Monthly Archives: February 2018

Continuity and Change: Presidential Succession in Southern Africa

At the risk of using a tired cliché, it would appear that the winds of change are blowing across Southern Africa. On Wednesday 14 February 2018, South Africans awoke to the news that there had been a dawn raid on the Saxonwold compound – derisorily referred to as the ‘Saxonwold Shebeen’ – owned by the Gupta family, close friends of President Jacob Zuma. It was the clearest sign yet that the president’s powers had faltered and his time was drawing to a rapid close. Having lost the succession battle at the ANC’s elective congress in December 2017, speculation had been brewing that he would soon be removed by the ruling party. With most of his friends and allies having shifted positions to the new sheriff in town – newly-elected ANC President Cyril Ramaphosa – Zuma’s days in the presidential residence seemed to be numbered. On 13 February, after more than a week of negotiations between Zuma and Ramaphosa, the ANC National Executive Committee formally requested that Zuma resign the presidency, in an apparent repeat of Zuma’s 2008 removal of former President Thabo Mbeki. They gave him until midnight on 14 February to do so. In a late-night address, Zuma resigned on Valentine’s day; Ramaphosa was sworn in less than 20 hours later.

On South Africa’s northern border, events in Zimbabwe have also heralded spectacular changes. Following the November ‘soft coup’ that removed Robert Mugabe from power after 37 years at the helm, new President Emerson Mnangagwa has spent three months on a major marketing drive, trying to convince the region and the world at large that he is setting Zimbabwe on a new course. The UK has been eager to re-engage, with several high-profile visits to Harare, and moves suggesting that the country will soon re-join the Commonwealth. But having been burnt before by promises and intransigence on the part of the ruling party, all eyes are on the general elections to be held later this year. The full normalisation of relations with Harare is largely contingent on the holding of a ‘fair’ and peaceful election. But the same day that Jacob Zuma was facing down a recall by his party, 65-year old Zimbabwean opposition veteran Morgan Tsvangirai passed away in a Johannesburg hospital. Despite his two-year battle with colon cancer, Tsvangirai had been tipped as the presidential candidate for the opposition’s 7-party coalition, due to fight the upcoming elections in less than six months’ time. The week prior to his death was marred by a very public succession battle between the MDC-T’s three vice presidents – something that will no doubt hurt the party and the coalition’s electoral prospects. The Zimbabwean opposition’s prospects look dire – Tsvangirai’s unmatched public profile and failure to pick a successor has left the coalition rudderless, while changes instituted by Mnangagwa have taken the bite out of the opposition’s ‘change’ mantra. It’s unclear whether the fractious opposition can regroup, rebrand, paper over their squabbles and develop a positive messaging platform in the months before the looming polls.

Meanwhile, change is also afoot in the rest of the region. Botswanan President Ian Khama announced that he will be handing over power in April 2018. Khama, the son of Botswana’s independence President Seretse Khama, is stepping down after ten years at the helm. When he steps down, the Vice President, Mokgweetsi Masisi, will automatically succeed him until the 2019 general elections. But Masisi won’t necessarily be the ruling party’s candidate for those elections as the party will go to a special elective congress in 2019 where several high profile government leaders have thrown their hat in the ring to succeed him. In Angola – Southern Africa’s largest oil producing nation – President José Eduardo dos Santos handed over power in 2017 after 38 years at the head of the country’s ruling MPLA, after anointing his successor, João Lourenço. When Lourenço won the August elections, few predicted that he would follow through on his promises to clean up the MPLA and the state. However, in a shock move, he removed the former president’s daughter – Isabel dos Santos – from her position at the head of the state-owned oil producer Sonangol. Lourenço also removed the heads of police and intelligence, governor of the Central Bank, head of the country’s diamond company and the boards of all three state-owned media companies, as well as dos Santos’ son who was head of the country’s sovereign wealth fund.

However, despite all the apparently positive changes across the region and some significant reasons for optimism, there is a need to maintain a cautious stance. In Angola, many remain sceptical of Lourenço’s moves, arguing that it resembles a “dança das cadeiras” – a ‘dance of chairs’ or little more than a reshuffling of the political deck. Whispers in Gabarone suggest that Ian Khama is hoping to position his brother, Tshekedi Khama, to take up the presidency. Having tried to anoint his brother in 2014 (after making him a Cabinet minister in 2012), but facing outright revolt from the ruling party, Khama backtracked. But he has one more chance to secure the dynasty in the ruling party’s special congress next year. If he is successful, three of five of independent Botswana’s presidents would be from the Khama family. In Zimbabwe, following the possible collapse of meaningful opposition in the wake of Tsvangirai’s death, Mnangagwa may feel little pressure to make substantial changes to the state, and will instead continue along the well-worn path that ZANU-PF has tread for nearly four decades.

