Uganda – Tension rising over push to scrap presidential age limits

NRM MPs last week unveiled a private member’s bill aimed at removing presidential age limits from the Constitution.

Already in power for over 30 years, President Museveni will be 77 by the 2021 elections, making him too old to run for re-election, the constitutional limit being 75.

The age limit question has dominated political debate in Uganda sine the 2016 elections, with NRM leaders considering various options for how and when (not whether) to amend the constitution.

With the private member’s bill now due to be tabled in Parliament, the battle lines have finally been drawn. MPs—and the security forces—are now moving into position.

What is in the bill

Article 102(b) of the 1995 Constitution currently states that a presidential candidate must be between the ages of 35 and 75 to contest.

The private member’s bill proposes to replace this with the simple provision that any registered voter can run for the presidency. Some proponents of the bill have argued that scrapping the lower as well as upper age limit is a progressive move, creating room for Uganda’s youth to aspire to the presidency as well.

The bill also proposes several additional amendments, including one to increase the amount of time permitted when filing presidential election petitions and extending the deadline by which the Supreme Court must reach a decision.

Supporters of the bill point to these proposed changes as evidence that they are not only concerned with the age limit, and Museveni’s so-called “life presidency”. Rather, they claim to be responding in good faith to Supreme Court’s recommendations following Mbabazi’s petition of the 2016 presidential results.

Overwhelming support

The Bill, prepared in secret, was revealed at an informal gathering of NRM MPs, at least one of whom rose in protest after learning what the meeting was about.

The group backing the Constitutional (Amendment) Bill included both backbench MPs and several Cabinet ministers.

A small number of NRM MPs have since denounced the legislation and proposed an alternative private motion urging government to constitute a Constitutional Review Commission.

The Cabinet, however, went ahead and endorsed the original private member’s bill. An overwhelming 287 NRM MPs then voted to support the legislation at a formal party caucus meeting. Only six MPs dissented

In total, the Constitutional (Amendment) Bill is estimated to command the support of over 300 MPs in Parliament, which to pass needs the backing of two-thirds of the House or 298 MPs.

Why a private member’s bill

The Ugandan Parliament has a long history of passing controversial and highly significant private member’s bills.

The current move is nevertheless noteworthy.

Previous legislation, such as the Administration of Parliament Bill (1997) and Budget Bill (2000), both of which aimed to strengthen the legislature, met with strong opposition from Government.

Not all past private member’s bills had “progressive” aims. But until the age limit issue came up, they were not generally used as a tool by the executive to push its agenda.

The decision of NRM leaders to opt now for a private member’s bill is indicative of two related trends.

First, the constitutional review process has become increasingly piecemeal and informal.

The 1995 Constitution was adopted following several years of nation-wide consultations, a careful drafting process by a constitutional commission, and 18 months of debate by the elected Constituent Assembly. The new Constitution was then held up as evidence that Uganda had turned a page in its troubled history, that it was moving towards a consolidated democracy.

Since then, the Constitution has been gradually weakened, most notably with the 2005 scrapping of presidential term limits. All constitutional amendments up to now nevertheless came from Government and followed some pretence of a constitutional review process.

This time, though, Ministers were frank in stating that their chief concern was to push through the changes as quickly as possible. “If you don’t bring this amendment early enough to allow damage control and explanations, it will be difficult”, advised the NRM Chief Whip at a parliamentary caucus meeting on Wednesday.

Discussing what it meant to amend the supreme law of the land, another Minister declared that Article 102(b) on age limits was “disorganized” and that the aim was to “organize” it.

Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that critical MPs have suggested people start referring to the Constitution of Uganda as “the Constitution of NRM and Museveni”.

The informal approach to constitutional amendments aside, the second reason for the use of a private member’s bill relates to Museveni’s dependence on the NRM parliamentary caucus as a support base.

It was an MP who, at a parliamentary caucus retreat in 2014, got down on her knees to move a motion endorsing Museveni as the sole presidential candidate for the 2016 polls. This came amidst rumours that then Prime Minister Mbabazi was planning to run against him. NRM MPs were later sent to mobilise in support of the sole candidacy motion, each receiving Shs300,000 per constituency meeting.

NRM legislators do resist the President at times, a recent example being their rejection (at least for now) of a proposed constitutional amendment on land. But when it comes to defending Museveni’s presidency, they fall into line. A mix of ambition and patronage can also turn what were independent MPs into loyal cadres.

The MP tasked with tabling the age limit bill in Parliament, one Raphael Magyezi, is a case in point. After first being elected to Parliament in 2011, Magyezi was identified with a small group of “rebel” NRM MPs who, among other things, denounced Museveni’s long stay in power. He later turned, though, and lost his independent reputation.

The choice of Magyezi to table the age limit bill is also interesting in that it may help sway the one person who could pose an obstacle, the sometimes-independent Speaker Rebecca Kadaga. Magyezi was the chairman of the special taskforce that Kadaga assembled to spearhead her hard-fought campaign for re-election as Speaker.

While it is unlikely that Kadaga would interfere with the age limit amendment, having a strong supporter as the face of the bill certainly can’t hurt as a precautionary measure.

Where to from here

The plan was to table the bill in Parliament yesterday.

This coincided with a security crackdown in Kampala and in some regional towns. Police raided NGO offices, the Kampala Mayor was arrested along with journalists, the headquarters of two opposition parties were sealed off, groups of protesters across the capital city were shot at with rubber bullets and teargas, their leaders were arrested, a police helicopter circled the city centre, Parliament was surrounded by police and soldiers, and some oppositional MPs were reportedly blocked by police from entering the building.

The US Embassy in Kampala issued a statement expressing concern “that recent arrests and raids stifle the Ugandan people’s right to free expression.” Government spokesperson Ofwondo Opondo later responded that government “wont’ take unqualified lectures from foreign agents.”

The tension in the streets did not stop MPs from attending Parliament. They packed the Chamber, an unusual event given that House debates often go ahead without quorum. One anti-age limit MP showed up in a yellow VW Bug and dressed from leather shoes to baseball cap in the same official NRM colour. An opposition MP, meanwhile, came in a red track suit, declaring that if the constitution could be changed, she could change her dress code.

The debate was a non-starter, though, after Deputy Speaker Oulanyah failed to secure order in the House amidst loud whistling and singing of the national anthem by opposition MPs. He eventually adjourned Parliament till next week, giving him time to consult with Speaker Kadaga on the way forward.

While it is unclear exactly how events will unfold, Parliament will likely soon enact the age limit bill. The real question is what happens after that.

Many Ugandans on social media yesterday likened the general drift of President Museveni’s regime with the administration of former President Milton Obote in the 1960s. One MP recalled the “constitutional trickery” that took place in 1966 and culminated with the adoption of the “pigeon-hole” constitution, so called because MPs found it ready-drafted in their mail while the parliamentary building was surrounded by armed soldiers.

Certainly, Museveni’s own one-time assertion that he would break with the past, letting “people of presidential calibre and capacity” take over, has not aged well. Some of his most ardent supporters have also abandoned all pretences, warning, “They should know that we are the party in power, we have the support of the maggye [army], you cannot tell us Togikwatako [don’t touch it, article 102(b)].”

There is clearly cause for concern not only about next week’s parliamentary session but, more fundamentally, about what a post-Museveni Uganda might look like. The pre-Museveni period does not offer much positive inspiration, but with no clear succession plan and a strong—but factionally divided—security force, it is understandable that people are looking to Uganda’s history to make sense of its current path.

How Do Minority Presidents Manage Multiparty Coalitions?

This is a blog post by Svitlana Chernykh based on her recent article with Paul Chaisty published in Political Research Quarterly (Online First). The full article can be found here.

Although the concept of coalitional presidentialism is not new, until recently, the question of how presidents form and manage their coalitions has been explored primarily in the context of Latin American presidential democracies. However, we know little about how and whether these theories travel outside Latin America. In “How Do Minority Presidents Manage Multiparty Coalitions? Identifying and Analyzing the Payoffs to Coalition Parties in Presidential Systems” we use original quantitative and qualitative data to analyse how minority presidents manage their multiparty coalitions to achieve legislative support in Ukraine.

Why Ukraine? With few exceptions, the country has been governed by multiparty cabinet coalitions since 1996 and thus offers rich macro-level data. Ukraine is also a difficult case with which to test institutional hypotheses. Many scholars of Ukrainian politics have questioned the applicability of notions of coalitional behavior to the country and have suggested that coalitional solutions to the problems of limited legislative support are difficult to operate in the Ukrainian context. Finally, presidential coalitions in Ukraine frequently contain cabinet parties as well as parties that do not have cabinet representation. This allowed us to explore the non-cabinet strategies that presidents used to manage the support of coalition parties.

