Monthly Archives: July 2017

Brazil – Former President Lula Sentenced to Nine and a Half Years in Prison

In a decision, where the true political ramifications are, as of yet, unknown, last week, the former two-term president of Brazil, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, was sentenced to nine years and six months in prison by judge Sergio Moro. Lula, of the Partido dos Trabalhadores (PT) or Worker’s Party, served as Brazil’s president between 2003 and 2011. Probably Brazil’s most popular politician in recent decades, Lula was sentenced for his part in the ever-widening Lavo Jato corruption scandal. The sentence is connected to some UK£590,000 in bribes that Lula allegedly received from the Brazilian engineering firm OAS. Apparently, Lula bought a seaside apartment in a complex built and operated by OAS for UK53,000, but OAS then ‘upgraded’ Lula to a lavishly refurbished duplex apartment worth nearly UK£600,000 in the same complex.

The Lavo Jato corruption scandal, which has engulfed the Brazilian, and increasingly the regional, political establishment centres upon bribes given to Brazilian politicians (and elsewhere) by the Brazilian construction giant, Odebrecht, in addition to a host of other companies, in return for a whole gamut of favours. In fact, Odebrecht alone has admitted to paying over US$1 billion in bribes and apparently, they even had a designated department whose sole function was to bribe governments across the region in return for state building contracts.

The scandal has rocked Brazil. The current president, Michel Temer is facing corruption charges, and a much discussed list, known as Fachin’s list, when released, contained details of prominent politicians that are under investigated for allegedly receiving payments from Odebrecht. This list is based on information provided to federal investigators in Brazil by 77 former Odebrecht executives as part of a larger plea bargain and includes at least eight government ministers, nearly a third of the whole cabinet.

The scandal has also dragged other Latin American executives into its orbit and has included allegations of corruption involving the former president of Peru, Alejandro Toledo (2001-2006), the sons of former Panamanian president, Ricardo Martinelli (2009-2014), current Panamanian president, Juan Carlos Varela, current Colombian president, Juan Manuel Santos, and in Argentina, members of Mauricio Macri’s centre-right organization have been accused of ties with Odebrecht, and in the case of Gustavo Arribas, of accepting a direct bribe from the firm. In the Dominican Republic, the Brazilian firm admitted that it payed US$92 million in bribes to Dominican government officials to secure large and lucrative infrastructure projects.

Although this sentence hangs above Lula like the sword of Damocles, Judge Moro has allowed Lula to remain free until he appeals, a process that could take up to eighteen months. The decision will also have significant implications for the next presidential election in 2018. Lula has long been touted as a possible candidate for the beleaguered PT, and opinion polls suggest that he would be one of the hypothetical front runners in any election contest. Currently, as long as the legal action is ongoing, Lula is free to run. However, if he appeals and his appeal is successful, the verdict must completely quash Moro’s ruling. Any slight alteration or amendment to the sentence would still result in a conviction and would present Lula from running in the next election, as his case would have been heard in two different courts. If he accepts his sentence and does not appeal, he is also free to run, but he most likely will end up in prison. Not an easy choice for either Lula or the PT.

Carole Spary – From parliament to president: Symbolic representation and the candidacy of Meira Kumar

This post first appeared on IAPS Dialogue: The Online Magazine of Institute for Asia-Pacific Studies at the University of Nottingham. Thanks to the Director of IAPS, Professor Katharine Adeney, for allowing the repost here

In late June, a collective of 17 opposition parties led by the Indian National Congress Party (Congress) announced Meira Kumar, the former Speaker of the lower house of the Indian Parliament, as its nominee for the election of the President of India, due on 17 July. Prior to this, the governing party, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), had announced Ram Nath Kovind, the governor of the north Indian state of Bihar as its nominee. Both are positioned as Dalit leaders, where Dalits are the most marginalised group in India’s unequal caste system. If elected on 20 July, Kumar would not be the first woman or Dalit to become President of India – Pratibha Patil (2007-12) and KR Narayanan (1997-2002), respectively, precede her. But she would become the first Dalit woman President.

Symbolic representation in candidate selection is nothing new for Meira Kumar. As the first woman Speaker in India (2009-2014), she provided her party, the Congress, with an important precedent. However, throughout her presidential campaign, she has rejected the emphasis on her and her rival candidate’s Dalit identity, stressing ideological differences with the governing party. Gender has been absent from the debate, except for the media’s labelling of Kumar as ‘Bihar ki beti’ (Bihar’s daughter) due to her place of birth. The unshakeable focus on identity demonstrates tensions inherent in symbolic representation – while it provides candidates and parties with political capital, candidates find it hard to control the message of who and what they claim to represent, with identity taking precedence over ideas.

Symbolic representation in Indian politics: intersecting identities

Kumar’s election as Speaker in 2009 exemplified complex intersections of gender, class, and caste underpinning debates on women’s under-representation in electoral politics in India and elsewhere. The unanimous election of a woman Speaker compensated for the Congress party’s failure to deliver a manifesto promise on parliamentary gender quotas in their previous term (2004-2009). The additional symbolic capital generated by Kumar’s intersecting identities meant she was chosen above other potential women candidates. Congratulatory speeches by MPs in the Lok Sabha professed the importance of her election for women, especially Dalit women. Kumar acknowledged in a press interview that her election as Speaker sent a positive message to women and Dalits. Sometimes overlooked is the fact Kumar was not the first woman to occupy a senior presiding role in India’s national parliament, that too a woman from an underrepresented group in parliament: Muslim MP Najma Heptulla was Deputy Chair of the upper house (Rajya Sabha) for seventeen years. As a more senior constitutional position, however, the first woman Speaker was an important milestone.

MPs were also optimistic she would represent women’s interests better than her predecessors. anticipating the passage of the long-debated legislation on gender quotas in parliament and state assemblies, which was eventually passed in 2010 during Kumar’s term but only by the upper not the lower house, and had not been introduced in the lower house by the end of Kumar’s term in 2014. Some past Speakers, particularly those who were not from among the ‘somatic norm’ of parliament – predominantly Hindu, upper caste, north Indian, and male – were subjected to similar expectations, like the late Speaker P.A. Sangma (1996-1998) whose election was expected to enable visibility of concerns of the North East.  This ‘burden of representation’ for under-represented groups is rarely placed on dominant-group representatives, at least to the same degree. Some argued, and still do, that Kumar’s privileged upbringing as a daughter of senior political leader, Jagjivan Ram, meant her experiences are unrepresentative of the ‘average’ Dalit woman in India. While this is a valid critique in class terms, we need to consider further the possibilities of the ideal ‘authentic’ representative, and why more attention is paid to Kumar’s supposed ‘inauthenticity’ than representatives from other dominant social groups.

Presidential candidacy and representative claim-making

Meira Kumar’s presidential nomination in 2017 means she again finds herself in the midst of a debate about identity and representation. She has tried to shift focus away from her and her rival candidate’s caste identity, reportedly saying that ‘”When an election to the highest office is being held, the Dalit issue is being raised. Earlier, the capabilities, merits and achievements of the two candidates used to be discussed and no one talked about their caste”. Elsewhere she was quoted as saying: ‘”Do we – Ram Nath Kovind and I — have no other qualities?…”’. In so doing, Kumar attempted to control representative claims. Throughout her presidential campaign she stressed support for secular and democratic values such as freedom of speech, contrasting this with the governing party, criticising a climate of fear and rising casteism and communalism and increasing violence against Dalits and Muslims. She publicly appealed to the electoral college to vote with their conscience.

Consequently, this presidential election has been more confrontational than her Speaker election in 2009, or her earlier diplomatic career. As outgoing Speaker in 2014, Kumar published a volume of her speeches linking her diplomatic career with her experience of parliamentary diplomacy, hosting foreign dignitaries and bilateral delegations, and participating in Inter-Parliamentary Union and the Commonwealth Parliamentary Association activities. As Speaker, she claimed she took care to remain above political preferences, and that her speeches were a ‘reflection of a broader outlook’. These experiences provide a good foundation for presidential office. But her principled campaign focus begs the question of how she will manage this confrontation if elected, given conventional relations between the President and Prime Minister.

Gender issues have been notably absent so far in the campaign; if Kumar has discussed gender explicitly, the media have not covered it prominently, except to label her as  ‘Bihar’s daughter’. Perhaps this is because the symbolic dividend of a second woman President is reduced. Perhaps it is because neither the governing or opposition parties can claim a strong track record on gender issues. Perhaps it is because some of the opposition parties supporting her candidacy had vigorously opposed issues such as the gender quota Bill during Kumar’s term as Speaker. Perhaps it is because the current Speaker is an experienced woman parliamentarian from the BJP. Most plausibly, it is because casteism and communalism are the common denominators on which those parties supporting her can agree, even if in the past these have manifested in gendered forms.

The campaign emphasis on democratic values was a public intervention at a much needed time. Whatever the outcome on 20 July, this election demonstrates once again that representative claims by candidates, their supporters and detractors, about who and what they represent, are vigorously contested, and that identity and symbolic representation are likely to play an important role in electoral politics in India in the future. Is symbolic representation enough? No – precedents are welcome but the substantive transformation for marginalised groups needs to follow. Allrepresentatives, not just those perceived to embody more marginalised identities, need to be held accountable for bringing about the change.

Carole Spary is an Assistant Professor in the School of Politics and International Relations and Deputy Director of the Institute of Asia and Pacific Studies at the University of Nottingham. She tweets at @carolespary . For more on Meira Kumar’s election as first female Speaker in 2009, see the author’s published book chapter on first female Speakers co-authored with Faith Armitage and Rachel Johnson (in Rai and Johnson’s edited collection Democracy in Practice, 2014, Palgrave Macmillan). Image credit: CC by Public.Resource.Org/Flickr.