As for Ramaphosa, he is riding high on a wave of public optimism and international goodwill, but he will need to prove that he is serious about rooting out corruption in the state by removing Zuma’s key backers through whom public finances were so wantonly squandered and misappropriated. But over the longer term, serious questions remain over whether Ramaphosa’s business- and market-friendly approach will be sufficiently flexible to make the necessary policy changes to tackle the country’s burgeoning inequality and mass joblessness. With the possibility of a Congolese election (or mass uprising in the absence of an election) at the end of 2018, what is certain is that the Southern African region will look very different at the end of 2018 to how it looked just more than a year before. But it remains to be seen whether these changes will be thoroughgoing, or if it will be little more than a dança das cadeiras.

Poland – Is the presidency going down the Hungarian path?

Over the last years, I have chronicled (and lamented) the descent of the Hungarian presidency  during the Orbán government from promising check-and-balance into political irrelevance. After an initial phase of constructive presidential activism in which incumbent Janos Áder used his powers in an attempt to improve legislation, he subsequently failed to criticise any of the government’s controversial reforms and used his veto power and right to request judicial review on fewer and fewer occasions. Three years after the election of a Law and Justice (PiS) president and government in Poland, it appears that the Polish presidency is going down the Hungarian path. Despite the added legitimacy and independence through a direct electoral mandate, president Andrzej Duda has done little to balance the increasingly illiberal policies of the government. Although he has not remained entirely inactive, his activism is geared towards re-election and democratic window-dressing, rather than becoming a real check-and-balance.

Photo via prezydent.pl

When the 42 year-old MEP Andrzej Duda was elected president in May 2015, it was easy to portray him as little more than a puppet of PiS party leader Jaroslaw Kaczynski. After the parliamentary election in the autumn of the same year produced an absolute majority for PiS (for which Kaczynski has as of yet not taken an official seat on the front bench), Duda was complicit in the unconstitutional appointment of several judges to the Constitutional Tribunal (having previously refused to swear in judges that had been originally – and legally – appointed) and failed to step in when the government subsequently refused to publish the Tribunal’s judgement on the unconstitutionality of these actions. Up until last summer, president Duda failed to condemn any of the reforms of the Polish government, which resulted in the European Union’s decision to trigger Article 7 (a formal warning an possibility of disciplinary procedures) in December 2017.

In July 2017 president Duda vetoed two controversial judicial reforms that would have given the government near complete control over the judiciary. Nevertheless, as I argued at the time, the vetoes were little more than democratic window-dressing and inevitable due to national and international pressure after it emerged that the Senate had passed bills in different versions than the lower chamber. Duda’s vetoes caused friction with the PiS government and then Prime Minister Beata Szydlo as well as a number of other co-partisans accused him of hampering ‚improvements’ to the country’s legal system. Nevertheless, it is without question that these reforms will reappear in other forms and Duda will sign them off. The vetoes can merely be seem as an attempt to ‚save face‘ and means to appease critical voters in a bid to secure re-election in 2020.

President Duda’s signature under the so-called Holocaust bill, a law that seeks to punish those who accuse Poland or Poles of complicity in the mass extermination of jews during WWII with up to three years in prison, shows the same pattern of self-interested activism. Duda signed the bill into law but also submitted the bill to the Constitutional Tribunal at the same time. Signing the bill will appease not only the core electorate of PiS but also a the majority of Poles who rightly object to the phrase ‘Polish death camps‘ that is still frequently used to label Nazi concentration camps in occupied Poland (the country’s embassies still regularly intervene when the phrase is used in the media). Simultaneously sending the law to the Constitutional Tribunal should be seen as a signal to those voters who fear a limitation of free speech. Nevertheless, a decision from the Tribunal could take 1-2 years and with the law in force, the government can already use it to silence its critics – after the cleansing of public media from critical journalists, it becomes another tool to suppress free speech. Interestingly, the same tactic was used by president Lech Kaczynski (the twin brother of party leader and then Prime Minister Jaroslaw) during the PiS governments in 2005-2007 with the exception that the Constitutional Tribunal was not yet staffed with loyal judges (who are unlikely to pronounce the law unconstitutional).

Thus, it appears that the Polish presidency is going down the Hungarian path, albeit with some variation. As Andrzej Duda needs public support to secure his re-election in 2020 he is more active (or at least more visibly) than his Hungarian colleague. Given the greater international attention paid to the situation in Poland compared to the one in Hungary (where the EU clearly failed to step in in time) and stronger domestic opposition, Duda also needs to be active to appease international and national critics. However, overall the Polish presidency is currently failing at its job as a check-and-balance on parliament and government. An altered parliamentary composition following the 2019 legislative elections or even a second term for Duda in 2020 may change the situation, yet for now we may need to declare a ‘presidency lost‘.

