Reforming Chile: Cultural Politics, Nationalism, and the Rise of the Middle Class

Reforming Chile

Reforming Chile

Cultural Politics, Nationalism, and the Rise of the Middle Class

Patrick Barr-Melej

The University of North Carolina Press

Chapel Hill and London

© 2001 THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA PRESS

All rights reserved

Designed by Heidi Perov

Set in Legacy Serif and The Serif

by Keystone Typesetting, Inc.

Manufactured in the United States of America

The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources.

P. iii: Ahumada Street, Santiago, 1930. (Courtesy Consorcio

Periodístico, S.A. [Copesa], and La Tercera, Santiago)

Portions of Chapters 3 and 4 appeared in slightly different form in

"Cowboys and Constructions: Nationalist Representations of Pastoral

Life in Post-Portalian Chile," Journal of Latin American Studies 30

(February 1998): 35–61. Used by permission of Cambridge University Press.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Barr-Melej, Patrick.

Reforming Chile: cultural politics, nationalism, and the rise of the middle class /

Patrick Barr-Melej.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 0-8078-2604-9 (cloth: alk. paper)—ISBN 0-8078-4919-7 (pbk.: alk. paper)

1. Middle class—Chile—History—20th century. 2. Chile—Politics and government— 20th century. 3. Education—Chile—History—20th century. I. Title.

HT690.C5 B37 2001

305.5′5′0983—dc21

00-051218

05 04 03 02 01 5 4 3 2 1

for Abraham Melej Nazar and

Violeta González Ossandón,

abuelos queridos/beloved grandparents

Contents

Acknowledgments

Abbreviations

Introduction

1 A Troubled Belle Epoque

2 Nationalists

3 Rewriting Chile Criollismo and the Generation of 1900

4 Prose, Politics, and Patria from Alessandri to the Popular Front

5 For Culture and Country Middle-Class Reformers in Public Education

6 Teaching the Nation

7 The Three Rs Readers, Representations, and Reformism

Epilogue

Notes

Bibliography

Index

Illustrations

Arturo Alessandri Palma upon winning the presidential election of 1920 32

Nicolás Palacios, physician and author of Raza chilena 59

Huasos in the southern Central Valley, ca. 1920 89

Mariano Latorre, teacher, diplomat, and writer 98

Marta Brunet, author of Montaña adentro 122

Joaquín Edwards Bello, author of El roto 124

The zamacueca, Chile’s national folk dance 138

Dr. Carlos Fernández Peña, president of the National Education Association 157

Schoolchildren, ca. 1920 163

Pedro Aguirre Cerda, presidential candidate of the Popular Front in 1938 202

Acknowledgments

The principal questions in this book germinated from seeds of curiosity that Arnold J. Bauer and I scattered to the wind as we walked to a café on a mild springtime day in Davis, California—a day quite similar to those in Santiago around October, minus the smog. Over the years, a great many people in the United States and Chile stimulated, conditioned, and facilitated this study’s evolution. I take great pleasure in expressing my gratitude to them here with the practical realization that I cannot possibly thank all my teachers, colleagues, and students who have enriched my academic life.

First and foremost, this book could not have been completed, and my life would not be complete, without my wife, Melissa Barr. With love, patience, and kindness, she has always supported and encouraged my desire to study history in a world that seems to value more practical professions. While I toiled with this manuscript, she graciously took upon her shoulders a disproportional amount of child rearing, though the author’s increasing dexterity allowed for typing with one hand and keeping our rather spirited toddler, Eva, out of trouble with the other. I wish to express loving appreciation to my father, Roger Barr, an avid reader whose passion for history and taste for books surely had something to do with my career choice. I profoundly thank my mother, Cinthia Melej de Barr, for giving me the rincones chilenos that I will forever hold dear. Over the course of three decades, my parents have improved the lives of many thousands of Mexican farmworkers in California, and I am inspired by their collective sense of purpose and dedication.

