Category Archives: Europe

New publications

Special Issue, Leaders, Crisis Behavior, and International Conflict, Journal of Conflict Resolution, Volume 62 Issue 10, November 2018.

Demokratizatsiya: The Journal of Post-Soviet Democratization, Armenia’s Velvet Revolution: A Special Issue, Volume 26, Number 4, Fall 2018.

Kaitlen J. Cassell, John A. Booth, and Mitchell A. Seligson, ‘Support for Coups in the Americas: Mass Norms and Democratization’, Latin American, Politics and Society, Volume 60, Number 4, pp. 1-25.

Hamid Akin Unver, ‘The fog of leadership: How Turkish and Russian presidents manage information constraints and uncertainty in crisis decision-making’, Southeast European and Black Sea Studies, 18:3, 325-344, 2018, DOI: 10.1080/14683857.2018.1510207

Trump – Causes and Consequences, series of articles in Perspectives on Politics, available at: https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/perspectives-on-politics/information/trump-causes-and-consequences#

Andrea Schneiker, ‘ Telling the Story of the Superhero and the Anti-Politician as President: Donald Trump’s Branding on Twitter’, Political Studies Review. https://doi.org/10.1177/1478929918807712

Ebenezer Obadare and Adebanwi Wale (eds.). Governance and the crisis of rule in Africa: Leadership in transformation, London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016.

Sergey Aleksashenko, Putin’s Counterrevolution, The Brookings Institution Press, located in Washington, D.C, 2018.

Romania – The President’s ‘Breaking Bad’: When Does Negative Campaigning Work?

President Klaus Iohannis during a visit at a Romanian military base that was a PR success.  Source: digi24.ro

With one year to go until he stands for re-election, Romanian president Klaus Iohannis appears willing to go outside his defining detachment and become a fire – starter in the already tense framework of cohabitation.

The conventional wisdom that negative political campaigning works has been largely dismissed by research results. Scholars found no evidence of its success (see Lau, Sigelman and Rovner, 2007 for a literature review) or even claimed that the choice of negativity is disadvantageous, in contrast to the effects of positive messaging (Malloy and Pearson-Merkowitz , 2016; Claibourn 2012) and in particular for incumbents (Blackwell 2013).  We then continue to ask why candidates and political consultants believe in the effectiveness of attacking opponents. Most research on this topic focused on the US political system, but throughout the next year of presidential campaigning, Romania may provide a novel experimental setting to answer the same question: is political ‘breaking bad’ a good strategy to win presidential elections?

The Mobilizing Effect of Conflict Framing

Most recently, President Iohannis (National Liberal Party – PNL candidate) concerned the EU by declaring that, (mostly) because of the incompetence of the social – democrat led government, Romania is unprepared to take over the EU’s rotating presidency on January 1, 2019 (NY Times reports). A declaration that was intended to win him points in national politics quickly escalated internationally when the Finnish PM, Juha Sipila, declared they are ready to take over earlier should Romania default on its obligations. This prompted the Romanian Minister of Foreign Affairs to issue an official statement denying the presidential claims and ‘stressing the importance of handling with responsibility information that is not founded on concrete endeavours (sic) and which may affect the image of Romania (…)’. Since this exchange, Romanian diplomats in Brussels have to publicly defend the on-going preparations.  Following this statement, the president suffered a backlash from his usual supporters, motivating him to soften his position by stating it was still possible to be reasonably prepared.

Given the usual dispassion of president Iohannis for political conflict coupled with the positive nature of his discourse in the first campaign (2014) and the first 4 years of mandate, his recent preparedness to lash out with negative attacks on the government can provide the counterpoint in a comparative test of what makes successful campaign strategies. Iohannis’s reactions are motivated by the criticism he endures for not being active on the public stage (I previously reported on this blog on the preference of president Iohannis to use formal powers and overlook informal ones). And in spite of the apparent uselessness of negative discourse, in the absence of a constructive policy agenda and constraining tools, there is one important effect of conflict framing and negativity that can be relied on for electoral success in the Romanian context.

Research results found (conditioned!) effects of negativity on increasing voter turnout. Krupnikov (2012) showed that negativity increases the likelihood that an individual will make a candidate selection. And conflict framing in campaign news mobilized voters to vote even in the less electorally engaging European Parliament elections (Schuck, Vliegenthart and DeVreese, 2014). This factor becomes increasingly important given that voter mobilisation is a substantial concern for presidential candidates in Romania and usually tilts the balance between winners and losers.

Framing the Presidential Run

Conflict framing has been at the base of Romanian elections since the early 1990s (see Anghel 2017 for a review of Romanian ‘anti-’ campaigns). In this broad agenda type of political contests, technical superiority, emotional voting and political calculations have a substantial importance. The position of a non – Social – Democrat Party (PSD) presidential candidate is naturally advantageous. Opposition parties can compensate their organisational weaknesses by unifying non-PSD voters, while the PSD is stuck at approx. 20% in voter preference.  A constant dwindling of turnout to less than 50% has secured PSD (partial) legislative victories, since their approx. 20% supporters also show up at the polls. The higher turnout in presidential elections has failed to deliver the PSD a victory in the past three runs (15 years).

Consequently, the effect of predominant conflict framing may be a mobilizing factor once again and increase the chances of president Iohannis for re-election. But this is highly context-dependent and not all researchers agree that the effect of negative campaigning is substantial on voter turnout (Garramone et al. 2009). It therefore may not be worth pursuing this strategy alone, as it can easily backfire. Other studies show that negative political campaigning evokes negative affect toward both the targeted opponent and the sponsor (e.g. Merritt 2013).

Increasingly aware of his electoral weaknesses, Iohannis also made an appearance at the yearly PNL Congress (August 4, 2018), showing his support for the PNL leadership and program and lobbying for their organisational support in the elections.  Having political proxies (or lobby groups) to deliver negative messages for the candidate is also better than when the candidate delivers them. According to Dowling and Wichowsky (AJPS, 2014), “candidates can benefit from having a party or group ‘do their dirty work’”.  However, the current relation of PNL with the president is jaded and many strong local party leaders lack the incentives to engage in the hard presidential elections for another win for Iohannis, who has not collaborated with them in the last four years.

Conclusion: ‘Breaking bad’ badly is…not good

For a political attack to work, it must raise a credible issue. This is not difficult for the incumbent president, as the PSD led government has gone through a series of unpopular controversies related to justice system reforms. Yet the decision to ‘go negative’ to benefit from increased voter turnout appears counterproductive on all other accounts or, at best, difficult to manage. Should president Iohannis decide to continue on this path, the 2019 elections will provide the conditions for a comparative within case study of presidential political campaign strategies.

