A prominent feature of Spain's response to the rebellions of its Latin American colonies, both during the constitutional régime of 1810–1814 and the absolutist system of Ferdinand VII from 1814–1820, was wide-spread bureaucratic confusion. When José García de Léon y Pizarro became Secretary of State in 1816, he found the whole question of the pacification of America in a deplorable state which had reached ‘un punto de exasperación increíble’1 In a Council of State session of December 1816, the Navy Minister, José Vázquez de Figueroa, angrily denounced the red tape and inefficient administrative system in which decisions were lost in ‘una verdadera lucha de papeles’.2

On January 28, 1808, the ports of Brazil, hitherto restricted to Portuguese vessels, were thrown open to direct trade with all friendly nations. Two months later, the ban on manufacturing in the colony was lifted. In October the Banco do Brasil was authorized as a bank of issue designed to supply the government's credit needs and to foster internal and external trade. The most urgent financial needs of the Portuguese government, which in November 1807 had fled to its American colony in order to escape the invading forces of Napoleon I, were met by negotiating a loan in London, the leading market for capital in the Atlantic economy. Two years later, in 1810, the Portuguese government signed a treaty with Great Britain admitting British goods into Brazil at a standard duty of 17 per cent for the next fifteen years.

The crisis of 1889 has long been seen as a turning point in Brazilian history. Because historians have often examined the Second Empire to defend or attack its successor, they have neglected certain aspects of the crisis. Their explanations have stressed that leaders of the minuscule and divided Republican Party took advantage of long standing grievances between senior officers and civilian politicians when they urged an ailing general to depose the monarchy on the 15th of November. They have, therefore, emphasized the role of the army in creating the conditions for a coup d'etat, and its preeminence in the Republic until 1889. In doing so, they have underestimated the powerful economic forces which underpinned the Imperial government. They have also overestimated those which supported the republican leaders of São Paulo, the self-confessed beneficiaries of the coup. Since they have also understated the fluidity of political allegiances in this period, its history has become too narrow and too deterministic, with the army depicted as the engine of ‘a change from Ancien Régime to a bourgeois society’.

Historians of U.S.-Mexican relations are confronted by a conundrum in the Punitive Expedition of 1916–1917. Ostensibly motivated by the attack of General Francisco ‘Pancho’ Villa upon Columbus, New Mexico on March 9, 1916, the expedition traditionally has been evaluated in terms of its supposed mission. The puzzle lies in the fact that President Woodrow Wilson publicly told the American and Mexican people one thing and privately told his field commander, John J. Pershing, quite another. Wilson's press release on the morning of March 10, 1916 announced: ‘An adequate force will be sent at once in pursuit of Villa with the single object of capturing him and putting a stop to his forays’.

In the 1940s Bolivia's mineworkers achieved a major impact in national elections. The electoral system was favourable to them (far more so than after the 1952 National Revolution); they acquired a unified and effective national leadership, with extensive back-up organization in all the main mining camps; they, therefore, began casting their votes as a single block, an expression of mineworkers' exceptional degree of solidarity in various parts of the world; and the political parties that courted their votes were constrained by the demands of their electorate, not only to adopt intransigent language but actually to become more radical in their programmes, recruitment and commitments.

Founded in 1922, the Partido Comunista de Chile (PCCh) had a somewhat chequered career before the mid-1930s.1 Although the prestige of its founder, Luis Emilio Recabarren, and its close ties with organized labour gave the party an early significance, its progress towards becoming an important force in Chilean politics halted abruptly when General Carlos Ibáñez came to power in 1927. Forced into clandestinity by Ibáñez, the party emerged on his downfall in 1931 with its membership vastly reduced, its trade union arm, the Federación Obrera de Chile (FOCH), moribund, and its remaining activists deeply divided by ideological, tactical and personal differences.

Elisabeth Jelin, in an important recent work, has criticized the overconcern in studies of the Latin American working class with the structural determinants of class relations and class activity. As she pointed out, this has tended to lead to a deterministic approach on the part of the social sciences, emphasizing the lack of autonomy of the working class in terms of its failure to construct a comprehensive, radical challenge to the dominant system on the political level and its domination by, and acceptance of, demobilizing, bureaucratic leaderships on the trade union level.