Yonatan L. Morse – The African State, Presidential Power, and Electoral Authoritarianism in Cameroon

This is a guest post by Yonatan L. Morse, Assistant Professor in Department of Political Science at the University of Connecticut. It is based on his recent article in International Political Science Review.
Africa is a fascinating testing ground for the study of electoral authoritarianism. While not clearly part of the Third Wave of democratization, in the early 1990s the continent was swept by a wave of economic and political reform. However, the continent’s democratic credentials are quite tenuous. There is a strong consensus that alongside a number of democratic success stories like Ghana or Nigeria reside a considerable population of electoral authoritarian regimes. These regimes combine regular elections with undemocratic practices that range from fraud, harassment, censorship, and state violence. Today, several African countries are entering their third decade of electoral authoritarianism.

The persistence of electoral authoritarianism in Africa is puzzling, especially considering the crucial role of the state. In many comparative studies of electoral authoritarianism, the state’s capacity to extract resources via taxation, administer territory, command personnel, and deploy coercive units is seen as paramount. However, African states generally rank low along these measures. Nor do differences in state capacity clearly explain the relative longevity of African electoral authoritarian regimes. Longstanding electoral authoritarian regimes in Cameroon, Ethiopia, Gabon, Tanzania, Uganda, and Zimbabwe do not have demonstrably more powerful states than short-lived ones in Ghana, or Zambia.

In recent research I argue that the endurance of electoral authoritarianism in Africa can partially be explained by reassessing state capacity in relation to contextual logics of state building. The African state is often referred to as neo-patrimonial. Faced with acute post-independence challenges, foundational leaders stabilized politics by brokering with other elites, who were often representative of politically relevant ethnic blocs. The persistence of this political order required resources, but also marginally more capable states and, importantly, the elevation of presidents as critical actors. I illustrate this with reference to Cameroon, one of Africa’s most resilient electoral authoritarian regimes.

Coercive Capacity and Presidential Power in Cameroon

At independence the state in Cameroon was by no means robust, but it possessed unique advantages compared to other African countries. The colonial territory was bifurcated between the French and British, and neither entity made real investments into a civil administration, tax authority, or traditional military. However, an uprising in French Cameroon (called the UPC Rebellion) compelled the French to create emergency zones and augment Cameroon’s military with a gendarmerie and small intelligence-gathering unit. These innovations proved influential and were bequeathed to Cameroon’s first president, Ahmadou Ahidjo.

Ahidjo used these tools to marginally expand the state’s coercive capacity and to elevate the presidency. By controlling the purse strings and threatening sanction, Ahidjo was able to coax other political parties into a singular entity called the Cameroon National Union (CNU). By 1972, federalism was abolished and Ahidjo stood virtually unchecked as the gatekeeper to state spoils. Throughout his tenure he maintained a careful balance of ethnic and regional interests in public appointment and spending. Other African regimes were built on similar principles, but not many were backed by the same threat of coercion against elites.

Ahidjo’s successor Paul Biya built on this system. Biya retained control over the powers of appointment, and much of Cameroon’s nascent oil wealth was managed for years in a secret account held by the president. Importantly, the orientation of Biya’s coalition was tilted toward his southern co-ethnics, while Ahidjo’s was toward the north. As one observer noted at the time, the essence of the regime relied on the “cohesion of a few important people.” This was not an authoritarian regime rooted in an objectively powerful state, but rather the support of a narrow political elite.

Electoral Authoritarian Resilience in Cameroon

This system came under severe duress prior to Cameroon’s foundational 1992 elections. Economic decline reduced Biya’s capacity to maintain elite support, while social grievances grew in the face of rampant public corruption. Opposition reached its apex during a six-month strike, which was matched by significant state violence. Indicatively, Biya eked by with just 40% of the vote, and the ruling party won just 49% of the seats. There were widespread accusations of fraud and repression by security services, the Ministry of Territorial Administration, and provincial governors.

With Biya’s near-term survival ensured his preeminence as the chief broker stabilized the regime. Biya quickly entered into coalitions with various small parties like the Movement for Defense of the Republic (MDR), the United People’s Congress (UPC), and the National Party for Progress (NPP). By 1997, he had coopted members of the larger National Union for Democracy (NUDP), and elements of the Bamileké community. Installing an Anglo Prime Minister bolstered support from English-speaking regions. Today, Cameroon has the largest cabinet in Africa with over 60 appointed ministers and deputies. Biya has also resisted privatization efforts and controls access to hundreds of patronage positions. Fraud and coercion still impacts elections, but in 2011 Biya won 78% of the vote, and in 2013 the ruling party won 82% of the seats.

Coercion has also helped the regime deter challenges to Biya’s position as president. In 1997 Biya faced two internal challengers – one died of apparent medical complications, while the other was charged with corruption and sentenced to 20 years in prison. In 2008, regime elites revealed their concerns in private that a post-Biya reality would undermine the delicate balance of power. Unsurprisingly, Biya amended the constitution to change term limits to run for election again in 2011. A year later two other likely internal challengers – Marafa Yaya and Ephraim Inoni – were both convicted for embezzlement. State coercion has been used against citizens, but it has a clear role in maintaining the elite coalition.

Much of this builds on Thomas Calleghy’s insight that many African states are “lame leviathans,” meaning they cannot be exploited for massive social and economic projects, but nonetheless provide the necessary scaffolding for patrimonial orders. This holds true during elections too. When electoral authoritarian regimes retain some comparatively basic coercive features that help them keep the president at the apex of political coalition making, they can persist for extended periods of time despite electoral and internal challenges.

Jean-Louis Thiébault – The president and his party: Emmanuel Macron and La République en Marche (LRM)

This is a guest post by Jean-Louis Thiébault, emeritus professor at the Institut d’Etudes Politiques de Lille, France.

The analysis of the relationship between the president and his party is an essential factor in understanding presidential or semi-presidential systems. The presidential party provides the cadres, activists and supporters who support the presidential candidate of this party in the conquest and the practice of power. During the presidential campaign, it is transformed into a real political machine in the service of a man who is the candidate of the party. The party is transformed into a presidential party if its candidate is elected. It provides the bulk of the ministers nominated by the elected president to form the government, especially if it receives an absolute majority of parliamentary seats. It votes the texts which constitute the essential elements of the presidential program.

But there are two types of presidential parties. Many of them are traditional parties, long present on the political scene. But fewer of them are newly created, especially by a candidate who does not belong to any party and who wishes to have a political machine capable of supporting him in his conquest of power and in the implementation of its policy. This second type of presidential party resembles one of the different types of “personal parties”, analyzed by Mauro Calise from the example of Italy (1). They are subject to complete control by a presidential candidate on the party he has created himself.

The French presidential election of 2017 showed that three of the main candidates, Emmanuel Macron, Jean-Luc Mélenchon and, to a lesser extent, Marine Le Pen, were at the head of a movement that was not a traditional party , but rather a personal party (respectively La République en Marche, La France Insoumise and the Front National). Our analysis takes into account only la République en Marche, which has become a presidential party following the success of Emmanuel Macron in the 2017 presidential election. Pierre Rosanvallon has clearly shown the difference between a traditional party and this new type of party. According to him, a traditional party expresses a social world, territories, a culture. It is a grouping of people who share a certain social or ideological identity. On this basis, its members express opinions that become programs, and choose leaders. The movement acts in reverse: it is a leader who chooses a base. The traditional party relies on the implementation of the classical conception of representative democracy. It is a machine that organizes the representation of a group, while the movement organizes the membership of a leader (2).

The victory of Emmanuel Macron accomplished the trend towards the personalization of the political life that began over a half a century ago. This personalization has long been perceived as a perversion of democracy, particularly in France. In the republican vision, good democracy is impersonal and power must be collegial. In France, ideas, doctrines and programs continued to be a determining criterion. The victory of Emmanuel Macron updates for France an old phenomenon in the United States: the decisive weight of the personality of the candidates in electoral choices. The 1960s saw the advent of a time when the personality of politicians counted infinitely more for voters than the ideas they defended or professed. The election of Emmanuel Macron marks the moment when France joined the ranks of extremely personalized countries.

Pierre Rosanvallon considers that there is a growing phenomenon of personalization and mediatization, but he focuses on another factor. Quoting Thomas Poguntke and Paul D. Webb (The Presidentialization of Politics. A comparative study of modern democracies. Oxford : Oxford University Press, 2005) , he insists that the rise of executive power has profoundly changed the relationship to personalization. The 5th Republic is part of this general trend of the presidentialization of democracies, whether or not there is a presidential election. Presidentialization is a new development in Western democracies. Rosanvallon therefore considers that there is a growing personalization phenomenon, but that it corresponds everywhere to an increase in the power of the executive (4).

The notion of a personal party seems preferable to that of movement. But we must go further. Indeed, the victory of Emmanuel Macron led to the transformation of his party La République en Marche into a presidential party. The party is already seeking to institutionalize itself in order to be sustainable. It seeks to acquire status and structures. It seeks an articulation with the parliamentary group (5).

But this type of presidential party is indeed marked not only by the weight of institutions, but also by the personalization and mediatization of political life. The influence of Emmanuel Macron on the party is therefore very strong, not only in the electoral period before the parliamentary elections, but also during the formation of the government. It will certainly continue during the period of implementation of the policies made by the president.

But the main problem in a semi-presidential or presidential regime is the autonomy of the presidential party. The analysis of the relations between Emmanuel Macron and his party leads to the observation that the president closely controls the approach of the party.

The presidential party is often second relative to the president. La République en marche (LRM) party did not intervene in the nomination process, as Emmanuel Macron self-proclaimed himself a candidate in the presidential election. The candidates of the party in the legislative elections were chosen by a commission of investiture, under the close supervision of the president. Yet the party became the first party of France at the legislative elections. Macron benefited from a honeymoon election due to his victory in the presidential election. He thus benefited from the pre-eminence of the presidential election, from the lag of legislative elections in relation to the presidential election, and from the rules of the voting system in force, the first-past-the-post system.