Historic presidencies and their legacies – Weimar Germany and the German Democratic Republic

No other date in modern Germany is as laden with significance as 9th November. While two events from the darkest chapters of German history – Hitler’s unsuccessful ‘beer hall putsch’ in 1923 and the Reichspogromnacht (often called ‘the night of broken glass’) in 1938 – took place on this date, the day is also associated with the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989 and the proclamation of the first Republic in 1918. In this blog post, I take the recent anniversary of the latter two as the occasion to look more closely at the presidencies of the Weimar Republic and the German Democratic Republic. Political scientists are largely aware of the (powerful) Weimar presidency, not least due to the fact that Maurice Duverger included it as an example of semi-presidentialism in his seminal book and article. However, the fact that the German Democratic Republic likewise had a single-person presidency for the first eleven years of its existence is relatively unknown.

Weimar Republic (1919-1934): The president as an ‘Ersatzkaiser’

The first German president Friedrich Ebert in 1925 / (c) Bundesarchiv

The presidency of the Weimar Republic was the first instance of a non-hereditary head of state in Germany. Thus, the discussions in the constitutional convention focussed among others on the French experience, although it was rather seen as a warning against concentrating too much power in the presidency than genuine inspiration, and other republics. Nevertheless, the convention eventually decided against a collegiate head of state and created a comparatively powerful single-person presidency. In hindsight, it was often seen as too strong and was therefore labelled ‘Ersatzkaiser’ – ‘substitute emperor’. Nevertheless, not all relevant powers are necessarily captured by contemporary approaches to measure presidential power. The president appointed the Reichskanzler (chancellor) and the cabinet ministers, yet these had to step down if the Reichstag (parliament) passed a vote of no-confidence. The constitution clearly gave the chancellor the right to determine the general direction in policy-making, yet presidents also claimed such a right for themselves, especially in foreign and defence policy. The president had no formal veto power (interestingly, the possibility of a particular type of pocket veto existed even then) but could put a bill to a referendum. The president could also dissolve the parliament at any time; however, at least officially this was only possible once for the same reason. Last, the president was able to force individual states to meet their obligations to the federation – even with military force. Shugart and Carey (1992) give the Weimar president an overall score of 16, largely driven by his prerogatives in government formation and dismissal and parliamentary dissolution, which is more than the current Russian presidency (14) but less than the Belarussian one (19).

Package veto Partial veto Decree Excl. intro. Legislation Budgetary powers Referenda TOTAL Cabinet formation Cabinet dismissal Censure Dissolution TOTAL
0 0 2 0 0 2 4 4 4 0 4 12

The election of the presidency contained a number of additional notable quirks. The first president Friedrich Ebert (Social Democrats) was still elected by the constitutional convention for a seven year term; the following two contests were held by popular vote. Thereby, a candidate needed to win an absolute majority in the first round of voting or, failing that, a relative majority in the second round. The second round was however not a run-off – any candidates from the first round could run again and even new candidates could be proposed. In fact, the second president, Paul von Hindenburg, did not compete in the first round of the 1925 election but was only a nominated by the national-conservative ‘Reichsblock’ after its initial candidate was considered not to be sufficiently appealing to beat out a popular opponent. Contrary to most modern semi-presidential systems, the Reichstag also had the right to initiate a recall referendum to dispose of the president (requiring an absolute 2/3 majority of deputies). However, if the recall failed, the Reichstag was to be dissolved and the president considered elected for another seven year-term.

The presidency of the GDR

Portrait of GDR president Wilhelm Pieck on a wallhanging commemorating 10 years of the GDR / (c) LEMO

In October 1949, a little less than five months after the establishment of the (West) German Federal Republic, the German Democratic Republic was founded and enacted a new parliamentary constitution that had already been drafted a year earlier. The GDR was a real-socialist people’s republic and thus naturally not a democracy. However, looking at its institutional structure is nonetheless interesting as it diverges from other countries of the Eastern bloc. In particular, until 1960 it was organised as an archetypical parliamentary democracy and surprisingly similar to its new West German counterpart. The president was elected indirectly by the Volkskammer (people’s chamber – lower house) and the Länder Chamber (states’ chamber – upper house) for a four year-term. Only a relative majority was necessary to elect the president, yet an absolute 2/3 majority in both chambers was needed to recall the president. The president appointed members of the government, yet the constitution stipulated that the largest party group in the lower house nominated the minister-president (prime minister), that each party group of at least 40 MPs was part of the government, and that parliament confirmed the government before it took office. The president had no right to veto legislation; however, he was allowed to voice concerns over the constitutionality of acts and ask the lower chamber’s constitutional commission to investigate these concerns. The president could also not dissolve parliament – the constitution only allowed for self-dissolution (or automatic dissolution in case parliament passed a vote of no-confidence in a new government). The fact that all acts of the president required the countersignature of the prime minister or the respective cabinet minister furthermore highlights the presidency’s subordinate position. Thus, when we apply Shugart and Carey’s (1992) scheme to measure presidential power, we only arrive at a score of just 1 (thanks to the stipulation on a constructive vote of no-confidence).

Package veto Partial veto Decree Excl. intro. Legislation Budgetary powers Referenda TOTAL Cabinet formation Cabinet dismissal Censure Dissolution TOTAL
0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 1

The legacy of historic presidencies

After the death of Paul von Hindenburg in 1934, Adolf Hitler as Reichskanzler became acting chancellor and merged the functions of chancellor and president – a move confirmed shortly after in an only moderately democratic referendum. The office was only revived for three weeks when Karl Dönitz took over the office after Hitler’s suicide until the German surrender and then ceased to exist. In the GDR, the office of president was similarly abolished with the death of its officeholder – after Wilhelm Pieck, who had held the position of president since 1949, died in 1960, the presidency was transformed into the ‘Staatsrat’ (State Council). The State Council still had a president who acted as de-facto head of state and head of the executive, but it was legally a collegiate organ. Although there were plans to revive the presidency of the GDR after the fall of the Berlin wall, this never happened due to Germany’s reunification in 1990.

The legacy of the Weimar presidency is much stronger, although it largely served as a negative example. During the West German constitutional convention, delegates quickly agreed that the strong and popularly elected presidency of the Weimar republic had been one of its greatest problems. Consequently, they created a weak, indirectly elected office, and placed responsibility for governance in the hands of the chancellor. Even today, calls for the introduction of popular presidential elections are regularly answered by referring to the Weimar experience and the dangers of populism (as such, arguments often resemble Juan Linz’ ‘Perils of presidentialism’). German presidents are now rarely called upon to provide political (rather than moral) leadership; yet, the Weimar experience and reflections at the constitutional convention continue to influence the way in which incumbents interpret and perform their role as head of state.

