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Jane Esberg
To cite this article: Jane Esberg (2015) Democracy's Effect on Terrorist Organizations: Regime
Type and Armed Group Behavior in Chile, Terrorism and Political Violence, 27:2, 243-267, DOI:
10.1080/09546553.2013.800049
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Terrorism and Political Violence, 27:243–267, 2015
Copyright # Taylor & Francis Group, LLC
ISSN: 0954-6553 print=1556-1836 online
DOI: 10.1080/09546553.2013.800049
JANE ESBERG
Department of Political Science, Stanford University, Stanford,
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California, USA
Former president George W. Bush once stated: ‘‘Freedom and democracy are critical
to defeating terror, because free nations that respect human rights do not breed
hatred, resentment, and the ideologies of murder.’’1 Though the ‘‘Bush Doctrine’’
assumes an inverse link between democracy and terrorism, political science literature
has posited two divergent expectations: the regime-responsive school argues that
autocracy encourages terrorism, because lack of representation leaves no choice
but violence for political expression; the regime-permissive school counters that indi-
vidual liberty in democracies permits operations suppressed by autocratic security
controls.2 In the aftermath of the Arab Spring, the question has renewed relevance—
does democracy help or hinder terrorism?
243
244 J. Esberg
moderate individual liberty; and Patricio Aylwin’s election reinstated both represen-
tation and individual liberty. A historical study of a single case over time has the
advantage of holding constant many environmental variables. Tracing armed group
behaviors over time reveals how shocks to the external environment affect organiza-
tional characteristics. While groups considered self-identify as violent and at some
point use terrorism, analyzing them across periods allows analysis of not only when
they use violence, but when they do not.
This study is not meant to be comprehensive. It aims to contribute to the existing
debate over democracy and terrorism by conceptually reconciling the schools and by
offering new in-depth research on a specific case, drawing on primary source and
historic documents. It focuses on evaluating the schools’ key arguments about rep-
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Figure 1. Relationship between Freedom House political rights and civil liberty scores,
2009–2010.
with minimal transitional instability (Chile) to understand how armed groups respond
to relatively stable governments. As an imperfect illustration, Figure 1 shows the
relationship between Freedom House’s measurements of civil liberties (roughly indi-
vidual liberty) and political rights (roughly representation). This shows 73 occurrences
of a state with low-moderate civil liberties and very low political rights, versus just 3
with low-moderate political rights and very low civil liberties.
success.35 Rational choice views violence as the result of a cost-benefit analysis that
proves it the most expedient path towards a goal.36 These models are not mutually
exclusive: Crenshaw identifies ‘‘varied degrees of limited rationality’’ depending on
the presence of psychological, organizational, or structural constraints.37
Case studies confirm these wide variations in organizational behavior. Ehud
Sprinzak applied organizational theory to the Weather Underground, an American
fringe group that engaged in a ‘‘nonexistent ‘fantasy war.’ ’’38 Organizations that fit
this mold are unlikely to respond to legal pathways for expression. In contrast,
Timothy Ash profiled a Macedonian separatist movement that claimed a sensitive
analysis of the operating context led to political success.39
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Mission
Mission is both a motivator of violence and ‘‘part of the strategic choices of
the organization.’’46 It encompasses broad ideology, context-specific goals, and
Mission þ – – þ
Hierarchy þ –
Membership – þ þ –
Democracy’s Effect on Terrorist Organizations 249
Hierarchy
As the formal structure of an organization, hierarchy is linked to decision-making and
coordination processes.52 Tradeoffs are associated with both centralization and decen-
tralization. An elite structure that hands decisions to a network of militants unifies
command and control and ensures consistent political vision.53 However, centralized
groups are more vulnerable to detection, infiltration, and ‘‘decapitation.’’54 While
making coordination challenging, decentralization prevents any members from know-
ing enough about the organization to risk the entire network if captured.
Because centralization facilitates decision-making, ‘‘terrorists choose [it]
whenever possible.’’55 This does not mean strict verticality, but rather the ability
to maintain a cohesive structure in which certain elites make decisions disseminated
through the organization. I expect greater centralization under higher individual
liberty environments, due to increased freedom of movement and association.