Portfolio Allocation and Cabinet Coalition Discipline in Ukraine

In the first part of the paper, we test a now well-established hypothesis in Latin American literature that cabinet portfolio payoffs to coalition allies raise the level of legislative support for presidents. Our dependent variable is coalition discipline. It is measured as the percentage of legislators belonging to cabinet parties who voted in favour of bills introduced by the executive branch. Our main independent variable is the level of cabinet coalescence or the level of fairness in the distribution of cabinet posts among coalition members [1].

We find that cabinet coalescence has a positive and statistically significant effect on cabinet coalition discipline in Ukraine. To put it in substantive terms, an increase in cabinet coalescence by 10 percent increases cabinet coalition discipline by 2.4 percent. Thus, the dynamics of coalitional presidentialism in Ukraine are similar to those that we find in Latin America. The presidents who compose their cabinets more proportionally can expect a higher degree of satisfaction from allied parties and thus higher levels of discipline.

Managing Parties Outside of the Cabinet 

However, Ukrainian presidents also rely on the support of parties that do not receive portfolio payoffs. As the figure below shows, the number of non-cabinet coalition parties is significant in the Ukrainian case. In fact, the inclusion of non-cabinet parties was crucial in giving each president minimum winning majorities or near majorities.

Figure 1. The number of Ukrainian parties in cabinet and floor coalitions, 1996–2011.

 

How did the presidents in Ukraine secure their support? What were the motivations behind these parties’ decision to join the coalitions? To answer these questions, we interviewed 50 legislators, of whom 60 per cent were members of the coalition in 2012. We designed an interview sample and a number of structured and semi-structured questions to help us explore whether the perceived benefits of coalition membership differed significantly between members of coalition parties that had and did not have cabinet representation.

As figures 2 and 3 show, that the motivation to support the president differed between coalition parties that were members of the cabinet and those that were not. Non-cabinet coalition parties were significantly likely to identify extra-cabinet strategies such as patronage, budget payoffs, and informal favours when asked about strategies that the president used to form the coalition (figure2).

Figure 2. Percentage of non-cabinet and cabinet coalition party members who identified the importance of extra- cabinet benefits (patronage, budget resources, and informal favours) in the formation of coalitions.

We find a similar pattern when analysing the responses to a structural question, which asked legislators to choose the first and second most important reason why a political party would decide to join a presidential coalition from a list of options (figire 3). Members of the cabinet party were significantly more likely to identify policy influence and cabinet positions than the members of non-cabinet parties within the floor coalition. In contract, members of non-cabinet parties were more likely to mention budget influence and especially the informal exchange of favours than members of cabinet parties.

Figure 3. Percentage of non-cabinet and cabinet coalition party members who selected as the first or second most important reason why a political party might choose to join a presidential coalition.

Therefore, on the one hand, the Ukraine case validates extant analysis on the effects of cabinet management on legislative behaviour. This suggests that coalitional presidentialism is not simply a unique Latin American phenomenon and gives us good reasons to expect similar dynamics in other regions of the world. Given the increasing preponderance of minority presidents in new democracies, this presents the opportunity to compare a diverse range of presidential cases across other parts of Europe as well as other regions including Africa and Asia.

On the other hand, the Ukrainian case also highlights the multivariate nature of the strategies that presidents deploy to maintain their legislative support. This adds a new dimension to the extant literature, which has mainly focused on the tools deployed by presidents at the cabinet level. By distinguishing between cabinet and floor coalitions, it is possible to identify parties that are motivated to join presidential coalitions by reasons other than cabinet portfolios. This finding highlights the need to consider the entire “toolbox” of resources that presidents can use to maintain their coalitional support [2]. 

 

[1] Amorim Neto, Octavio. 2002. “Presidential Cabinets, Electoral Cycles, and Coalition Discipline in Brazil”, in: Scott Morgenstern and Benito Nacif (eds), Legislative Politics in Latin America, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 48–78.

[2] Chaisty, Paul, Nic Cheeseman, and Timothy J. Power. 2014. “Rethinking the ‘Presidentialism Debate’: Coalitional Politics in Cross-Regional Perspective.” Democratization 21: 72–94.

Lee Savage – How do president’s influence coalition bargaining in semi-presidential systems?

This is a guest post by Lee Savage in the Department of European & International Studies at King’s College London. It is based on his article in European Journal of Political Research.

Presidents in semi-presidential systems usually have a constitutionally prescribed role in the government formation process. Often, this is limited to the ability to appoint either a formateur or candidate for prime minister who will then go on to form a cabinet which must maintain the confidence of the legislature. In some countries, such as Bulgaria and Ireland, even the power to appoint a prime minister is limited by constitutional requirements to select the leader of the largest party in the legislature.

Even though the constitution may define a limited role for presidents role in government formation, they can still exert influence over the cabinet that eventually takes office. Previous research has shown that presidents can influence the composition of the cabinet by increasing the proportion of non-partisan ministers that are appointed. In some circumstances, presidents can also increase the likelihood of a cabinet leaving office prematurely. In new research, I have shown how presidents influence the coalition formation process itself by decreasing the duration of bargaining negotiations.

The duration of the government formation process can have significant consequences for a state. For example, the 541-day bargaining process experienced by Belgium between 2010 and 2011 resulted in the legislature’s failure to pass a budget which, in turn, led to an official rebuke from the European Commission. However, it is notable that there are few examples of protracted coalition bargaining processes in semi-presidential systems. But is this a result of presidential influence, and if so, then how is this influence exerted when cabinet formation is usually the preserve of the legislature in semi-presidential democracies? I argue that the influence of presidents on the duration of coalition bargaining is a result of first, the extent of their constitutional powers and second, their partisanship.

Presidential powers and coalition bargaining

The constitutionally-mandated powers of the president increase their legitimacy to intervene in the government formation process. More powerful presidents are seen as possessing greater legitimacy to act in the eyes of other actors in the process, specifically, the legislative parties. This legitimacy to act decreases the duration of the coalition bargaining process by reducing its complexity. More powerful presidents place implicit limits on the range of governing proposals that are acceptable to all politically relevant actors in the process. Presidents with stronger non-legislative powers, such as the power to appoint the prime minister, dissolve the cabinet, or dissolve the assembly can intervene directly in the process of government formation. The legislative parties will seek to propose a cabinet that is more acceptable to the president and reduce the likelihood that they will use their dissolution powers.

Presidents with stronger legislative powers also reduce the complexity of the bargaining process. Presidents are co-executive actors in semi-presidential systems and will govern alongside the cabinet as both try to satisfy the policy preferences of their voters. Rationally foresighted parties in the legislature will understand this and seek to limit their proposed cabinets to the set that can govern in relative harmony with the president. If a cabinet is appointed that has a completely divergent legislative agenda from that of the president then it increases the likelihood of conflict between the president and the legislature. Presidents can use their powers of veto or delay to disrupt the government legislation, or generally act to impede the cabinet’s legislative agenda as was the case during the period of cohabitation in France between 1986 and 1988.

In sum, when presidents have greater powers the range of potential governments is reduced to the set that will be more likely to be stable and are able to implement its legislative agenda. The chart below shows the effect that presidential powers have on the likelihood that coalition bargaining will end on a given day. At low levels of presidential powers (those that receive a score of 2 on the Shugart-Carey index) the likelihood of coalition bargaining ending sooner is increased by around 50 percentage points in semi-presidential systems. However, when presidents are more powerful (those that receive a score of 8) the likelihood of government formation ending sooner is increased by 120 percentage points.

Simulated marginal effect of semi-presidentialism on the hazard of coalition bargaining ending, conditional on presidential powers.

Note: Results are taken from model three of Table 1. Graph is based on 1,000 simulations.

Presidential partisanship and coalition bargaining

Some studies of semi-presidentialism, particularly those that examine cabinet composition, begin from the premise that the president has both a mandate and preferences that diverge from those of their party. This is apparent in those studies which view the appointment of non-partisan ministers to the cabinet as an indicator of presidential influence. Others have argued that presidents have large incentives to act in a more partisan manner. Party organisations provide campaigning support for presidential candidates and presidents that have a base of support in the legislature are more likely to be able to fulfil the policy preferences of their voters. In some instances, it has been argued that legislative parties in semi-presidential systems have become ‘presidentialised’ with the presidential candidate able to set the agenda for the party as a whole. Following the presidentialisation logic, it can be argued that the president will be more likely to see a cabinet proposal that includes their party as more acceptable than one that doesn’t. Other rationally foresighted parties in the legislature will also concede that such a proposal is more sustainable if it avoids a period of unstable cohabitation.

The complexity of coalition bargaining will therefore be lower when the president’s party holds a stronger bargaining position in the legislature. When the president’s party is a member of a greater proportion of minimal winning coalitions the range of governing proposals that are acceptable to all politically relevant actors is more easily identifiable. Therefore, when the president’s party holds a stronger bargaining position, the duration of coalition bargaining will be reduced.

Simulated marginal effect of semi-presidentialism on the hazard of coalition bargaining ending, conditional on the bargaining power of the president’s party.