Czech Presidential Politics in the Fall of 2018

There are two essential factors which facilitate understanding of the real power of Czech presidents and which make them relatively weak in relation to the government or parliament. First, none of them has managed to create a solid and strong party backing in the parliament.  This holds true also for Miloš Zeman, who has repeatedly attempted (and failed) to form a presidential party.[1] Thus, the October municipal and Senate elections[2] and their results had no specific and direct consequences for President Zeman. Second, the Czech president is endowed with few significant powers. Probably the most important one is the power to appoint the Prime Minister and, on the basis of his proposal, other members of government[3]. Hence, once the second cabinet led by Andrej Babiš had been appointed in July 2018, President Zeman had a much smaller influence on Czech governmental as well as parliamentary politics.

Despite these stable features of the Czech democratic regime, Miloš Zeman has constantly been able to create a stir in the Czech politics, an ability attributed to him both by his supporters and critics. First, even though Babiš’ cabinet was appointed and won a vote of confidence in the Chamber of Deputies, the President kept influencing the cabinet’s composition, blocking Miroslav Poche, the Social Democratic (the junior coalition partner’s) nominee for the position of the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Poche was refused by Zeman, officially because of the former’s positive stance to EU migration quotas. However, there were rumors that other reasons might have played a role in the rejection. For example, Poche supported Zeman’s rival, Jiří Drahoš, in the 2018 presidential contest. In addition, Zeman’s move was a tool to humiliate and weaken the Social Democratic party[4].

Be it as it may, Prime Minister Babiš did not insist on Poche, as he did not want to risk a conflict with President Zeman. As a result, the Social Democrats tacitly gave in and nominated another person – Tomáš Petříček. This was a surprising choice, because Petříček was Poche’s assistant without much political experience. Thus, only after three months, Czech political elites managed to provide a full-time leader for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Until that time, the ČSSD’s leader, and minister of the interior, Jan Hamáček had been in temporary charge.

Second, seeking his own foreign policy, to a large extent independently of the cabinet, President Zeman has made many other politicians uneasy. Zeman kept emphasizing an orientation to the East, notably to Russia and China, promoting “economic diplomacy” over human rights issues (the one-time the flagship of Czech foreign policy). This policy is to a certain extent consistent with Zeman’s predecessor, Václav Klaus, but is in stark contrast to Václav Havel, who is widely remembered as a vociferous advocate of human rights anywhere on the globe. Despite the fact that occasionally presidents and governments clashed over foreign policy issues, the major pillars of the Czech foreign policy of the 1990s were clear and major political representatives were consistent in supporting them: pro-Western, pro-EU orientation as well as promoting human rights issues. However, these pillars of the Czech foreign policy have been undermined by practical steps taken by both branches of the Czech executive over the last decade or so. Miloš Zeman is one of the most influential proponents of Russian interests in Europe, for example, advocating Russia’s position towards the affair of poisoning of Sergei and Yulia Skripal, calling for lifting anti-Russia sanctions, supporting the Russian state corporation, Rosatom, and its effort to win a tender to  enlarge the Czech nuclear power plants.

Whereas Zeman has rarely been accepted by Western political leaders, he has repeatedly visited Russia. Zeman has also been to China four times, meeting top Chinese leaders, supporting their idea of reviving the Silk Road. It seems that this clear Eastern orientation, legitimizing authoritarian regimes in Russia, China and elsewhere, is not sufficiently balanced by other Czech foreign policy makers, some of whom take a similar position, whereas others are pragmatic and lack any orientation in foreign policy issues (such as Andrej Babiš). All in all, Czech foreign policy has been incomprehensible, especially vis-á-vis the EU. Thus, the person of the Minister of Foreign Affairs proves to be of key importance for the future of Czech foreign policy and its major goals, notably in the era of great debates on the future of the EU following Brexit.

Tomáš Petříček outlined the goals of his efforts as follows: “I would like to clearly delineate our country’s position in the European Union and the wider transatlantic area. Our core priorities are that our foreign policy has continuity, that it is consensual and that it is coherent.” This position was probably a reaction to varying standpoints on Czech foreign policy. This lack of consensus was visible within the executive over the past year and which made the Czech foreign policy unclear. As far as the migration crisis is concerned, Petříček adopted a very similar stance to Prime Minister Babiš: instead of letting refugees come to Europe, Petříček claims that migrants should be supported in their countries of origin: “We can do more in countries like Jordan, Lebanon, and Turkey to help refugees and improve their living conditions in refugee camps. Our target should be to stabilize the countries they are fleeing in order to ensure they can stay in their home countries.”

In general, the appointment of Tomáš Petříček as the Minister of Foreign Affairs was a clear disappointment for many observers, because Petříček is an inexperienced minister whose views on foreign policy had not been known in public before he became the Minister. Petříček’s efforts to take the initiative as the Minister of Foreign Affairs and set the agenda will probably be very difficult given his lack of experience, lack of political authority, lack of authority of his own party (which is also divided on key foreign policy issues) and also with regard to the assertive position of Miloš Zeman and Andrej Babiš, the two dominant figures in Czech politics and who are likely to outshine Petříček in Czech foreign policy.

Third, the Czech Republic celebrated the 100th anniversary of the Czechoslovak state, which was established in 1918. The celebrations and various public events commemorating the ups and downs of the Czechoslovak and Czech state peaked with the traditional state decorations ceremony at Prague Castle. This was a special moment to award distinguished citizens, historical figures (honored in memoriam), artists, sportsmen and like. The ceremony was tainted by a bitter dispute between president Zeman and his opponents. This dispute dates back to origins of Zeman’s presidency when he came into conflict with various people, notably with academics and presidents of several Czech universities who were not invited to the state decorations ceremony. In addition, a few leading political figures were not invited either, whereas others rejected to attend the ceremony in protest against – what they labeled as – a private Zeman party. The dispute was also accompanied by a critique of persons who were decorated. Besides uncontroversial personalities (such as anti-Nazi fighters or Olympic gold medalists), critics reproached President Zeman for decorating his close friends, people who collaborated with the Communist secret police, or controversial businesspeople.

It is highly unlikely that Miloš Zeman will cease to be a provocative and controversial politician, constantly attracting media attention and giving cause to anger. On the other hand, the Czech presidents are generally trusted political figures. Even Miloš Zeman, who has always been a polarizing figure in Czech society, enjoys support/trust of about half of the Czech population, much more than the government or parliamentary chambers (but less than mayors or local governments)[5]. More than four years remain until the end of his second presidential mandate. Only health problems, which the media often speculate about, may become an effective stop to his political style.

 Notes

[1] For details see Brunclík, Miloš, and Michal Kubát. 2018. Semi-presidentialism, Parliamentarism and Presidents: Presidential Politics in Central Europe. London and New York: Routledge.

