The tragedy of progress in the developing world

“These were the best of times, they were the worst of times,” begins Charles Dickens’ 1859 novel, A tale of two citiesabout the French Revolution. The phrase, which so succinctly captures the complexity of life, has become a cliché. But this underestimates its descriptive power: it defines a society caught between two eras, both a France in the process of overthrowing its old regimebut also Dickens’ contemporary Britain, still challenged by the realities of an industrial economy.

Applied to the present, it captures the situations in a wide range of developing countries where decades of steady economic and social progress have nevertheless resulted in riots and political upheaval. Specifically, Kenya, which experienced a summer of widespread unrest ostensibly in opposition to a new financial law; and Bangladesh, where longtime Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina resigned in August following a series of violent protests.

“But shouldn’t these countries be success stories?” many might ask. They are, and that’s the point. Kenya has gone from a rural, tribal society to a much more complex, middle-class society. Bangladesh has gone from one of the poorest countries on earth to one with light industry and dramatically increased literacy. Both are developing the powerful middle classes that are a prerequisite for democracy. Both countries have also quickly emerged as geopolitical powers in their regions. Kenya, with 56 million people, has been designated the most important US ally in sub-Saharan Africa. Bangladesh, with 171 million people (25 million more than Russia, which spans 11 time zones), has also emerged as an important country, especially given the weakening of Myanmar, torn by civil war, next door.

But success only leads to new patterns of instability, including riots and revolutions. This is part of how countries build complex institutions. These societies climb the ladder of success, and the steps include periodic uprisings. No one understood this concept better than the late Harvard political scientist Samuel P Huntington, who made the crooked path of progress in the developing world the theme of his best book, Political order in changing societiespublished in 1968. It is perhaps still the most compelling guide to the rigors of globalization ever published. By reading developing countries through his analysis, we can see the tragedy of their plight—and better understand the path ahead.

Huntington begins by noting how difficult it is for the West to understand this development. The fortunate circumstances of the United States—a stable mass democracy on a resource-rich continent protected by oceans—have led its citizens to believe in what he called the “unity of good,” a collective assumption that national development flows together, to the benefit of all. But this is not the case for much of the rest of the world. In general, “the more rapid the enlightenment of the people, the more frequent the overthrow of the government.” This is why long periods of economic growth and reform, however uneven—and far more so than periods of stagnation and repression—lead to popular uprisings. Growth and change restructure the class system of the developing country.

Kenya and Bangladesh have followed this pattern closely. The governments in both countries, though corrupt and autocratic in important respects, have overseen significant periods of economic growth and, in particular, the creation or expansion of middle classes as people flocked from the countryside to the cities. As another example, Tunisia, where the mass uprising known as the Arab Spring began in 2011, had the most educated middle class of any non-oil Arab country. Middle classes are, quite simply, harder to govern than rural and illiterate peasants. They are not fatalistic and rarely grateful. They have more acquisitive needs and desires and are always demanding more. As Huntington explains, while the existence of a large middle class becomes a moderating force in political life, its genesis can be deeply destabilizing.

The creation of a middle class is of course necessary for well-functioning political institutions, which depend on literate bureaucrats. And the more complex a society becomes, the more such institutions are needed—and efficient ones at that. In less developed societies, loyalty to clans and tribes predominates; in more developed societies, loyalty flows to institutions and the state. Kenya and Bangladesh, and many other societies in the developing world, are moving in this direction. You can see this in what people complain about. Protests over taxation, corruption, and press freedom—which caused much of the summer unrest in Kenya and Bangladesh—are signs that people are demanding higher standards of governance. This is progressive in itself. It is better that they complain about corruption in general than that this tribe should be given more favors than that one.

Corruption is a complex phenomenon in two senses, as Huntington points out. It is a sign of intense modernization, because it indicates that institutions, even as they are being built, cannot meet the demands of the population and that alternative networks are emerging to get things done, while officials are poorly paid and have to draw income from other sources. But corruption is also a sign of perceived “backwardness” in a society, of people who are ashamed of their own state authorities and therefore demand cleaner, more efficient performance. Progress in politics always begins with complaints.

As Isaiah Berlin wrote, “People living in conditions where there is insufficient food, warmth, shelter, and the barest minimum of security can hardly be expected to care about freedom of contract or freedom of the press.” That complaints about the lack of press freedom and protection for journalists are widespread in these societies is a sign of how far they have come in recent decades. The youth-led uprising in Kenya, which began in late June and was accompanied by riots and demonstrations, was not about a tribal or ethnic dispute but about a tax hike that threatened to raise the price of basic goods. When Kenyan President William Ruto repealed the tax, protesters continued to demand his resignation, citing corruption and mismanagement.

In Bangladesh, Sheikh Hasina, in power for two decades and overseeing a dramatic expansion of the economy and middle class, was forced to step down in early August amid repression, democratic backsliding, and the clampdown on press freedom. Once again, issues of famine and communal tensions had little to do with the protests. Those motives are a thing of the past, at least for now. It is also notable that an ambitious youth has played a dominant role in the protests in both countries. They are digitally literate in a new way and are subject to a deeper engagement with global influences. Whereas in the past each country in the developing world was consumed by its own problems, today, thanks to a form of political-cultural globalization, local issues can be subjected to Western norms. This fuels demands for change. Such outside influences have always been there, but not in the direct and intense way that they are now through technology.

This does not make the development process easier: it is even more tumultuous than in the past. Insurgencies, driven by ever-higher standards of governance, are easy—a matter of producing mass formations. Solving the problems that insurgencies oppose is much harder. And that is why building order, through institutions, is more progressive than even holding elections, as Huntington explains. What is needed are more and better institutions, which are painfully difficult and time-consuming to build. The lag between insurgencies and institution-building is the era in which these developing societies will live for some time to come.

“The truly helpless society is not one threatened by revolution, but one incapable of it,” Huntington writes. Countries mired in low-level conflict, communal or territorial conflict—and there are plenty of those—are incapable of mounting a modernizing uprising. Kenya and Bangladesh are more advanced states. But that is the key to their current instability. The best example in history of a truly bloody and extreme uprising was probably the French Revolution, the subject of Dickens, which, despite the high cost in lives, produced a modern, democratic state with civil liberties. Other revolutions, such as those in Russia and Iran, have led to Bolshevism and Islamic radicalism. But that is not what Kenyans and Bangladeshis yearn for. There is little sign of religion or communism in their uprisings: only better governance. The absence of extremism is precisely the sign of healthy modernity.

This is a happy story, if it continues. The problem lies with Western elites who see progress as linear, without the great chicanery of history along the way. But when Joe Biden held a state dinner at the White House in May to honor Ruto and herald Kenya as a key US ally, he was only slightly naive. Biden thought that Kenya and its society had already “arrived”. But Kenya will never “arrive”, it will continue to develop in periodic and tumultuous ways. And that is not a tragedy, but a hope.

(See also: Van Gogh in the Yellow House)