Daniel M. Goldstein: Outlawed: Between Security and Rights in a Bolivian City.
Shakow, Miriam
Daniel M. Goldstein
Outlawed: Between Security and Rights in a Bolivian City
Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2012, 327 pp.
In his new book, Outlawed, Daniel Goldstein examines the daily
experiences of economic insecurity and fear of crime in the poor urban
neighbourhood of Uspha Uspha in Cochabamba, Bolivia. Goldstein argues
that, contrary to common assumptions that the state is absent from
peripheral neighbourhoods of urban Bolivia, residents are in fact
subject to a phantom state that places onerous responsibilities upon
them but provides few benefits. At the same time, poor neighbourhood
denizens are "outlawed": viewed by the state and urban elites
as illegal residents, effectively non-citizens, who, out of savagery,
carry out lynching of accused thieves. Throughout the book, Goldstein
demonstrates that local residents in fact employ a great deal of
creativity in developing practices for nonviolent methods of justice for
confronting people they accuse of theft and violent crime. The book
traces the ambivalence poor residents feel about violent and nonviolent
methods of justice they use when the state fails to fulfill this
responsibility. It places poor urbanites' dilemmas in the context
of larger debates about human rights and community justice.
Concern about crime and the feeling of intense vulnerability it
occasions has become one of the most salient features of daily life in
Bolivia, as in much of Latin America. Many Bolivians have begun calling
upon their governments for a right to "citizen security"
(seguridad ciudadana)--freedom from crime. Goldstein emphasizes that,
despite the rise to power of Evo Morales and the MAS party in 2005 on a
platform of indigenous rights, an end to foreign corporate control over
Bolivian natural resources, and the radical redistribution of wealth,
the daily lives of the very poor in Bolivia have not markedly improved.
Their only forms of employment--as itinerant merchants and underemployed tradespeople--leave them in an economically precarious situation, and
the absence of government infrastructure, police, and other services in
their neighbourhoods leave them subject to a pervasive anxiety about
their physical safety and the sanctity of their hard-earned possessions
and homes. As Goldstein argues, large swaths of urban areas in Bolivia,
as in other Third World countries, are spaces of "organized
abandonment," where residents can find neither government services
in the form of road paving, sewers, streetlights, or a viable way to
title the land they bought to build their homes. Nor can they depend on
police to defend them from theft and violent attacks. At the same time,
Goldstein highlights that these urban residents are subject to some of
the most onerous and frustrating of citizenship responsibilities,
required to navigate labyrinthine bureaucracies to legalize title to
their house plots, to acquire identity cards, or to gain redress for
crimes committed against them. Indigenous residents of Cochabamba's
poor neighbourhoods have been "outlawed" by a state that is
unwilling to extend full citizenship to them while requiring them to
abide by citizenship responsibilities that are impossible to fulfill.
Part of Goldstein's project is to trace local debates in
Bolivia over whether "rights" and "security" must
remain mutually exclusive. The concept of "citizen security,"
in the parlance of the national government under Evo Morales and
transnational development institutions, posits that rights and security
are intertwined, rather than at odds with each other as they had been
during the Cold War. Yet many poor Bolivians fear that human rights,
defined by foreign institutions and Bolivian elites as the sanctity of
individual life, contravene their own rights to live free of fear from
criminals. In Chapter 6, Goldstein observes Uspha Uspha residents'
intense frustration when seeking redress for crimes through local human
rights institutions. While employees of human rights organizations are
more accessible than are the notoriously unhelpful Bolivian police, poor
residents are nonetheless turned away because their problems--having
been sold a house with fraudulent deeds, or trying to recover stolen
goods from their corner store--do not fit the transnational definition
of human rights as state-inflicted harm upon citizens. Goldstein argues
that, although poor residents employ a discourse of human rights when
making broad claims for the redistribution of wealth and indigenous
rights through social movements, when confronting their daily anxiety
about crime they repudiate human rights as providing criminals with
safety and security that they cannot obtain for themselves.
Outlawed also traces the ways in which local residents have become
embroiled in debates over the meaning of "community justice"
(justicia comunitaria) in Bolivia. The Morales administration has
promoted the inclusion of purportedly traditional, rural, and indigenous
forms of justice in the new Bolivian Constitution, passed in 2007. Yet
Goldstein traces how the official notion of "community
justice" is predicated upon a static and bounded idea of indigenous
culture that limits "indigenous" identity to rural folk. When
poor urban residents claim, meanwhile, that lynching is a legitimate
form of "community justice," they are repudiated by more elite
Bolivians on the basis that poor urbanites, by definition, cannot be
indigenous and, therefore, cannot legitimately carry out "community
justice."
While disputing that lynchings constitute community justice,
Goldstein also shows that locally organized practices of justice-making
in Bolivia have always been flexible and provisional. He further
demonstrates that, contrary to representations of poor city residents as
"savages" who participate in lynchings, most residents neither
participate in lynchings nor condone violence against suspected
criminals. He demonstrates how the residents of poor barrios have in
fact creatively combined repertoires of action from various
sources--detective TV shows, faint memories of their natal rural
communities, and stereotypes of indigenous people--to create their own
provisional means to avoid violence. Goldstein offers an astute and
useful analysis of the eclectic way in which Bolivian urban residents
employ bricolage, the use of different types of tactics from multiple
sources, to deescalate confrontations between residents and accused
thieves and rapists.
He convincingly argues that neighbourhood leaders and residents
creatively respond to crime and fear of crime from multiple ideological,
institutional, and media sources.
In summary, this book provides a thought-provoking examination of
human rights, fear of crime, and the ways in which people create new
forms of justice. Given that it addresses fear of and daily responses to
crime, a central concern of many Latin Americans today, this book will
be widely read by anthropologists as well as those interested in Latin
America, inequality, and "post-neoliberalism." It should also
be adopted in courses on criminal justice and inequality.
Miriam Shakow, The College of New Jersey