Adrián Albala – How Bicameralism patterns the formation and dissolution of coalitions in presidential regimes

This is a guest post by Adrián Albala, University of Brasilia, Brazil. Contact: adrian.albala@gmail.com. It is based on a paper published in the British Journal of Politics and International Relations

In recent years, there have been huge advances in coalition theories, particularly concerning coalitions in parliamentary systems. However, much of the literature dealing with coalitions under presidential regimes has tended limit itself to reproducing and importing models from the work on parliamentary regimes, without considering the particularities of presidentialism.

Three features of presidentialism may interfere with the coalition process. First, the main particularity of presidentialism is the “winner-takes-all” principle. This states that the election determines a clear winner.

This feature makes it almost impossible for there to be any surprise in identifying the president-elect[1]. This is quite different from most parliamentary regimes in which the identification of a clear winner may be more difficult, and the subsequent composition of the government is, often, very hard to predict. Indeed, under parliamentary regimes elections consist of a “photograph” that depicts the strength of each party or coalition in parliament in order to determine which will have a majority for forming a government. Figure 1 sets out this difference between the two processes.

Figure 1: Election processes in parliamentary regimes/ presidential regimes

The example of Belgium in 2011-2012, where negotiations lasted almost a year and a half, during which the country had no formal government, constitutes a paradigmatic example of this feature. However, this is a recurrent feature of parliamentary politics and has happened = again in Belgium (2015), but also in the UK (2010), Ireland (2016), Spain (2016-17), Germany (2017-18), Italy (2013) and Greece (2014-2015).

The second particularity of presidentialism is the principle of the presidential mandate. This implies that both the inauguration and the conclusion of the presidential mandate are settled by the constitution. This supposes that on the day of the inauguration of the presidency the president has to have his government formed. Moreover, the termination of the mandate should not, theoretically, be dependent on a majority (re)alignment in the congress. Recent events in Brazil have shown that this principle is not deterministic: a president can be impeached for political and opportunistic motivations.

Finally, the third particularity of presidential regimes is symmetrical bicameralism. As a matter of fact, bicameral congresses under presidentialism used to be symmetric, i.e. both chambers used to have the same powers and attributes. This is quite different from parliamentary regimes, where most of the upper chambers – except in Italy – have a mere consultative role.

This is of particular importance as bicameralism supposes a two-round procedure in the policymaking process for the president, thus increasing what Lupia and Strøm (2008) call “the shadow of the unexpected”. For this reason, it is reasonable to state that for those polities with a bicameral congress, holding a bicameral majority is a relevant condition for both the policymaking process and coalition governance (Hiroi and Rennó 2014). By the same token, controlling only one of the two chambers by the president might not be sufficient to ensure that policies get approval, or even to guarantee the survival of the coalition.

When considering coalition cabinet formation and dissolution, I argue that this third particularism is strongly linked to the first two. Indeed, for too long, scholars have studied coalitions under presidential regimes as they did under parliamentarism: assuming that the executive needed to look for allies in only one chamber. However, symmetric bicameralism makes such an assumption untenable. In fact, bicameralism, particularly symmetrical bicameralism in presidential regimes, may contain significant constraints for policymaking and coalition duration. Indeed, controlling one of the two chambers may not be sufficient for the president to ensure policy approval.

This misconsideration is particularly true when reviewing the literature about coalition cabinets under presidential regimes. More particularly, an important number of works have modeled the president’s ability to govern based on his/her legislative strength, or on the distribution of portfolios following Gamson’s law (i.e based on the proportionality principal of the strength of each party in the legislative branch), also known as “coalition congruence”. However almost every study dealing with this issue has measured the legislative strength or coalition congruence, based only on their observation of the lower chamber. In other words, almost no study has ever considered the upper chamber (i. e the Senate) as a relevant actor in the coalition process. We need to consider both bicameralism and bicameral majorities as relevant variables for the understanding of coalition cabinets under presidential regimes. The only work on this topic in parliamentary regimes reaches contradictory conclusions (Eppner and Ganghof 2016; Druckman et al. 2005; Diermeier et al. 2007; Druckman and Thies 2002)

This is what this paper tries to explore, focusing on Latin American presidential regimes that have experienced coalition cabinets.

First of all, half of Latin American countries (9/18) have a bicameral legislature. Bicameralism is not a trivial issue. This number is even higher if we compute every government since the third wave of democratization in the region, which began in 1979. Indeed, I have considered 134 governments in the region, i.e., cabinets following electoral processes. Of these, 54.47% (74) were formed in bicameral polities.

Moreover, when focusing on the occurrence of coalition cabinets, the relevance of bicameralism becomes even more central. Indeed, based on a strict but common definition of coalition cabinets (see Albala 2016), I have computed 31 newly formed coalition cabinets since 1980. That is 31 cabinets that were coalitions on the day of the president assumed office (See Table 1).

Of those 31 coalitions, 29 (93,5%) were formed in bicameral polities. Only Ecuadorian coalitions were formed in polities with a unicameral congress. In other words, for every ten coalitions to be formed in Latin American presidential regimes, more than nine occurred in polities with a bicameral congress. Why has no-one ever considered this feature?