Security controls under low individual liberty environments should prevent the levels
of communication and coordination necessary for a centralized hierarchy.
Membership
Membership reflects the commitment level—a militant’s willingness to use violence,
obey commands, and protect group over personal interests56—and size of the
militant base. Though requiring few members to operate, the ideal size for terrorist
organizations depends on goals and geographic reach. At minimum, they require
enough members to maintain a violent presence; conversely, too large and the
potential for detection and defection rises.57
Membership quality depends on barriers to entry and the broader pool of sup-
porters. Barriers to entry, whether personal sacrifices to join a ‘‘high-risk institution’’
or requirements established by the group (such as training), help ensure high
commitment.58 Too high, however, and groups may be too small to act effectively.
The broader pool of support affects membership in two ways. First, this pool can
be drawn on for new committed members. Second, broader support offers the
250 J. Esberg
militant core an environment in which to operate with reduced fear of being exposed.
This has implications for commitment and size: not only does a broader support base
better ensure member survival, but it also improves abilities to train and mobilize.59
Individual liberty and representation both affect membership. Political frustration
in low representation environments leads to wider support. This expands the recruit-
ment pool, and offers a more conducive operating environment. In high representation
environments, members are more exposed and yet less able to recruit or replace com-
mitted members, given the limited base of support. Low individual liberty also sup-
presses membership: militants face greater risk of capture; individuals face higher
costs for supporting a group, limiting the pool of support in practice; and barriers
to entry are more difficult to enact. By lowering costs of involvement and allowing
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interactions among members, high individual liberty allows groups to impose their
own barriers to entry to ensure commitment while exploiting the full base of support.
Mission:
. Does mission justify the need for violence to achieve long-term goals (i.e., does it
provide a theory of change)?
. Does mission direct violence, by outlining targets and audiences?
Hierarchy:
. Are relationships among members defined?
. Are decisions made at a strategic level and disseminated to militants?
Membership:
. Are members subject to barriers to entry?
. Is there a broader base of support that can produce, replace, and protect
membership?
These three organizational features are deeply intertwined. A clear mission
generates a broader base of support, improving membership; committed member-
ship strengthens hierarchy by limiting chances for decapitation; and a centralized
hierarchy better ensures that mission is sensitive to context.
Based on the relationships above, organizational capacity should be weak
under both high-functioning democracies—due to constraints on mission and
membership—and repressive autocracies, based on constraints on hierarchy and
membership. However, when representation weakens in a democracy or when
individual liberty emerges in an autocracy, organizational capacity can improve.
Frei, 1965–1970
Under Frei, Chile was the most stable democracy in Latin America. Representation
and individual liberty were not only high, but improving: Frei removed the literacy
requirement for voting, offered aid to squatter communities, implemented modest
redistribution policies to aid Chile’s struggling poor, and promoted unionization
and strikes.60
In 1965 the Movement of the Revolutionary Left (MIR) announced itself
‘‘the Marxist-Leninist vanguard of the working class.’’61 Individual liberty permitted
a centralized hierarchy based at the University of Concepción, with decisions made
by core elites and disseminated through a vertical structure. This meant little given
challenges posed by high representation. Its mission failed to justify violence, as
its goals were identical to legal political parties, and did not explain how the Cuban
model could be applied to sprawling, urbanized Chile. Weak popular support meant
membership was confined to campus and suffered from aficionados—militants that
refused to engage in violence. See Table 2.