I warmly thank my mentor at the University of California at Berkeley, Tulio Halperín-Donghi, for his thoughtful help. As thematic and methodological flavors of the month come and go, his immense knowledge and wide-ranging interests are examples for us all. Arnold Bauer at UC Davis, my friend and teacher, assisted me during the entire course of this project, always making time to review chapter drafts meticulously and, perhaps best of all, to exchange thoughts over some glasses of the latest vintage of Dos Patos. I am also grateful to Julio Ramos for sharing his insight into Latin America’s literature and intellectual milieu, and Charles Walker for teaching me a great deal about the academic scene and for hearing me out when I was flustered. Margaret Chowning, a keen reader and critic, always offered sage advice and kind words of support. My gratitude goes to James Cane, who can put complex things in the clearest of terms. Jim’s friendship and tremendous intellect enriched my doctoral study at Berkeley and contributed in no small way to the making of this book. Claudio Robles Ortiz shared with me his knowledge of Chile’s academy and historiography and graciously read the manuscript while busily working on his dissertation. He always makes that thin land on the edge of the earth seem much closer. I also thank William Skuban, Andrew Wood, Paula De Vos, Vera Candiani, and Jaime Aguila for their comradeship. Moreover, I cannot go without relaying my deep appreciation to Lee Terkelsen, who taught me how to ask important questions, and to F. Roy Willis, whose poetic and illuminating lectures on modern European history helped bring motivation and resolve to a once indifferent undergraduate.

While researching in Santiago, I spent many hours engaged in absorbing discussions with Professors Bernardo Subercaseaux, Alfredo Jocelyn-Holt, Luis Ortega, Eduardo Devés, and Florencia Mallon, to whom I express appreciation. In addition, Luis Durand Jr. and the distinguished author Luis Merino Reyes—still without a much deserved National Literature Award— kindly accepted interviews that enriched my understanding of Chilean culture and its crafters. My thanks go to the staff of the Archivo Nacional de Chile, including María del Carmen Montaner; the personnel of the Archivo del Siglo XX, especially Sandra Godoy; Carlos Oyarzún and Carmen Morandé at the Biblioteca del Congreso Nacional; and the staff of the Biblioteca Nacional, especially Juan Camilo, director of the library’s Sección de Referencias Críticas. More than a dozen people at these sites patiently accepted countless photocopy requests and carted around hundreds of dusty volumes. Many months of research would have been fatiguing without the camaraderie of Claudio Barrientos, whose intellect and sense of humor made for memorable (and pleasantly long) lunches on smoggy afternoons, as well as the love and hospitality of my family in and around Santiago. Carlos Zenteno of the University of Chile also became a supportive friend. I also am indebted to María Soledad de la Cerda at the Consorcio Periodístico de Chile, the functionaries at the Archivo Fotográfico of the Museo Histórico Nacional, and Fernando Purcell.

Financial support from Berkeley in the form of a Graduate Opportunity Fellowship funded much of the research for this study. I am also grateful to the Mellon Foundation, which generously supported the earliest incarnations of this project with a dissertation prospectus fellowship and dissertation write-up fellowship. In addition, Berkeley’s Center for Latin American Studies funded exploratory and preliminary research, as did a Humanities Research Grant from the Graduate Division of the university.

Many of the people mentioned above kindly read and commented on chapter drafts. Those who initially read the manuscript for the University of North Carolina Press offered valuable comments and suggestions that most certainly improved it. Press editors Elaine Maisner and Pamela Upton, who make difficult jobs appear easy, patiently helped me through the publication process. This book also benefited greatly from the skillful and thoughtful review of UNC Press copyeditor Grace Buonocore. Of course, any lingering errors are mine.

Abbreviations

AEN National Education Association (Asociación de Educación Nacional) AGP General Association of Teachers (Asociación General de Profesores) AL Liberal Alliance (Alianza Liberal) APL People’s Liberation Alliance (Alianza Popular Libertadora) CORFO Production Development Corporation (Corporación de Fomento de la Producción) FECh Chilean Federation of Students (Federación de Estudiantes de Chile) FOCh Chilean Workers Federation (Federación de Obreros de Chile) FP Popular Front (Frente Popular) FRAP Popular Action Front (Frente de Acción Popular) IWW Industrial Workers of the World MNS National Socialist Movement, or Nazi Party (Movimiento Nacional Socialista) PC Conservative Party (Partido Conservador) PCCh Chilean Communist Party (Partido Comunista de Chile) PD Democratic Party (Partido Democrático) PL Liberal Party (Partido Liberal) PLD Liberal-Democratic Party, or Balmacedists (Partido Liberal Democrático) PN Nationalist Party (Partido Nacionalista) POS Socialist Workers Party (Partido Obrero Socialista) PR Radical Party (Partido Radical) PS Socialist Party (Partido Socialista) SNA National Agricultural Society (Sociedad Nacional de Agricultura) SNP National Society of Teachers (Sociedad Nacional de Profesores) SOFOFA Manufacturing Promotion Society (Sociedad de Fomento Fabril) UN National Union (Unión Nacional) UNA Nationalist Union (Unión Nacionalista) UNA/PN Nationalist Union/Nationalist Party (Unión Nacionalista/Partido Nacionalista) UP Popular Unity (Unidad Popular)

Reforming Chile

Introduction

Las ideas adquieren alas potentes y veloces, no en el helado seno de la abstracción, sino en el luminoso y cálido ambiente de la forma.

