Crime and violence provoke a great deal of thought among analysts examining democratization in the developing world. Policymakers, international bureaucrats, and many policy analysts generally hew to a “weak state” or “parallel state” paradigm to explain the simultaneous occurrence of the “good” (democracy, economic growth) and the “bad” (crime and violence). Enrique Desmond Arias's book is part of an intellectual and social backlash against these models, whose prescriptions always point to the need for more police power and social programs. It is a particularly ambitious book because he not only wants to show that crime and violence are integral parts of political processes, but he also wants to explain the variations in the way in which the integrating networks function across place and time, as well as their vulnerabilities.

Arias focuses on drug trafficking at the level of the favela, telling us that the drug trade contains multiple levels above it that play virtually no role in crime within the favelas themselves (pp. 32–33). Hence, this is not a study about the drug trade, but rather about its manifestation within the favelas. Crime there had been minor and less violent before the growth of the international cocaine trade; the large profits available provided an incentive for traffickers to settle in favelas with a prime location in the geography of the trade.

Criminal networks develop around trafficking because of the needs of the criminals, the local leadership, the poor people, and an incoherent government (politicians and police with individual agendas that undermine any effort of the state and federal governments to provide public goods). An important point is that government is not absent in these neighborhoods: Politicians ask for votes while police get bribes and the perks that go with a highly public role as defender of public order and safety (though ineffectively in the favelas). But, according to Arias, the state acts more as an exploiter than a provider. This perverse role furnishes traffickers an opportunity to provide public goods (including security from petty crime and police abuse) in return for the ability to operate in the favelas with little fear that residents will inform the police. Local leadership seizes the opportunities presented by mediating among government, residents, and traffickers (including providing politicians a way to indirectly relate to traffickers). Thus, trafficking networks become an integral part of the Brazilian political system and society.

Drug trafficking networks are less hierarchical, more fluid, and more complex than the public and policymakers' perceptions of “organized crime” suggest. Here lies the strength of the drug traffickers and what makes them difficult to defeat. Strike too hard at them and the violence of the state has a direct impact on the inhabitants of the favela, who consequently come to see the order imposed by the traffickers in the neighborhood as more beneficial than the hail of gunfire or daily harassment by the police. Undermine the ability of local leadership to bargain with traffickers for public goods provision without replacing those benefits and residents will seek leaders who can reestablish the connection with the traffickers.

One of the ironic characteristics of these networks is that government aid to the communities, which is designed to improve life and security, winds up being channeled through the networks and hence strengthening the criminals in the neighborhood. Trafficking networks do have vulnerabilities. When the government hears and responds appropriately to residents' social, political, and security needs, the traffickers lose their appeal as providers of public goods. But, Arias, points out, Brazil's new democracy is not structured to give the socially marginalized a place at the table with all the other social forces that make demands upon the government. Hence, government attention is sporadic and never displaces traffickers' reliable presence in the favelas.

To support his argument, Arias uses participant observation and conversations with a number of local residents, spanning multiple visits to the communities between 1997 and 2003. The accumulated information permits him to weave a narrative that is both historical and analytic, if not entirely convincing. Unfortunately, the author has ignored some important methodological issues. Given the level of violence in the favelas, how much confidence can we have in the veracity and representativeness of the information provided? One suspects that more residents who opposed the traffickers and their local allies might have kept quiet out of fear. Arias also fails to provide a case for the representativeness of the views of those speaking with him whose words support the notion of the “legitimacy” of the traffickers; this is a particularly important issue since the favelas in which he worked had upwards of 10 thousand inhabitants. Camilla, a local leader who has “positive” relations with the traffickers and with the favela authorities who work with them, and Angela, a church “activist” speaking in front of Camilla, are quoted for the claim that traffickers “are not as bad” as the police and “do not bother people” (p. 104). But on pages 105–6 and 112, we are presented with Bete, Ignacio (a former policeman), and his wife, as well as Joselino, who tell us a different story, one in which residents do not call the police because they fear retribution from the traffickers. Arias is too caught up in his argument to provide an objective guide.

The book's key contribution is the detailed examination at the local level of how these networks are structured, how they develop, and what their vulnerabilities are. Arias has given us an intriguing interpretation of life in a favela and important hypotheses about drug trafficking. Students and scholars interested in the political economy of criminal networks will find this a must-read.