Note: Results are taken from model three of Table 1. Graph is based on 1,000 simulations

 

The chart above shows the effect of semi-presidentialism on the duration of coalition bargaining, conditional on the bargaining power of the president’s party which is measured by the Shapley-Shubik Index (the SSI indicates the proportion of minimal winning coalitions in the legislature to which the president’s party is pivotal). As is clear from the chart, the likelihood of coalition bargaining ending sooner rather than later increases along with the bargaining power of the president’s party. To give an example of this relationship, in Poland, the first government to form after the inauguration of the SLD president, Aleksander Kwaśniewski, was an SLD-PSL coalition that took just 12 days to negotiate in 1996. The SLD’s bargaining power was 0.41 on the SSI at the time, meaning that it was a pivotal player in around 41 percent of possible coalitions. Following the 1997 general election, the SLDs bargaining power was reduced to 0.22 and government formation lasted 40 days resulting in the formation of an AWS-UW coalition.

Implications

The results of my research point to the systemic influence of semi-presidentialism on the duration of coalition bargaining. Presidents with greater powers can wield more influence over cabinet formation and other parties in the system adjust their own behaviour and expectations to account for presidential preferences. A further implication of the study is that presidential partisanship matters. Contrary to some studies which assume presidents are almost non-partisan actors, the results presented here indicate that presidents have an interest in seeing their parties succeed and are willing to act to facilitate their success.

Joel C. Moses – President Putin and the 2017 Russian Gubernatorial Elections

This is a guest post by Joel C. Moses, Professor Emeritus of Political Science at Iowa State University (jmoses@iastate.edu, jcmoses23@gmail.com)

Elections for 16 Russian governors in the 85 regions of the country were contested on September 10, 2017. They were held in conjunction with nationwide local and regional elections that have taken place annually on the second Sunday of September since 2014.  In 2017, 6,000 races including the 16 for governor would affect 46 million voters, approximately half  the  entire Russian electorate, with 42 political parties registered to participate in one or more of  these races.

President Putin’s ruling political party, United Russia (UR), through its direct association with Putin has a huge monopoly advantage from financial contributions and national media exposure over the three other national parliamentary opposition parties.[i]  With UR winning almost three-fourths of all votes cast nationally in previous annual local-regional September elections, the 16 UR incumbent governors in 2017 counted on mobilizing an ensured turnout of support from the party’s base. The UR political base included state employees pressured to vote as an implicit requirement for their jobs  along with pensioners, students, and military oftentimes compliantly bussed en masse to precincts.

The remaining electorate has lacked equivalent motivation to vote. Many potential voters would only just have returned to work distracted from any campaigning on their August summer holidays or dacha gardening. They would be forced to choose between United Russia and an array of non-competitive party candidates on the ballot intended only to dilute the effect of any anti-UR votes. Low voting turnout in elections has reflected a certain political resignation among many Russian voters outside the UR base that their votes really don’t  matter. Their feeling was that results already were predetermined and if necessary fraudulently reported by regional election commissions to certify victories by the UR candidates.

President Putin suspended all gubernatorial elections in 2005-2011. When they were restored under a 2012 amended federal law, they included a new federally mandated requirement for all regions termed the “municipal filter.” Only candidates with notarized signatures from a minimal percentage of  local municipal deputies and chief executives in their regions from an equivalent minimal percentage of regional locales qualify to be balloted as gubernatorial candidates.

Like governors the previous five years, the 2017 incumbent governors took advantage of this  municipal filter in their regions to disqualify any real competition in Sverdlovsk, Buryatiya, and Sevastopol. They persuaded the overwhelmingly majority UR local deputies not to sign for potentially strong challengers or influenced regional election commissions appointed by the same governors to disallow allegedly invalid signatures. Even pro-Kremlin Russian analysts two weeks before September 10 conceded that only two of the 16 races were even very slightly competitive as a consequence of the municipal filter.[ii]  Russian gubernatorial elections since 2012 have been decided less by outright vote fraud at the polls on the day of the election than the limited choice on the ballot other than incumbents predetermined by the municipal filter  weeks  before the voting itself.

Gubernatorial elections are won by an absolute majority. If no candidate has an absolute majority, the top two finishers in the first round compete to decide the winner in a run-off held two weeks later on Sunday in September. Based on past results since 2012, the prospects for the 16 incumbent governors in 2017 appeared to be very good. A  total 7 gubernatorial elections had   been held annually since 2012. In all 71 races through 2016, the winning incumbent was the official UR nominee 67 times. Their winning margin averaged close to 75% with some achieving victories by 85-95% over all their opponents. The UR-nominated incumbent failed to win the election just once in the only gubernatorial run-off election since 2012 – Irkutsk with the Communist Party candidate winning an upset victory in 2015. The three other non-UR incumbents in Kirov and  Orel in 2014 and Smolensk in 2015 were in effect endorsed by President Putin with United Russia not contesting the races with their own candidates. Five additional UR incumbent governors nominated by Putin also were chosen unanimously by their regional parliaments in 2013 and 2014.[iii]

The 16 governors were slated to run for five-year terms with the allowance to serve not more  than two  terms in the same region since elections were restored in 2012. Yet the 16 scheduled races on September 10 were at least an uncertain political challenge for both the national government and  the incumbent governors. For the national government, Putin’s Russia in the first decade of the century riding high on soaring revenue from oil and gas exports is not Putin’s Russia over the past four years in economic recession with rising unemployment and inflation, drastically falling export earnings, depleted hard-currency reserves, a declining ruble exchange rate, and Western economic sanctions against Putin’s Ukraine aggression. All Russian  governors have been tasked to formulate economic crisis policies resolving the regional effects  of  the country’s national  recession. Adding to the challenge of the economic crisis is rampant official corruption throughout Russia with revenue and resources diverted into bribery, kickbacks, and embezzlement.

To burnish his anti-corruption image, President Putin has used governors as convenient scapegoats for mishandling their own economic situations actually stemming from his own national policy failures. Under provisions of the 2012 amended law on gubernatorial elections, President Putin has the constitutional authority at any time to depose governors for a range of  reasons including his “lack of confidence” in their ability. He has arbitrarily deposed even governors who may just have been elected a previous year. The governors in these 16 regions were appointed by Putin as the acting heads of  their  regions for 2017 under a presidentially granted right to run for election to their offices in the next scheduled September nationwide election.

In his third presidential term since 2012, Putin had replaced 2 of the 85 regions with allegedly incorruptible “outsider” (varyag) governors without any prior association or careers in their regions. Four of the 21 deposed governors  in Komi and Sakhalin in 2015, Kirov in 2016, and  Udmurtiya in 2017 were actually arrested and jailed on charges of bribery and embezzlement.  The problem for governors arises when still in their five-year terms or just appointed acting heads they run for the office. Governors hope by winning a direct election to bank a five-year  mandate with President Putin and their own population before economic conditions get even worse. Like their predecessors, election was the option by the 16 governors in 2017.

For Putin, the 2017 gubernatorial elections had an even more direct personal significance as political theatre. It would be the last nationwide election before the 2018 presidential election.  September 10 was important to have a relatively high voter turnout in regions and a  non-controversial outcome without widespread allegations of dishonest campaigning, election rules violations, and vote fraud by the incumbent governors. A marred election nationally would diminish the legitimacy for Putin’s own subsequent run for a fourth term as president in 2018.  The staged goal for September 10, 2017 was an enthusiastic public endorsement for Putin’s own presidential re-election on March 18, 2018. The election of the 16 whom Putin had appointed acting governors in 2017 was as much a referendum on himself for his 4th term.

Incumbent governors among recently appointed outsiders were less likely to win without dishonest campaigning, election violations, and fraud. More than their predecessors, the 16 faced uncertain campaigns in the few months between their appointments as acting heads by Putin and electoral success in September. Putin had appointed seven the new governors  of  their regions for the first time just from February to April of 2017. They were distrusted by the regional economic-political elites, unfamiliar with the particular nuances of campaigning in their newly assigned regions, and unknown by voters before their appointments. All 16 would have preferred only moderate turnout with a disproportionate UR political base voting and potentially anti-incumbent voters not showing up at the precincts on September 10.

Adding to their liabilities, many of the 16  were technocrats without any prior political experience or elected offices.[iv] They did not debate their opponents in public forums or on regional television over July and August. All 16 campaigned essentially as a public relations outreach of their office as governor. They traveled around their regions issuing policy statements before prearranged audiences to showcase themselves through their internet websites and regional media. Most UR incumbent governors since 2012 had won easily by their close Putin association enhanced since 2014 by the patriotic euphoria in Russia from Putin’s  annexation  of Crimea. The unpredictable factor for the 16 in the run-up to the election on September 10 was  the reaction of voters to the now almost four-year national economic recession.