1.) La République en Marche (LRM) party was created by Emmanuel Macron. The party is little more than one-year old. However, since June 11, 2017, it is the biggest party in France. In the run up to the legislative elections, the party already changed its name to become La Republique en Marche (LRM). The creation of this party stemmed from the desire to overcome traditional parties. Emmanuel Macron did not want to make a party in the image of those which  had structured the political landscape for a long time. Members of La République en Marche were registered by simple inscription of their personal data on internet. This new type of digital membership has made it possible to garner a spectacular number of members in a very short time. La République en Marche boasts more than 360,000 members. The main lines of the statutes were set by a national convention on 8 july 2017 before being submitted to a vote of the members before the end of July 2017. They provide for free membership, a collegial leadership, three-year non-renewable terms, and an organization based on autonomous local committees. The collegial leadership was chosen to avoid an over-personalization of the party, because the real leader of this new presidential party is Emmanuel Macron. But if membership remains free, only the members of LRM with a certain seniority will be able to vote during the consultations of the party (6). Party leaders want to benefit from the windfall of public party funding to transform the party, where the bulk of the budget would be spent on training activists and leading the debate and not just running costs. For example, they want to set up a system for tracing, recruiting and training new talent. It does not want to be satisfied with a kind of internal self-selection like the traditional parties (7).

2.) The party did not intervene in a nomination process because Emmanuel Macron self-proclaimed himself a candidate for the presidential election. In the recent presidential elections, the traditional parties (RPR-UMP and PS) existed before their candidates. In 2017, Emmanuel Macron created his own political party. He announced his candidacy for the presidential election on November 16, 2016. For several months prior to the announcement, Emmanuel Macron had been preparing for the presidential election of spring 2017, including on April 6, 2016 the creation of his party, the so-called En Marche! Emmanuel Macron placed himself at the center of the political spectrum and wanted to win voters in his name. With his party claiming to be “neither left nor right”, Emmanuel Macron said that he was outside traditional political parties, at a time when many voters were wary of these parties.

3.) The candidates of the party in the legislative elections were chosen by a commission under the supervision of the president. Emmanuel Macron set a new milestone in the construction of his party by launching a process to nominate candidates for the parliamentary elections at a press conference on January 19, 2017. A “call for nominations” process was launched. A national commission, composed of nine members of En Marche !, who committed themselves to not being candidates, was set up. The objective was clear: those who want to join the party must decide without delay. Emmanuel Macron said he was ready to welcome the candidatures of parliamentarians of “all republican formations”, socialists, radicals, ecologists, centrists and republicans. On the other hand, he rejected in advance any “agreement of apparatus”, with “any party whatsoever” (8).

4.) The presidential party benefited from a honeymoon election provided by the victory of Emmanuel Macron in the presidential election. Emmanuel Macron fully understood the logic of the political regime of the 5th Republic established in 1958 and completed in 1962 when the election of the president by universal suffrage was instituted by referendum. In the “republican monarchy” that is France, everything proceeds from the double effect of the presidential logic and a parliamentary majority (9). The presidential party benefited from the popularity of the president. To win in the constituencies, Emmanuel Macron bet on his image, his youth, but also on a skillfully staged authority. He relied on a presidential style that stood out from the communication of his two predecessors. The president’s party therefore benefited greatly from the electoral situation resulting from the presidential election. No opposition parties were able to form a coherent bloc against it. The LRM candidates won by default, because in most constituencies there was no active coordination against them. With different opponents in different constituencies, belonging to different political parties, there was no reason not to expect a big LRM majority (10).

Emmanuel Macron succeeded in occupying the central space and accommodating the heirs of centrism, but also appealed to “left-wing and right-wing” voters. The economic liberalism of Emmanuel Macron could attract right-wing voters, while his cultural liberalism was likely to attract left-wing voters (11).

5.) The presidential party enjoyed the pre-eminence of the presidential election. The presidential party benefited from the pre-eminence of the presidential election over the legislative elections. The victory of La République en Marche (LRM) was the result of the organization of honeymoon legislative elections. French voters did not deceive themselves and gave the president the means of presiding and the government those of governing. The legislative election campaign was not block against block, project against project, but was organised around the dynamic instituted by Emmanuel Macron. None of the three existing opposition parties was regarded by the public as a credible alternative. More than a vote of adhesion, voters made a vote of consistency (12).

Whenever legislative elections take place in the wake of the presidential election, the elected presidents (François Mitterrand in 1981, Jacques Chirac in 2002, Nicolas Sarkozy in 2007 and François Hollande in 2012) their party gained an absolute majority. The only counter-example was 1988 when the PS was forced to rely on the PC or the centrists. Since 2002, and the reversal of the electoral calendar, legislative elections confirm the presidential election. The need to give a majority to the president has never been so strongly felt. It is a real novelty: a political party that was not established managed to win the legislative elections (13).

6.) The presidential party benefited from the majority-plurality system, established in 1958 for legislative elections. LRM benefited from the amplifying effect of this electoral system in legislative elections. While LRM candidates won 32 per cent of the votes cast in the first round, the presidential party secured 308 seats in the National Assembly, at the end of the second round.

The objective of the two-round majority system is to secure a stable parliamentary majority and to provide the president with the means to implement his policy. The 2017 legislative elections have once again fulfilled this objective. The majority is amplified this year by the central position of LRM on the political chessboard.

7.) The presidential party did not intervene in the choice of the prime minister and the members of the government. The choice of the prime minister and the ministers is a choice of the president. The nomination of Edouard Philippe (LR) for the post of prime minister showed the desire to invent a « right-wing and left-wing » dual executive. Edouard Philippe’s appointment is an unprecedented move since, unlike all his predecessors, the new head of government is neither a close political relative, nor a faithful supporter, nor even an ally of the same party as the president. By appealing to the mayor of Le Havre, who claims to be from the right when he comes from the left, Emmanuel Macron invented a completely new executive dyarchy. The formation of the first and second government confirmed his determination to shake up the rules of the political game. With the exception of the first government of Michel Debré under the 5th Republic, it is unprecedented to see men and women from opposing political parties assembled in the same government. The departure of four prominent ministers (Richard Ferrand, Francois Bayrou, Marielle de Sarnez and Syvie Goulart), under a judicial procedure, led Emmanuel Macron to choose ministers who were mostly unknown to public opinion. They are technocrats without large political support or they were young members coming from La République en Marche (LRM), totally faithful. The promise to give prominence to civil society figures was met: half of the members of the first government and seventeen in the second. But the president and the prime minister had to agree on one key point: the number of ministries reserved to right-wing ministers. The prime minister’s political relatives set their conditions for participating in government (14).

8.) The presidential party intervenes little in the organization of the parliamentary majority. The president intends to organize the parliamentary majority. LRM has a large majority in the National Assembly, with 308/577 elected deputies. Candidates were elected because of the presidential label. But it was difficult for Macron not to meet the demands of his centrist MODEM allies (42 elected MPs) and about 20 members of the Republican (LR) party, who announced their willingness to form an independent group with the eighteen deputies of The Union of Independent Democrats (IDU). This new parliamentary group is expected to approach some 50 members.

The president actively participates in the selection of key positions, even if the formal decision does not belong to him: the presidency of the National Assembly, the presidencies of the parliamentary committees, and especially the presidency of the LRM group. Emmanuel Macron keeps an attentive, if not active, eye on the choice of the holder of the post of president of the National Assembly, who is the fourth personage of the state in order of protocol. He pleaded for the installation of a woman as president of the National Assembly. But he made the choice of experience by supporting the candidacy of François de Rugy. His knowledge of the institution (he was vice-president of the National Assembly during the last parliamentary term) made him appear to be the only candidate likely to organize the parliamentary work without being overwhelmed by the leaders of the opposition. In the aftermath of the second round of legislative elections, Emmanuel Macron asked Richard Ferrand to leave his post as Minister of Territorial Cohesion to take up the presidency of the LRM group in the National Assembly. By sending Richard Ferrand to the Assembly, Emmanuel Macron appointed one of his political relatives and the first of the faithful. The election was held on June 24, 2017, at a meeting of all LRM members. Richard Ferrand was the only candidate and he was elected unanimously, with two abstentions.

9.) The presidential party does not intervene in the choice of the holders of the administrative posts of the administration. During the first two months of his five-year term, Emmanuel Macron intends to change or, on the contrary, to confirm “all the executive positions in the public service ». Unprecedented in the history of the Fifth Republic, the approach evokes the “spoil system” in force in the United States. These are the “250 posts, filled in the council of ministers”. Emmanuel Macron intends to give full value to the traditional system of revocation “ad nutum” of the so-called “government’s discretionary” jobs, relying on the loyalty of the senior officials in the ministries who draft laws, implementing decrees and interpretative circulars (15).

Conclusion

The new party, la République en Marche, created by Emmanuel Macron, is not only a personal party, but it became a presidential party following the presidential victory of its founder. It is currently in a process of being institutionalized. This is the result of the impact of the institutions of the 5th Republic. They lead to the president’s hold on his party. But the personality of Emmanuel Macron, his style of government, and his ideas are also essential factors to be taken into account in order to understand the president’s close control over the party.

Notes

(1) Mauro Calise, Il partito personale : I due corpi del leader. Bari : Editori Laterza, nuova edizione 2010 ; Mauro Calise, “The personal party: An analytical framework” , Italian Political Science Review, Vol. 45, no. 3, 2015, 301-315.

(2) Pierre Rosanvallon (interview with Saïd Mahrane), « La nouvelle géographie politique », Le Point, 18 mai 2017 ; see also Michel Offerlé, « Les partis meurent longtemps », Le Monde, 31 mai 2017 ; Enrico Letta, « La victoire des mouvements sur les partis », Le Monde, 10 mai 2017).

(3) Thomas Poguntke and Paul D. Webb, The presidentialization of politics. A comparative study of modern democracies. Oxford : Oxford University Press, 2005.