The bicameral condition

I stated above that bicameral congresses under presidential regimes used to be symmetric, that is to say that the two houses (House of Deputies and the Senate) used to share similar attributes and powers. Thus, to ensure governability, a president-elect prefers to enjoy a bicameral majority rather than a partial majority (only one chamber) or no majority.

I have stated also the principle of a fixed presidential mandate. The president’s mandate not only concerns the end of the administration but also the beginning. Thus, the process of cabinet formation under presidentialism is limited in time, running from the proclamation of the result of the election to the inauguration day, generally fixed by the constitution. This feature supposes that the president will have formed his/her cabinet by inauguration.

Then, in order to determine how the combination of those two features (bicameralism + fixed mandate) may affect the coalition formation process, I compared the parliamentary strength of the coalitions after the election day of the president, with their strength at inauguration day.

We may, thus, theoretically, expect that presidents-elect who could not get a bicameral majority on the day of their election would seek to enlarge their parliamentary support including newcomers to their electoral alliance.

Results and findings

In Table 2, I identify 29 presidents-elect, comparing their legislative strength at election day with their strength at inauguration day. I simplified the operationalization of the legislative strength into three categories: i) no presidential majority at all ; ii) a legislative majority in one House; and, iii) a bicameral majority.

The data clearly confirms the hypothesis. Indeed, only 37.93% (11/29) of the presidents-elect had a bicameral majority (2) at election day. Nevertheless, the rate raises at 65.6% (19/29) at inauguration day, indicating that 8 presidents-elect proceeded to open negotiations with other parties to form a coalition or enlarge their electoral coalition. In other words, 8 presidents-elect who could not obtain a bicameral majority via the election, decided to include new members before their inauguration in order to get a bicameral majority. Conversely, the rate of minority coalitions (full or partial) fell from 62,06% ( 0= 31,03% + 1= 31.03%) to 34,4% (10,3% +24,13%).

Additionally, among the presidents who failed to obtain bicameral majorities, the first three Chilean presidents since the return of democracy (Aylwin, Frei and Lagos) had to deal with a particular constitutional feature inherited from the Pinochet rule: the existence of 9 designated senators, mostly from the military forces, who prevented the government from reaching a majority in the Senate.

By contrast, the data shows that bicameralism has been a central feature for presidents-elect who were not able to reach a bicameral majority while running alone. Indeed, among the three cases that ran alone on election day, all of them negotiated with new partners and achieved a bicameral majority.

In the cases where the length of time between election day and and inauguration day is longer – Uruguay and Brazil – there was a high degree of coalition enlargement and only one president-elect failed to achieve a bicameral majority (Lula I). However, among the polities with the shortest of time between election day and and inauguration day we can distinguish between Bolivian presidents-elect who have always managed to obtain a bicameral majority and Argentinian presidents-elect, who led coalition cabinets, but who have never enjoyed majorities in the two houses. Therefore, the timing condition deserves further attention.

We also found that in the cases where president-elect won a majority in only one chamber, the chamber in which the president-elect was unable to reach a majority was systematically the Senate. Hence, the upper chamber seems to be harder to conquer for presidents. This finding should also open a new line of investigation.

Finally, we also found that a bicameral majority makes it easier for the coalition governance generally and, thus, constitutes a sufficient, but not necessary, condition for enduring coalition agreements.

In this work, I have highlighted the need to adapt the study of coalition cabinets under presidential regimes to the particularities of such regimes. Indeed, I have shown out that presidentialism has a critical impact on the timing of the coalition formation process. Moreover, bicameralism is a central feature for the presidents-elect. These elements, in turn, open up new fields of study. For instance, no study has ever considered the role of the vice-president. However, vice-presidents can play a key role, especially when when (e.g. Argentina, Uruguay, and Venezuela) they are also the chair of the upper house.

Notes

[1] There are, however, some exceptions. For example, Bolivia used to have a system that could lead to “surprises”. Indeed until 2008, when no candidate reached the absolute majority, the run off used to take place in parliament leading to parliamentary bargains. Sometimes, the president-elect was not the one who won the plurality at the popular election.

References

Albala, A. (2016) Coalitions Gouvernementales et Régime Présidentiel. Sarbruken: Editions Universitaires Europ­éennes.

Diermeier D, Eraslan H, and Merlo A (2007) Bicameralism and Government Formation. Quarterly Journal of Political Science, 2(3): 227–252.

Druckman J N, Martin L, and Thies M (2005) Influence without Confidence: Upper Chambers and Government Formation. Legislative Studies Quarterly, 30(4): 529- 548.

Druckman JN., and Thies M (2002) The Importance of Concurrence: The Impact of Bicameralism on Government Formation and Duration. American Journal of Political Science, 46(4): 760-771.