[2] Several Zeman’s rivals from the 2018 presidential contest were elected senators, such as Jiří Drahoš, Pavel Fischer or Marek Hilšer.

[3] Art. 68 of the Constitution of the Czech Republic

[4] Zeman was once the party’s chairman and even prime minister between 1998 and 2002. However, since a significant portion of social democratic MPs did not support Zeman in the 2003 presidential elections, Zeman’s relationship to his party changed for the worse and this event has plagued their relationship since then.

[5] Červenka, Jan. 2018. Confidence in constitutional institutions and satisfaction with the political situation. October 2018. Praha: CVVM. (Full text is available in Czech only).

Gubernatorial elections in Russia

In a post for this blog on 12 September, I provided an early review of the 9 September regional elections in Russia. This was a real mix of races, including ballots for regional legislatures, by-elections for the State Duma, and contests for regional heads. The last set of elections – for regional executives – has proved the most interesting, as no candidate secured more than 50 percent of votes in four of the first-round gubernatorial races, forcing run-off votes. What has happened since – and what can this tell us about politics in general at the start of Putin’s fourth presidential term?

 

Opposition-party victories

Of the four interesting gubernatorial races, opposition-party governors have already been elected in two regions. The second-round gubernatorial vote took place in Vladimir Oblast’ – a region to the east of Moscow – on 23 September. The sitting, Kremlin-backed governor, Svetlana Orlova (United Russia), lost to Vladimir Sipyagin – a member of the Liberal Democratic Party of Russia (LDPR) – who secured 57 percent of the vote. Similarly, an LDPR candidate, Sergei Furgal, beat the United Russia incumbent, Vyacheslav Shport, in the second-round vote in Khabarovsk Krai – a region in Russia’s far east – on 23 September, with 70 percent of the vote. Commentators have wondered whether this might be a moment when merely nominal opposition actors become real critics of the Kremlin, emboldened by electoral successes.

We should bear three things in mind when making sense of these opposition wins. Firstly, these losses for the Kremlin come in the context of the decision to implement a deeply unpopular pension reform – a policy change that has resulted in a sharp drop in support for United Russia. Rather than a positive vote for LDPR or KPRF (the Communist Party of the Russian Federation), therefore, many Russians were using their votes in the 9 September elections (and subsequent ballots) to protest against this particular policy. Secondly, even though members of nominally opposition parties have become regional heads, that certainly does not mean that they will be combative with Moscow and Kremlin-backed actors. It has been reported, for instance, that Sergei Furgal has suspended his membership of LDPR in order to appease, and work with, members of the regional elite. Thirdly, and relatedly, these are not the first opposition governors in Russia. In Irkutsk Oblast’, for example, a KPRF politician – Sergei Levchenko – has been regional head since 2015. And LDPR’s Aleksei Ostrovskii has been the head of Smolensk Oblast’ since 2012. We should not, therefore, lose perspective on these opposition wins, regardless of whether they were a surprise for the Kremlin.

 

Unfinished contests

Two other regions have unfinished gubernatorial races. In Khakassia – a region relatively near Russia’s borders with Kazakhstan, China, and Mongolia – the second-round vote was scheduled to take place on 23 September. However, the incumbent governor – Viktor Zimin (United Russia) – withdrew his candidacy on 21 September, meaning that the ballot had to be postponed. In the run-up to the new voting date of 7 October, the “Just Russia” party candidate, Andrei Filyagin, also withdrew his candidacy, resulting in another postponement. The “Party of Growth” candidate, Aleksandr Myakhar, also withdrew on 15 October. The second-round vote is now scheduled for 11 November, with only one candidate, KPRF’s Valentin Konovalov, who secured 45 percent of votes in the first round on 9 September. One obvious explanation for the multiple postponements is that the authorities want to do all they can to frustrate another opposition-party victory – an explanation that fits with attempts to disqualify Konovalov from the race. Konovalov has a chance to win, but there have been further recent attempts to block his pathway to power.

The final gubernatorial vote is scheduled to take place in Primorsky Krai – a region in the far east – on 16 December. In the first-round vote on 9 September, the Kremlin-backed incumbent, Andrew Tarasenko, won 47 percent of the vote, with the KPRF candidate, Andrei Ishchenko, achieving 25 percent. In the second-round vote on 16 September, Ishchenko looked certain to win. However, a dramatic surge for Tarasenko during counting of the final votes resulted both in his provisional victory and accusations of vote rigging. Indeed, these electoral fraud allegations resulted in the official invalidation of the voting results – something that deprived Tarasenko victory, but that has been challenged by Ishchenko in the courts, as he sees himself as the rightful winner. In light of this voting scandal, Tarasenko resigned and was replaced by Oleg Kozhemyako – until then head of Sakhalin Oblast’ – who will run as an independent in the 16 December ballot (although United Russia has declared its support for his candidacy).

The picture in Primorsky Krai has become even more complicated. On Saturday 3 November, the Primorsky regional KPRF branch voted not to field Andrei Ishchenko as its candidate in the December election. There are a number of reasons why this decision might have been taken. One possible consideration relates to reports of Kozhemyako’s rising popularity – something (if true) that will have been supported by the activities of Kremlin-funded political technologists dispatched to the region. Ishchenko’s withdrawal is, therefore, a pre-emptive move in anticipation of expected electoral defeat. Another possible reason relates to doubts about whether Ishchenko could clear the ‘municipal filter’ – a mechanism whereby electoral candidacy is only possible with the support of a specified number of municipal deputies. In practice, this provides a way for the authorities to block particular politicians from participating in elections. Indeed, there were reports that some municipal deputies in Primorsky Krai had complained of pressure not to vote for Ishchenko’s candidacy. The withdrawal decision might also signal the KPRF’s reluctance to incur the costs of opposing the Kremlin too publicly and meaningfully. As a member of the so-called ‘systemic’ opposition, the KPRF elite has to find the right balance between Kremlin loyalty and maintaining the semblance of an opposition political stance. It could be that the campaign leading up to the 16 December vote – never mind the prospect of an Ishchenko victory – upset that balance too much for comfort.

 

Not the end for Putin

Vladimir Putin’s fourth presidential term began six months ago, and should run until 2024. Do these regional election results constitute flashes of democracy in Russian politics – or signs that the Putin regime is in crisis?