(4) Pierre Rosanvallon (interview with Gérard Courtois), « Droite-gauche. Histoire d’un clivage », Le Monde, 17 juin 2017 ; Pierre Rosanvallon (interview with Béatrice Bouniol), « La refondation démocratique est la clé du quinquennat », La Croix, 9 mai 2017.

(5) Marc Lazar, « La République en Marche aura-t-elle un destin à l’italienne ? », Le Figaro, 26 juin 2017.

(6) Cédric Pietralunga, « Macron s’attelle à la structuration de son parti », Le Monde, 9-10 juillet 2017 ; Christine Ollivier, « Edouard Philippe fait la leçon aux Marcheurs », Journal du Dimanche, 9 juillet 2017.

(7) François-Xavier Bourmaud, « Comment le mouvement entame sa mue pour incarner le premier parti de France », Le Figaro, 13 juin 2017).

(8) Patrick Roger, « Emmanuel Macron lance un appel à candidatures pour les législatives » Le Monde, 19 janvier 2017.

(9) Françoise Fressoz, “Macron et la logique de la Ve République”, Le Monde, 13 juin 2017.

(10) Matthew S. Shugart, “France 2017: Round 4 (Honeymoon elections and presidentialization matter !)”, Fruits and Votes blog, june 18, 2017; Matthew S. Shugart, “France 2017: Honeymoon election time !)”, Fruits and Votes blog, june 11, 2017.

(11) Pascal Perrineau, « Aux sources idéologiques et politiques du macronisme », Le Figaro, 14 juin 2017.

(12) Guillaume Tabard, ” Les raisons d’un vote probable de confirmation “, Le Figaro, 10-11 juin 2017.

(13) Nicolas Rousselier, (interview with Pierre Steinmetz et Maël Thierry), « Une majorité presque encombrante pour le vainqueur », L’Obs, 15 juin 2017 ; Nicolas Rousselier (interview with Patrick Roger), « Le présidentialisme se retrouve plus gagnant que jamais », Le Monde, 4-5-6 juin 2017 ; Nicolas Rousselier (interview with Emmanuel Berretta), « Macron peut-il ubériser la Ve République ? », Le Point, 11 mai 2017.

(14) Bastien Bonnefous, Matthieu Goar et Solenn de Royer, « Onze secondes pour fracturer la droite », Le Monde, 17 mai 2017 ;

(15) Bertrand Bissuel, « Le président veut ‘mettre sous tension’ les hauts cadres de l’Etat », Le Monde, 17 mai 2015

References

Emmanuel Macron’s books and articles.

Emmanuel Macron, Révolution. Paris : XO, novembre 2016, 270p.

Macron par Macron. Paris : Editions de l’Aube, collection Le 1 en livre, mars 2017, 152p.

Emmanuel Macron, « Le devoir de rester fidèles », préface à l’ouvrage de Jean-Paul Huchon, C’était Rocard. Paris : Editions de l’Archipel, 2017.

« Macron, un philosophe en politique », Le 1, 6 juillet 2015.

Emmanuel Macron, « Les labyrinthes du politique », Le Monde, 27 mai 2017.

Emmanuel Macron, « Le monde et l’Europe ont besoin de la France », Le Monde, 27 mai 2017 (Text of the investiture speech at the Elysee Palace).

Emmanuel Macron, « Tous les ans, je reviendrai devant vous pour vous rendre compte », Le Monde, 5 juillet 2017 (Text of the speech before the Congress meeting in Versailles).

Emmanuel Macron, (interview with Nicolas Domenach, Bruno-Roger Petit, Maurice Szafran et Pierre-Henri de Menthon), « Macron ne croit pas au ‘président normal, cela déstabilise les Français’ », « Face au système politique, ‘ma volonté de trangression est forte’ », « Gare à la ‘République qui devient une machine à créer du communautarisme’ », Challenge, 16 octobre 2016.

Emmanuel Macron (interview with Etienne Lefebvre, Nicolas Barré, Dominique Seux, Grégoire Poussielgue, Renaud Honoré), «Mon projet économique », Les Echos, 23 avril 2017.

Emmanuel Macron (interview with Bastien Bonnefous, Nicolas Chapuis, Cédric Pietralunga et Solenn de Royer), «Je ne prétends pas être un président normal », Le Monde, 3 avril 2017.

Emmanuel Macron, (interview with Arthur Berdah, François-Xavier Bourmaud, Marcelo Westfreid, Alexis Brézet), « Je veux réconcilier les Français », Le Figaro, 28 avril 2017.

Books and articles on Emmanuel Macron

François Bazin, Rien ne s’est passé comme prévu. Les cinq années qui ont fait Macron. Paris : Robert Laffont, 2017, 489p.

François-Xavier Bourmaud, Emmanuel Macron. Les coulisses d’une victoire. Paris : L’Archipel, 2017, 288p

Marc Endeweld, L’ambigu Monsieur Macron. Paris : Flammarion, 2017, 336p.

Anne Fulda, Emmanuel Macron. Un jeune homme si parfait. Paris : Plon, 2017, 288p.

Nicolas Prissette, Emmanuel Macron. Le président inattendu. Paris : First, 2017, 240p.

Soazig Quéméner et Alexandre Duyck, L’irrésistible ascension d’Emmanuel Macron. Paris : Flammarion, 2017, 304p

Raphaëlle Bacqué et Ariane Chemin, « Macron, le nouvel âge du pouvoir », Le Monde, 9 mai 2017

Bruno Cautres, « Ce qui fait Macron », Le Monde, 8 avril 2017

Charlotte Chaffanjon, « La fabrique d’un chef », Le Point, 11 mai 2017.

Elie Cohen, Gérard Grunberg, « L’avènement d’Emmanuel Macron : crise de système ou accident industriel ? »Telos.eu, 19 juin 2017

Gérard Courtois, « Emmanuel Macron, une philosophie du pouvoir », Le Monde, 27 mai 2017.

Jean Garrigues, « Le vainqueur du 7 mai restaure le mythe de l’homme providentiel », Le Monde, 14-15 mai 2017.

Arthur Goldhammer, « Macron’s part wins a parliamentary majority », Foreign Affairs, june 18, 2017.

Jacques Julliard, « Le macronisme, un néo-gaullisme ? », Le Figaro, 6 juin 2017 .

Bruno Palier (interview with Frédéric Joignot), « A la scandinave ? Pas vraiment », Le Monde, 8 avril 2017.

Pascal Perrineau, « Aux sources idéologiques et politiques du macronisme », Le Figaro, 14 juin 2017.

Serge Raffy, « La prise de l’Elysée », L’Obs, 11 mai 2017.

Philippe Raynaud (interview with Eugénie Bastié), « Le chef de l’Etat a compris les erreurs de ses prédécesseurs », Le Figaro, 19 mai 2017.

Nicolas Truong, « Petite philosophie du macronisme », Le Monde, 16 mai 2017

 

New publications

Paul Chaisty and Svitlana Chernykh, ‘How Do Minority Presidents Manage Multiparty Coalitions? Identifying and Analyzing the Payoffs to Coalition Parties in Presidential Systems’, Political Research Quarterly, online first, available at: http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/1065912917715912

Thomas Sedelius and Jonas Linde, ‘Unravelling semi-presidentialism: democracy and government performance in four distinct regime types’, Democratization, online first.

Petra Schleiter and Edward Morgan-Jones, ‘Presidents, Assembly Dissolution, and the Electoral Performance of Prime Ministers’, Comparative Political Studies, online first.

Brandon Rottinghaus and Justin S. Vaughn, ‘Presidential Greatness and Political Science: Assessing the 2014 APSA Presidents and Executive Politics Section Presidential Greatness Survey’, PS: Political Science & Politics, Volume 50, Issue 3, July 2017, pp. 824-830.

Eduardo Alemán and Marisa Kellam, ‘The nationalization of presidential elections in the Americas’, Electoral Studies, Volume 47, June 2017, pp. 125-135.

Mark Bennister, Paul ‘t Hart, and Ben Worthy (eds.), The Leadership Capital Index: A New Perspective on Political Leadership, Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Mindaugas Jurkynas, ‘The parliamentary election in Lithuania, October 2016’, Electoral Studies, Volume 47, June 2017, pp. 46-50.

Kai M. Thaler, ‘Nicaragua: A Return to Caudillismo’, Journal of Democracy, vol. 28 no. 2, 2017, pp. 157-169.

Nic Cheeseman, Gabrielle Lynch, and Justin Willis, ‘Ghana: The Ebbing Power of Incumbency’, Journal of Democracy, vol. 28 no. 2, 2017, pp. 92-104.

Sheriff Kora and Momodou N. Darboe, ‘The Gambia’s Electoral Earthquake’, Journal of Democracy, vol. 28 no. 2, 2017, pp. 147-156.

Edward Goldring and Michael Wahman, ‘Democracy in Reverse: The 2016 General Election in Zambia’, Africa Spectrum, 2016, 51, 3, 107-121.

Stef Vandeginste, ‘Legal Loopholes and the Politics of Executive Term Limits: Insights from Burundi’, Africa Spectrum, 2016, 51, 2, 39-63.

Ryan Gibb, ‘The Elections in Uganda, February 2016’, Africa Spectrum, 2016, 51, 2, 93-101.

Uganda – Long anticipated, the battle over presidential age limits has begun

Twitter and WhatsApp are abuzz. Posters screaming “Youth Against Dictatorship” cover Kampala. Activists planning a mock funeral for the President are under arrest.