JOSÉ ENRIQUE RODÓ, Ariel, 1900

Strolling down a sidewalk along Santiago’s lively Alameda de las Delicias (now the Avenida del Libertador General Bernardo O’Higgins) during the latter years of the so-called Parliamentary Republic (1891–1925), the casual observer witnessed numerous indications of a modern nation in the making. The crisp ring of a trolley’s bell sounded the call of progress. A dozen different newspapers of various political persuasions dangled from clothespins at a corner kiosk, and passersby glanced at the latest headlines. A bookstore’s window near the University of Chile seemed more crowded with new titles. The observer could hear the giggles and chatter of children as they made their daily pilgrimage from a working-class neighborhood to a recently established primary school. Near busy Ahumada Street, yet another fashionable department store serving an affluent, exclusive clientele drew the spectator’s attention, if only for a brief moment. A foundry’s plume of smoke that billowed in the distance, or perhaps the increasingly long lines of people waiting outside the doors of a law office, a notary public, an accounting firm, and a medical practice, also beckoned glances. These and other obvious reflections of modernization’s impelling force—aspects of a once traditional society becoming something else—touched the lives of many thousands of urban Chileans during the early decades of the twentieth century.

Amid the low rumble and rhythmic bustle of this urban environment, there emerged from within Chile’s burgeoning middle class a nationalist reform movement with far-reaching political and cultural implications. During the first half of the century, as oligarchs anxiously sought to prevent the corrosion of their power and working-class groups armed themselves with revolutionary concepts and combative rhetoric in a highly conflictive ideological arena, influential people of the middle class negotiated an intermediate position between the sociopolitical forces of Right and Left. They endeavored to sculpt a nation distanced from the predominance and pretentiousness of aristocrats, safeguarded from proletarian insurrection, and a Chile in which their ideas and values formed the collective mentalité. At the heart of this movement were intellectuals, educators, bureaucrats, and politicians who articulated an agenda of cultural politics and elaborated a nationalist imagination that altered Chile’s cultural landscape, infused politics with a new constellation of images, symbols, and meanings, and influenced how many Chileans thought about themselves and their nation.

This book examines the rise of the middle class and the confluence of culture, politics, and nationalism in a rapidly changing Latin American society. It focuses on the perceptions, voices, and actions of liberal reformers who contributed in significant ways to the shaping of modern Chile during the five decades spanning the founding of the Parliamentary Republic through the Popular Front (Frente Popular, or FP) presidency of Radical Party leader Pedro Aguirre Cerda (1938–41). Its principal purpose is to illustrate and interpret the intricacies of a political-cultural project as it was being manufactured by elements of a class intimately tied to the varied consequences of capitalist modernization. Doing so necessarily entails positing important questions that have not been addressed, much less formulated, about twentieth-century Chile and, arguably, its least studied social constituency: the urban middle class, or mesocracy (mesocracia, a term used in Chile for much of the century, underscores the middle stratum’s social importance by suggesting authority, legitimacy, and posture). What political concerns and aims motivated middle-class reformers, and why were those concerns and aims unique to their social layer? Why and how were such ideological underpinnings manifested culturally? What role did nationalism play in early-twentieth-century Chile’s public sphere in general, and the middle-class milieu in particular? What impact did reform-minded nationalists have on politics, culture, and identity? Were Chilean mesocrats simply consorts of the traditional elite, as some would have us believe? Were they, instead, genuinely antioligarchic and committed to far-reaching reform? The chapters hereinafter approach the cultural and political ideas and practices of middle-class reformers by way of literary culture and public education. Both cultural environments—one artistic and aesthetic, the other official and programmatic—are equally important in this story and together impart a multidimensional view of a movement contrived by Chileans who saw themselves as centurions of culture and authentic interpreters of nationality [and] the national spirit.¹