The MIR began as an ultra-left student movement that united Traditionalists—
believers in an inevitable, unprovoked revolution—and Non-Traditionalists,
who thought the MIR had to initiate guerrilla war. Violence began in 1967, after
Non-Traditionalists achieved majority rule. Primarily this involved robberies,
clashes with police, and tomas, property seizures for squatter communities that fit
neatly into the group’s mission as a mass-based organization. However, the MIR’s
mission did not differentiate it from legal Socialist and Communist parties.62 Frei
himself implemented land redistribution policies that left tomas redundant. Nor
did mission identify a coherent enemy, with rhetoric indiscriminately targeting
socialist ‘‘reformists,’’ Frei, and the bourgeoisie.63
Individual liberty allowed the group a cohesive hierarchy revolving around
a five-student secretariat. Reorganization in 1969 under Secretary General Miguel
252 J. Esberg
Allende, 1970–1973
A split among moderates allowed Allende to win the 1970 elections with less of the
popular vote than when he lost in 1967.69 During his presidency, representation
broke down. Allende implemented socialist reforms without the consent of his legis-
lature, including seizing foreign-owned copper companies without compensation.70
The Chilean Truth and Reconciliation Council (Rettig) Report describes how the
professional sector and opposition parties ‘‘felt abandoned by the mechanisms of
Democracy’s Effect on Terrorist Organizations 253
the state whose purpose was to protect their rights.’’71 Representation rests on all
sides cooperating under a single government; neither the right nor the left would
compromise to ease the prevailing state of ‘‘ungovernability.’’ Individual liberty,
meanwhile, ran high: strikes spread, press outlets contributed to polarization, and
tense relations between Allende and the security sector weakened rule of law.
In this context the MIR and the rightist Fatherland and Liberty Front (PyL)
flourished. By September 1972, 75% of Chileans believed that a climate of violence
existed in the country.72 Weakened representation allowed both groups to justify
violence as protecting its constituencies against opposition and the government,
which the PyL saw as too incompetent to rein in violence and the MIR viewed
as too weak to protect socialism. High individual liberty allowed both to maintain
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centralized hierarchies: the MIR developed a complex national structure, while the
PyL purposefully limited its size and kept decision-making in the hands of a select
few. Both maintained entrance requirements for militants, and ‘‘highly antagonistic’’
relations between the left and right meant both enjoyed large bases of support.73
See Table 3.
During Allende’s first year, the MIR positioned itself as the armed wing of the
government in the event of military coup, adopting the slogan ‘‘Allende understands
you, the MIR defends you.’’74 The president granted amnesty to 40 Miristas
and allowed leaders to emerge from hiding. Within six months, the MIR partnered
with the government to jointly expropriate nearly 1.5 million hectares.75 This permit-
ted rapid territorial expansion, though internal documents later criticized the period
as too focused on physical rather than political growth: many members were uncom-
mitted and involved largely for material gains.76
Weakened representation in Allende’s second year reshaped the MIR. Political
polarization gave credence to warnings of a military coup, and offered clear targets.
After Allende attempted to suppress violence in his final months, the MIR turned
against the government as an instrument of the bourgeoisie. The increased urgency
of its mission led it to refine the strategy behind its attacks: tomas were designed to
encircle Santiago, to cut off the capital in the event of military coup; in August 1973
the MIR cut off radio and television during a presidential speech reassuring the
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detention centers that ranged from holding cells to torture compounds.91 Pinochet
announced: ‘‘the government of the armed forces and police . . . will severely punish
any outbreak of undisciplined behavior.’’92 Despite years of planning for military
takeover, the MIR was devastated by the coup, and by May 1974 the CIA declared
the group ‘‘practically non-existent.’’93 The PyL lay down arms, and no other group
emerged. See Table 4.
Following the coup, the MIR put aside Marxist-Leninism for a more immediate
mission of democracy. It outlined a three-phased approach: a rebuilding phase; an
armed propaganda campaign to show junta fallibility; and the formation of a leftist
coalition.94 This mission presented a theory of change and a clear direction for viol-
ence. However, hierarchy was dismantled as leaders were captured, killed, or
exiled.95 MIR relied on a decentralized network of seven-person Resistance Commit-
tees, leading to an ‘‘inability to communicate.’’96 Only 10 to 15% of militants
remained in Chile.97 A MIR statement highlights how individual liberty restricted
even its non-militant support, as the group struggled to make its presence known:
‘‘Verbal communication and individual agitation will become more important.
Propaganda, as a means to restore hope and confidence to the masses and provide
leadership, still remains fundamental, but carrying it out involves risks.’’98
Despite a mission that justified and directed violence, organizational capacity
was weak because the DINA suppressed MIR hierarchy and membership to the
point that the group could barely function. Motivation could not overcome the loss
of individual liberty. This period also signals the effect of path dependence on group
behavior. No other group emerged, but the MIR could survive, by its own
admission, because of preparations under Allende: ‘‘the different levels of compart-
mentalization have been the key to survival.’’99
MIR leadership wrote that mid-1977 ‘‘marked a turning point.’’103 The MIR
sought to exploit higher individual liberty by smuggling leadership back into Chile
through ‘‘Operation Return,’’ disrupted by security forces. The MIR’s connection
to the violence that left Pinochet in power undermined its broader base of support.
