The coup d'etat, or the overthrow of the state from some political or military force—violently or not—is a concept well-known throughout popular culture and society. It has been played out across innumerable books, movies, television shows, video games and the like. While some coups come within—from institutions like the military, intelligence bureaus, etc.—and some from without—like from usurpers, pretenders, or alternative claimants—there are, in fact, still others that come from that leader or administration in charge in the first instance.
An autogolpe, or “self-coup,” is what this final form of coup is generally referred to as; when the leader or the administration leading the nation—oftentimes in cooperation with the military or other national institutions—decides that they will no longer participate in the generally agreed to precedents or constitutional practicalities and responsibilities.
While the now-former leftist President of Peru, Pedro Castillo, is but the latest executive to attempt to maintain power by conspiring to illegally circumvent constitutional procedures when he tried to dismiss Parliament for a plethora of related and unrelated reasons: In the hopes of gaining more allies in new legislative elections, of sparing himself a third attempted impeachment, of stopping federal investigations into his behavior, and of possibly reshaping the Peruvian judiciary—as well as allegedly even the constitution itself. He is, however, not anywhere close to being either the first attempted international autogolpe of this decade, or even the first of his own nation over the last three-plus decades.
The most famous attempted autogolpe of recent memory—of course—must be that which occurred on 6 January 2021 in the United States, when organized groups and swarms of disorganized supporters of former President Donald Trump stormed the capital in a misguided attempt to stop the certification of the Presidential election results that had been collected in Election day just months prior.
In Peruvian history, however, the father of the right-wing candidate—Keiko Fujimori—whom Castillo previously beat in July of 2021 to ascend to the position he was recently impeached from before being arrested, Alberto Fujimori, executed a successful autogolpe in April of 1992; Castillo’s recent attempt has reminded this author—as well as many other scholars on the topic of autogolpes—of that success, even as the modern version failed.
It is one of the more well-discussed cases in the limited discourse on the topic of autogolpes, largely because of how it was pulled off and the audacity and brutality of Alberto Fujimori across his long, dubious reign. It is, however, far from the only interesting autogolpe across the last century.
Furthermore, should one delve a bit further back into history, some interesting examples can be plucked of interesting autogolpes as well; they range from Peru and Guatemala to Cuba; from South Korea to Greece, and from the 18th century to the 20th and our very own, and help to demonstrate the various forms and natures that the autogolpe can take.
Only by understanding how autogolpes have previously occurred across nations and time can the people of each polity better safeguard themselves and their country from electing individuals who would subvert constitutional paradigms for power. In the vein of this way of thinking, we must begin at the foundation of everything—the meaning of the word at the center of this work itself.
To quote two explanations of mine from a previously published Liberal Currents piece that discussed the Presidential Election in Brazil across October and November of this current year:
“The word autogolpe is, itself, a clue concerning the nature of the concept it represents. Spanish in the word’s immediate origins—and certainly, Spanish-speaking Latin American nations have much experience concerning the illegal and undemocratic seizing of power. Each part of the word—“auto” and “golpe”—derives further from Latin—“auto” and “colaphus”—and, of course, Greek—“αὐτο” and “κόλαφος.” In terms of and from the perspective of the state, therefore, an autogolpe can be literally understood to mean a self-blow, or an attack coming from within. Of course, the leader or group of leaders working to remain in power by illegal means after initially coming to authority legally are not hurting themselves by their machinations, but the people and state of society collectively.”
An attack on the state, by the state, therefore, is the name of the game. Autogolpes are attacks on the integrity of the nation itself, as those with the greatest and most dear responsibilities willingly subvert their oaths and accountability to the people of their country because of their grotesque lust for raw and unbridled power. This can be seen throughout history and circumstance; it is a scenario where the chance to wield power momentarily—whether for a limited term or in some capacity more limited than the leader or its administration desire for—is more intoxicating than behaving as a proper statesperson should, in power and in electoral or parliamentary defeat.
The second paragraph in that essay of importance, in laying the base knowledge necessary to delve into the topic further, concerns the studied prevalence of autogolpe attempts and successes across the last 75 to 125 years:
“Autogolpes do not have a universally agreed-upon definition across the scholarly world, and so the official counts vary between scholars and institutions. Indeed, while John Chin, a research coordinator at the Institute for Politics and Strategy, states that, between 1946 and 2020 alone, an estimated 148 autogolpes have at least been attempted—110 times in autocracies, and 38 times in democracies, the Center for Systematic Peace has—as of earlier in 2022—noted that 41 successful cases of what they termed, “Subversion by Ruling Executive” existed, and the Cline Center for Advanced Social Research put the number at at least 64 attempted autogolpes since 1900, while the US is the most Democratic out of any of the nations on their lists where an autogolpe attempt was observed or noted.”
