Peter Flynn’s gracefully written volume takes its place as the best history of postwar Brazilian politics. Although the book includes a one hundred-page survey of political evolution before 1945, three- quarters of this large work is devoted to the years between 1945 and 1977. It is based on a thorough knowledge of the monographic literature, drawing on specialized works by such authors as Alfred Stepan, Raouf Kahil, Ronald Schneider, and Robert Levine. As the book approaches the present, especially post-1968, the author inevitably must rely on more journalistic sources.
Flynn confines himself primarily to a narrative account of successive governments, political leaders and, for post-1964, important non-elected decision-makers such as military officers and technocrats. The author seeks to be revisionist, frequently distinguishing his approach from that of functionalist social scientists. He argues that the key to understanding modern Brazil lies in an analysis of class relations; yet he is unable to pursue that approach in depth because of the political emphasis he has chosen to give the book. At critical junctures social class behavior is introduced, with relatively little supporting evidence, as the explanatory factor: the Revolution of 1930 was a “bourgeois movement” (p. 61) and the coup of 1937 aided the “interests of the centralizing, urban, industrial bourgeoisie” (p. 88). The result is that often Flynn seems to be summoning up class conflict as a deus ex machina. One has the feeling that the “real” story is to be found elsewhere (perhaps in part in the author’s previous articles). Even within this context, the picture of a bold industrial bourgeoisie, relentlessly seeking hegemony in the civil society, seems overdrawn. Elsewhere Flynn seems on surer ground when he emphasizes the continuous protection of rural interests, including the ever-important coffee growers, long after 1930.
As Flynn approaches the present, he wades into the tangled debate over the relative “class consciousness” of Brazilian workers. Arguing that it was greater than commonly acknowledged, he cites strike activity in the late 1950s and early 1960s. The author then argues strongly that the João Goulart of 1963-1964 was rational and courageous in not deserting his political base—the radical labor and student movements. This creates an obvious ambiguity. On the one hand, Flynn argues that the democratic period of 1946-1964 was merely another form of the essentially authoritarian character of modern Brazilian politics. Yet he also describes 1964 as the “most far-reaching and decisive confrontation in modern Brazilian politics” (p. 311), and later argues that a resort to outright authoritarian rule was not required for a program that could control inflation and resume economic growth (p. 516). But Flynn’s earlier emphasis on class relations would seem to have sealed the fate of Goulart. In his final chapter, the author draws back from his own determinism, and points to nationalist elements within the military as a possible hope for the future.
My comments, stimulated by Flynn’s revisionist approach, in no way detract from an endorsement of the book’s value. It is an intelligent, carefully crafted synthesis which offers profitable reading for anyone seeking to understand contemporary Brazil. Its extensive footnotes and strongly argued interpretations will prove stimulating for all who wish to probe more deeply into the political labyrinth of Latin America’s largest nation.