In order to answer the question of “Why revolutions?”, the social sciences must incorporate human psychology into their structural, economic, and geopolitical arguments. Such existing arguments are surely part of the equation, but are also not the whole picture even if evaluated together. Rather, human psychology is a critical part of understanding why any social movement happens.

The human psyche responds to and is shaped by the surrounding environment in which it finds itself. Take for example, the natural instinct of fight or flight when put in life-threatening situations. Surely while living under a repressive military-police state, there are very literally life or death situations. However, there are also life or death situations in the more figurative sense: who they were, who they are, and who they want to be may very well be under siege, thus creating a psychology of fight or flight.There are always legal, financial, linguistic and cultural barriers to exit regardless of regime-type, which may prevent an individual from fleeing in the literal sense. An individual may be able to find short-term “flight,” perhaps through an easing of repressive regime tendencies as in Iran under the Shah, but the reality of one’s situation will inevitably reassert itself, particularly when there is no outlet for expression or pressure release.

The human psyche, moreover, is known to opt for the path of least resistance, which may well be incremental change within the current system, but if such is no longer an option (due to regime self-preservation, perhaps), then the individual may feel backed into a corner with no way out. What happens? They fight their way out, even if it means death – literal or figurative. It is a sudden, intensely violent action (which does not necessarily imply the use of weapons) meant to preserve one’s self, one’s identity, one’s way of life at all costs when all other options are exhausted or removed. It is in this idea of fighting for preservation, in which traces of the “old” manifest themselves in the “new.” Therefore, if revolutions occur because the human psyche perceives that flight is impossible and that fighting is the only option for preservation of an identity, a way of life, dignity, etc., then it makes sense that elements of what was show up in what comes after revolution.

Further, if I am right in my assessment of human psychology, it also helps to explain in part why a critical mass develops. Each individual has a different breaking point at which the person feels that fighting is the only option, such that some individuals agitate for revolution earlier or later than others. Nonetheless, there is likely to be a sort of convergence to a mass breaking point. Perhaps this is because as more people choose to fight, fighting becomes the path of least resistance, thereby creating Kapuscinski’s moment of viability and supporting the critical mass theory of crowd behavior. In other words, preservation becomes most likely through fighting rather than through flight.

So, why revolutions? The human psyche’s response to its surroundings is inevitably influenced by social science’s explanations of state breakdown, economic distress, and geopolitical considerations, and so are likely to enter into a person’s decision to fight or to flee. However, there exists some point at which the human psyche ultimately chooses to fight if all other viable options are exhausted or removed. It is at the point of critical mass confluence of individuals’ psychological calculations that fight is preferable to flight when there erupts a sudden burst of intense violence on a massive scale – a revolution – thereby enabling for self- or group-preservation.

The first thing that comes to mind when mentioning revolutions is the upheaval of a dominant system of abusive power by an oppressed citizenry. This is not an easy task to achieve, thus explaining why not all “nations wronged by history…live with the constant thought of revolution” (Kapuscinski). Moreover, the fact that revolutions are such a difficult thing to execute is the very reason why the study of them is such an attractive topic to many people.

In simplistic terms, revolutions are underdog stories, and this is a genre that has been beloved since biblical times (i.e. David and Goliath). They provide hope and empowerment to disadvantaged groups, and allow for them to cling to a notion of possible change to their own situations; nonetheless, the question remains of what actually happens after a revolution is successfully carried out. Does the aftermath truly outweigh the prior circumstances that initially sparked a change? The answer is often torn, and many times the end of a revolution leaves people wanting more. In other words, the actual act of carrying out a revolution is exhilarating—it makes people feel alive, important, and as if they are truly doing something to improve their own lives and the lives of others; however, once change has finally happened and the corrupt group has been ousted, people are left with a sense of emptiness. This thing that they have devoted so much time and energy to is all of a sudden over.

What do they do now; go back to their normal lives before the revolution? If this is the case (which it oftentimes is), it seems as if the meaning of the term revolution is closer to that of something that is revolving, and these people, while in an attempt to create something new, are actually stuck in a cycle of disempowerment.

“I do not assert that men living in democratic communities are naturally stationary; I think, on the contrary, that a perpetual stir prevails in the bosom of those societies, and that rest is unknown there; but I think that men bestir themselves within certain limits, beyond which they hardly ever go. They are forever varying, altering, and restoring secondary matters; but they carefully abstain from touching what is fundamental. They love change, but they dread revolutions.”  Alexis de Tocqueville, “Why Great Revolutions Will Become Rare”

“In Benghazi itself, the evidence of upheaval becomes more apparent. Each day, the streets roar with the sounds of pep rallies staged by fighters heading for the front; they fire guns in the air and occasionally set off dynamite to prove their devotion to their cause. But then the rallies give way to traffic jams and the rhythms of normal life…On my first day in Libya, in the town of Derna, one meticulously drawn panel caught my eye: ‘WE WANT A COUNTRY OF INSTITUTIONS,’ it read. In how many revolutions have people marched to such a slogan?”  Tom Malinowski, “Jefferson in Benghazi”

“It is a mistaken assumption that nations wronged by history (and they are in the majority) live with the constant thought of revolution, that they see it as the simplest solution. Every revolution is a drama, and humanity instinctively avoids dramatic situations. Even if we find ourselves in such a situation we look feverishly for a way out, we seek calm and, most often, the commonplace. That is why revolutions never last long.”   Ryszard Kapuscinski, Shah of Shahs

Why revolutions, why the allure of this class, of its material?  If we are drawn to transformation and the emancipatory possibilities of change, then how is it possible, as several of you noted in class, that we are put off by the uncertainty that change brings, the unknown of the “and afterwards” that Kapuściński conjures in Shah of Shahs?

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