government aides
- Mutinies by government personnel
- Blocking of lines of command and information by government personnel

The Philippines became increasingly authoritarian during the 1965-86 tenure of President Ferdinand Marcos. Between 1972-1981, the Marcos regime ruled under martial law, suspending parliament and censoring the media. Marcos justified these measures by exaggerating the threat of communist and Muslim insurgencies. Under this pretext, the Marcos regime committed grave human rights abuses, including torture, extrajudicial killings, and forced dissapearances. The 1986 presidential election, Marcos’ last before fleeing the country, was marked by widespread fraud and state violence.

The armed forces were a key pillar propping up Marcos’ dictatorship, detaining and repressing those who threatened his grip on power. Officers were promoted, dismissed, and reshuffled in accordance with their loyalty to Marcos. In the mid-1980s, a dissatisfied military faction formed the Reform the Armed Forces Movement (RAM). RAM became a haven for key military defectors, including Defense Minister Juan Ponce Enrile and Chief of the Philippine Constabulary Fidel Ramos.

One month after the unfree and unfair 1986 election, RAM, under the leadership of Enrile, planned a coup against the Marcos regime. The coup was aborted after officers loyal to Marcos preempted it. However, the coup-plotters retreated to and occupied multiple military camps, namely Camp Aguinaldo and Camp Crane. There they engaged in a standoff with the loyalist forces.

During the standoff, RAM’s leadership coordinated with Catholic Cardinal Jaime Sin as well as civilian political leaders, meeting secretly at their respective homes. Sin called on Filipinos to stand together against Marcos via the church-run Radio Veritas. Millions of unarmed citizens gathered to protect the RAM leadership, forming human barricades at the military camps. Marcos ordered his troops to fire on the protesters, which the troops refused to do. Defections began to spread throughout the armed forces, particularly the Air Force and Marines. As the military, Filipino society, and the US withdrew its support, Marcos fled the country in February 1986, going into exile in Hawaii.

The Philippines’ “People Power” revolution was one of the 20th century’s most successful nonviolent uprisings, inspiring protesters at Tiananmen Square, the 1989 revolutions in Eastern Europe, and the Arab Spring. Filipinos ousted a dictator who had been in power for over two decades and enjoyed extensive US support. And despite the crucial role played by the armed forces, People Power inaugurated a civilian administration. Nevertheless, democracy in the Philippines has not consolidated since Marcos’ ouster and there have been multiple attempted military coups.

US democracy organizers can learn much from the military’s actions during People Power. For one, the security sector can be an important ally in the fight against dictatorship, this in contrast to the assumption that soldiers favor strongmen leaders promising stability. Filipino military elites demonstrated powerfully their opposition to Marcos’ election-rigging and repression of unarmed civilians. At the same time, their behaviors were shaped and influenced by the mass mobilization of Filipino civilians, who demonstrated a collective rejection of the Marcos dictatorship through disciplined nonviolent action. Moreover, their commitment to democracy need not be exclusively moral: elites from the security, business, and religious pillars were strategically committed to both preventing communist and Islamist forces from gaining power and to retaining US financial and military support (Mendoza 2009). 

A second lesson is that pro-democracy movements are more likely to succeed when they mobilize a large and diverse set of supporters. The Philippines’ security sector not only worked against Marcos but coordinated their actions with business elites and high-ranking Catholic leaders. All three pillars worked alongside and protected the popular protesters. 

Where to Learn More
- Amnesty International (2022). “EDSA People Power Revolution.” 
- Mendoza, A. (2009). “‘People Power’ in the Philippines, 1983–86.” In A. Roberts & T. G. Ash (Eds.), Civil resistance and power politics: the experience of non-violent action from Gandhi to the present. Oxford University Press.
- Tesoro, J.M., & Saludo, R. (1996). “The Legacy of People Power.” AsiaWeek.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 202-2024
Location: Budapest, Hungary
Main Actors: Tanítanék NGO, Hungarian teachers, students, and parents
Tactics
- Assemblies of protest or support
- Human chains
- Destruction of Government Documents