The furore comes after the announcement in the Uganda Gazette that a Constitutional (Amendment) Bill is soon to be published, paving the way for it to be tabled in Parliament. Among other provisions, the omnibus bill is expected to propose scrapping article 102(b) of the Constitution, which sets a presidential age limit of 75 years. Once the bill is gazetted, a Constitutional Review Commission will be appointed to gather citizens’ views on the proposed amendments, although it is unclear to what extent the Commission could influence the fate of the crucial, age limit article. Uganda’s President Yoweri Museveni, in power for over three decades, will be turning 76 ahead of the next elections in 2021, making him ineligible to run unless the age limit is dropped. The latest proposed constitutional change comes after Museveni already saw through the removal of presidential term limits in 2005.

Opposition to the age limit amendment has come from all quarters. Four-time opposition presidential contender Dr. Kizza Besigye has made a series of statements, taking to Facebook to declare, “The people of Uganda are definitely closing in to take back their power and embark on a TRANSITION to a new dispensation.” The opposition Forum for Democratic Change, Democratic Party and Conservative Party have condemned the move while youth from the three parties are behind a pro-age limit campaign dubbed Nchi Yetu (“our country” in Swahili).

Somewhat less predictably, members of the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM) youth league have also rallied around a campaign against the proposed changes, leading to their hasty arrest. More concerning still, from the President’s perspective, is the opposition to the age limit amendment amongst his own rank-and-file MPs. A survey of parliamentarians conducted last year by the civil society network CCEDU with the support of NDI pointed to high levels of unease over the then anticipated move to scrap age limits. Of the 185 respondents (from a randomly selected sample of 196), 73 percent said they would not support a constitutional amendment on age limits. This included a large majority of NRM MPs (65 percent) while Opposition and Independent MPs were overwhelmingly against (97 and 81 percent respectively). Interestingly, MPs from the NRM’s traditional strongholds, the Western and Central regions, were most likely to oppose an amendment. A more recent and less systematic effort to survey MPs spearheaded by the independent Observer newspaper reveals an enduring, lukewarm attitude towards the proposed changes within the NRM.

The various pro-age limit campaigns now emerging, including those supported by a range of civil society organizations, have no intention of letting legislators off the hook. Activists have been circulating the phone numbers and emails of legislators, imploring voters, “Tell them we [want] the clause to remain intact. That one call, that email, that text message may be key in defining the destiny of our country.”

Yet however strong the pushback, it is also clear the President’s camp has its own plan. Indeed, whereas Museveni has repeatedly insisted he was “not interested in age limit talk”, his supporters launched a series of semi-coordinated actions shortly after the 2016 elections, the aim being to cultivate an appearance of grass-roots pressure for Museveni to stay. A number of NRM district conferences passed resolutions calling on MPs to lift presidential age limits. An NRM MP also tabled a private members bill in Parliament calling for the removal of age limits for judges. This was widely seen, though, as a ploy to start a debate during which the issue of presidential age limits could be introduced.

It remains part of the government strategy to present pressure for a constitutional change as originating outside of State House. In an article entitled “Don’t distort constitutional amendment debate”, the government spokesman affirmed, “the issue of age limit has been raised in various forums with many people openly urging President Museveni to stay on and complete what they deem unfinished business.” Even as Museveni enacts the role of disinterested bystander, though, internal manoeuvring continues to intensify.

The plan to introduce legislation to Parliament was apparently adopted after a proposed constitutional referendum was deemed too risky.[1] Charged with mobilising their colleagues is a small group of loyal MPs who have been actively advocating for the proposed amendment in the corridors of  Parliament. There are also plans, according to one MP, “to go district by district, convincing councils to pass resolutions, which the MPs will be compelled to support.” This “convincing” will not depend on the NRM leaders’ powers of persuasion alone. Reports are filtering through that the police and military will receive more equipment to crack down on popular protest. At the same time, a large campaign war chest has been amassed, leading NRM heavyweights to jostle over who will act as campaign coordinator and thereby control associated patronage resources. Some of the money is already reportedly earmarked, including: (a) for NRM MPs, who will receive USh3m (roughly £650) per caucus meeting, although there are also rumours in Parliament that MPs may demand a total of as much as Ush300m each;[2] (b) for as yet unpaid members of the NRM Central Executive Committee, who will start receiving a salary USh25 (£5,400) per month, close to that of the highest paid civil servants and larger than the total pay package of an MP; and, (c) for members of the National Executive Committee, who will receive USh9m (nearly £2,000) per month.

Through a combination of coercion and money, Museveni’s camp still seems likely to succeed in pressuring Parliament into removing presidential age limits. The extent of opposition along with the elaborate and costly plans to overcome it nevertheless speak to Museveni’s increasingly strained hold on power. In 2005, it took a one-off, Ush5m bribe to get MPs to scrap term limits, a move which was at the time shocking and now seems almost pedestrian. The campaign to remove term limits was also fraught, but it came before the rate of patronage inflation reached the current, dizzying heights.

Hovering above the current struggle is the question of what will become of the NRM’s legacy, and thus what lies in Uganda’s political future.[3] After first seizing power in 1986, Museveni promised “fundamental change” and later oversaw a constitutional review process, which was at the time praised by many. The accolades have long since petered out, leaving prominent figures like Kizza Besigye to denounce the increasing personalisation of power under the NRM, quipping, “President Museveni has turned himself into the Constitution.” Museveni’s own supporters are hardly reassuring on this point, with one MP insisting, “The person who has managed to build all [the] institutions is Museveni. If he has built the institutions, which have ensured that the country is stable, why should he be denied the chance to continue leading the country?” It is unclear what exactly is distinctive about “institutions” when they are presumed to come from—and seemingly also to depend on—a single individual.

Ultimately, given the kind of political order Museveni has cultivated, it is now easier to imagine a scenario whereby the age limit is scrapped and he continues as President than it is to imagine the alternative. Should the age limit remain, the ensuing succession battle could easily fracture the NRM, as has happened to numerous other dominant parties.[4] Opposition contenders, most obviously Besigye, could have another go at winning an election in 2021. But it is hard to picture Museveni—or, crucially, the military upon which he has focused so much of his energy—accepting a Besigye win. Indeed, as has proved the case in Uganda’s past, should Parliament resist executive pressure, the balance of power would likely lie with the security forces. But then they too contain their own internal factions.

In short, Museveni’s Uganda is one where, paradoxically, there would be far more political uncertainties introduced if the Constitution remained intact with age limits preserved. That’s in the short-term, of course, as lifting age limits only postpones the inevitable succession. Meanwhile, the many young Ugandans who have only ever known a Museveni presidency will, again, see their dream of a change deferred. And, to borrow a line from Langston Hughes, what happens to a dream deferred?[5]

 

UPDATE: On July 13th, the government surprised MPs by tabling in Parliament a Constitutional (Amendment) Bill, which unlike the promised omnibus bill, addresses only one issue, and not age limits but land. As explained by the Deputy Attorney General, the amendment will enable the compulsory acquisition of land for “development” with government compensating private land owners and taking over the land immediately, thereby circumventing what is now a lengthy process of negotiation over what compensation is due. This proposed amendment is extremely controversial in its own right, which explains why it has remained stalled on the government’s to-do list since the 1990s. What’s more, the government has by no means given up on its aim to introduce an omnibus bill. The Deputy AG made it clear that the much-awaited bill, containing an amended Article 102(b) on the age limit, will come to parliament later this year.

[1] This comes after last year’s election results were hotly contested amidst allegations of rigging. A 2017 Afrobarometer survey, moreover, had 75 percent of respondents declaring they would prefer to see presidential age limits maintained.

[2] Such astronomical payouts seem unlikely to materialise, although some form of bribe-for-votes will be necessary. And this despite the NRM Chief Whip’s strident claims that, “You can’t survive if you approach me to say I give you money to do your work to which [sic] you were elected. […] You imagine, unless this is something else not parliament, to approach the chief whip and say, ‘unless you give this much – Shs300m for us – we’re not going to Kyankwanzi [location of NRM Caucus retreats]’. How?! How can you tell me such nonsense? It is criminal, it is illegal, it is unethical, it is unwise.” The Office of the Chief Whip is known to routinely dole out money, however, making these principled objections somewhat less credible.

[3] Beyond Uganda, the push to strip away any remaining fetters on presidential power fits in with a regional trend. Rwanda recently scrapped constitutional term limits for President Paul Kagame. An NRM delegation more recently went on a fact-finding mission to Burundi where President Pierre Nkurunziza’s ill-fated efforts to circumvent term limits led to a spike in violence, adding to the number of internally displaced people and refugees. In a kind of authoritarian-style “benchmarking” exercise, the aim of the NRM delegation was to learn from Nkurunziza’s mistakes and to avert a similar outcome in Uganda.

[4] For instance, KANU in 2002.

[5] Langston Hughes poem, Harlem (“What happens to a dream deferred?)

Roger Lee Huang – A short guide to Myanmar’s Disciplined Democracy

This is a guest post by Roger Lee Huang, Academic Tutor, Macquarie University and Research Affiliate, Southeast Asia Research Centre, City University of Hong Kong.

After nearly five decades of  largely uninterrupted authoritarian military rule in Myanmar, Thein Sein was elected President on March 30, 2011, and officially began the process of transforming the state into what the 2008 Constitution refers to as a “disciplined multi-party” democratic system. Under the Constitutional framework, passed in a dubious referendum in May 2008, the president “takes precedence over all other persons throughout the Republic” and serves as both head of state and head of government. In contrast with Thein Sein, who was a particularly visible and active figure during his tenure, the incumbent, President Htin Kyaw, despite his constitutional powers, commands no real authority, and has a limited profile. Instead, formal state authority is asymmetrically split between the country’s powerful military, while the Htin Kyaw administration is ipso facto commanded by the State Counsellor, Aung San Suu Kyi.

Under Aung San Suu Kyi’s leadership the National League for Democracy’s (NLD), had previously rejected any attempt to join the military’s transition plan, and as recent as 2010, boycotted the country’s elections. However, a few months after dissolution of the junta, an olive branch offered by President Thein Sein began the process of reconciliation with Suu Kyi, paving the way for the NLD’s participation in the 2012 by-elections. This process enabled the military to consolidate its envisioned “disciplined multi-party” democracy.