Through political will and efficient organization, middle-class reformers with either direct or informal ties to the Radical Party (Partido Radical, or PR), a political body founded by radical liberals in the mid-nineteenth century, became the dominant interest group in national affairs by the end of the 1930s. Their ascendance, however, did not come quickly or easily. For much of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, an upper class composed largely of wealthy landowning and mine-owning families maintained control over the political system. But while the mesocracy expanded and the PR increased its representation in the Senate and Chamber of Deputies after the War of the Pacific (1879–84), reformers came to wield a considerable amount of power in the area of cultural production and reproduction, as aristocrats demonstrated only moderate interest in matters of domestic culture. Members of the middle class soon commanded the literary marketplace as the culture industry matured, and public education at the bureaucratic and classroom levels became their nearly exclusive domain by the second decade of the twentieth century. These cultural environments also constituted political environments in which middle-class reformers expressed the fears, hopes, and ideas they shared about such things as class conflict, social solidarity, liberal democracy and democratization, and the Chilean race.

Such culturally active reformers expressed deep-seated concern about what they deemed obvious symptoms of national decline. Fueling such worry was the social question, or the problem of worsening living and working conditions in the country’s mining centers and major cities, especially Santiago and the port city of Valparaíso, and the associated proliferation of working-class radicalism. Chile’s anarchist and communist movements were in nascent states during the earliest years of the twentieth century, but reformers nonetheless were keenly aware of the possibility of social revolution and viewed the social question as a powder keg for just such an explosion. To make troublesome matters worse, reformers surmised, the upper class remained unresponsive to the social question despite harboring anxieties about insurrection, propagated a certain institutional inertia that stifled broad-based government-sponsored reform, and was simply aloof from the nation’s autochthonous culture and cultural needs. Thus, through narration, debates, and policies, mesocrats with cultural capital in literature and pedagogy addressed aspects of the social question, strove for the ultimate decomposition of the elite’s power, and propelled their own national project based on reformist cultural and political ideas that were enveloped in a nationalist discourse with strongly liberal democratic overtones. These nationalist reformers, in short, exploited culture’s dualistic essence as a mechanism of liberation and authority in the name of inclusive democracy and the patria (fatherland or homeland). While doing so they broke new cultural and political ground upon which subsequent movements, including Salvador Allende’s Popular Unity (Unidad Popular, or UP) of the 1960s and early 1970s, erected their national projects.

This study does not purport to be a definitive examination of the middle class, nor does it discuss in detail all the social actors who contributed to the country’s cultural and political life during and immediately following the Parliamentary Republic. Rather, it seeks to discern how certain Chileans understood the world around them, why and how they charted and navigated courses in response to it, and how those responses shaped the history of twentieth-century Chile. Accordingly, attention is focused on those Chileans of middle standing with greatest cultural and political power between the 1890s and early 1940s: reformers who stood firmly between revolution and reaction. It must be noted here that as Chile’s sociopolitical landscape continued to diversify in the 1930s, the loyalty of many middle-class people (including Allende’s) came to rest in the organized Left, and the budding Socialist Party in particular. But recognizably middle-class Marxists remained in lesser positions in the culture industry, the political system, and in the broader national context during the period under consideration. That is not to say that historians should only study people with the greatest power, leaving the rest behind as inconsequential or, at least, less interesting. On the contrary, we should be sensitive to the undertakings of the powerful to understand better the opportunities, challenges, and dilemmas faced by the less powerful and powerless.

Class, Culture, and Hegemony

In my effort to establish an analytical and interpretive framework that may help us understand the rise of the mesocracy and the cultural politics and nationalism that permeated it, I have found great utility in thinking about class and hegemony as historical processes. It is more than reasonable to assert that in the twentieth century no other identity marker proved more compelling among Chileans and more pervasive in their political culture than the idea of class. On the surface of things, the relationship between class divisions and political ideologies broke down, in general terms, as one might imagine in a textbook sort of way during the first half of the century. That is to say, the upper class remained traditionalist despite its party variation (namely, its division into Liberal and Conservative camps), though some deserters joined the reformist cause; the bulk of the middle class was reformist, cautious, and concerned with furthering its own social and political power; and members of the increasingly radicalized popular classes found leadership in men with middle-class pedigrees who had chosen the path of social revolution (Luis Emilio Recabarren and Allende, for instance). This relationship between social circumstance and ideology lends a degree of insight into the importance of class in the present examination.