Eppner S, and Ganghof S (2016) Institutional veto players and cabinet formation: The veto control hypothesis reconsidered. European Journal of Political Research. DOI: 10.1111/1475-6765.12172.

Eppner S, and Ganghof S 2015. Do (weak) upper houses matter for cabinet formation? A replication and correction. Research and Politics. 2(1): 1–5.

Hiroi T and Rennó L (2014) Dimensions of Legislative Conflict: Coalitions, Obstructionism, and Lawmaking in Multiparty Presidential Regimes. Legislative Studies Quarterly, 39(3): 357-386.

Lupia A and Strøm K (2008) Bargaining, Transaction Costs and Coalition Governance. In Strøm K, Müller W and Bergman T (eds) Cabinet and coalition bargaining. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 51-84.

Sarah Shair-Rosenfield and Alissandra T. Stoyan – Gendered Opportunities and Constraints: How Executive Sex and Approval Influence Executive Decree Issuance

This is a guest post by Sarah Shair-Rosenfield and Alissandra T. Stoyan. It is based on their paper in Political Research Quarterly.

Over the last two decades democracies worldwide have elected record-setting numbers of women presidents – in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Costa Rica, Liberia, Philippines, South Korean, and Taiwan to name just a few. One of the most frequently touted benefits of electing women to any office is the expectation that they tend to rely on or prefer a model of leadership based on negotiation and consensus-building. Indeed, that very quality is often highlighted by journalism about women’s political successes or sometimes promoted by women themselves.

Portrayals like this are typically built on the actions and behaviors of women legislators, or the behavior of legislatures with substantial proportions of female members. Legislatures may lend themselves to studies of gender and leadership styles or preferences because there are relatively more women legislators to evaluate. Legislatures also vary in the size of their female contingents, so it is possible to compare outcomes across different levels of female representation. Perhaps most importantly, it is also easier to understand why negotiation and consensus might be useful for governance: legislatures are themselves collective bodies that must form at least a majority to accomplish most tasks.

Conversely, it has been difficult for political scientists to study how leadership styles might translate to governance strategies of presidents. Although women presidents are more common today, they are still relatively rare. Furthermore, presidents may need to work with legislative counterparts to affect the policy agenda, but they also often have a range of unilateral powers at their disposal. This may reduce their reliance on or preference for negotiation and consensus. How might we expect the assumptions about women’s leadership styles to shape women’s use of their unilateral presidential powers, such as the ability to issue executive decrees?

In our new work, we use a paired-comparative approach to evaluate rates of executive decree issuance in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, and Costa Rica between 2000 and 2014. In each case, a woman president succeeded a man from the same political party. The advantage of this research design is that each pair of presidents faced the same institutional constraints, the same or highly similar partisan opponents, and the same or similar own-party policy preferences. This means we can eliminate a host of alternative factors that might explain variation in decree issuance. Instead, we are able to narrow our focus to the effect of gender on a president’s tendency to make use of her or his unilateral decree power.

We find that gender by itself matters somewhat to rates of decree issuance; women do appear less likely to rule by decree overall. Cristina Fernández de Kirchner (Argentina) and Laura Chinchilla (Costa Rica) are much less likely to use such power compared to their predecessors, while Michelle Bachelet (Chile) is slightly less likely to do so and Dilma Rousseff (Brazil) issues decrees at higher rates than her predecessor. Collectively this provides some evidence that there is a gender-based difference in the use of this type of presidential authority.

However, a more nuanced look at when and why presidents wield such power reveals additional information about the gender-based difference. Presidents are presumed to have the option of “going public” in order to influence the policy agenda. For example, a president may consider that high public approval ratings indicate a public mandate or support for action. Rather than trying to bargain or work with congress to pass legislation, a popular president may feel confident in issuing more decrees to accomplish her or his policy goals. A president motivated to work collaboratively or build consensus should be less interested in this “go public” option, and should rely on it less frequently.

When we account for a president’s approval rating, we see very different trends emerge in the decree issuance of women and men presidents. This figure shows that the (relatively low) rate at which women issue decrees is largely unaffected by how popular they are with the public. In contrast, men become much more likely to issue decrees as they get more popular. The gap in decree issuance by women and men is widest and most consistent with high levels of approval, but this gap narrows as presidents face declining approval that prevents them from being able to assert their will.

Scholars have often assumed that Latin American presidents are prone to abusing their unilateral authority, especially when they are or become more popular. At higher levels of popularity, presidents might be emboldened to “go public” with their policy preferences, rather than wasting their time and resources negotiating with the legislature. What we find suggests that this assumption may be true for Latin America’s presidentes in general, but that its presidentas tend to be less abusive of their authority even when they are popular enough to potentially do so.

As more women run for high office around the world, it seems important to consider this evidence of gendered differences in leadership that point to a new model of presidential self-restraint. Further analysis could illuminate distinctions in women’s motivations for governing as they do, in terms of both their strategic motivations and also the substance of the policies they may pursue.