Hungarian democracy has significantly eroded since Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s Fidesz party won the 2010 elections. Owing to its parliamentary super-majority, Fidesz has frequently changed the constitution and Hungary’s electoral law in its favor. Meanwhile, opposition legislators have been barred from introducing new bills or amendments. Fidesz has gerrymandered electoral districts and created fake parties to overwhelm its opponents (Kornai 2015). Hungarian news media are extremely favorable to Fidesz and its vision of illiberal Christian nationalism. Orbán denounces “Western” human rights as a ruse for national suicide and Islamic fundamentalism.

The Orbán administration has centralized its control over Hungary’s education system. Much as in the US, many right-wing Hungarians see schools and universities as incubators of left-wing ideologies relating to gender, race, and the economy. Under Fidesz, the autonomy of schools and teachers to choose their curriculum has been greatly narrowed. Teachers who have gone on strike demanding fair pay have been fired, arrested, and violently repressed by security forces. In addition, they have been denounced as a cover for George Soros and his progressive agenda, a common anti-semitic charge by Orbán and Hungarian elites.

Five teachers were fired in September 2022 for going on strike. The next month, tens of thousands of teachers, parents, and students staged multiple protests. Their goals broadened from restoring the dismissed teachers specifically to increasing educators’ salaries and resisting Orbán’s authoritarianism more generally.

The Hungarian protests showcased very creative forms of resistance. For example, students formed a human chain through the capital and blocked a key bridge for several hours. They marched to the Interior Ministry building, throwing garbage at a life-sized effigy of the head minister and burning official letters sent to teachers warning them not to protest. And they chanted “We are not afraid” and “Orbán get out.” The October protests were some of Hungary’s largest since the end of communism in 1989.

Hungarian civil society has played a key role in sustaining the protesters. An organization called Tanítanék (meaning “I wish to teach” in Hungarian) was founded in 2016 by Kata Törley, one of the teachers fired in September 2022. Tanítanék works to improve teachers’ income and right to strike. It has enjoyed popular success through digital organizing and the building of mailing lists, the latter of which is over 90,000 large. Tanítanék has used its funds to hire permanent staff, support striking teachers and those engaged in civil disobedience who have been arrested, and create a media portal.

Teachers, parents, students, and citizens have done much to raise awareness of Fidesz’s autocracy and centralization over the education system. However, the erosion of democratic freedoms and active repression of protesters has complicated efforts to organize an effective response to the Orbán regime. Fidesz’s control over nearly all branches of the state has weakened both opposition parties and civil society more generally.

In spite of Hungary’s worrying prognosis, US democracy organizers can draw several lessons from the efforts of Hungarian teachers. For one, the teachers built a large and diverse coalition that included students, parents, and concerned citizens, whose views cut across political and ideological divides. In other words, people from all walks of life either attend school or have school-aged children. US democracy organizers could benefit from thinking in terms of such broad shared interests. Second, the Hungarian teachers deployed a host of creative and bold tactics, from throwing garbage to blocking bridges to burning threatening letters from the state. US organizers need not confine their work to e.g., encouraging voting for pro-democracy candidates, but can draw on a wealth of tactical options.

Where to Learn More
- Faludy, A. (2022). Hungary’s Education Protests of Limited Threat to Orban. Balkan Insight.
- Kornai, J. (2015) Hungary's U-turn: Retreating from Democracy. Journal of Democracy, 26(3): 34-48.
- McNeil, Z. (2024). Lessons on Challenging Authoritarianism from the Hungarian Teachers Movement. Waging Nonviolence.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: 2019-2023
Location: Brazil, especially Rio de Janeiro
Main Actors: Federation of Industries of the State of São Paulo, Instituto Ethos, Sistema B
Tactics: 
- Declarations by organizations and institutions
- Signed public statements
- Boycotts of government departments, agencies, and other bodies

Brazil became less free and democratic during Jair Bolsonaro’s presidency (2019-2022). During his campaign, Bolsonaro attacked Afro-Brazilians, women, and indigenous peoples, while expressing nostalgia for Brazil’s military dictatorship (1964-85). While in office, journalists and civil society activists were harassed and faced violence. Bolsonaro threatened Supreme Court justices and publicly opposed independent checks on his power. Brazil’s disastrous COVID-19 response was heightened by Bolsonaro’s efforts to suppress public data about cases and fatalities as well as his promotion of the ineffective drug hydroxychloroquine.