When MIR factions gathered in the early 1980s at the Madre Miguel Enrı́quez
base to restructure its units, only about 30 militants attended.104 In July 1986,
MIR inactivity led to its division into two groups: a nonviolent faction and an
uncoordinated armed group continuing traditional Mirista strategy.105
As the MIR foundered, the FPMR rose to prominence. Its mission justified
violence based directly on lack of alternative means for political expression: ‘‘We
would love to have moved forward through other paths, we would like to be able
to democratically elect our destiny. But when all these paths are closed off . . . no
option remains but to fight.’’106 It maintained no ties to communism, to widen
its support base and to protect the PC.107 The FPMR offered a realistic purpose
for violence: ‘‘We are not dreamers, we don’t aspire to complete annihilation of
the enemy, but we do seek to make their repressive apparatus ineffective.’’108 Central
leadership never made up more than 10% of members, and a 12-person National
Directorate defined the roles of detachments. Individual units did not know the
actions of others. The group ensured commitment by requiring prospective
militants, first act as members of the propagandist Rodriguist Militias.109 By
drawing on the PC’s propagandist mechanism while presenting itself as
non-ideological, the FPMR developed a strong base of support.110 The FPMR
conducted complex, dramatic attacks, such as assassinations and theatrical
bombings, including a nearly successful assassination attempt against Pinochet.111
This provoked a brutal crackdown and a split with the PC; that the FPMR
survived signals its organizational strength.
The MAPU-Lautaros had the broadest mission of the groups, with Pinochet’s
overthrow an intermediate step towards communist revolution. The Lautaros had
a formal hierarchy subordinate to the political wing, and a Central Committee com-
municated instructions to smaller Local Committees.112 Given the MIR and
FPMR’s more moderate presence, its membership drew primarily from poor youths.
The political wing complained of a ‘‘marijuana culture’’ among militants, and
recruits faced no barriers to entry and received no political indoctrination.113
The CNI saw the resurgence of political violence, though only one group
thrived. The FPMR developed a strong organizational capacity: low representation
offered it a mission that justified and guided activities; moderate individual liberty
permitted centralization; and membership benefited from broad support. The PC’s
position on violence illustrates the importance of individual liberty to violence. After
Democracy’s Effect on Terrorist Organizations 257
rejecting the armed path under the DINA, it embraced violence when context
permitted operations. That neither the MIR nor the MAPU-Lautaros thrived
highlights the importance of organizational characteristics: the MIR clung to past
structure rather than innovate, and the MAPU-Lautaros suffered from its mission
258 J. Esberg
and membership’s relative weakness compared to the FPMR. Still, that they could
operate at all highlights the importance of individual liberty in permitting violence.
Aylwin, 1989–1995
When Pinochet called a plebiscite on his rule in 1988, lack of organized opposition
meant victory seemed assured. However, 55% of Chileans voted for elections,
and despite protests from Pinochet’s cabinet, they went ahead.114 Though facing
limitations from Pinochet’s constitutional legacy, Aylwin restored high levels of
representation and individual liberty. He legalized political parties (including,
controversially, the PC) and granted amnesty to political exiles.115 Active inclusion
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The Lautaros were the only group to increase attacks after the transition to
democracy. The MAPU conducted just one attack in 1988, to ten in 1989, to 43
in 1990.126 Its broad mission made it most resilient to the plebiscite: ‘‘We make
war on democracy, not for democracy but for its end!’’127 The mission turned to
‘‘sexual revolution’’ to attract youths, recruiting about 5,000 students.128 However,
this mission did not justify sustained violence, and the group conducted sporadic
260 J. Esberg
activities like the shelling of police stations, bank robberies, and a ‘‘bazaar of
desire.’’129 Hierarchy remained centralized, with much of the leadership continuing
into the democratic period. Lack of entry requirements meant membership was
primarily made up of delinquents and aficionados.130 Arrests of two top leaders dur-
ing a counterterrorism campaign by Aylwin in 1993 virtually ended the group’s
operations.131
The three groups operating under Aylwin suffered a breakdown in organiza-
tional capacity under democracy. Still, continued operations highlight the impor-
tance of path dependence. The FPMR lost its central organizing tenet, yet rather
than lay down arms it attempted to adapt to continue violence. The MIR continued
its downward trajectory, but essentially used operations as a front for criminality.