Despite the uncertainties for the 16 governors and Putin, the results a week ago on September 10 must have seemed reassuring for both.[v] The political base of United Russia held firm for the election. All 16 incumbent governors won with an average victory margin almost exactly the same as governors since 2012 at 74.36%, ranging from 60-64% in four regions to 80-88% in six. The seven new governors just appointed in 2017 were not  disadvantaged with an even higher average victory margin of 77.92%, five between 78 and 88%, and only two marginally competitive at 61 and 68%. The new governor of Marii El just appointed by Putin on April 7 won by a 88% margin over his opponents with a reported 44% of the eligible voters in the region participating.

The election may have fallen short of President Putin’s goal of a large enthusiastic voter turnout as his referendum for 2018. Yet participation in these 16 regions at least was respectably equivalent to past September elections, averaging 39.83% of all their registered voters and only slightly less at 36.42% for the regions headed by his seven newly appointed 2017 governors.  Allegations of rule violations and vote fraud usually require a couple of weeks after an election to be filed with the Central Election Commission and courts, but early reports suggest that a fewer number of complaints will be submitted  than after past elections. As predicted beforehand by analysts in the Russian media, September 10 was a “quiet” election without any major controversies.

Putin soon will announce his intention to run again for president with his national public approval still at 80% or higher despite the economic recession. In retrospect, the election of the 16 incumbent governors only reaffirmed Putin’s seemingly unassailable political authority throughout Russia for his fourth term as president in 2018-24. Putin in Act 4 successfully previewed September 10, 2017.

Notes

[i] Communist Party of  the  Russian Federation, Liberal Democratic Party of  Russia, and A Just Russia.

[ii] Irina Nagornykh, “Munitsipal’nyi  fil’tr slishkom malo propuskaet,” Kommersant, 28 August 2017, at https://www.kommersant.ru/doc/3395829.

[iii] Under a 2013 federal amendment, regional parliaments are   allowed to suspend their gubernatorial elections and choose their governor from three candidates nominated by President Putin.  On September 10, the incumbent UR appointed governor of  Adygeya was chosen unanimously under the same provision by its regional parliament.

[iv] Carolina De Stefano, “Kremlin-Governor Relations in the Run-Up to the 2018 Presidential Elections,” Russian Analytical Digest, No. 201 (18 April 2017), pp. 2-6.

[v] Calculations for the final election results and voter turnout are based on totals for each of  the  16 regions compiled by Ivan Sinergiev and Andrei Pertsev, “Gubernatorskie vybory: kto bol’she,” Kommersant, 14 September 2017, at https://www.kommersant.ru/doc/3408129.

Armenia – The others and Russia: Walking the complementarity tightrope

In the last months, Armenia has been remarkably active in developing and enhancing its international ties. However, Russia has not stopped keeping in check its “small brother”. Armenia’s sudden withdrawal from NATO’s Agile Spirit exercise in Georgia is illustrative of the pressures and challenges it faces. Rather than being confined to the foreign policy realm, these developments have some domestic implications.

Over the summer, Armenia was working towards the strengthening of the relationship with a plurality of actors. Such diplomatic activism can be interpreted as being in line with its main foreign policy guideline, namely complementarity. That means cultivating ties with as many international partners as possible, within the leeway consented by Russia. Concerning the relationship with the EU, Yerevan and Brussels are expected to sign the Comprehensive and Enhanced Partnership Agreement (CEPA), whose details were finalized in March. Both Piotr Switalski, the head of the EU Delegation in Yerevan, and the Armenian president, Serzh Sargsyan, are confident about a successful outcome. In the words of Mr Sargsyan: “We have no reason to not sign that document”. A similar statement was also made by Prime Minister Karen Karapetian. Other than interacting with the EU, Armenian officials had discussions with their Iranian counterparts about the implementation of a free-trade zone. Additionally, Armenian president Serzh Sargsyan and the Turkmen president Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedov pledged to reinforce their bilateral ties. These developments, and some prior diplomatic moves, have domestic implications. Thus, they can be understood as being linked to the September 2016 Government reshuffle, and to the need to promote foreign investments and sustainable developmen[1].

Focusing on the relationship with the EU, CEPA can be interpreted as the last episode of a complex interaction. In addition to being an upgrade in bilateral relations, the signature of CEPA is relevant since at the last minute, in September 2013, Armenia withdrew from the Association Agreement (AA) talks with Brussels and announced instead its decision to join the Russian-led Eurasian Union. Even though most analysts suspect this U-turn to be the result of Kremlin pressure, Armenian political elites have never publicly admitted that this was the case. For instance, in recent times President Sargsyan denied any such external interference, saying that: “We negotiated with both the EEU and the EU, since initially both sides said that one does not interfere with one another. But, what should we do when the European Union said that it hinders?”[2] In other words, it was hinted that the EU, rather than Armenia, suddenly departed from what had been previously agreed. However, in spite of this official rhetoric, the influence of Russia seems clear[3].

The withdrawal from the Association Agreement shows that Russia can be an unpredictable and capricious “big brother”. Thus, while there should be no objection to signing CEPA[4], the Kremlin still keeps a close eye on its South Caucasian ally. In this regard, notwithstanding the diplomatic activism of the past months, the last-minute withdrawal from the NATO’s Agile Spirit exercise in Georgia, which took place between September 3 and September 11 was remarkable.

Armenia is a member of the Russian-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO). However, the country has been developing ties with NATO, as per the Individual Partnership Action Plan and the Partnership for Peace program. Within this framework, some Armenian troops took part in NATO’s peacekeeping operations in Afghanistan and Kosovo[5]. Aware of the possible tensions and misunderstandings arising from this situation, Armenian cadres often specified that cooperation with NATO neither interfered with the CSTO’s commitments nor involved any future plan of membership. For instance, during an interview in July 2017, President Sargsyan ruled out any ambition to join NATO[6].However, in spite of these precautions, the withdrawal from the NATO drill seems indicative of some misunderstanding between Moscow and Yerevan.

Armenian policymakers said that their participation was never confirmed. Notably, Armenian Deputy Speaker Eduard Sharmazanov also remarked that, notwithstanding cooperation with NATO, CSTO plays a crucial role for the security of Armenia[7]. However, that does not mean cutting ties with NATO. In this regard, presidential spokesperson Vladimir Akopyan stated that missing the military exercise did not prelude a reconsideration of the relationship with NATO (i.e. cooperation without membership)[8]. It must be added that it is not the first episode of this kind. In 2009 Armenia, after confirming its involvement in a NATO exercise, also pulled out at the last moment[9].

Despite the aforementioned declarations, some doubts are in order. Georgi Kajarava, the Georgian Defense Ministry spokesman, said that this decision was highly unexpected[10]. Even more explicitly, the Armenian expert Ruben Mehrabyan bluntly said that: “A simple comparison of realities that have taken shape in the region and Armenian-Russian relations simply rule out any theories for the exception of Russia resorting to brazen blackmail and the Armenian leadership back-pedalling.” Mr Mehrabyan also ruled out that the withdrawal of Armenia could be attributed to the participation of Azerbaijan. First, Baku announced its involvement at the very last minute. Second, both Armenia and Azerbaijan participated in games organized and hosted by Russia[11].

The hypotheses about Russian pressure= are reinforced by an analysis of the Russian press. The pro-government newspaper “Pravda” used the expression “common sense prevailed” when commenting on Armenia’s sudden refusal to participate in the NATO drill. In the same article, which also hinted at the unhappiness of Russia with the cooperation between NATO and Armenia, it was plainly stated that: “We would also like to remind our Armenian friends that it was Vladimir Putin (not Angela Merkel) who stopped the offensive of Azerbaijani troops in Nagorno-Karabakh in April [2016][12]”.

While these dynamics relate to the international sphere, they are also relevant to the understanding of domestic developments, first and foremost the future of Serzh Sargsyan[13]. As reported in this blog, Mr Sargsyan declared that in the future he would like to be involved in security affairs. However, he prudently refrained from commenting on the NATO issue. Due to the constitutional reform of 2015[14], Mr Sargsyan could extend his position in power by becoming premier. Given that, his silence could be interpreted as a way to avoid tensions with a crucial partner.

In addition to this prudence in international affairs, an analysis of domestic dynamics also seems to confirm the unwillingness of Mr Sargsyan to quietly retire. While he refrains from declarations about his future, Galust Sahakian, a deputy chairman of President Sargsyan’s Republican Party of Armenia (HHK), declared that the President should stay in power after the end of his second presidential mandate (i.e. should become Prime Minister), since no other leader could take up such a responsibility.

In conclusion, Armenia needs to find a balance between its desire for investments and modernization, and its need for not displeasing Russia. Turning to the current leadership, prudent decisions seem connected to their permanence in power.

Notes

[1] Refer to Erik Davtyan’s analysis for more insight on Armenia recent diplomatic moves and their implications.

[2] ARMINFO News Agency. 2017. “Kiesler: European Union is ready to sign agreement on extended and comprehensive partnership with Armenia”, September 12 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[3] This author conducted expert interviews in Armenia in Summer 2015 and Summer 2015. All her respondents agreed on Russia having strongly influenced that decision. For further insights, refer to: Loda, C. (2016, May). Perception of the EU in Armenia: A View from the Government and Society. In Caucasus, the EU and Russia-Triangular Cooperation?. Nomos Nomos. Pp 131-152.