No. But the electoral setbacks were not welcome for Putin’s team. A number of United Russia officials were fired following the regional race setbacks. This has been followed by moves to strengthen the party’s capacity in Russia’s regions. The reason is obvious: the Kremlin is keen not to see a repeat of the regional election surprises in 2019. It has been reported that the Kremlin has already begun evaluating the electoral appeal of governors up for re-election next year. Those who do not make the cut will be replaced with acting governors that the Kremlin thinks have better prospects of winning. This means that the Kremlin will reduce the likelihood of embarrassing electoral defeats, as well as giving incumbency advantage to more popular candidates. There is also a debate about whether to amend electoral legislation – a popular battleground for elements of the elite with differing views on how managed Russia’s ‘sovereign democracy’ should be.

Overall, then, the Kremlin was taken by surprise by opposition-party wins, but it is not in panic. Putin’s approval rating certainly took a significant hit as a result of the unpopular pension reform, but the numbers have stopped falling. Now, the task for ‘Team Putin’ is to adjust to the new normal – and to do what it can to prevent further opposition electoral gains. As the early anger resulting from pension reform has subsided, the protest-vote potential relating to this particular policy has certainly declined. But the regional election results will strengthen the position of those arguing for tighter, not looser, control of electoral campaigns – in the short-run, at least. In the longer term, this management might come into closer conflict with the rising importance placed by Russian citizens on democracy and human rights.

Marién Durán – ‘Dual Presidentialization and Autocratization: Turkey at a Critical Crossroads

This is a guest post by Marién Durán. It is based on an article that was recently published in Mediterranean Quarterly (2018) 29 (3): 98-116. https://doi.org/10.1215/10474552-7003192.

The article argues that dual presidentialization has accelerated Turkey’s movement toward autocracy in several ways: a greater control over the judicial branch and over public freedoms, in general, and freedom of the press, in particular.

This idea of dual presidentialization, a new concept proposed in this article, is useful for explaining autocratization and its implications. That the system is presidential does not always imply authoritarianism or autocratization; problems arise when a presidential system is designed with no adequate checks and balances or when the country is not a democracy.
What does dual presidentilialization mean in Turkey? It means that there has been a convergence or combination of two forms of presidentialization: legal reforms, and contingent or informal factors. In the first place, the article explores the legal and constitutional reforms that created presidentialization. The second relates to the presidentialization of Turkish politics, with an analysis of both the executive and the electoral and party aspects of the process, in accordance with the analytical framework provided by Thomas Poguntke and Paul Webb (2005). The objective is to explain how the resources of power have increased through both institutional reforms and the informal aspect.

The study of Turkey’s constitutional reforms is key to understanding the importance and impact of the institutional changes increasing the ruler’s power resources. The article analyzes constitutional changes that began with the 1982 constitution of the Third Republic, including the role of the president and the prime minister, the reform of the constitution in 2007 that enabled the direct election of the president of the republic, and the reforms approved in the 2017 referendum that converted Turkey to a presidential system. Both the 1982 constitution, without any adequate check and balances, and its successor in 2007 paved the way for a system in which priority is given to granting greater powers and control to the executive branch. Finally, the reforms approved in the 2017 referendum favor a presidential system without any constraints.

These constitutional reforms in Turkey have been accompanied by a process of presidentialization in which a charismatic figure has a particular and personal style. What does the presidentialization of Turkish mean? In this case, it refers to “the process by which regimes are becoming more presidential in their actual practice without, in most cases, changing their formal structure, that is, their regime-type.” (Poguntke, Webb, 2005). We refer to Poguntke and Webb work, because in the case of Turkey, this process has accompanied Turkish politics for decades, which became more pronounced since 2002 when the AKP came into power. Consequently, independently of any legal and constitutional factors, there have been contingent and structural factors leading toward a more presidential manner of acting, contributing in the end to a change in the form of the state.

Given we have clarified what dual presidentialization is, how has Turkey’s dual presidentialization accelerated the movement towards autocracy? The article analyzes that impact in terms of three key indicators: judicial power, civil liberties in general, and press freedom.
Why these areas specifically? This is because the judiciary and the media are horizontal and vertical checks and balances respectively on executive power. Certain power resources, such as electoral victories, the control of the main institutions and agencies, and the support of the ruling party, have helped President Erdoğan control appointments to the main positions in the judiciary.

Important reforms to the judiciary began in 2010 and continued in 2013 (due to corruption cases in AKP). The philosophy of these changes was to guarantee that there were no judicial decisions that could be negative for the AKP in important trials. Consequently, since 2013 onwards the judiciary has been under considerable pressure from the executive, damaging the separation of power.

Regarding civil liberties, the media and civil society constitute vertical checks and balances that have been eroded significantly in recent years by reforms and by the government’s authoritarian style. The AKP’s majority in parliament has allowed these reforms to be carried out. They also include Erdoğan’s continued leadership and ideology, with his belief in a “pious generation” and the imposition of certain values (including declarations regarding LGBT rights, couple relations, and so forth); as well as the control of the main institutions and media.

Finally, the AKP has continually degraded the freedom of the press since 2002, both in legal and constitutional terms and in the executive aspects of presidentialization. In this latter regard such pressure has been carried out in various forms: by creating communications media outlets close to the party and by placing pressure on the communications media. Pressure on journalists is common and Reporters without Borders lists numerous violations. Some indices such as Freedom House have reduced Turkey from the status of partially free to not free.

In summary, the progressive concentration of institutional power, aided by personal factors, has led to a process of autocratization. Since Erdoğan came to power, he has been able to gather enough resources to erode and virtually destroy certain checks and balances. His absolute control over the AKP, his ideology, the consecutive electoral victories (parliamentary, local, and presidential), his charismatic leadership, the control of the main institutions and state agencies, social networks, and media control have repressed freedom and institutions. In other words, the system has been damaged in terms of the functioning of government, rights, and public liberties.

Gary Murphy – The Irish Presidential Election of October 2018

This is a guest post by Gary Murphy, Professor of Politics in the School of Law and Government at Dublin City University

The re-election of Michael D. Higgins as President of Ireland has been widely welcomed across the Irish political landscape. His overwhelming victory on the first count with 55.8 per cent of the first preference vote has vindicated the decision of the two main political parties, Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil to support him. The 822,566 first preference votes he received is by some distance the largest number of votes ever secured by a candidate in an Irish presidential election. The turnout in the election was, however, the lowest in Irish presidential history at just 43.3 per cent.

Higgins was first elected in October 2011 for a seven year term from a total of six candidates and has proven to be a very popular president. He has what one might call the common touch. He presided with great dignity over the state’s hundred anniversary commemoration of the 1916 Easter Rising which heralded the beginning of the move towards Irish independence in 1921, and became the first Irish president to lead an official state visit to Britain in 2014.