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The MAPU-Lautaros’ weak mission under the CNI ultimately made it the most
resilient to the new period in organizational capacity, as it depended the least on
context.
Democracy as Counterterrorism
Democracy holds some advantage in undermining terrorism. Suppressing violence
in an autocracy relies on state capacity for repression, to detect a dispersed enemy
and maintain fear among a broader potential support base. This requires economic
and political resources not always available to the state. When the DINA dissolved
in response to international pressure, even somewhat circumscribed individual
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Notes
1. George W. Bush, Joint Statement between the United States and the Republic of
Indonesia, October 22, 2003, http://www.embassyofindonesia.org/ina-usa/statement/
jointstatementmegabush03.htm.
2. Quan Li, ‘‘Does Democracy Promote or Reduce Transnational Terrorist Inci-
dents?,’’ Journal of Conflict Resolution 49, no. 2 (April 2005): 278–297; Martha Crenshaw,
‘‘The Causes of Terrorism,’’ Comparative Politics 13, no. 4 (July 1981): 379–399; William
Eubank and Leonard Weinberg, ‘‘Does Democracy Encourage Terrorism?’’ Terrorism and
Political Violence 6, no. 4 (Winter 1994): 417–443; William Eubank and Leonard Weinberg,
‘‘Terrorism and Democracy: What Recent Events Disclose,’’ Terrorism and Political Violence
10, no. 1 (Spring 1998): 108–118; Joe Eyerman, ‘‘Terrorism and Democratic States: Soft
Targets or Accessible Systems,’’ International Interactions 24, no. 2 (1998): 151–170; Todd
Sandler, ‘‘On the Relationship Between Democracy and Terrorism,’’ Terrorism and Political
Violence 12, no. 2 (Winter 1995): 97–122; Paul Wilkinson, Terrorism and the Liberal State
(New York: NYU Press, 1986); Paul Wilkinson, Terrorism Versus Democracy: The Liberal
State Response (New York: Routledge, 2006); James A. Piazza, ‘‘Do Democracy and Free
Markets Protect us from Terrorism?,’’ International Politics 45 (January 2008): 72–91.
3. David Collier and Steven Levitsky, ‘‘Democracy with Adjectives: Conceptual
Innovation in Comparative Research,’’ World Politics 49, no. 3 (April 1997): 430–451.
4. Christian Davenport, ‘‘Understanding Illiberal Democracies, Liberal Autocracies,
and Everything in Between: a Cross-National Examination from 1972–1996’’ (paper prepared
262 J. Esberg
21. James I. Walsh and James A. Piazza, ‘‘Why Respecting Physical Integrity Rights
Reduces Terrorism,’’ Comparative Political Studies 43, no. 5 (July 2010): 551–577.
22. Alan B. Krueger and Jitka Maleckova, ‘‘Education, Poverty and Terrorism: Is There
a Causal Connection?,’’ The Journal of Economic Perspectives 17, no. 4 (2003): 119–144.
23. Li, ‘‘Does Democracy Promote or Reduce Transnational Terrorist Incidents?’’ (see
note 2 above).
24. Chenoweth, ‘‘Democratic Competition and Terrorist Activity’’ (see note 16 above).
25. Konstantinos Drakos and Andreas Gofas, ‘‘The Devil You Know but Are Afraid to
Face: Underreporting Bias and its Distorting Effects on the Study of Terrorism,’’ The Journal
of Conflict Resolution 50, no. 5 (October 2006): 714–735.
26. Robert Dahl, Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition (New Haven, CT: Yale
University Press, 1971).