[4] BMI Research. 2017. “New EU Deal No Game Changer”, Armenia Country Risk Report, October 1 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[5] Thai News Service. 2017. “Armenia: Armenian presidential spokesman comments on relations with NATO”, September 8 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[6] Thai News Service. 2017. “Armenia: Armenian presidential spokesman comments on relations with NATO”, September 8 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[7] BBC Monitoring Trans Caucasus Unit. 2017. “Programme summary of Armenian Public TV news 1700 gmt 4 Sep 17”, September 5 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[8] ITAR-TASS. 2017. “Armenian presidential spokesman says no plans to review relations with NATO”, September 07 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[9] ARMINFO News Agency. 2017. “Dashnaktsakan: Armenia is an independent state, and can independently decide in which exercises to take part, and in which there is no”, September 04 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[10] ARMINFO News Agency. 2017. “Armenia to participate in the training “Combat Commonwealth 2017” within the framework of the CIS against the backdrop of refusal to participate in NATO exercises”, September 4 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[11] BBC Monitoring Trans Caucasus Unit. 2017. “Pundit: Armenia misses US-led drills due to Russia’s “brazen blackmail””, September 6 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[12] Stepushova, Lyubov. 2017. “Russia tells Armenia where to sit”, Pravda.Ru, September 7, http://www.pravdareport.com/world/ussr/07-09-2017/138617-armenia-0/.

[13] BMI Research. 2017. “New EU Deal No Game Changer”, Armenia Country Risk Report, October 1 (Retrieved through LexisNexis).

[14] In 2015, a constitutional referendum reduced the powers of the President and enhanced those of the Prime Minister. Considering the political implications of this change, it has been observed that it would enable President Sargsyan, who is serving his second and last presidential mandate, to extend his permanence in power by becoming Premier. This blog extensively covered this topic, focusing on the details of the reform, the campaign before the vote and the relevant debate in 2016 and 2017.

Carlos Pereira, Mariana Batista, Sérgio Praça and Felix Lopez – How Presidents Monitor Coalitions in Brazil’s Multiparty Presidential Regime

This is a guest post from Mariana Batista based on her recent article with Carlos Pereira, Sérgio Praça and Felix Lopez,  ‘Watchdogs in Our Midst: How Presidents Monitor Coalitions in Brazil’s Multiparty Presidential Regime’, published in the Fall edition of Latin American Politics and Society. The full article can be found here.

In “Watchdogs in Our Midst: How Presidents Monitor Coalitions in Brazil’s Multiparty Presidential Regime” we analyze coalition politics from the perspective of what happens after government formation or what are the president’s strategies to manage “a government of strangers” (Heclo, 2011).

We argue that presidents in multiparty settings deal with the fundamental dilemma of delegating power to coalition partners while minimizing the risk of policy drift. Cabinet positions are the main currency of coalition politics and a fundamental part of coalition formation and survival. However, when trusting cabinet positions to coalition partners, the president runs the risk of being expropriated by their cabinet. There are some mechanisms to minimize the risk of expropriation in coalition governments such as coalition agreements, inner cabinets, centralized screening, and legislative oversight. In our article, we explore the strategy to reduce policy drift based on the appointment of junior ministers.

Junior ministers are the second in command in a ministry and may act as watchdogs on behalf of the president. When presidents cannot “choose whom to trust” (Martinez-Gallardo and Schleiter, 2015) they still may use their appointment powers to appoint a junior minister loyal to their preferences. By doing so, the president will have eyes and ears inside the ministry, even though a coalition partner is in control. This is a powerful way to “keep tabs on partners” (Thies, 2001) while holding the coalition together.

The role of junior ministers in the monitoring of coalition partners is a topic explored in parliamentary regimes, but not in the presidential setting where the president is the one at the top of the hierarchy. To analyze the presidents’ appointment strategies we focus in Brazil as a case study in the period from 1995 to 2010, exploring the partnering between ministers and junior ministers. We consider a junior minister a watchdog when the junior minister is not aligned to the minister. This may happen when the president appoints a junior minister from a different party or when the junior minister is a career bureaucrat. In these situations we expect the junior minister to be loyal to the president and to report on the ministers’ doings.

Figure 1 shows that presidents have the options of appointing 1) ministers from their party (PP), 2) from a coalition partner (CP), or 3) non-partisan ministers (NP). Non-partisan ministers are aligned with the president’s preferences by definition. However, partisan ministers have policy preferences of their own that may jeopardize the president’s agenda. For this reason, these are the ones that the president considers to monitor. Figure 1 shows that partisan ministers are monitored with the appointment of junior ministers. However, ministers from the other coalition parties are monitored more frequently.

Figure 1: Portfolio Allocation and Monitoring Through Junior Ministers, 1995–2010

Considering that appointing a watchdog is a direct control over the minister, the president will not implement this strategy indiscriminately as shown above. We expect that watchdogs will be used only when the costs of the delegation are high. We argue that these costs may be captured by three variables: ideological distance as a proxy for preference distance, portfolio salience, and the coalescence rate as a proxy for the degree of the coalition agreement.

We expected that the greater the ideological distance, the greater the probability of appointing a watchdog because ideological distance would represent preference divergence between the president and the minister. Knowing that the minister is not to be trusted, the president would appoint a hostile junior minister to keep control from the inside. Also, we expected that the most important ministries would be monitored closely with the appointment of watchdogs because the stakes are high. So, the greater the portfolio salience, the greater the probability of a watchdog. Lastly, we expected that the greater the coalescence rate, the smaller the probability of a watchdog because the coalescence would be a measure of the degree of the coalition agreement. This is especially important in presidential systems because there is evidence that coalitions reach some very different arrangements regarding the distribution of portfolios and the amount of power coalition partners will have in government (Amorim Neto, 2006). We expected that the greater this agreement, the smaller the incentives for coalition monitoring.

The results indicate that only ideological distance is important to explain the appointment of a watchdog junior minister, indicating that when policy preferences between the president and the minister are not aligned, the president will try to minimize agency losses and risks of policy drift by appointing a trusted junior minister. Figure 2 shows this relationship.

Figure 2: Predicted Probability Logistic Regression (with Controls): Ideological Distance (95 percent CIs

For a minister from the president’s party (an ideological distance of 0), the predicted probability of a watchdog junior minister to be appointed is 0.64. The predicted probability increases to 0.81 when the ideological distance between the minister and the president is 2, and to 0.95 when the ideological distance reaches 4.5, the maximum value in our distribution.

Analyzing the president’s monitoring strategies concerning coalition partners in Brazil, our main result is that the greater the ideological distance, the greater the probability of monitoring. Although we specifically investigate the political dilemma that Brazilian presidents have faced deciding how to monitor coalition partners, we hope that the particular results presented could travel well and extend to other multiparty presidential regimes elsewhere. We also expect that this discussion will increase interest in what happens after coalition formation or how coalitions actually govern in presidential systems.

References:

Amorim Neto, Octavio. Presidencialismo e governabilidade nas Américas. FGV Editora, 2006.

Heclo, Hugh. A government of strangers: Executive politics in Washington. Brookings Institution Press, 2011.

Martínez-Gallardo, Cecilia, and Petra Schleiter. “Choosing whom to trust: Agency risks and cabinet partisanship in presidential democracies.” Comparative Political Studies 48.2 (2015): 231-264.

Thies, Michael F. “Keeping tabs on partners: The logic of delegation in coalition governments.” American Journal of Political Science (2001): 580-598.

Matthew Laing and Brendan McCaffrie – The Impossible Leadership Situation: Succeeding as a President of Disjunction

This is a guest post by Matthew Laing of Monash University and Brendan McCaffrie of the University of Canberra. It is based on their recent article in Presidential Studies Quarterly.

American Presidents are often ranked and compared, with a handful of Presidents regularly judged as “great” (eg George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and sometimes Ronald Reagan). However, a wealth of political scholarship now acknowledges that different US Presidents are granted different circumstances that both demand different actions, and grant different opportunities. While these presidents’ greatness does result from their successful actions, it also reflects their circumstances. This blog post, and the article it is based on [1], argues that it is more useful to examine presidents who share a similar political and historical context, and to examine their success in a way that is sensitive to the opportunities and constraints of that context. Furthermore, this allows us to avoid encouraging presidents to follow the expansive styles of these “great” presidents in situations where such actions may be detrimental [2].

This research uses the political time approach to the presidency, developed by Stephen Skowronek [3]. The political time approach defines four types of president, based on their political and historical context. In this research, we examine what success is for Skowronek’s most constrained category of president: the president of disjunction, whose situation Skowronek described as “the impossible leadership situation”. These presidents (John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan, Herbert Hoover, and Jimmy Carter) are typically beset by national problems for which the orthodox political and policy thinking has no solutions. Our research argues that while some aspects of success are not available to these presidents, they can succeed by fulfilling a normative need to experiment and find new approaches to solve these problems.