Contrary to conventional presidential systems, Myanmar’s disciplined multi-party democracy was specifically designed to divide state authority between the military and elected civilian parties. Constitutionally, it is not the elected civilian President but the Commander-In-Chief, an active military officer that has direct control of the country’s military forces, including the police and all paramilitary units. In the legislative branch, twenty-five percent of the seats in the bicameral National Parliament are composed of active military officers directly appointed by the Commander-In-Chief. Further, irrespective of the electoral outcome, the country would always be governed by a coalition government, where the army is constitutionally mandated to play a permanent role in national politics, with direct authority over three key ministries – Defence, Home Affairs, and Border Affairs. As a final safeguard to ensure this system is sustained, amendments to key provisions of the Constitution must meet a high threshold, which ensures that any changes to the political role of the military can only feasibly materialize with the approval of the military. In short, under Myanmar’s “democratic” system, the military remains insulated from civilian oversight, and continues to disproportionally play an expansive political role in the administration of the state.

Just days before the November 8, 2015 elections, Aung San Suu Kyi had declared that in the event of an NLD electoral victory, she would be “above the president” despite Article 59 (f) of the Constitution specifically prohibiting her from the presidency based on her offspring’s foreign citizenships. The President is elected by an Electoral College composed of three groups of parliamentarians (the House of Nationalities, the House of Representatives, and military-appointed MPs). The landslide electoral victory meant that the NLD had enough votes to ensure that the next President of the Republic, and at least one of the country’s two Vice Presidents would be an NLD nominee. The relatively unknown Htin Kyaw was elected President based on the understanding that he would faithfully serve as proxy for Aung San Suu Kyi. Just days after Htin Kyaw’s inauguration, the NLD-dominated parliament was able to push through legislation establishing the new position of State Counsellor, specifically engineered to allow Aung San Suu Kyi to serve as the de facto leader of the NLD-led government, giving her prime-minister like powers. Along with taking on various ministerial positions, Suu Kyi also effectively appointed herself as Foreign Minister, the only legal path that would allow her membership of the country’s National Defence and Security Council, the highest institution composed of eleven members that determine all defence and security affairs.

It has been over a year since the advent of the Aung San Suu Kyi-led coalition government, and many of the country’s woes have intensified under the current administration. While much of Myanmar’s problems are historically rooted and structurally entrenched, the NLD-led administration has made little or no effort to overcome the legacy of military authoritarianism. In fact, the Aung San Suu Kyi-led government has increasingly replicated the actions of its military predecessors.

Press freedom has lapsed significantly, with a rise in defamation cases filed against social media users and journalists under the notorious section 66(d) of the Telecommunications Law of 2013. The NLD’s parliamentary majority has the ability to amend this legislation, yet Aung San Suu Kyi and her officials have made little or no effort to do so, and have remained largely silent in the face of continued persecutions against journalists. In effect, the government defended the actions of the military after they arrested three journalists in June using the colonial-era Unlawful Associations Act of 1908.

Unite Nations officials who planned a fact-finding mission in response to increased violence in the restive Rakhine State, had their visas denied by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, a ministry under the direct control of Aung San Suu Kyi. Further fighting continues in the Shan State with the emergence of a Northern Alliance composed of four armed ethnic groups, while the military has also expanded its offensive against the Kachin Independence Organization in the Kachin State. The NLD government’s ability to negotiate and build peace through its much-touted Panglong-21 Conference remains doubtful, and beyond occasional symbolic victories, has so far shown no evident, concrete results.

Lastly, despite the United States finally lifting all remaining economic sanctions in October 2016, the initial rush of foreign investors has dropped, and economic growth in Myanmar has slowed.

The NLD may have won an election, and was able to install Aung San Suu Kyi in a position of power; the reality is that the military’s constitutional system remains unscathed and unchallenged. Even with the NLD’s huge electoral mandate and despite the popularity of Suu Kyi, the NLD was unable to amend Article 59 (f) of the Constitution, and have instead, avoided a constitutional crisis by manoeuvring within the confines of the military’s constitutional framework. Although the 2008 Constitutional system has created a new political reality where the military voluntarily shares state authority with a popularly elected civilian government, this is and has always been the military’s version of democracy – one where its civilian politicians are restricted in their control of the country’s bureaucracy and do not command absolute state power. Now in its sixth year as a disciplined “flourishing” democracy, the political clout of the military remains undiminished. The military remains the ultimate guardian of “national unity” and there remains no indication that the “disciplined” features of Myanmar’s democracy would be negotiable in the foreseeable future.

Guy Burton and Ted Goertzel – Presidential Leadership in the Americas since Independence

This is a guest post from Guy Burton and Ted Goertzel about their new book, Presidential Leadership in the Americas since Independence, available to buy here.

What makes a president ‘great’ and which have been the ‘great’ ones in the Americas? These were the main questions we sought to answer in our book, Presidential Leadership in the Americas since Independence (Lexington Books, 2016). We sought to extend the work of the US presidential scholar, Stephen Skowronek, who developed the concept of ‘political time’. For Skowronek (1993, 2011), the US political system appears stable on the surface, supported as it is by an unchanging constitution, clear separation of powers and a two-party system. But that doesn’t mean that turbulence has been absent. Since the republic’s foundation in 1789, the US political system has faced periodic periods of upheaval with those presidents best placed to tackle them regarded as the most outstanding.

Skowronek’s institutionalist account of presidential leadership combines both structure (including its opportunities and constraints) and human agency and distinguishes between four types of presidential actor: transformative individuals were those who adeptly exploited a crisis by setting down a new political order that might last generations. Those that succeeded them would be one of two types: either those who supported and consolidated that order (i.e. articulative) or challenged it – but find it too strong to break down (pre-emptive). Over time though, the parameters of the political order and its support base might erode, making it more susceptible to change. In such cases, those who tried to maintain and reconstitute it, but failed to do so were disjunctive; those who succeeded in replacing it with a new order were transformative.

As Latin Americanists, we were curious how ‘political time’ might be applied to our more visibly tumultuous region – and through it to identify those presidents who were transformational, or ‘great’. To identify ‘greatness’ we made use of two approaches. One was to conduct a survey of outstanding leaders in the US and Latin America. We calculated the average number of mentions for political leaders across North and South America based on an analysis of their mentions in a number of commonly used textbooks for the history and politics of the two regions (Skidmore, Smith and Green 2014, Williamson 2009, Eakin 2007, Keen and Hayes 2004, Jenkins 2012, Remini 2009, Sinclair 1999, Schweikart and Allen 2004, Zinn 2005). We were encouraged that our findings for the US case tallied closely with previous efforts to rank US presidents; we were therefore confident that our Latin American findings were similarly accurate although no other surveys have been done.

The other was to extract from the historical literature a description of the cycles of political regime change in each country. Many scholars have observed cyclical changes in the political climate in United States and European history. We extended this analysis to Latin America. We noted that transformational/great leaders tended to emerge at a time of crisis in the political climate. This uncertainty enabled them to innovate by creating a new economic and social order underpinned by a broad political consensus. But importantly, the new order needed to be lasting, surviving beyond the political (and perhaps biological) lifetime of a given president.

Like Skowronek we wanted to be broad in our historical approach. But we also recognized that it was important to compare leaders with others who confronted comparable historical challenges. : The scale and scope of George Washington’s eighteenth century presidency is not exactly comparable with that of George Bush’s twenty-first century version, for example. We found that there were four historical eras in the political development of the Americas which presented leaders with similar social and economic frameworks that constrained their actions.

The first historical era, independence and its aftermath, required establishing a new political order. The second was the era of national consolidation, in which the new political order was dominated by the influence of landed and agrarian elites. Their position came under challenge towards the end of the nineteenth century when industrialists became more prominent – and eventually aligned themselves with key agents in national bureaucracies and military forces to institute an era of state-led development. From the 1930s to the 1970s this alliance held sway until economic dislocation and inefficiency coupled with social disconnection prompted a re-evaluation by intellectuals and politicians: the contemporary era of neoliberal globalization. The political systems that operated were constrained by these historical conditions, but success in confronting them was not guaranteed. Few are the presidents or political leaders who did not seek to leave their mark, but not all were successful. To consider a transformational president successful, we insisted that innovations he brought about be long lasting.  Several instituted important changes, but the changes did not last after them. This includes the Diaz and Rosas dictatorships in Mexico and Argentina respectively.

Having established the framework, we then examined the successes and failures of specific presidents as they struggled to introduce lasting political innovations in the eight American republics: : the US, Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, Chile, Mexico, Peru and Venezuela. Using histories at a regional and country level, we identified 20 presidents, over four historical eras, who succeeded in being ‘transformational’:

  • In the independence era we concluded there was only one: George Washington (US).
  • In the era of national consolidation we identified Ramón Castilla (Peru), Benito Juárez (Mexico), Pedro II (Brazil), Diego Portales (Chile), Rafael Reyes (Colombia) and Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln (both US).
  • In the era of state development we concluded that Lázaro Cárdenas (Mexico), Fidel Castro (Cuba), Juan Gómez (Venezuela), Raúl Haya de la Torre (Peru), Juan Perón (Argentina), Getúlio Vargas (Brazil) and Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt (both US) were transformational.
  • In the neoliberal era and after we suggested Fernando Henrique Cardoso (Brazil), Hugo Chávez (Venezuela), Augusto Pinochet (Chile) and Ronald Reagan (US).

Ours is the first effort to compile a list of transformational presidents of the America. We hope it will be the beginning of a dialogue that could make use of other methodological approaches in the study of presidentialism. One such would be to apply a quantitative approach to the experience of individual presidents, thereby echoing a trend we have observed in the study of US presidentialism in recent decades (Mayer 2009, Moe 2009, Wood 2009).