27. Steven Levitsky and Lucan A. Way, ‘‘The Rise of Competitive Authoritarianism,’’
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Journal of Democracy 13, no. 2 (April 2002): 51–65; Collier and Levitsky, ‘‘Democracy with
Adjectives’’ (see note 3 above); Juan L. Linz, Totalitarian and Authoritarian Regimes (Boulder,
CO: Lynn Rienner, 2000); Edward N. Muller and Erich Weede, ‘‘Cross-National Variation in
Political Violence: A Rational Action Approach,’’ The Journal of Conflict Resolution 34, no. 4
(1990): 624–651; Jessica L. Weeks, ‘‘Autocratic Audience Costs: Regime Type and Signaling
Resolve,’’ International Organization 62, no. 1 (Winter 2008): 35–64.
28. Nicholas Sambanis, ‘‘A Review of Recent Advances and Future Directions in the
Quantitative Literature on Civil War,’’ Defence and Peace Economics 13, no. 3 (Fall 2002):
215–243; Havard Hegre, Tanja Ellingson, Scott Gates, and Nils Petter Gleditsch, ‘‘Toward
a Democratic Civil Peace? Democracy, Political Change, and Civil War, 1816–1992,’’
American Political Science Review 95, no. 1 (March 2001): 33–48; James D. Fearon and David
D. Laitin, ‘‘Ethnicity, Insurgency and Civil War,’’ American Political Science Review 97, no. 1
(February 2003): 75–90.
29. James Raymond Vreeland, ‘‘The Effect of Political Regime on Civil War:
Unpacking Anocracy,’’ The Journal of Conflict Resolution 52, no. 3 (June 2008): 401–405.
30. Jessica L. Weeks, ‘‘Autocratic Audience Costs: Regime Type and Signaling Resolve,’’
International Organization 62, no. 1 (Winter 2008): 35–64.
31. F. Gregory Gause III, ‘‘Can Democracy Stop Terrorism?’’ Foreign Affairs 84, no. 5
(September=October 2005): 4.
32. Paul Collier, Anke Hoeffler, and Dominic Rohner, ‘‘Beyond Greed and Grievance:
Feasibility and Civil War,’’ Oxford Economic Papers 61, no. 1 (January 2009): 1–27; Paul
Collier and Anke Hoeffler, ‘‘Greed and Grievance in Civil War,’’ Oxford Economic Papers
56, no. 4 (2004): 563–595; Fearon and Laitin, ‘‘Ethnicity, Insurgency and Civil War’’ (see
note 28 above); Indra de Soysa, ‘‘Paradise is a Bazaar? Greed, Creed and Governance in Civil
War, 1989–99,’’ Journal of Peace Research 39, no. 4 (July 2002): 395–416.
33. Doug McAdam, John D. McCarthy, and Mayer N. Zald, eds., Comparative
Perspectives on Social Movements (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996);
Ted Robert Gurr, Why Men Rebel (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1970); Doug
McAdam, Political Process and the Development of Black Insurgency (Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1982); J. Craig Jenkins and Charles Perrow, ‘‘Insurgency of the Powerless:
Farm Worker Movements (1946–1972),’’ American Sociological Review 42, no. 2 (April 1977):
249–268; Colin J. Beck, ‘‘The Contribution of Social Movement Theory to Understanding
Terrorism,’’ Sociology Compass 2, no. 5 (2008): 1565–1581.
34. David C. Rapoport, ‘‘Introduction,’’ Inside Terrorist Organizations (London: Cass
Publishing, 2001): 1–12; Martha Crenshaw, ‘‘Theories of Terrorism: Instrumental and
Organizational Approaches,’’ in David C. Rapoport, ed., Inside Terrorist Organizations
(New York: Columbia University Press 1988), 13–31; James Q. Wilson, Political Organizations
(New York: Basic Books 1973).
35. Jerrold M. Post, ‘‘Terrorist Psycho-logic: Terrorist Behavior as a Product of
Psychological Forces,’’ in Walter Reich, ed., Origins of Terrorism: Psychologies, Ideologies,
Theologies, States of Mind (Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson Center 1990), 25–40; Ariel
Merari and Nehemia Friedland, ‘‘Social Psychological Aspects of Political Terrorism,’’
in Applied Social Psychology Annual 6 (London: Sage, 1985), 185–205.