For pretty much all of his pre-presidential political life Higgins was a devout exponent of left-wing causes both internationally and domestically. Many were fashionable in certain avant-garde circles but had little wider resonance. His two short spells in Cabinet between January 1993 and June 1997 as Minister for Arts, Culture, Heritage and the Gaeltacht were the oases around long barren spells in the political wilderness. Even when Labour was in government in the 1970s and 1980s, Higgins was against coalition. Then came the economic crash, the presidential election of 2011 and a political career that had all the signs of petering out to a footnote in Irish history was dramatically resurrected. Higgins’s victory had a type of last man standing quality about it. As his opponents were undone one by one by various foibles the avuncular Higgins was duly elected winning 39.6 per cent of the first preference vote.

In office Higgins has remained true to his beliefs and has made a number of speeches critical of what he sees as the global neoliberal project. He caused some controversy with his encomium on the death of the Cuban leader Fidel Casto in November 2016 where he praised Casto’s record on human rights but this was entirely consistent with his long held views of anti-colonialism and his opposition to American foreign policy. He has, however, been very careful not to overstep the constitutional boundaries of his office and made no specific criticisms of the Irish government’s policies during his seven year term.

Higgins showed a nimble dexterity in getting out of his original promise to only serve one term as President by solemnly declaring that while he did at one stage say that getting through one term was the length of his aspirations he decided he had to run again to build upon the very solid foundations he had laid in office. In that context he used his constitutional prerogative to nominate himself and the major political parties rowed in behind him.

Getting on to the Irish presidential ballot is a rather byzantine affair and is dominated by the political parties. While an incumbent can nominate themselves other candidates must either get the backing of twenty members of the Oireachtas which consists of 160 members of Dáil Eireann (the lower house) and 60 members of Seanad Eireann (the upper house), or four of the country’s 31 city and county councils, most of which are dominated by political parties.

Only one of Ireland’s political parties, Sinn Féin, decided to use their members of the Oireachtas to nominate a presidential candidate. When Mary Lou McDonald took over as Sinn Féin party leader in February 2018 she stated that she would like to see the party contest the election. Even though it had been clear for some time that President Higgins was more than likely going to run again, McDonald was determined that Sinn Féin would put forward their own candidate to challenge the popular incumbent. In mid-September the party duly nominated Liadh Ní Riada, one of its Members of the European Parliament to be its standard bearer in the election.

Most political observers were of the view that Sinn Féin would use the election campaign as a vehicle to accelerate its political momentum in the Republic of Ireland. The widespread perception was that while Sinn Féin could not realistically expect Ní Riada to mount a serious challenge to Higgins it expected to come a strong second and increase the 13.7 per cent of the vote its candidate Martin McGuinness secured in the 2011 contest and the 13.8 per cent of the vote it received in Ireland’s February 2016 general election.

When Eamon de Valera wrote the constitution in 1937 getting the support of four county or city councils for a presidential nomination would have been a gargantuan task given that Ireland was essentially a two party state and the councils were dominated by members of Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael who displayed strict loyalty to their party candidate. But since 1997 when the council route was first used to nominate independent candidates councillors have become somewhat intoxicated by the one real national power they have and 2018 became the third election in a row where independent candidates managed to get on the ballot through this route.

In comparative terms the Irish presidency is essentially a weak office. Presidents have very few constitutional powers of which to avail and so limited are these powers that a president has essentially no room for independent action. Nevertheless the draw of the presidency is such that the presidential elections of 2011 and 2018 have seen numerous candidates attempt to use the council route to get their name on the ballot. In 2011 three candidates were successful by dint of this route and this rose to four in 2018. These were Peter Casey, Gavin Duffy, Joan Freeman, and Seán Gallagher, who had come second to Higgins in 2011. Rather bizarrely, Casey, Duffy and Gallagher had all been part of the popular RTE television programme, Dragons Den, where the so-called dragons decided whether to invest in ideas and businesses pitched to them by putative entrepreneurs. Freeman, by contrast, was a noted campaigner for mental health initiatives and had established one of Ireland’s largest charity organisations, Pieta House.

Gallagher was a late entrant to the campaign and had received some notoriety after having sued RTE over the 2011 campaign. He had held a substantial lead until the last week of that campaign and argued that the state broadcaster’s behaviour in a television debate essentially cost him the election. This suit was not settled until December 2017. By the middle of September all four had received the required amount of nominations from the country councils and a short five week campaign of six candidates began. Four opinion polls held between 16 September 2018 and 16 October 2018 were very consistent and showed Higgins with a massive lead of close to 70 per cent, Gallagher in the low teens and the rest in single figures. The strong Sinn Féin challenge never materialised. Gallagher’s campaign was nowhere near his 2011 showing and the other independents gained no traction with the voters.

This changed dramatically in the last ten days of what had been a relatively dull campaign up to then. There has been various mutterings about supposed lavish expenses being incurred by Higgins but these gained little momentum and it appeared that none of the candidates could offer a persuasive case to unseat the incumbent. Then in a podcast interview with a national news organisation Peter Casey made somewhat incendiary comments about the travelling community wherein he criticised the decision by the Dáil to give formal recognition to Travellers as a distinct ethic group in 2017 and claimed that they were basically camping on other people’s land. He also vociferously criticised many people on social welfare claiming that Ireland had become a welfare-dependent state, with people having a sense of entitlement that had become unaffordable.

Casey was widely criticised by the other candidates and various media commentators but his comments seemed to strike a chord with various parts of the electorate and he continued with these themes in a number of media debates over the last week of the campaign. Casey had never been at more than 2 per cent in any of the polls taken during the campaign but when two exit polls were released after voting had finished on Friday 26 October he was close to 21 per cent. When the votes were counted he had received 342,727 first preferences and 23.3 per cent of the votes. The most likely explanation for the rise in the Casey vote is that it was a protest against the political establishment added with elements of prejudice against marginalised groups. The other challengers all polled in single figures with Sinn Féin’s Liadh Ní Riadh polling a disastrous 6.38 per cent to finish fourth.

Incumbency proved to be a real advantage for Higgins. The electorate were clearly happy with their president who had represented them with distinction abroad and had caused no real controversy at home. Given the constraints of the office it was extremely difficult for the other candidates to offer a persuasive case of why they should replace him. Ultimately in a resounding manner the Irish electorate were quite happy to settle for a repeat of the last seven years of the Higgins presidency safe in the knowledge that the next seven are likely to see a continuation of a safe pair of hands as their head of state.

Estonia – Will Kersti Kaljulaid become more political?

It has been a little more than two years since Kersti Kaljulaid was elected as Estonia’s fourth president since the end of the Soviet occupation. While her election was in many ways remarkable – both parliament and the electoral college failed on five occasions to elect a successor for Toomas Hendrik Ilves, triggering a minor constitutional crisis and a reform of the electoral system – she has been considerably less visible in day-to-day politics than her predecessors. As the next parliamentary elections draw closer, it is not clear whether she will choose to pursue a similar (or even more) apolitical stance or show at least some political preferences.