Political Time and Disjunction

Skowronek describes four types of president, defined by their distinct historical contexts and opportunities. Presidents of disjunction take office when the “regime” that has dominated American politics over previous decades is weak. The regime is composed of three main parts, (i) ideas that define political action over a number of decades, such as the ideas of Keynesian economics that defined post-New Deal America, (ii) a coalition of political and societal actors, particularly those in Congress, and interests that together represent a broad range of societal groups such as organised Labor, organisations, business groups, and other elements of civil society, and (iii) institutions of government that act to maintain the regime’s direction. For a president of disjunction, the regime’s weakness is evident in these three characteristics, but especially in the first two: the dominant ideas are failing to solve current problems, but they owe their election to the coalition of politicians and societal actors that have supported those ideas. That coalition is weakening and fracturing as new problems emerge that affect different elements of the coalition in different ways.

These presidents have limited authority to act, as the failure of orthodox ideas divides their coalition of supporters. Disjunctive presidents’ best efforts to solve the nation’s problems often depart from orthodox ideas, upsetting coalition members who have maintained faith in those ideas. Alternatively, these presidents maintain orthodox ideas, upsetting those who no longer believe that orthodox ideas can work in the present circumstances.

Presidents of disjunction usually are publicly perceived as failures, and are replaced by reconstructive presidents such as Franklin D. Roosevelt, who followed the disjunctive Hoover, and instituted the New Deal, and the Keynesian economics that dominated American politics for decades, and Reagan, who followed Jimmy Carter, and whose small government and pro-free market politics endured as Roosevelt’s politics had before. Despite perceptions of their failure, in many ways the presidents of disjunction play an important role within the course of political time, and if they play it effectively they can smooth the transition to the next regime.

Presidential Success and Context

Normative Success

For presidents, success comes in three main forms – normative success, personal success, and partisan regime success. The contention that presidents of disjunction have an important role to play implies that there is a normative aspect to success for presidents, that is, there is a best role for them to play in order to advance the nation. We contend that the most important aspect of the normative role for presidents of disjunction is policy experimentation. When orthodox ideas and policies no longer work, as with the economic situation Hoover faced in the Great Depression, or the stagflation crisis Carter contended with, these presidents face great uncertainty, and need to work pragmatically to discover new policy avenues. Normative success also encompasses the need to maintain the constitution and uphold the ethical requirements of the office.

To differing degrees, both Carter and Hoover experimented with new economic approaches designed to reverse the crises that they faced. Hoover’s creation of the Reconstruction Finance Corporation (RFC) in 1932 was a clear example of how experimentation during disjunction can help the subsequent reconstruction. The RFC made major loans to states, municipalities, and corporations and provided an injection of much needed funds to the failing economy. Hoover attempted a middle-of-the-road approach between orthodoxy and innovation of the type Roosevelt would later pursue. He limited the RFC’s operations, for example, insisting that its funds be for self-liquidating projects. As a result, in 1932 the RFC was not as effective as it might have been as an institution for stimulating the economy. But, Hoover expanded its authority in his last days in office in January 1933 and in its early years it provided much-needed capital to troubled economic sectors. Roosevelt further expanded the RFC, giving it greater funding and a wider scope to issue loans, and it became a key institution of the New Deal. Similar patterns could be observed in Hoover’s creation of, and Roosevelt’s extension of, a range of other measures aimed at defeating the Great Depression. For example, the Relief and Construction Act, Federal Farm Board, and Agricultural Marketing Act all became pillars of the New Deal’s approach to agriculture.

Similarly, Carter displayed greater awareness of the danger of inflation than most Democrats in Congress. In his last two years, he clearly prioritized inflation over unemployment. He felt he was acting pragmatically, and publicly admitted that his administration was trying several anti-inflation measures with no certainty that any would work. Carter’s anti-inflation program emphasized wage restraint to aggressively tackle inflationary pressures, but was hindered by a lack of support from organized labor. Unable to authoritatively suppress wage inflation without further fracturing its coalition, the Carter administration pursued an accord with unions over wages. Although novel, its measures were regularly subverted or ineffective. This situation underscores the conflict between the normative requirement to experiment and its tendency to hasten the demise of the coalition.

Perhaps Carter’s boldest experiment was the appointment of Paul Volcker as chair of the Federal Reserve in 1979. Carter pursued the appointment despite counsel from close advisors that Volcker’s doctrinaire anti-inflation plan would undoubtedly cause a rise in unemployment and seriously jeopardize Carter’s chances of re-election. Volcker’s actions began to ease the stagflation crisis and began the reform and strengthening of the Federal Reserve’s role in the U.S. economy, advancing the monetarist policy agenda without requiring legislative backing. However, this anti-inflationary shift did accelerate Carter’s political demise.

Personal Success

Conversely, presidents of disjunction will likely not receive credit for their successes during their terms. With a divided coalition and an increasingly emboldened opposition, they face a major contest to have each of their actions judged as personally successful by media and the public. Presidents of disjunction are also presented with a trade-off. Actions that fulfil the normative requirement that they experiment with new policy directions are also likely to exacerbate the divisions within the coalition, and end the dominance of the ideas that the coalition has supported.

Furthermore, given the uncertainty of the outcomes of experimental policies, these may fail. Those that do succeed are often seized upon and expanded by a reconstructive successor, who typically receives the popular credit for the new approach. As such disjunctive presidents are rarely credited with great personal success, even though they may have extensive legislative achievements. In fact, both Hoover and Carter compiled impressive lists of legislative achievements, far out-stripping perceptions of their effectiveness. Hoover especially found himself unfairly criticised for adhering to laissez-faire economic practices in the face of the Great Depression, despite many major departures from orthodox economic policy.

Partisan Regime Success

Partisan regime success refers to how presidents interact with the regime, either strengthening or weakening it to situate their parties and ideological coalitions for future achievement. Such success is harder to observe than personal success, but can be more enduring. It usually leads to future success for the president’s party, but as presidents’ actions influence the strength and longevity of the regime, it also has a considerable effect beyond the party and on the nation’s future. Depending on their agreement with, or opposition to, the regime, presidents must advance and update, or attack and discredit regime ideas and institutions, as well as strengthening or weakening the coalition that supports them.

This form of success is very limited for presidents of disjunction. The regime is collapsing during their tenure and this creates societal disruption. As leaders affiliated with the regime, they often have an ideological preference to see it endure, but cannot ensure its survival. However, presidential action is not meaningless within this arena, and the way presidents respond to the crisis of their partisan regime can affect the timeline of the affiliated party’s decline and recovery.

Partisan regime success offers an internal contradiction for presidents of disjunction. By defending the regime, and retaining orthodox approaches to national problems, disjunctive presidents may maintain party authority in the short term. However, they risk marginalizing their party even further as regime ideas are sidelined, exacerbating the severity of electoral defeat and the length of recovery. More experimental presidents are better placed to prepare their partisan coalition for change and prepare the nation for the process of reconstruction, but risk their own authority in the process as regime adherents revolt. The better strategy may in part be dictated by the strength of competing factions and groupings within the coalition. However, there is also an opportunity for presidents to persuade their coalitions of different approaches, acclimatize their coalitions to new ideas, and better position them to adopt a role within the future regime, rather than leaving them entirely outside that regime.

The Three Forms of Success

These three forms are interrelated, but the way they interact varies for the different types of president. For a reconstructive president, each can be mutually reinforcing. These presidents take power at a time when there is general consensus that major change is required, as a result, reconstructive presidents can press for sweeping reforms that act to bolster perceptions of their personal success, while satisfying their newly formed coalitions, and fulfilling a normative need for action. For presidents of disjunction, choosing to pursue either personal or partisan regime success may lead to normative failure; but normative success can also hasten the demise of the regime, and diminish presidents’ personal authority, making personal success less available. We argue that the normative need to experiment offers the opportunity for most success, but that the chances of a disjunctive president receiving personal credit for their achievements are small.

Conclusion

Understanding presidential success differently in different contexts is important not only for analytical purposes. All presidents wish to be considered successful, so public expectations can influence presidential actions. If we judge all presidents by standards appropriate to reconstructive presidents, we encourage them to act in a way that will frequently contribute to their failure and, in doing so, contribute to the popular conception of a heroic presidency, which is near impossible for most presidents to meet. Presidents of disjunction are part of the essential fabric of political time, and in better understanding the ways in which they can succeed, we are engaging in a project that is essential to our understanding of presidents’ capacity to further the public good. Among the greatest challenges this understanding of the presidency presents is the need for presidents to discern their place in political time, and accept that in certain situations they must follow a more constrained path, and limit the scope of their ambitions.

Notes

[1] Matthew Laing and Brendan McCaffrie (2017) ‘The Impossible Leadership Situation? Analyzing Success for Disjunctive Presidents’, Presidential Studies Quarterly, 47 (2): 255-276.