References

Eakin, Marshall. 2007. The History of Latin America: Collision of Cultures. Basingstoke: Macmillan.
Jenkins, Philip. 2012. A History of the United States. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
Keen, Benjamin and Keith Hayes. 2004. A History of Latin America. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Ninth edition.
Mayer, Kenneth. 2009. Thoughts on the ‘Revolution’ in Presidential Studies. Presidential Studies Quarterly 39(4): 781-785.
Moe, Terry. 2009. The Revolution in Presidential Studies. Presidential Studies Quarterly 39(4): 701-724.
Remin, Robert. 2009. A Short History of the United States. New York: HarperCollins. Kindle edition.
Schweikart, Larry and Michael Allen. 2004. A Patriot’s History of the United States. New York: Sentinel.
Sinclair, Andrew. 1999. A Concise History of the United States. Stroud: Sutton Publishing Ltd.
Skidmore, Thomas, Peter Smith and James Green. 2014. Modern Latin America. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Skowronek, Stephen. 1993. The Politics Presidents Make: Leadership from John Adams to George Bush. Boston: Belknapp Press.
Skowronek, Stephen. 2011. Presidential Leadership in Political Time: Reprise and Reappraisal. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas. Second edition.
Williamson, Edwin. 2009. The Penguin History of Latin America. London: Penguin.
Wood, B. Dan. 2009. Pontificating about Moe’s Pontifications. Presidential Studies Quarterly 39(4): 805-818.
Zinn, Howard. 2005. A People’s History of the United States. New York: Harper Perennial.

Biographical notes

Guy Burton (@guyjsburton) is assistant professor at the Mohammed Bin Rashid School of Government in Dubai. He received his PhD in 2009 from the London School of Economics. His research interests in relation to Latin America are comparative politics and political sociology, as well as the politics of the left and right.

 

 

Ted Goertzel (tedgoertzel@gmail.com) is professor emeritus of sociology at Rutgers University in Camden, NJ. He has published biographies of Fernando Henrique Cardoso and Lula da Silva and is also known for research on homicide rates, conspiracy theories, social movements and on the misuse of regression analysis in social science research.

Marisa Kellam and Boldsaikhan Sambuu – Battulga Victory in Mongolia’s Presidential Election

This is a guest post by Marisa Kellam (Associate Professor) and Boldsaikhan Sambuu (Graduate Student) at the School of Political Science & Economics of Waseda University in Tokyo, Japan

Battulga Khaltmaa of the Democratic Party (DP) won Mongolia’s presidential run-off on July 7th.[1] He obtained 50.6 percent of the vote, narrowly winning the election but at the same time soundly defeating Enkhbold Miyegombo of the ruling Mongolian People’s Party (MPP).

Battulga came in first-place on June 26th, but did not secure an absolute majority in the three-way race with Enkhbold, the government’s candidate, and Ganbaatar Sainkhuu, a populist who was nominated by the Mongolian People’s Revolutionary Party. Thus, for the first-time in Mongolia, the presidential election was forced into a second-round.

Third-party candidates have competed in past presidential elections, but they have never garnered much support. Ganbaater attracted support from independents who voted against the MPP and DP duopoly that has dominated Mongolian politics since democratization. Comparison of geographically disaggregated results suggests that Ganbaatar’s voters favored Battulga in the second round. But independents also advocated for a “white vote,” or casting a blank ballot. Had neither candidate received the required absolute majority in the second round, the law would require parties to put forward different candidates in a new election. Blank votes accounted for over 8 percent of the total votes cast.

Economic populism wins

The presidential election took place in a context of precipitous economic decline in Mongolia following the global commodity bust and prior policy mistakes. The MPP government recently accepted a politically unpopular IMF bailout, agreeing to belt-tightening measures and thereby backtracking on many of the promises it had made in last year’s parliamentary election.

Battulga attacked the MPP for betraying its promises and framed this year’s election as a referendum on the bailout. During the campaign, Battulga suggested that he might reinstate a bill requiring revenues from foreign owned mines, including the giant Oyu-Tolgoi, to be funneled through Mongolian banks, which the IMF opposed. He proposed forgiving individual debt held by Mongolians and distributing dividend payments from the shares of a state owned coal mine Tavan Tolgoi to every citizen. Ganbaatar, the third-party candidate, also railed relentlessly against foreign ownership of local mines.

The opposition also played the ethnic card in their attacks on Enkhbold by calling him an “Erliiz”—a person of ethnic hybridityof Mongolian and Chinese mix. Many Mongolians subscribe to a primordialist belief of ethnicity, according to which the essence of someone’s identity is contained within that person’s blood. As a defiant critic of China and an unapologetic nationalist, Battulga adopted an implicitly Sinophobic slogan Mongol ylna, the meaning of which is open to interpretation:  Mongolia will triumph or a Mongol will triumph.

The revolution and the evolution of political parties

The Mongolian People’s Party—to use its current name—and the Democratic Party have dominated Mongolian politics since the first free and fair election of 1992. The MPP is the former communist party; between 1924 and 2010 it was called the Mongolian People’s Revolutionary Party. When the party dropped “revolutionary” from its name a dissenting faction usurped the revolutionary banner, forming a new party but adopting the former party name. Since last year’s parliamentary elections, the MPP has had full control of nearly all government institutions, barring the presidency. The MPP represents the more disciplined and mature political force in Mongolian politics, compared to the fraction-ridden opposition.

The Democratic Party traces its origins to the Mongolian Democratic Revolution of 1990. Many of its leaders were involved in the various pro-democracy forces that sought regime change in Mongolia. These forces ran as a coalition and won the parliamentary elections of 1996, stemming seven decades of uninterrupted one-party rule by the MPP (then called MPRP). Once in office, however, the coalition broke down due to factional in-fighting amid economic crisis and controversies involving allegedly corrupt privatization of public assets. In the subsequent presidential election, the incumbent president from the DP coalition lost to the MPP candidate. The MPP president and the DP controlled parliament clashed over the selection of prime minister and the formation of the cabinet. This power struggle paralyzed the operation of government for several months. In 2000, the MPP won a landslide victory and the losing democratic factions responded to their defeat by coalescing into the current Democratic Party.

The DP returned to power in 2012 at a time when Mongolia had seen record high growth, owing in large part, to high commodities prices and major foreign investment in mining projects. In a remarkably similar fashion to its first time in power, DP’s rule between 2012 and 2016 was characterized by factional struggle, economic slump, and controversial privatization of the Russian-Mongolian jointly owned Erdenet mine. Voters blamed the DP for the country’s economic ills and thoroughly rejected them at the polls last year.

In an effort to curtail the notorious infighting and regroup after their loss, the DP national party congress decided to hold a first-ever primary election to nominate a candidate for the presidential election. About 60 percent of all DP members participated (the DP counts more than 180,000 members nationwide) in the primary on May 3, 2017. The primary election was supposed to strengthen party discipline by letting the party members openly select a presidential candidate capable of uniting the factions. Instead, six DP leaders sought the party nomination and Battulga, a controversial and polarizing figure even within his own party, was able to defeat his rivals with far more experience and moderate views, even though he received only a third of the total votes cast in the DP primary.

Power struggles under semi-presidentialism

Following the transition to democracy, the 1992 Constitution created a semi-presidential system of government as a compromise, establishing a popularly-elected president who serves for a fixed 4-year term and a government comprised of a prime minister and cabinet that is responsible to parliament. The presidency is an important, but controversial, position in Mongolia’s semi-presidential system.[1]

The Mongolian president plays a primary role in foreign policy, chairs the National Security Council and serves as the Commander in Chief of the armed forces.

Also, the Mongolian president has coveted appointment powers which allows him to fill many positions in the Mongolian bureaucracy and name ambassadors and judges, including chief justices. The president also nominates the head of the Independent Authority Against Corruption, subject to parliamentary approval, and approves parliament’s nomination for the General Intelligence Agency. These presidential prerogatives may be particularly important to the current president-elect as these two institutions investigated Battulga for embezzlement during his stint as Minister of Industry and Agriculture between 2012 and 2014 and arrested his aids last year. This controversy led to the public falling out between Battulga and the outgoing DP president Elbegdorj, given his extensive influence over the country’s justice system and the IACA.

In addition, the president has the constitutional right to offer policy guidance to the cabinet and to sponsor and initiate legislation. The president has the power to veto bills passed by parliament, which requires two-thirds of MPs to override; given that the MPP controls 85 percent of parliament, Battulga’s veto power will not have much bite.

As readers of this blog are well aware, semi-presidentialism opens up the possibility of cohabitation where the president and prime minister are from different parties that have not formed a governing coalition. In Mongolia, the president is constitutionally designated as a non-partisan and apolitical “embodiment of national unity.” As such, Battulga will be required to forgo his party membership before taking the oath of office. However, only political parties represented in parliament are allowed to field candidates in presidential elections; this means Battulga will have a difficult task of remaining above partisan politics, while at the same time retaining enough influence and support within his party if he is to seek reelection. Despite the constitutional contradiction, de facto cohabitation has been common in Mongolia, and will continue given the outcome of this presidential election.

Under Mongolia’s semi-presidential constitution, the respective powers of the president and parliament in selecting the government have been subject to ongoing political disputes, legal reforms, constitutional amendment, and scholarly debate. Lkhamsuren Munkh-Erdene argues that Mongolia has been functioning like a typical parliamentary system since the 2000 constitutional amendments removed presidential discretion over the selection of the prime minister.  Yet, because the presidency is still directly elected, candidates seeking the office often have made ambitious and oversized promises to get elected (on this point, Battulga’s campaign was no different). This produces a mismatch between the voters’ expectation of an all-powerful president vis-a-vis what in reality the presidency is institutionally capable of and constitutionally empowered to do. As a result, confidence in the office of the president, which prior to the reform used to be higher than any other government branch, has declined dramatically. In opinion surveys, over 78 percent of respondents stated they have confidence in the presidency in 1997; that number dropped to 50 percent a decade later, before reaching an all-time low of 41 percent this year.