In January 2023, after Bolsonaro was defeated by President Lula da Silva, around 5,000 Bolsonaro supporters attacked federal buildings in the capital, Brasília, to disrupt the transfer of power. The rioters were motivated by misinformation about the election and many sought to reinstate military rule. Brazil’s January attack, which not incidentally mirrored the US’ January 6 capitol attack, drew widespread condemnation.

Bolsonaro enjoyed extensive support from leaders of the business pillar during and after his time in office. Compared to his main opponent --the left-leaning Workers’ Party (PT)-- Bolsonaro’s privatizations, efforts to reduce public sector pensions, and support for Amazon’s deforestation were popular among business elites. More generally, economic concerns were crucial in polarizing Brazilian society and tempting many to embrace Bolsonaro. Indeed, the 2014-16 recession was the worst in Brazilian history. 

In spite of broad business support, influential members of the business pillar did make statements and take actions in response to Bolsonaro’s anti-democratic behavior. For example, in August 2022, the Federation of Industries of the State of São Paulo --a business association representing over 100,000 industries-- authored a letter called “In Defense of Democracy and Justice.” The letter, which was published in 5 national newspapers, garnered over 100 signatories, including businesses, NGOs, unions, and universities. Key among its themes were the importance of Brazil’s judiciary and electoral court --institutions that Bolsonaro repeatedly attacked-- in strengthening both democracy and the economy. The letter emphasized that strong democratic institutions can help mitigate recessions, inflation, and under-development, independent of which political party is in office. In this way, the Federation both took a non-partisan approach and appealed to concrete business interests.

Additional examples can be drawn from publications by Instituto Ethos, a business-led civil society organization. In March 2020, it published a piece denouncing Bolsonaro’s COVID-19 policy as authoritarian and his actions as constituting executive aggrandizement. It urged all Brazilian citizens and institutions to ignore Bolsonaro’s recommendations. One month later, Instituto Ethos denounced Bolsonaro’s politicization of the police, which involved appointing a close ally and family friend as director-general of the Federal Police. Instituto argued that Bolsonaro would use the appointment to unlawfully access intelligence reports and shield his family from corruption investigations. The statement was prudent to highlight an issue related to crime, which also polarized Brazilian society before Bolsonaro’s election and swelled his support. 

Finally, in August 2022, Instituto Ethos published a piece denouncing businesses who expressed support for a coup if Bolsonaro wasn’t reelected, stating in no uncertain terms that these do not represent the private sector. Much like with the Federation of Industries letter, Instituto emphasized that democracy is essential to a strong economy and urged businesses to help disseminate high-quality information about elections and encourage voting. It also launched a guide with recommendations for pro-democracy business actions with respect to elections. 

A third example comes from Sistema B, a Latin American coalition of businesses committed to ethical and sustainable practices. In October 2018, Brazil’s Sistema B branch denounced Bolsonaro’s efforts to deregulate the environment. For the firms that make up Sistema B, Bolsonaro had undermined democratic values of accountability, transparency, and the public good.

The campaign against Bolsonaro by Brazil’s business pillar likely played a role in Lula da Silva’s presidential victory. Bolsonarism was dealt a further blow when Brazil’s Superior Electoral Court banned him from seeking reelection until 2030. It should also be noted that Bolsonaro’s administration became increasingly unpopular and was perceived as inept, especially with respect to its COVID policy. 

