Since Eric J. Hobsbawm “created” bandit studies with his social bandit model, other scholars have been testing his ideas in a variety of historical settings. Lewis Taylor has written a small, stimulating volume that adds colorful and provocative details to our understanding of banditry in Latin America. It ties together important strains of criminal behavior, paternalism, political violence, clientelism, and factional feuding. And the subjects of the study—bandits and local elites of Cajamarca province in Peru—are fascinating in their own right.
The volume is disappointing only because of its brevity and its failure to elaborate a broader context for the Peruvian case. It is brief (114 pages of text), and tantalizes the reader wishing to know more. While the introduction ably summarizes recent historiography and concepts on banditry, the subsequent text and conclusion fail to pursue or develop important comparative and analytical themes. The book could have contributed to a more searching critique of Hobsbawm’s model, and it could have offered more comparative and conceptual analysis beyond the summary in the introduction. For example, the introduction makes clear that the author understands the exposition of political banditry during the Colombian Violencia made by Gonzalo Sánchez and Donny Meertens. The concept would seem to fit well with the Peruvian case, but Taylor fails to utilize or build on it.
Taylor also recognizes the important clientelist ties between rural elites and bandits in Brazil, Colombia, and elsewhere. The rich Peruvian data beg for some comparative commentary. In short, another 20 pages placing the fascinating events of Hualgayoc in the broader Latin American context of rural social conflict and banditry would have added greatly to the book. Taylor’s presentation nicely complements and supports recent work on banditry by a number of scholars (see my edited volume Bandidos: The Varieties of Latin American Banditry [1987]).
Having said that I want more, let me hasten to add that Taylor’s narrative is rich, engrossing, and provocative. The central figures of the study are powerful rural landlords, notably Eleodoro Benel. A combination of political patronage from above and bandit followers from below kept local elites in power for decades. Taylor thoroughly debunks the image of Benel as a principled revolutionary, “Cajamarca’s Pancho Villa.” Instead, Benel is revealed as one of many grasping, petty tyrants whose main goal was self-aggrandizement.
Most fascinating is the revelation of clear links—indeed a mutual dependency—between bandits and local elites. Various elite factions—principally those for and against Benel—combined political spoils with bandit activity to build their coalitions. Taylor shows how national politics alters the balance of local power. Personal and factional feuding was so central to life in Cajamarca that some Peruvians supported the invading Chileans during the War of the Pacific in order to weaken their local political opponents.
Making good use of the province’s prefectural and judicial archives, Taylor presents the world view of local caudillos. Many quotations from official correspondence convey their opinions and bring life to the political narrative. The reader gains insights that arouse understanding and occasional empathy for the various actors. The author concludes that, when viewed through the lens of local events in Hualgayoc, politics in Peru moved from personalist and localist to institutional and national during the early decades of the twentieth century. He ably captures the drama and conflict of this transition. This book is an excellent, if too brief, case study. It will well serve scholars of Latin American politics and social deviance. Students, if prepared with a list of major players and their allegiances, could learn much about the realities of Latin American political life from it.