Although the MPP has the super-majority required to make changes to the constitution, it has so far hesitated to unilaterally push through any reforms. Major amendments in consideration include making the president appointed by parliament, rather than popularly elected, and stripping the president’s power to influence the cabinet, initiate legislation, and make judicial appointments. It remains to be seen whether defeat in this election will compel the MPP to pursue these or other constitutional amendments. The potential showdown with Battulga should raise Linzian-inspired concerns of democratic instability.

Strained democracy

All of the above points to looming economic and political crises in Mongolia. Although Mongolia lacks what scholars identify as prerequisites for the emergence and survival of liberal democracy, Mongolia’s “deviant” democracy inspires academics and policy-makers to praise the country as a democratic over-achiever and an oasis of democracy.

Nevertheless, the elections of this year and last year put more strain on Mongolia’s still relatively new democracy than it had ever experienced before.

While all previous DP presidential candidates were committed democrats and personally involved in the democratic transition, this cannot be said of Battulga, who entered politics relatively recently. Battulga ran a campaign that centered on his personality more than his party or program. Battulga’s supporters have likened him to the Russia’s Vladimir Putin, whose popularity in Mongolia seems to have risen in recent years. Public opinion surveys indicate that close to 70 percent of respondents say it is either “good” or “rather good” to have a strong leader who doesn’t have to bother with the parliament or elections.

Ganbaatar, in contrast, is a political opportunist, who has twice changed parties. He was one of the most popular politicians until a recent scandal revealed he had lied about his college degree and he lost his seat in parliament last year. In the middle of this year’s election, a video was released to the public that showed Ganbaatar accepting illicit campaign donations from a Korean national. The police authenticated the video; the case is pending investigation.

The opposition refrain against Enkhbold was that he is “turuus tursun bayan,” a popular Mongolian term referring to a corrupt insider who has gotten rich from embezzling the state. The refrain proved to be fatal in the context of growing wariness of voters following the Panama Papers’ revelations of off-shore accounts used by top Mongolian officials (not to mention several other political scandals).

A powerful anti-establishment narrative permeated this year’s presidential election, summarized by a Mongolian word for fog, manan, which is derived from combining the Mongolian abbreviations of the MPP and the DP, or “MAN” and “AN”, respectively. The MANAN narrative suggests that corrupt leaders from both major parties collude to exploit the country’s natural resources at the expense of Mongolian citizens.

The outcome of the presidential election gives no indication that the fog hanging over Mongolia’s semi-presidential democracy has lifted.

Notes

[1] For an excellent overview of Mongolia’s politics of semi-presidentialism, see Sophia Moestrup and Gombosurengiin Ganzorig’s chapter in Semi-Presidentialism Outside of Europe, edited by Robert Elgie and Sophia Moestrup, Routeledge 2007.

[1] It is custom to refer to individuals by their given name in Mongolia.

Piyadasa Edirisuriya – The rise and the grand fall of Mahinda Rajapaksa

This is a guest post by Piyadasa Edirisuriya from Monash Business School at Monash University. It is based on his recent article in Asian Survey

Mahinda Rajapaksha, former President of Sri Lanka became a member of parliament in 1970 as the youngest member of the parliament at that time. Rajapaksha climbed to the very top by becoming the President of Sri Lanka in 2005. However, during his presidency, many blamed the Rajapaksha regime for corruptions, nepotism and human rights violations. When Rajapaksha contested the presidency for the first time, he won 50.29% of the vote compared to his rival Ranil Wickramasinghe who received 48.43%. Following his election, he established his power all over the country by a number of ways. In the 2010 presidential election, Rajapaksha obtained 57.88% of the vote compared to the common opposition candidate Sarath Fonseka (an army commander who survived suicide an LTTE attack and fought the war to the end) who won only 40.15% of the vote. The significant number of votes obtained by Rajapaksha was mainly due to the war victory against the LTTE. Throughout his political life, Rajapaksha had an appeal for the majority of Sinhala people who live in rural parts of the country.

The 2010 election victory made Rajapaksha more powerful and popular than ever as he won by a significant margin. This win gave him more confidence to abuse power in a substantial way. He promoted himself as ‘the liberator of nation from terrorism’ and systematically began to supress anybody who challenged his position. He started this strategy by arresting his onetime army commander and presidential candidate General Sarath Fonseka. In fact, General Fonseka was the military commander who defeated the LTTE militarily. General Fonseka’s arrest was brutal as well as very quick. When the general public and some leading Buddhist monks attempted to protest against this arrest, Rajapaksha took swift actions to stop such protests.

With these victories in hand, Rajapaksha’s authority also grew because of the economic progress the country achieved during his time. It is evident from the Sri Lanka’s Central Bank Reports that the Rajapaksha’s period is one of the noteworthy growth for the country. Since 2001 per capita income GDP of Sri Lanka has been increasing gradually. In 2001, it was just US$841 and by 2013 it had increased to US$3,280. A significant improvement came in 2010 where it increased from US$2,057 in 2009 to US$2,400 in just one year.

Irrespective of economic growth, over the years Rajapaksha’s presidency was subject to many domestic and international criticisms. He appointed the largest Cabinet of Ministers in the world. In his first government (2005) there were 51 ministers and 29 deputy minsters. In 2007, Rajapaksha reshuffled the Cabinet and appointed even more people as ministers and deputy ministers. There were now 85 ministers and 20 deputy minsters. There were new ministers appointed by Rajapaksha whenever someone from the opposition crossed the floor to support the government. Most of these defections from the opposition were encouraged by Rajapaksha offering generous cabinet portfolios. (It is interesting to see that the current government headed by President Maithripala Sirisena also has 90 people as cabinet ministers, state ministers and deputy ministers.)

Another notable feature of the Rajapaksha administration was the offer of lucrative parliamentary, government and overseas portfolios to his family members. One of the most powerful figures was Rajapaksha’s younger brother Gotabhaya Rajapaksa, who was the Secretary of Defence in addition to some other positions. A retired army colonel, he was one of the main figures who directed the military campaigned against the LTTE until it was defeated in 2009. After retiring from the army, Gotabhaya left Sri Lanka to live in the United States and became a US citizen. When Rajapaksha became the President, Gotabhaya returned to Sri Lanka and was given the powerful position of the Secretary to the Defence portfolio. There was a bomb attack on Gotabhaya when he was travelling with security escorts in December 2006 when a suicide bomber of the LTTE tried to ram an explosive-laden three-wheeler into the vehicle in which the Defence Secretary was in. The LTTE’s so called Black Tiger attack did not kill Gotabhaya. He survived miraculously.

During Rajapaksha’s time, a number of his Cabinet and non-Cabinet ministers as well as member of parliaments were reported for corruption, irregularities, unnecessary political interferences, breaking rules, laws and regulations and unruly behaviour. However, Rajapaksha never took serious disciplinary action against his fellow politicians. When the media commenced reporting such abuses by politicians things went bad to worse.  While banning a number of electronic media organisations who were critical of his government, Rajapaksha used government media organisations in his propaganda campaign to attack his opponents.

During the Rajapaksha era, the independence of judiciary in Sri Lanka was a controversial issue. Among many issues, the removal of the Chief Justice by the Parliament (with Rajapaksha’s approval) was the most controversial.

The beginning of Rajapaksha’s fall could be linked to the change of the constitution by the Sri Lankan Parliament that allowed the President to contest the presidential election any number of times. The previous constitution of Sri Lanka limited the re-election of President to 2 times. Under the eighteenth amendment to the constitution of Sri Lanka passed by the parliament on the 8th September 2010, the sentence that mentioned ‘the limit of the re-election of the President’ in the original constitution passed in the 1978 was removed. This change was designed to allow Rajapaksha to keep on contesting for the Presidency for as long as he wished.

Another important reason for Rajapaksha’s demise was his superstitious nature. Calling a presidential election 2 years early on the 8th January, 2015 was purely based on astrologers’ predictions. This particular day was selected based on advice given by his personal astrologers. Rajapaksha could have easily be in the Presidency for 2 more years without any trouble. Irrespective of being a devoted Buddhist, one month before the 2015 presidential election, Rajapaksha went to South India where he offered worship at the famous Hindu hill shrine of Lord Venkateswara. All these activities showed an overreliance on astrology and religion that contributed partly to his demise. It is alleged that Rajapaksha was indirectly supporting extreme Buddhist organisations such as the Bodu Bala Sena (BBS). BBS was promoting anti-Muslim ideologies in the country and was behind the riots against Muslims in 2014. This caused many Muslims to vote against Rajapaksha in the 2015 presidential election. In fact, the majority of Muslims and Tamils voted against Rajapaksha during the 2015 Presidential election.

After the 2015 presidential election defeat, many believed that Rajapaksha had reached the end of his political career. However, he was not ready to accept the defeat. By using his close friends in the parliament he wanted to show that he was still a force to be reckoned with. Just before the parliamentary election in August 2015, he encouraged his allies to start an island-wide campaign asking new leaders of the SLFP to bring him back to politics. The new leader (President Maithripala Sirisena) initially announced that he was not going to allow Rajapaksha to contest the general election, but he could not resist the pressure from his own party members. As a result, Rajapaksha was elected from the Kurunagala District and is now a member of parliament. His son also won from the Hambantota District.

Rajapaksha was the first Sri Lankan President to lose power in an election. In addition, Rajapaksha is the first President in the country to be a mere member of parliament after ruling the country for two consecutive periods. This demonstrates that he has not given up hope. In the future, he may be able to run the show directly or indirectly once again. He has his own parliamentary group called “Joint Opposition” and has plans to establish a new political party. Once it is created, he may become the leader again and keep doing what he planned many years ago. The growing unpopularity of the current regime has become a blessing in disguise for Rajapaksha and sooner or later he will be the ‘king’ again.