The historian E. P. Thompson offered a most succinct, insightful, and adequately malleable definition of class in his 1963 trailblazing study on the making of the English working class. He explained that class happens when some men, as a result of common experiences (inherited or shared), feel and articulate the identity of their interests as between themselves, and as against other men whose interests are different from (and usually opposed to) theirs…. Class consciousness is the way in which the experiences are handled in cultural terms: embodied in traditions, value-systems, ideas, and institutional forms.² Class, then, is not a static thing but rather an unfolding drama of consciousness, organization, and activity that is expressed and reproduced culturally. Thompson eloquently conveyed the significance of culture in the construction of class by noting, I am convinced that we cannot understand class unless we see it as a social and cultural formation, arising from processes which can only be studied as they work themselves out over a considerable historical period.³ In the context of twentieth-century Chile, I am, accordingly, convinced that we cannot begin to comprehend social and cultural formations without addressing class and, specifically, the middle class’s station between the elite on the one hand and the working class on the other. As literary critic and educator Angel Rama reminds us, classes with distinct cultural ways have found themselves in a struggle won or lost on the chessboard of history.⁴

Latin America’s middle classes coalesced in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries—some later than others depending on national contexts—as sectors indelibly linked to capitalist modernization and classical liberal projects that fostered international trade, domestic commerce, and internal migration. These factors created the necessary conditions for the proliferation of middle-class professions in such areas as governmental bureaucracy, accounting, small business, teaching, journalism, and so forth. Yet, when considering the Chilean case, defining who composed the middle class is a complicated endeavor because class, as Thompson and Rama indicate, is not merely a socioeconomic category but a cultural one as well. In early-twentieth-century Santiago, for example, it was not entirely uncommon to see the progeny of the upper class take jobs as journalists, teachers, or bureaucrats, join the PR, and, in general, immerse themselves in, and contribute to, a characteristically mesocratic cultural milieu. In this changeful urban setting, genealogy did not necessarily correlate with a distinct lifestyle, ideology, or identity; many mesocrats-by-choice shared with mesocrats-by-station certain cultural tastes and ideological sympathies that, in many ways, differed significantly from those of aristocrats. A mesocrat’s being in the world, then, was not solely the function of economic activity and a comparable social standing; it also was tied to cultural norms and a cultural outlook. That is not to say that middle-class Chileans, especially notable professionals, never circulated in high society’s cultural medium (a good number of social climbers could not have wished for anything better). In short, it may be argued that locating and identifying a mesocracy during this period by, say, examining employment data or breakdowns of occupations in census reports would not take into full account the pliability of class and, for that matter, the significance of culture and cultural practices in the elaboration of classes and identity.

Long before the appearance of Thompson’s widely praised work, Antonio Gramsci noted in 1920 that a class, just as it has thought to organize itself politically and economically[,] … must also think about organizing itself culturally.⁵ Gramsci’s argument for culture’s pertinence in the organization of classes was a departure from prevailing Marxist thought. As Raymond Williams explains, in pre-Gramsci Marxist ideology no cultural activity is allowed to be real and significant in itself, but is always reduced to a direct or indirect expression of some proceeding and controlling economic content, or of political content determined by an economic position or situation.⁶ Marx stipulated that social being (or class) above all shaped consciousness— whether political or cultural. Gramsci, however, essentially argued that culture is an integral component (and not merely a shallow reflection) of social being. He took this very convincing analysis a step further by underscoring the importance of culture in the building of hegemony. Originally formulated by Lenin and Russian Marxists before the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917 and furthered by an incarcerated Gramsci in the 1920s and 1930s, the concept of hegemony has exerted a great deal of historiographical influence in recent years as the conventions of orthodox Marxist historiography have faded.⁷ Gramsci exploded Marxism’s base/superstructure correlation, which subordinated culture to social being, by arguing that culture, like politics and economy, is a critical component not only of class but of hegemony, or the direction of a social group realized through coercion and consent at all levels of interpersonal organization.⁸ Williams added to Gramsci’s formulation of hegemony by arguing that a lived hegemony is always a process. It is not, except analytically, a system or structure.⁹ Thus, we have then to add to the concept of hegemony the concepts of counter-hegemony and alternative hegemony, which are real and persistent elements of practice.¹⁰ It was, moreover, Gramsci’s contention that a war of position—that is, the aggregation of battles between class-based interests seeking to preserve, topple, or realize hegemony—would largely be waged on the field of culture.¹¹ On a more general level, it is significant for the Chilean case that Gramsci attempted to explain why and how a bourgeois hegemonic project had successfully mitigated class struggle in early-twentieth-century Italy, thus derailing what once was a promising proletarian movement. As we shall see, culturally and politically active elements of Chile’s middle class pursued an alternative hegemony that, aside from undermining the preeminence of the oligarchic establishment, sought to suppress working-class radicalism. Collectively, the above formulations of class and hegemony, originally conceived by Marxist thinkers who had working classes and proletarian struggles in mind, resonate in this study of Chilean society’s middle sector and its complicated relationship with competing class interests.