Democracy advocates in the US can learn much from the examples set by Brazil’s business pillar. A first lesson is that successful campaigns will mobilize many different kinds of interests, as was the case with the Federation of Industries letter, whose signatories included trade unions, banking federations, and bar associations. US businesses --from large corporations to small firms and everything in between-- should be similarly persuaded that autocracy harms the economy and their daily operations. A second lesson is that pillar-specific language can be very effective in garnering legitimacy and avoiding perceptions of partisanship. Brazilian pro-democracy businesses appealed in non-partisan terms to the imperatives of combating inflation and under-development. Finally, although businesses may be very effective when appealing to economic issues, they can also play a key role in promoting more traditional democracy issues, as demonstrated by Instituto Ethos’ efforts to combat misinformation and encourage voter turnout. 

Where to Learn More
- Cameron, C. (2023). The attack on Brazil’s seat of government resembles the storming of the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. New York Times.
- Hunter, W., & Power, T. J. (2019). Bolsonaro and Brazil's illiberal backlash. Journal of democracy, 30(1), 68-82
- Smith, A. E. (2020). COVID vs. Democracy: Brazil's Populist playbook. Journal of Democracy, 31(4), 76-90.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.

The Horizons Project and Beyond Conflict partnered to create this video on 'The Brain on Authoritarianism' to support broad-based "united front" organizing in response to the rising authoritarian threat in the US and globally. Better understanding the brain's response to fear, toxic othering, and threats to social identity will help pro-democracy organizers to confront the authoritarian playbook and come together across difference to work more effectively towards a multi-racial, pluralistic, and inclusive democracy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bp9Qg3OXp6g

*By Adam Fefer
Time Period: June 2000
Location: Venezuela
Main Actors: Venezuelan Military Officers
Tactics
- Selective social boycott

Venezuela began a long, sad road towards authoritarianism and economic crisis during Hugo Chávez’s presidency (1999-2013). The 1998 election ended four decades of competitive two-party politics in Venezuela. Chávez, a military officer who had been imprisoned in 1992 for plotting a coup d'état, won the 1998 election without a mainstream nomination. During his campaign, Chávez deployed populist rhetoric against a corrupt and unequal system that could no longer meet voters’ needs, for example calling to “fry” his opponents. 

After his 1998 victory, Chávez moved to rewrite the constitution, slowly eroding Venezuela’s system of checks and balances. He then proceeded to dismiss the Supreme Court and legislature. Chávez’s military allies and former coup-plotters were tapped as ministers of defense, transport, and taxation, as well as state governors and directors of Venezuela’s secret police. Regional army commands were empowered to oversee elected officials. Many such appointments were made without legislative approvals. Meanwhile, military courts largely shielded human rights abusers from civil prosecution.

During Venezuela's 2000 election, opposition parties had a strong showing. This competitive atmosphere helped opponents raise awareness of Chávez’s undemocratic attempts to consolidate power. Although he won the election, some of Chávez’s key military advisors deserted him during the campaign. In June, a ceremony was held for 93 retiring officers who were to receive the military’s highest honors. In opposition to Chávez’s power-grabbing and military interference, 42 of the 93 officers did not attend the ceremony. 

The retiring officers’ boycott did not ostensibly hamper Chávez’s efforts to consolidate power alongside his military allies. It was relatively small-scale and was not followed up by any observable additional resistance tactics. However, the boycott sent a strong signal that Chávez’s actions violated norms of Venezuelan democracy. Democracy organizers in the US could benefit from further studying acts of resistance among Venezuela’s armed forces, especially in light of Donald Trump’s attempts to politicize the US military.

Where to Learn More

• Freedom House. (2001). “Freedom in the World: 2000-2001.”
• Human Rights Watch. (2013). “Venezuela: Chávez’s Authoritarian Legacy.” 
• Kronick, D., Plunkett, B., & Rodriguez, P. L. (2023). “Backsliding by surprise: the rise of 
• Chavismo.” Political Science Research and Methods, 11(4), 838-854.
• Schaffer, M. (2023). “Trump Politicized the Military. Was That the Real Problem With the Jan. 6 Response?” Politico.

You can access all the caselets from the Pillars of Support Project here.