36. Martha Crenshaw, ‘‘The Logic of Terrorism: Terrorist Behavior as a Product of
Strategic Choice,’’ in Walter Reich, ed., Origins of Terrorism: Psychologies, Ideologies, Theologies,
264 J. Esberg
States of Mind (Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson Center 1990), 7–24; Kydd and Walter, ‘‘The
Strategies of Terrorism’’ (see note 15 above).
37. Crenshaw, ‘‘The Logic of Terrorism’’ (see note 36 above), 7.
38. Sprinzak, ‘‘The Psychopolitical Formation of Extreme Left Terrorism in a Democracy’’
(see note 15 above), 85.
39. Timothy Garton Ash, ‘‘Is There a Good Terrorist?’’ The New York Review of Books,
November 1, 2001, http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2001/nov/29/is-there-a-
good-terrorist/?pagination=false.
40. U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation.
41. Sprinzak, ‘‘The Psychopolitical Formation of Extreme Left Terrorism in a Democracy’’
(see note 15 above); Donatella della Porta, ‘‘Left-Wing Terrorism in Italy,’’ in Martha Crenshaw,
ed., Terrorism in Context (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press 1995),
105–159; and Marshall Ganz, ‘‘Resources and Resourcefulness: Strategic Capacity in the
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58. McAdam, Political Process and the Development of Black Insurgency (see note 33 above).
59. Eli Berman, Jacob N. Shapiro, and Joseph H. Felter, ‘‘Can Hearts and Minds Be
Bought? The Economics of Counterinsurgency in Iraq,’’ Journal of Political Economy 119,
no. 4 (2011): 766–819; Richard Clutterbuck, The Long Long War: Counterinsurgency in
Malaya and Vietnam (Ann Arbor, MI: Praeger, 1966); Robert Taber, The War of the Flea:
A Study of Guerrilla Warfare Theory and Practice (New York: Lyle Stewart, 1965); Stathis
Kalvyas, The Logic of Violence in Civil War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2006); Robert Cassidy, Counterinsurgency and the Global War on Terror (Westpoint: Praeger,
2008).
60. Cristián Gazmuri, Patricia Arancibia, and Álvaro Góngora, Eduardo Frei Montolva
y su época (Santiago, Chile: Aguilar, 2000).
61. Pedro Naranjo, Mauricio Ahumada, Mario Garcés, and Julio Pinto, eds., Miguel
Enrı́quez y el proyecto revolucionario en Chile: Discursos y documentos del Movimiento de
Downloaded by [University of California Santa Barbara] at 11:01 29 February 2016
133. David Scott Palmer, ‘‘The Revolutionary Terrorism of Peru’s Shining Path,’’
in Martha Crenshaw, ed., Terrorism in Context (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State
University Press 1995), 249–309.
134. Della Porta, ‘‘Left-Wing Terrorism in Italy’’ (see note 41 above), 129.
135. Max Abrahms, ‘‘Why Democracies Make Superior Counterterrorists,’’ Security
Studies 16, no. 2 (June 2007): 251. For other examples, see: David C. Rapoport and Leonard
Weinberg, ‘‘Elections and Violence,’’ Terrorism and Political Violence 12, nos. 3-4 (2000):
15–20; Jack L. Snyder, From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist Conflict
(New York: W. W. Norton, 2000); Muller, ‘‘Income Inequality, Regime Repressiveness,
and Political Violence’’ (see note 6 above).
136. John S. Dryzek, ‘‘Political Inclusion and the Dynamics of Democratization,’’
American Political Science Review 90, no. 3 (September 1996): 475–487; Susanne Karstedt,
‘‘Democracy, Values, and Violence: Paradoxes, Tensions, and Comparative Advantages of
Liberal Inclusion,’’ The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science
605, no. 1 (May 2006): 50–81; Iris Marion Young, ‘‘Activist Challenges to Deliberative
Democracy,’’ in James S. Fishkin and Peter Laslett, eds., Debating Deliberative Democracy
(Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 2008), 102–120.
137. Daniel Byman, ‘‘The Logic of Ethnic Violence,’’ Studies in Conflict and Terrorism
21, no. 2 (1998): 149–169; Muller, ‘‘Income Inequality, Regime Repressiveness, and Political
Violence’’ (see note 6 above).