The Politics of Prose

Writing in 1915, one Chilean reformer described art as a social reality that can be the source of the elevation of character and harmony in the collective organism. He went on to explain that the formation of a national art, or at least the stimulation and cultivation of the artistic faculties of the race, is a labor that is eminently nationalist.¹² As this statement indicates, at the center of every modern culture are artistic creations—paintings, sculptures, novels, short stories, poems, and the like—that carry with them meaning and intent. It therefore stands to reason that such cultural products may reflect ideological currents and interpretations of prevailing conditions in a society at a moment in time. In literary culture, art takes form as words, which, far from being definite and unchanging, convey opinions and perspectives conditioned by, and indicative of, social, cultural, political, and economic circumstances. Of most interest to us here is the relationship between art and ideas and, specifically, that of literary culture and political ideology.

As the nineteenth century drew to a close, Chilean literature underwent significant shifts in style, content, and function, as new market and cultural conditions gradually created an expanded readership. This era saw the specialization of the intellectual enterprise throughout Latin America, as fiction writers, poets, or literary critics came to earn professional livelihoods. As Argentine literary scholars Beatriz Sarlo and Carlos Altamirano explain, there appeared an interaction between the writers and the market starting with the moment in which the production and distribution of the book was converted into a branch of the general production of goods.¹³ Rama, moreover, notes that this period of modernization brought a stronger emphasis on specialization, a more rigid division of intellectual labor … appropriate for societies that now confronted demands for various kinds of complex knowledge.¹⁴ The prevalence of relatively affordable paper-bound books, higher literacy rates, and greater demand spurred by a literature-hungry urban population signified that literary culture was moving further away from its earlier, exclusive purpose as a diversion of and for the elite. Novels, poetry, short stories, and newspaper serials were increasingly being written and read by intellectuals, civil servants, accountants, journalists, teachers, politicians, and businesspeople of a middle class eager to define and fortify its own cultural presence in society. The most widely read and praised fiction trend of early-twentieth-century Chile was criollismo (creolism), a predominantly middle-class genre that combined stylistic and thematic sensibilities inspired by European naturalist writers allied to the liberal cause, especially the celebrated Frenchman Émile Zola, with native—or criollo—settings.

Criollismo emerged at the turn of the century as a cultural creation with ideological overtones. Contributors to the genre, including members and fellow travelers of the PR, revealed a nationalist, reformist, and populistic disposition in works that placed lower-class Chileans in the cultural and national limelight and pushed the aristocracy out of it. In a manner similar to that of important English, Irish, and Argentine intellectuals of the 1920s and 1930s, Guillermo Labarca Hubertson, Mariano Latorre, Luis Durand, and other criollistas saw nationness in the countryside, among campesinos (country folk) whom the urban elite essentially thought of as bumpkins.¹⁵ The genre’s contributors believed that chilenidad (Chileanness or Chileanity) was not an inherent quality of the cosmopolitan elite; rather, it was ingrained in such figures as the huasos, or horsemen service tenants, of the Central Valley’s sprawling haciendas, who shared a more wholesome and genuine existence, or so the criollistas sustained. By divulging the (supposed) characteristics and day-to-day experiences of society’s underbelly, and by negating high society’s cultural and national distinction, the criollistas contributed to a middle-class reform movement that included the popular sector in a national and nationalist project. But any change was to occur on terms set by reformers, and there were limits to the lower class’s political options in this newly reimagined community.¹⁶

The process of discerning a discourse of cultural and sociopolitical consequence in a literary medium does not come without some methodological and theoretical pitfalls. What, for example, may a collection of fictional short stories and novels filled with hundreds of plots and protagonists tell us about the contours of a reformist ideology rooted in the middle class? Leo Lowenthal, a sociologist of literature, observed that literature is a particularly suitable bearer of fundamental symbols and values which give cohesion to social groups, ranging from nations and epochs to special social subgroups and points in time…. Literature tells us not only what a society was like in a past age, but also what the individual felt about it. Analyses of literature may therefore reveal those central problems with which man has been concerned at various times, permitting us to develop an image of a given society in terms of the individuals that composed it.¹⁷ For our purposes here, should we then perceive literature as an artsy expression of ideology? If so, would art then cease to be art and simply become aestheticized politics?