President Kersti Kaljulaid speaking at the opening of the Estonian parliament, 10 September 2018 / image via president.ee © Erik Peinar

During her first year in office, Kaljulaid remained largely passive – she refrained from playing an active part in the formation of the government shortly after her election and shied away from more controversial issues. The latter also applies to her second year: Kaljulaid (successfully) continued to play the role of global ambassador for “E-stonia” (Estonia as a world leader in digital services) and – together with her Baltic colleagues – repeatedly raised the issue of the region’s national security vis-a-vis Russian aggression with Western (NATO) partners. On the other hand, she failed to follow up on some more critical remarks from her first speech at the opening of parliament in September 2017 in actions or (further) words. For instance, she stressed that ethnic Russian residents of the country were just as Estonian as the ethnic Estonian population. However, the only notable initiative in addressing this issue seems to have been a one-month relocation of her office to Narva (a city dominated by the ethnic Russian population).

During the most controversial political discussion in Estonian politics during the last year, she remained remarkedly quiet. In May 2017 (apparently authorised by a resolution dating back to the year 2000), the government launched a consultation to find the most suitable location for a large pulp mill near Tartu (the country’s second largest city). However, the plans were opposed by a great number of environmental NGOs and local resident groups. Eventually, the government decided the shelve the plans in June this year. Thereby, Kaljulaid failed to comment on the debate apart from a few of vacuous remarks.

Kaljulaid once again used her speech at the opening of parliament in September this year to express concerns over some government reforms. In particular, this concerned a potential privatisation of health insurance provision and further reduction in the welfare state. However, given last year’s track record, it is unclear whether this will result in any attempts to influence policy or to actively avert a change in the status quo. It is likewise doubtful whether Kaljulaid’s comments can be interpreted as cues to political parties with regard to the upcoming parliamentary elections in March 2019. Over the last months, the Estonian Conservative People’s Party (EKRE) – a national-conservative party that entered parliament for the first time in 2015 – has gained strongly in opinion polls and may emerge as the second largest party.

The Estonian president has two attempts to nominate a candidate for prime minister after elections and can thus have a decisive influence on government formation – especially as electoral results do not always allow the largest party to form a coalition (in about a quarter of governments formed since 1992, the prime minister was not from the largest party). Therefore, we should closely monitor Kaljulaid’s behaviour and statements in the run-up to the parliamentary election. She is unlikely to be as outspoken about her coalition preferences or dislike of particular candidate as her predecessor was in 2010, yet it may still help us to understand how she will work with the next government and whether she will become more active in the future.

France – Is President Macron losing the plot?

Is President Macron losing the plot? He had every reason to celebrate the first anniversary of his election as French President in May 2018. At that stage, his poll rankings were consistently better than those of his two immediate predecessors, Hollande and Sarkozy. Since then, however, things have not gone according to plan. In July 2018, the Benalla affair undermined, by association, the claim to ethical integrity and cast unwelcome light on the operation of Macron’s Elysée. After a highly mediatized summer break – peppered with minor controversies that are germane to the ‘peopleisation’ of the presidential office, such as Brigitte Macron’s ordering of a new swimming pool at the Bregançon residence – things began to disconnect in earnest. The lingering presence of the Benalla scandal competed with presidential hesitations, and ministerial resignations to disrupt the carefully-laid plans of the ‘disruptive President’ ( On Macron as a ‘disruptive president’, see Helen Drake’s blog in Political Quartely, 14th September 2018 ‘ Is France having a moment? Emmanuel Macron and the politics of disruption http://www.pqblog.org.uk/2018/09/is-france-having-moment-emmanuel-macron.html).

The Benalla scandal broke in mid-July 2018, when videos of Alexandre Benalla, one of President Macron’s key security advisors, were published by Le Monde, allegedly showing him roughing up a couple of protestors during the 1 May 2018 demonstrations in Paris. The scandal involved, inter alia, the then Interior Minister (Gérard Collomb), the Chief of the Paris Police force (Michel Delpuech), the Head of Macron’s own office (Patrick Stzroda) and some would argue Macron himself. It cast light on the malfunctioning of the security services under Macron and the willingness of his advisors to take the law into their own hands. The scandal was interpreted in the press as highly informative of Macron’s leadership style, based on the primacy of a network of personal loyalties, developed in the main during the 2017 presidential campaign, to the exclusion of professional and political influences from outside the inner circle. One immediate casualty of the Benalla scandal was the postponement of the constitutional reform initially announced for the summer of 2018.

While the Benalla scandal continues to disseminate its own form of poison (in the form of the Senate’s Committee of Inquiry, convoking leading figure to testify, including Benalla himself) Macron’s authority has been undermined by hesitations, resignations and diminishing popularity.

One of Macron’s core claims of the first year in office was to be the maitre des horloges, the timekeeper. President Macron has paid close attention to controlling the agenda and dictating the rhythm, of events. This capacity to control time has been called into question on several occasions since the end of the summer. The claim to exercise decisive, vertical leadership was challenged by the apparent hesitations over whether to go ahead with a ‘pay as you go’ system of withholding taxation at source. Planned during the Hollande presidency, this measure had been postponed for one year by Macron. After ten days or so of apparent hesitation by the President, Prime Minister Philippe confirmed in a televised interview in September that this measure would indeed be implemented. This episode might be interpreted as Macron making sure that the President is seen to be making the final decision (and of ensuring that the Finance ministry respect presidential orders), but the public effect was to cast doubt upon the firm, vertical leadership that had characterized the first year in office.

The sense of drift was aggravated by the October 2018 government re-shuffle, forced on a reluctant Macron by the resignation of Gérard Collomb, Interior minister, former mayor of Lyon and one of Macron’s earliest political sponsors. Coming on the heels of that of Nicolas Hulot, the charismatic Environment minister – who complained of losing out on most policy arbitrations – the Collomb resignation carried a body blow to Macron’s claim to control the rhythm and style of politics. In both cases, the resignations were made public via the media, at times of major inconvenience for the incumbent government. Hulot resigned shortly after President Macron had refused his resignation. Collomb began by making clear his preference to return to Lyon and compete for the townhall after the 2019 European elections, an unsustainable position that provoked public and private criticism and political controversy within the microcosm sometimes known as la Macronie. Collomb was one of the few politicians confident enough to ‘tell the truth’ in relation to Macron himself, accusing the President of ‘hubris’ in an interview published while he was still Interior minister.