Kazakhstan – A New Move Towards Succession?

Succession in power is the Achilles heel of non-monarchic authoritarian regimes. Since their leaders are not elected through open electoral competition, the incumbent will most probably either die in office or be removed violently. Hence, authoritarian leaders must juggle coping with potential competitors, coopting them into their power pyramid or containing them otherwise, while selecting and preparing an heir.

Kazakhstan’s President Nursultan Nazarbayev has so far been extremely successful in securing his hold on power. The only remaining president in post-Soviet Eurasia who came to power during the old communist days, he is now the seventh in a global list of non-royal long-term leaders alive. Appointed by Gorbachev to the position of the First Secretary of the Communist Party of the Kazakh Socialist Soviet Republic in June 1989, he has been popularly elected and re-elected since December 1991 for five times. Last time this happened, in April 2015, official sources reported that nearly 93 of every 100 voting-age citizens in the country had cast a ballot for him at the polls. However manipulated these figures may be, domestic and international observers all concur that most people indeed see no alternative to the almost 78-year-old “First President-Leader of the Nation.”

Some of the more competitive regimes in the post-Soviet region, such as Georgia (“Rose Revolution” 2003) and Ukraine (“Orange Revolution” 2004), have been hit hard by the inability of “lame duck”-presidents to pave the way for successors enjoying elite consensus and mass support. By contrast, the two most repressive regimes, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, survived the unexpected death of their former leaders in 2006 and 2016, respectively, without the breakdown, clan wars and chaos some pundits had feared. Instead, new presidents Berdymukhammedov and Mirziyoyev, formerly having only been persons of trust but not designated successors to their deceased predecessors, both managed to renegotiate the commitment of influential elite networks. During the first one or two years, they consolidated power by removing potential rivals and winning elections by the same margins as their precursors.

On the one hand, Kazakhstan is in a similar situation as were these two countries when succession was looming. Nazarbayev sits firmly in power. The political regime is centered on him. Speculation about succession has been rampant for years, but there is no obvious heir, even if rumors circulate about his daughter Dariga or his son-in-law Timur Kulibayev and others. On the other hand, there are significant differences compared to Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, especially regarding the structure of the elites. Thanks to a more developed economy, in Kazakhstan there are more numerous groups of vested interests having much to win or to lose when policies or politicians change.

Nazarbayev is a master at balancing these elite networks. One of his visible reactions to their hidden competition is a policy of frequent personnel rotation. While some members of the political elite fall out of the president’s favor, most are simply appointed to other positions just to return after a couple of years being awarded for loyalty and devotion. Observers, stressing the high risk of political instability due to intra-elite quarrels, see these personnel reshufflings as a means to create the conditions for a smooth power succession within the extended Nazarbayev family.

The President himself has addressed the question on several occasions. In 2013, during an interview for a national TV channel, he declared that “one who initiates reforms always faces risks,” and “therefore (…) always thinks of what might follow later on.” He suggested creating “a sustainable system” that would not be shaken by a new leader’s arrival, citing Singapore and Malaysia as role models. In a 2016 interview, he revealed plans to retire by 2020 without handing over power to his children.

In fact, in addition to a “cadre policy” that is hard to decipher from the outside, Nazarbayev also tinkers with the institutional foundations of his regime. He seems to carry out piecemeal constitutional reforms aiming at a smooth transition of power that ensures regime continuity.

During the first two decades of post-communist Kazakhstan, Nazarbayev invested in the postponing of any succession problem to the farthest possible future. Initially, he had faced a restriction to two five-year consecutive terms in office as most of his post-Soviet fellows did. However, in 1995, he orchestrated a referendum, which substituted re-election with an ad hoc prolongation of his tenure. Gradually, Nazarbayev’s enduring overstay in power became institutionalized. In 2000, the Constitutional Court ruled that his 1999 re-election effectively started his presidency anew, since the first post-Soviet Constitution, adopted in 1993, had been replaced in 1995. Finally, a 2007 Constitutional Law exempted the First President-Leader of the Nation from any term constraints at all, paying tribute to his merit for Kazakhstani state- and nation-building. A 2011 constitutional reform added the competency to declare preterm elections to the office at will. As a result, Nazarbayev became entitled to run for the presidency as long as he wishes to, but also to retire at any convenient point in time.

Recently, signs have multiplied that the “operation successor” is about to be set in motion. First, constitutional amendments in 2017 redistributed some powers to the Majilis, the Kazakhstani parliament, and strengthened the role of political parties, at least on paper. Still, even if pitched as an important measure to further democracy, these amendments did not abolish presidential supremacy, the cornerstone of the political system. However, the reform might narrow the formal scope of action for a future office-holder of less political weight than Nazarbayev. For example, the president became obliged to interact with the parliamentary parties when the cabinet is to be formed or the assembly to be dissolved. In the same vein, the upgrading of the Majilis as well as that of political parties could be seen as an attempt to enhance the attractiveness of these arenas for elite cooptation. Possibly, it allows for some degree of interest group pluralism, thereby channeling competition over power on the eve of and during transition.