Autogolpes, however in vogue across the last 75-plus years it might be, are nothing new though—as I have previously alluded to. To take and to judge an autogolpe by the literal, practical, and variously cobbled together definitions, one might suggest that the seizure of the power or powers of a government by an individual or group of individuals through otherwise illegal or unprecedented means has been witnessed across history and time—from the time of Julius Caesar and before, to the reign of the first King Charles of England and since. While not all societies or governments function as are often witnessed in modern polities, and their proceedings, the usurpation of previously delineated power or rights by an individual or group spans all of human governance across history, recorded and otherwise.
Sweden and the ascension of their 18th Century King Gustav III is often credited as being an autogolpe, but, again, not all autogolpes look the same in circumstance as by function. Prince Gustav, the eldest son of King Adolf Frederick—the first Swedish monarch of the Holstein-Gottorp line—was firmly in line to receive the crown upon the eventual death of his father in 1771. Yet to the great admirer of Voltaire and proponent—like his contemporary Joseph II of the Holy Roman Empire—of Enlightened Absolutism, ascending to the Swedish throne at this time was a hollow and shallow title and prize; having been stripped of its power by the Swedish assembly—Riksdag—or “Riksens ständer” since the failure of King Charles XII during the Great Northern War and the subsequent Treaty of Nystad of 1721, the monarchy of the Kingdom of Sweden—no longer an Empire—was still a figurehead position for a nation that had an unusually progressive governing paradigm for its era—which would hence be known in that nation as the Age of Liberty.
During the reign of his father—as well as his own predecessor, Frederick I—in fact, attempts had been made to claw back some royal authority and prerogative; 1723, 1756, and 1768 all come to mind immediately. But, with the Riksdag dominated by two rival factions—the less aggressive Caps, famous for their 20-year period of peace immediately after that great northern conflict, and the hawkish Hats, infamous for their dealings across the next 30 years of Swedish history—there was little hope in regathering any real monarchical authority from either party. Hence, by the ascension of Gustav as Gustav III in 1771, to be King of that nation was simply not very important or prestigious.
The autogolpe or Swedish Revolution of 1772 would see the King of Sweden plan and contrive to seize his position’s power back from the Swedish Parliament. That parliament, dominated across the previous three decades by the faction that drove Sweden once again into disastrous wars—ironically enough, like the monarchy they once stripped power from—was to lose much of the power that it had wielded for half a century as Gustav would go on to remake much of Swedish society until his assassination on 16 March, 1792; by the Coup of 1809, Gustav’s dreamed absolute monarchy had been finally crushed for good by the Instrument of Government, resulting in the constitution that would govern the nation from that time until as recently as 1974.
Through the example of King Gustav III, like that of King Charles I of England—who chose in the 17th century to rule for over a decade without calling a parliament at all—we see that an autogolpe does not explicitly have to entail a leader retaking or cementing a power or position that they have lost or are in danger of losing, but can include leaders who—outside of wholly legal, precedented or traditionally political means—simply take power by acting or not acting in ways which are not ultimately in the greater interest of the realm but of the individual. Seen this way, many more examples from down the years can be drawn upon for further historical illustrations of what might be referred to as “autogolpic behaviour”; still, it is difficult to imagine a time period on Earth more full of attempted and successful autogolpes than the century we just left—relatively speaking.
While the 19th Century had perhaps two of the best examples of successful autogolpes in more modern history—dealing with both future Napoleon I and III—it is in the 20th Century where we find both wide-ranging examples of modern autogolpes, as well as an international community of which is more firmly constituted to either respond or take action than it would’ve been at any time before the 1800s.
In part two—which will be released early this next week—those nations like Cuba, Greece, South Korea, Peru, and, if briefly, the United States, will be broached and discussed. The Kings and Emperors of nations like Great Britain, Sweden and France can teach us about how autogolpes once played out—their evolutionary thread so to speak—but only by following the thread to more modern times can the story which has led to our own present reality be better understood, and the future more safely protected.