In his theory of the transindividual subject, Lucien Goldmann drew a direct correlation between an author’s position in society and the type of literature that he or she yields.¹⁸ Although it is tempting simply to interpret an author’s literary production as an expression of his or her subject position, we must be wary of such a static and undynamic relational certainty. Pierre Bourdieu tells us that investigators often sloppily choose samples of a literary movement that express class-based interests and ideas, putting aside more marginal authors whose works may cast doubt on a direct author-class nexus. Bourdieu also states that strategies and trajectories of authors tend to be independent and differentiated among those of similar social origin.¹⁹ However, Bourdieu may be overly swift in his rejection of the author-class nexus. Certain tendencies are, in fact, discernible within a given genre that may link, on a macro rather than micro level, more than one author to a class and class interests. Such links may not be overt and thus beckon excavation. In their works, the criollistas demonstrate commonalities that not only are stylistic and structural but also political and functional. In essence, this book’s treatment of criollismo assumes the middle ground between Goldmann and Bourdieu, where art can be for art’s sake and art can be for politics’ sake. As Gramsci observed when writing on culture and ideology, given the principle that one should look only to the artistic character of the work of art, this does not in the least prevent one from investigating the mass of feelings and the attitude towards life present in the work itself.²⁰

Although scholars have produced many important contributions to our understanding of modern Chilean literature, criollismo’s ideological morphology remains unexplored. The few existing references to criollismo, which demonstrate the genre’s aesthetic commitment to themes and settings associated with the lower classes, emphasize that its proliferation signaled the emergence of a new urban type—the professional writer—who was a product of economic modernization and social change. Indeed, this is an important aspect of late-nineteenth- and early-twentieth-century literary culture, but sidestepped in such studies is criollismo’s place in a middle-class reform movement with hegemonic intent and a new vision of the nation and its culture. This book, therefore, treats criollismo not only as a literary form with a peculiar style but also as a collection of historical texts that disclose an agenda of cultural politics anchored by an emerging nationalist imagination.

Ideology and Cultural Politics: Lessons from the Classroom

The elaboration of the culture industry and the diversification of cultural production paralleled significant developments in pedagogy, which, like literary culture, was a medium for the cultural politics and nationalist principles of middle-class reformers. As Chile’s bureaucratic state expanded to meet the demands of a modernizing society during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, public education became an important part of governance, as was the case in other Latin American nations, North America, Britain, and continental Europe. The mesocracy’s leverage in Chilean public instruction dates from the final years of what is often called the Portalian Republic (1831–91), named after its principal architect, the trader Diego Portales. A sharp increase in education spending during the presidency of José Manuel Balmaceda (1886–91) produced a need for more teachers and ministerial bureaucrats. Middle-class personnel, many of them Radicals, filled such posts in large numbers, thus establishing a reformist presence that guided public instruction for many decades. For the historian, early-twentieth-century Chilean pedagogy is a rich depository of ideas and practices that were strongly mesocratic and reformist in character and was a cultural space in which leading reformers, including Aguirre Cerda and a young Arturo Alessandri Palma, implemented a cultural political agenda and espoused nationalist principles.

The rise of an increasingly politicized Chilean working class and the persistence of oligarchic power convinced reformers of the Parliamentary Republic that cultural democratization in the form of compulsory primary instruction and the spread of an inclusive nationalism among students were pedagogical imperatives. In public debate over the amplification of public education, reformers gave shape to a strongly nationalist discourse when criticizing traditionalists allied to the Catholic Church, who objected to the secularization of pedagogy through the expansion of state-executed schooling, and others outside religious conservatism (especially Liberals of the Parliamentary Republic establishment) who were critical of Radical reformism. Meanwhile, the diffusion of nationalism in the classroom, reformers thought, would inculcate workers, their families, and other Chileans with cultural and political demeanors that would contribute to the mesocracy’s hegemonic project and the perpetuation of liberal democracy. Indeed, Basil Bernstein notes that in any society "the structuring of knowledge and symbol