Second, in June 2017, amendments to the Law on Elections were introduced. Most notably, they demand that any would-be candidate to the presidency prove having no less than five years of work experience in public service or as an elected politician. Apparently, this rules out any regime outsiders from the competition, if there will be any at all.

The third dimension of law-making addresses Nazarbayev’s position after a possible retirement. In addition to lifelong legal immunity, the 2010 revision of the Constitutional law on the Presidency assigned the First President-Leader of the Nation the eternal right to submit “initiatives on major issues of state construction, domestic and foreign policy and national security” for mandatory review by the power branches. Also, he got entitled to personally address parliament, government and other bodies for “important issues.” Reciprocally, these bodies will be obliged to coordinate their activities “in key areas of domestic and foreign policies” with pensioner Nazarbayev.

The most recent move of “operation successor” is currently under parliamentary consideration. It consists of a draft Law on the National Security Council. Founded by presidential decree in 1991, the Council has been reformed since 2006 as many as seven times without gaining major attention or importance. However, in early 2018, Nazarbayev proposed to transform it from a presidential consultative council into a constitutional body, consisting of the President, the Prime Minister, the Chief of the Presidential Administration, the Speakers of both Chambers of the Parliament, leaders of the law enforcement system and several ministers.

Most importantly, Nazarbayev himself shall be appointed Chairman of the Council. He will be entitled to give instructions to all members of the body, including the elected president-to-come. Thus, the First President will have the “final say” on all major political issues, no matter who serves under his guidance. Consequently, Nazarbayev’s future position has already been compared with that of Iran’s Ayatollah Khamenei.

Obviously, the new Law is meant to be an important building block within the imagined Kazakhstani “sustainable system.” It will create an institutional tool for implementing the somewhat lofty prerogatives of the First President enshrined in the 2010 Law on the Presidency. If that plan works out, Nazarbayev could retire from his post as president in the not-so-far future, proclaim early elections, back a candidate for succession, and then groom him or her until the end of his days. With his death, Kazakhstan would return to “normal” presidentialism, since Nazarbayev’s super-presidency is a constitutional position tailored exclusively to him.

If adopted and executed, this institutional reform may perhaps secure Nazarbayev’s lifelong dominance over politics in Kazakhstan and help to introduce a successor who will learn to run the country under the First President’s supervision. However, it is questionable whether the new Council can effectively secure the survival of the regime: should a crisis emerge, Nazarbayev could be tempted to turn the Council into a kind of junta if he is still strong and popular enough by then. Even if this were not to happen, the new incumbent could face a “real” succession crisis and “clan war” the moment the First President will eventually be gone for good.

Thus, the new design of the Council would probably help to solve Nazarbayev’s individual problem, i.e., how to retire without giving up power. It might also allow gaining time to accustom the elites to a new leader. However, whether this will guarantee regime continuity depends on whether the new president can generate credibility under the restricted conditions of “supervised learning,” being simultaneously forced to remain completely loyal to Nazarbayev while striving for building a genuine power base.

Venezuela – Presidential Election to be Held on April 22

Yesterday, the president of the Venezuelan National Electoral Council (CNE – Consejo Nacional Electoral), Tibisay Lucena, announced that presidential elections would be held on Sunday April 22. Both representatives of the opposition and the government, who have been meeting in the Dominican Republic to address the political and economic crises engulfing the country, agreed on this date. Soon after consensus on the date was reached however, the talks disintegrated over disagreement about the conditions of the vote itself. The opposition has refused to sign the draft agreement proposed by the government and has accused the ruling party of refusing to allow a free and fair vote in April’s elections.

This follows the announcement of Venezuela’s Constituent Assembly last month that a ‘snap’ presidential election would be held in April. President Nicolás Maduro had previously indicated that he would be seeking another six-year term and this week, the ruling socialist party, the Partido Socialista Unido de Venezuela (PSUV) officially announced that Maduro would be their candidate. Presidential elections in Venezuela have traditionally been held in December and the decision of the Constituent Assembly to hold an election so soon in April appears to be part of a wider government strategy of electoral manipulation to ensure that they remain in power.

Indeed, Nicolás Maduro is the clear favourite to win the election. Registration of the candidates will begin on February 24-26 and campaigning will only be allowed for three weeks between April 2 and April 19. The most well-known opposition figures, Henrique Capriles and Leopoldo López are unable to stand in the election; Capriles is barred from office and López is currently under house arrest. Notwithstanding the very short notice and opaque electoral rules, the main opposition coalition, the Mesa de la Unidad Democrática (MUD), is also just in poor shape to contest an election. Henrique Capriles announced before Christmas that he was leaving the MUD coalition in response to the decision of four MUD governors to swear allegiance to the Constituent Assembly following gubernatorial elections last October, which was suggestive of a larger schism among the opposition.