[2] David A. Crockett (2002) The Opposition Presidency, College Station: Texas A&M University Press.

[3] Stephen Skowronek (1997) The Politics Presidents Make, Cambridge Mass: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press.

South Korea – The President Wages War to Increase Wages

President Moon Jae-in pledged to “yield the president’s imperial power to the people” when he took office on May 10, 2017, and the first 130 days suggests that the President is making good on his word. In particular, in addition to appointing reformists, critics, and former civil-activists to executive offices, the President has taken by the horns two onerous issues: tax increase and wage increase. Specifically, to fund the President’s initiatives on job creation and wage increases, the President will seek to increase taxes on conglomerates as well as high-income earners. The tax hike will need to pass the National Assembly, where the ruling Democratic Party has only 120 of the 299 total seats. Still, at a time of growing income inequalities, job insecurity, stagnant wages, and loss in political and economic confidences, the President’s “paradigm shift” to push for economic growth through wage increases that will increase consumption, rather than rely on labor reforms such as the wage-peak system advocated by previous conservative-governments that aimed at increasing recruitment, has seen his approval ratings remain at peaks of 80 percent and more. Perhaps what is more notable about President Moon’s initiatives is the transparent, open-discussion of their complementarity and necessity. That may be the distinguishing, all-important step towards a successful policy.

Clearly, President Moon is not the first president to come into office promising equity and support for workers: his disgraced predecessor, the impeached President Park Geun-hye, championed economic democratization following her successful 2012 election that was subsequently diluted to a 474 vision (4 percent GDP growth, 70 percent employment and $40,000 per capita income); before President Park, President Lee Myung-bak’s administration pushed for the 747 goal (7 percent economic growth, $40,000 per capita income and becoming the world’s seventh-largest economy).

But, unlike these predecessors, President Moon has followed through on his plans. The Minimum Wage Commission has announced the 16 percent wage rise to 7,530 won ($6.60) per hour from 2018. To ensure that small and medium-sized enterprises are able to meet the new wage increases, as well as to fund the new wage increases and job creation policies, the President has called for new taxes. Indeed, the President has distinguished himself even from political contemporaries in calling for the tax hikes: by way of contrast, the Liberty Korea Party (formerly Saneuri Party) called the President’s policy a “dreadful tax bomb” while the People’s Party and the Bareun Party – both of which had agreed on the necessity of tax hikes – criticized the government’s plans for the hike.

This departure is significant: across the globe, austerity economics where incumbents or opposition seek to tighten wasteful spending while pledging to control big business has lost credibility with large swaths of the electorate. In South Korea, surveys conducted by Gallup Korea estimated the number of undecided voters at 27 percent in the last election, and that was an increase by six percent from December 2015. Clearly, there is a growing “party”-apathy among voters. This is not synonymous with political apathy: events such as the strong candlelight protest rallies that fueled the former President Park’s impeachment show public passion and involvement. What party-apathy signifies is the lack of outlets for that passion and involvement in the form of issues and platforms of the political parties. President Moon’s initiatives – or, more precisely, his departures from standard party stances – may be the antidote to party-apathy that will ignite political passion and, correspondingly, policy success.

Germany – Honorary pay and post-presidency perks: How to deal with former presidents

Recent news reports that former German president Christian Wulff had taken up the role of authorised representative of Turkish fashion label Yargici have rekindled a ‘smouldering’ debate about the role and entitlements of former presidents in Germany. The flames of this discussion, last hotly conducted following Wullf’s resignation amidst corruption allegations and attempts to suppress related news reports, have been fanned further by criticism of the new offices for former president Joachim Gauck, Wulff’s successor. Although the upcoming general election has meant that the topic received comparatively less attention, it is bound to return in the next years and changes to ex-presidents’ status are likely.

Living German ex-Presidents | image via bundespraesident.de

For a long time, post-political careers of German politicians were not a widely debated issue. Cabinet ministers often remained members of the Bundestag after serving in government and usually retired from politics – and work life – in their 60s and 70s. Chancellors usually left office at a similar age and refrained from controversial activities (the work of ex-Chancellor Gerhard Schröder (1998-2005) as lobbyist for Russian companies is a notable exception). Federal presidents on the other hand were usually already in their mid-sixties or older when taking office and had thus little opportunity to develop a new career after leaving office. This trend is mirrored in a number of other parliamentary republics, although it is not uncommon for younger former office-holders to re-enter politics (e.g. Latvian president Valdis Zatlers founded his own party and entered parliament as an MP after being denied re-election as president).

From the point of taking office, German presidents are entitled to an “honorary pay” of €236,000 p.a. for life, so that – as is commonly argued – former presidents do not need to pursue any other employment upon leaving office. Particularly the resignation of Christian Wulff after less than two years in office and aged only 53 has opened a number questions in this regard – For instance: Is a president entitled to honorary pay if they do not complete their term of office? And who is responsible for deciding about a president’s claim to honorary pay? While Wulff continued to receive his honorary pay after leaving office prematurely and the above questions remain unresolved, politicians agreed on ensuring that at least the ex-presidents’ offices – an important post-presidency perk – were run on a more cost-effective basis. Both Christian Wulff and his successor Joachim Gauck have thus not opened their offices in their former hometowns or pricey parts of Berlin, but in buildings belonging to the Bundestag (although this, too, remains controversial – see below). Furthermore, their number of staff is limited en par with offices for former chancellors.

Since Christian Wulff was cleared of corruption allegations in 2014, the majority of political commentators have quietly accepted the fact that Christian Wulff continues to receive honorary pay – also because he represented Germany at a number of occasions (former presidents frequently step in for their successors or chancellors at state funerals) and kept a relatively low public profile. Wulff, a trained lawyer, also opened a legal practice in his home town of Hanover – a move likewise regarded as largely uncontroversial as he returned to his original profession. Nevertheless, the move to become an authorised representative and thus not merely an advisor but active part of a business has changed perceptions of what might be an acceptable post-office career for a former president. Furthermore, politicians and citizens alike have been irritated by the fact that honorary pay is not reduced as a reflection of addition earnings – entitlements from state pensions on the other hand are counted against any honorary pay after reaching retirement age.

Yet Christian Wulff is not the only former president who has recently been criticised over expenditure. As mentioned above, former presidents are entitled to a fully staffed office upon leaving the office to be able to fulfil the role of ‘elder statesman’. Joachim Gauck left office earlier this year and his office has now been opened in the buildings of the Bundestag. Nevertheless, Gauck incurred charges for installing additional security on his floor (despite the building already being under the same protective measures as other parliamentary buildings) and a personal toilet with security lock for the president (costing €52,000) as well as €35,000 for new furniture. In addition, two of Gaucks members of staff have effectively received promotions and Gauck chief of cabinet in particular now earns more than he did when Gauck was still in office.

The only other living president, Horst Köhler, presents an interesting counter-example to his successors: Although Köhler claims an allowance for his office in an upscale office park in Berlin, he has refrained from claiming any honorary pay since leaving office. However, this is can hardly be an example to follow – as a former director of the International Monetary Fond (IMF), Köhler likely has a private pension that would far exceed a former president’s honorary pay.

Thus overall the question remains on how to deal with former presidents. It is clear that the traditional model predicated on the idea that the presidency is the crowning and final achievement of one’s life is – thanks to the election of younger candidates and longer life expectancy of former presidents – no longer practical. Furthermore, as the additional earnings of active politicians come under greater scrutiny it becomes even more difficult to justify expenditures for former holders of a largely representative office to the public. The next Bundestag would be in an interesting position to regulate on these questions as it is not involved in the next presidential election and parties can thus debate the issue with greater flexibility. However, viable proposals for change are still lacking as the most concrete suggestions stem from the discussions about Christian Wulff and would thus only regulate some very specific aspects of this complicated matter.

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For follow-up reading, you may be interested in my comparison of European presidents’ salaries:
Presidents and Paupers I: How much do Western European presidents earn?
Presidents and Paupers II: How much do Central and East European presidents earn?

 

Poland – How will President Duda’s judicial reform vetoes affect Polish politics?

This is a guest post by Aleks Szczerbiak, Professor of Politics and Contemporary European Studies at the University of Sussex. An earlier version appeared on his blog.

Aleks Szczerbiak

Earlier this summer Poland’s President shook up the political scene when he vetoed two of the right-wing government’s flagship judicial reform bills, which had triggered one of the country’s sharpest political conflicts in recent years. By carving out an alternative power centre within the governing camp it gives him an opportunity to re-define his presidency, but having taken ownership of the issue he is now under intense pressure to deliver on judicial reform.