Whether deliberately designed to damage Macron or not, Collomb’s resignation added to the sense of drift. The time taken to name a new government – in reality, just over ten days – was modest in relation to Belgian, Spanish, German or Italian examples, but seemed inordinately long to commentators of France’s permanent news programmes, as well as a press that has become surprisingly (excessively?) hostile to Macron. The long drawn out ministerial re-shuffle occasioned by Collomb’s resignation (on 4th October, only resolved with the announcement of the modified Philip 2 government on 16th October) ended with the predictable nomination of Macron loyalist Christophe Castaner as the new Interior Minister and minor movements elsewhere (the resignations of Francoise Nyssen as Culture Minister, for example). While those close to the Prime Minister insisted that the loyalty of Edouard Philipppe to Macron was not in question – that there was ‘not even the beginning of the cigarette paper between him and Macron’, in the celebrated expression – the time taken to create the new government might be interpreted in part as revealing a struggle for influence between the centre-Right around Philippe (pushing for the nomination of Gerard Darminin as Interior minister) and the Elysée, determined to retain as much control as possible over the process. The result was one of the longest episodes of reshuffle in the history of the Fifth Republic for an uncertain result.

At any rate, the polls continue to provide worrying reading for Macron: the Journal du Dimanche of 14th October suggested that Edouard Philippe might be emerging as a more trusted and popular politician than Macron himself. Such lèse-majesté challenges the unwritten rule that the Prime Minister must not overshadow the President in terms of popularity and might sow the seeds of presidential revenge. Finally, Macron’s personal style- whereby the injunction to ‘ tell the truth often takes the form of brutal one-liners – has blurred the cohesion of the political message. Thus, the impact of the publication of well-received health and anti-poverty plans was lessened by presidential phrases on the ‘mad amount of money’ spent on welfare and on the ‘easy’ availability of employment.

Emmanuel Macron is turning to the European level to ease his worries. The French President continues to benefit from considerable prestige in Brussels and elsewhere. His attempt to construct the forthcoming European election contest as one between progressives and conservatives is a way of attempting to Europeanize the successful recipe of the 2017 presidential elections in France. But such an enterprise is fraught with dangers, in Europe as well as in France. Experience suggests that European elections are second order elections fought on domestic issues (though they can have first order consequences). It is far from certain that electors will be willing to follow Macron in terms of advocating a ‘progressive’ Europe. Early polls suggest that Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement national (RN – formerly the Front national, FN) will be a formidable rival in 2019, possibly retaining its position as the first French party. Politicizing the European elections might prove counter-productive.

Macron can rely on two solid underlying reasons for optimism. First, is there really a political alternative? The France Unbowed leader Jean-Luc Melenchon is embroiled with party funding scandals, as is Marine le Pen and the RN. The Socialists have just suffered a further split, as a group of left-wing senators and deputies around Senator Marie-Noelle Lienneman and Deputy Emmanuel Maurel has broken off to form a new party. The Republicans (les Républicains) are deeply divided on the leadership of Laurent Wauquiez. The RN is staging somewhat of a recovery, but memories of Marine Le Pen’s catastrophic performance in the debate with Macron in between the two rounds remain vivid. Second, the institutions of the Fifth Republic continue to provide a powerful base upon which to ensure a form of presidential ascendancy.

Cyprus – A crisis of institutions and the need for checks and balances

Cyprus is a comparatively young democracy with just 58 years of independent life. In this period both political and state institutions have struggled to find their place and a balance between them due to the political unrest before 1974 that culminated in the Greek-junta-led coup and the Turkish invasion that followed. Since then, the Republic of Cyprus (RoC), although operating without the Turkish Cypriots, it has developed a rather resilient cluster of state and political institutions that seemed to work relatively efficiently.

However, the economic crisis and the changes affected after the 2013 bail-in revealed a number of shortcomings in their operation and the relations between them. These limitations and inefficiencies touch upon several aspects of their functioning; for example, issues of institutional culture, practices of clientelism that run through them, insufficient structures to cope with change and new challenges, relations between them, etc. All these have created several nests of tension between them. Moreover, the overall context within which politics take place in Cyprus in recent years has made it extremely difficult for institutional politics to continue performing as they did, i.e., unquestioned by the people and the media.

People are very suspicious of politicians and political institutions in particular. Levels of trust in political parties, the government, the president and the parliament to name but a few are constantly very low. Other independent institutions such as the Attorney General, the Governor of the Central Bank and the General Auditor were until recently untouched by the criticism that swept the entire political system. These institutions were seen as bedrocks against inefficient, unreliable and often corrupt politicians and government officials, something like an oasis in a desert of inefficiencies, bad practices and corruption.

However, this is changing. All the above-mentioned independent institutions are now caught in the wider crisis of legitimation. Independent institutions and more precisely the persons holding the offices, are now viewed as part of a wider political game with their own personal agendas, much like the politicians. To be fair, this perception is not unrelated to the fact that some of these independent officials clashed with other entrenched interests and institutions (e.g., part of the media, the civil service, the President of the Republic himself, etc.). This has made them a target for their practices from the media, politicians and government officials. It has also revealed that they could also have an agenda of their own since the control they exercise is sometimes seen as selective.

Despite the fact that the motives behind the attacks against independent institutions might not be entirely noble in nature they do point to an existing problem: most of these institutions operate in an environment almost free of any type of control. This state of affairs is largely due to the fact that independent institutions derive their authority directly from the constitution which does not provide for effective mechanisms of accountability and control. Once they are appointed there are no effective checks and balances to their authority.

However, there are public voices now calling for some degree of control and accountability for independent institutions. These voices became louder in recent months as Cypriot society witnessed a number of conflicts between the various institutions and on various grounds revealing the lack of checks and balances between them. This has created a sense of a generalized institutional crisis. For some analysts this institutional crisis is the outcome of the personal characteristics of the people holding the offices who vie for personal attention and a political career. However, a deeper look reveals structural inefficiencies, institutional shortcomings and a lack of a proper institutional culture of self and also mutual control. Whatever the reasons though, recent polls indicate that society has lost faith in the workings of our entire institutional detting which seems unable to respond the multifaceted challenges facing Cyprus in the aftermath of the economic crisis and the need to find a solution to the persisting Cyprus problem. The sense of a generalized crisis is also the result of a chronic impunity of those who brought the country on the verge of economic destruction.

At the same time Cyprus faces an international outcry because of its questionable practice of providing Cypriot (and therefore EU) citizenship to wealthy people from countries outside the EU. This ‘citizenship industry’ not only brings Cyprus at the knife’s edge of foreign auditing authorities and international institutions but it is also seen by many Cypriots as a way for the political and economic elite to profit whereas the majority of the people faces a harsh time in their personal lives.

All the above bring to the fore important issues of institutional and also political nature the most important of which is the need to develop an efficient system of checks and balances for all institutions and between institutions which is now lacking; this will allow them to work efficiently and restore the lost confidence of society in them.