Judicial reform is a government priority

Poland’s ruling right-wing Law and Justice (PiS) party believes that, following the country’s flawed transition to democracy in 1989, the Polish judiciary, like many key institutions, was expropriated by a well-entrenched, and often deeply corrupt, post-communist elite, which went on to co-opt a new legal establishment that perpetuated its legacy. Judicial reform is, therefore, one of the most important elements of the party’s programme. To this end, the government proposed three key bills aimed at overhauling the country’s legal system. The first involved phasing out the terms of 15 of the 25 members of the National Judicial Council (KRS), a body that selects judges and decides how the courts are run, and selecting their successors by parliament rather than the legal profession as has been the case up until now. The government’s original proposal envisaged these new Council members being elected by a simple parliamentary majority, but was amended to three-fifths following pressure from Law and Justice-backed President Andrzej Duda, a move which would have forced the ruling party to negotiate the appointments with opposition and independent deputies.

A second bill changed the way that the heads of lower district and appeal courts are appointed giving the justice minister broad powers to replace chief judges within six months of the law coming into force; as well as requiring the random allocation of judges to cases in order to tackle what the government argued were corrupt local practices. The third proposed a new procedure for nominating Supreme Court judges requiring all of its current members to retire except for those re-instated by the President but only from a list presented to him by the justice minister (based on National Justice Council recommendations), with future candidates for appointment to the Court selected in the same way. The bill also envisaged the establishment of a new Supreme Court chamber that would make judgements on disciplinary actions against judges, following referrals by the justice minister.

Drifting towards authoritarianism or reforming an entrenched elite?

However, these reforms triggered one of the country’s sharpest political conflicts in recent years. Most of the legal establishment and the opposition – led by the centrist Civic Platform (PO), Poland’s governing party between 2007-15, and smaller liberal Modern (Nowoczesna) grouping and agrarian Polish Peasant Party (PSL) – strongly criticised the legislation arguing that it undermined the independence of the courts and constitutional separation of powers. Warning of a drift towards authoritarian rule, the government’s opponents said that, by putting judicial appointments under political control, these reforms would allow Law and Justice to pack the courts with its own, hand-picked nominees; pointing out that the Supreme Court rules on the validity of national election and referendum results. As a consequence, thousands of Poles protested against the reforms in street demonstrations and candle-lit vigils held in dozens of towns and cities.

The reforms were also heavily criticised by the EU political establishment and Western opinion-forming media, with whom the opposition enjoys close links and many of whom share their dislike of Law and Justice. The European Commission has been involved in a separate, ongoing dispute with the Polish government since January 2016 over the membership and functioning of the country’s constitutional tribunal. As the judicial reform crisis escalated, the Commission appeared to move closer towards taking further action against Poland under the so-called Article 7 procedure, which it can invoke against EU member states where it feels there is a ‘systemic threat’ to democracy and the rule of law. Moreover, in spite of the fact that the US Trump administration is a seen as one of the Polish government’s key international allies, the American State Department also raised concerns about the reforms.

The government’s supporters, on the other hand, said that the reforms were needed to make the judiciary more accountable and ensure that it served all Poles and not just the elites, arguing that Polish courts were too slow, unfair and tolerated frequent irregularities and corrupt practices. The judicial elite, they said, viewed itself as a superior ‘special caste’ out of touch with ordinary citizens, and operated as a ‘state within a state’ incapable of reforming itself. In these circumstances, allowing elected political bodies a greater say in the functioning of the courts, and the appointment of judges and their supervisory bodies, was justified. Moreover, they argued, the reforms did not necessarily impinge upon judicial impartiality as they simply brought Poland more into line with appointment practices in other established Western democracies.

Mr Duda’s shock move

However, in a dramatic and surprising move at the end of the July Mr Duda announced that he would veto the National Judicial Council and Supreme Court bills, while ratifying the law on the lower courts. In fact, from the outset of his presidency Mr Duda has struggled to carve out an independent role for himself and the vetoes were partly the culmination of tensions between the government and a President who was tired of being side-lined. Up until now, Mr Duda has been dismissed by the government’s critics as Law and Justice’s ‘notary’, having (publicly at least) supported virtually all of its key decisions, even the most controversial ones, such as its actions during the bitter and polarising constitutional tribunal dispute.

Announcing his decision, Mr Duda expressed regret that the Supreme Court bill had not been consulted more extensively before it was put to a parliamentary vote and justified his veto on the grounds that the proposed reforms vested too much potential influence over the Court’s operational and personnel decisions in the hands of the justice minister, who in Poland also functions as the chief public prosecutor. Moreover, his condition for approving the National Judicial Council bill, that its parliamentary appointees be elected by a three-fifths majority, was actually introduced as an amendment to the Supreme Court bill, so once he vetoed the latter it was difficult for him to approve the former.

Mr Duda is also aware that in order to secure re-election in 2020 he will need to appeal beyond the Law and Justice hard core and consolidate his support in the political centre. While the majority of Poles are dissatisfied with the way that the courts function, the ruling party was not able to win public support for these particular reforms, with polls suggesting that there was widespread backing for the presidential vetoes. Moreover, Mr Duda may have been influenced by the fact that the anti-government demonstrations appeared to mobilise a more diverse cross-section of the public than earlier protests, notably among young people. Indeed, the most effective opposition seemed to be organised by relatively new grassroots movements, such as the on-line ‘Democracy Action’ (AD) platform, which kept overtly party political slogans and leaders out of the limelight; although several government supporters argue that some of these were actually examples of ‘astroturfing’: orchestrated campaigns designed to look like spontaneous civic actions.

An alternative power centre in the governing camp

When announcing the vetoes, Mr Duda insisted that he supported the government’s broader objective of radically reforming the judiciary and promised to bring forward revised legislation within two months. There was some support for the President within the governing camp, notably those politicians clustered around the ‘Poland Together’ (PR) party led by deputy prime minister Jarosław Gowin, one of Law and Justice’s junior partners in the ‘United Right’ (ZL) electoral coalition. However, the vetoes were generally met with bitter disappointment within the governing camp and viewed as an act of betrayal by some of its leaders, especially those close to justice minister Zbigniew Ziobro, who is also leader of the small ‘Solidaristic Poland’ (SP) party, another Law and Justice ally.

More broadly, Mr Duda’s vetoes have introduced a new and unpredictable element into Polish politics, exposing divisions within, and undermining the cohesiveness of, the governing camp. They have shown that the President no longer considers himself to be dependent upon Law and Justice leader Jarosław Kaczyński who, although he does not hold any formal state positions, has exercised a powerful behind-the-scenes influence in determining the government’s programmatic and strategic priorities. Mr Kaczyński now has to deal with the emergence of an alternative power centre within the governing camp that he will have to negotiate with in order to secure the passage of the government’s legislative programme. Although presidential vetoes can be overturned by a three-fifths majority, this is larger than the number of parliamentary votes that Law and Justice can muster. Mr Kaczyński values political loyalty above all else but he also knows that a further escalation of the conflict with the President would be suicidal for the ruling party and that he has to work with him to keep the Law and Justice project on track.

At the same time, the opposition parties feel emboldened they were able to secure at least a partial victory and vindicated in their strategy of exerting pressure on the government through a combination of street protests and international influence (in Polish: ‘ulica i zagranica’). However, the reason that the street protests made such an impact was precisely because they appeared to be largely non-partisan, which made it difficult for the government to dismiss them as simply representing the old ruling elites. Indeed, many of those involved appeared to have little time for the current opposition leaders, who face the same problem that they did before the judicial crisis began: their inability to present an attractive alternative to Law and Justice on the social and economic issues that most voters regard as their priority. For this reason, opinion polls suggest that the crisis has not changed voting preferences with Law and Justice still comfortably ahead of the opposition.

For its part, the European Commission has shown no intention of letting up in spite of the presidential vetoes: issuing a new set of recommendations relating to the judicial reforms which, they argue, increase the systemic threat to the rule of law; and saying that it is ready to trigger Article 7 immediately if any Supreme Court judge is dismissed. However, Law and Justice has ignored previous Commission recommendations, saying that they represent political interference in Polish domestic affairs, and unanimity is required in the European Council to trigger sanctions with the Hungarian government, for one, making it clear that it will oppose such moves. In a separate action, the Commission has, therefore, launched an infringement procedure against Poland for alleged breach of EU law, arguing that the common courts law gives the justice minister too much influence on whether or not to prolong judges’ mandates and is discriminatory because it introduces separate retirement ages for men and women. This may eventually result in financial penalties being imposed on Poland but will have to be resolved in the European Court of Justice so could drag on for some time.

Under pressure to deliver

By demonstrating that he can act independently, Mr Duda’s vetoes of the government’s flagship bills reforming Poland’s legal system give him an opportunity to completely re-define his presidency. However, having taken ownership of the judicial reform issue he will now be under intense pressure to deliver. If he does not produce what the government would consider to be meaningful reforms this could alienate his right-wing political base, without necessarily expanding his support in the political centre. But while Mr Duda has drawn some short-term praise from Law and Justice’s opponents, they will quickly revert back to attacking him, especially if he ends up proposing a judicial reform package very similar to the government’s original proposals.