On top of all this, it is not even yet clear if the opposition will be able to take part in the election at all. In December, the Constituent Assembly adopted a decree that stated that political parties that wish to take part in elections in Venezuela must have been active in prior elections. The reason that this is significant is because a broad swathe of the opposition, following the October gubernatorial elections, agreed to boycott December’s municipal elections. By refusing to take part in the municipal elections, the bulk of the opposition may have provided the Constituent Assembly and the CNE with an excuse to bar them from April’s presidential elections.

Only one realistic opposition candidate has emerged: Henry Ramos Allup, who at 74, is the former leader of the National Assembly. His party, Acción Democrática, is still eligible to run in the election although he has not yet indicated whether he will take part or not.

Regardless, given the Maduro regime’s willingness to follow the electoral authoritarian playbook, it seems likely that even if the opposition can unite behind one, eligible candidate, it will be nigh on impossible to unseat Nicolás Maduro.

Cyprus – Continuity and change after the 2018 presidential election

The 2018 presidential election in the Republic of Cyprus (RoC) saw the re-election of incumbent president, Nicos Anastasiades, although in more difficult conditions than five years previously. In 2013, he was elected relatively easily, riding the wave of anti-government feeling at a time of worsening economic conditions and intense critique of the former leftist government. In 2018, the situation was different in many respects. This included the fact that he had lost the backing of his former centrist ally (DIKO) and was supported only by his (rightist) party DISY and because of the standard negative effects of incumbency, particularly after some harsh economic decisions, notably the first ever ‘bail-in’ in the EU, which led to increased economic uncertainty and distress among the population.

However, and despite the above, in last Sunday’s election President Anastasiades won 56% of the vote against 44% for Stavros Malas. This was a very similar result to the 2013 election when the same contesters polled 57.48% and 42.52% respectively. For many people, the result made it seem as if the previous 5 years had not taken place. In analysing the results and identifying the reasons and the consequences, this post must be read as a follow up from my previous post in which I analysed the context within which these presidential elections took place.

The issue in the first round was centered on who would face Anastasiades in the second round and whether there would be any room for cooperation between that candidate and the candidates and parties who failed to qualify. In the end, Malas and AKEL polled 30.24%, which was a lot more than anticipated. Therefore, Malas and AKEL were among the definite winners of the first round. The first round had another winner though: the extreme right candidate Christos Christou, the leader of the extreme neo-Nazi party ELAM, who polled 5.65% (up from the 3.7% that his party scored in the 2016 parliamentary elections).

Anastasiades, though coming first, scored 35.51%, which was much lower than expected. He can, therefore, be ranked among the losers of the first round. However, the definite loser of the first round was Nikolas Papadopoulos, who campaigned mostly on the Cyprus problem and who polled 25.74% (approximately 6% down from the total sum of the aggregate vote of the four parties that supported him). The latter seemed to be an indirect indication that the majority of the voters still support the bizonal bicommunal federation as the most acceptable solution to the Cyprus problem.

Abstention reached 28.12%, almost 10% up from 2013, showing that it is a structural feature of Cypriot electoral behaviour, while at the same time it has not reached its ceiling. Exit polls revealed that abstention was much higher among younger cohorts.

The second round revealed an entirely different setting. There, Anastasiades cruised to victory by a clear margin. Although abstention was a little lower than the first round (26.03%), it was still high by Cyprus’ usual standards. More worryingly, the president-elect was actually voted in by a minority of the electorate. Abstention excluded, Anastasiades’ polled 39.1% of the electorate compared to his 43.4% in 2013 and Christofias’ 44.6% in 2008; these figures do not include those who did not register to the electoral lists, or approximately 30,000 people.

Anastasiades’ election can be explained by a variety of factors. The include, first, the fragmentation of the opposition. They won a majority in the first round, totalling approximately 65%. However, its different constituent parts could not strike an agreement for the second round. This placed Anastasiades in an advantageous position allowing him to maneuver effectively. All the parties and candidates who failed to qualify for the second round decided to support neither of the remaining candidates, which was arguably more damaging to Malas.

Second, Anastasiades’ narrative focused on the need to continue a cautious policy with regard to the economy but a decisive attitude with regard to the Cyprus problem; this combination seemed to appeal to voters more than the narratives of his major opponents, Papadopoulos and Malas. Papadopoulos’ new strategy on the Cyprus problem was ambiguous and unclear, thus causing anxiety and uncertainty, whereas Malas’ association with AKEL reminded them of Christofias’ presidency which was judged as bad, particularly in the economy. Both candidates failed to produce and present a convincing, coherent and applicable programme to the voters.

A third reason lies with Anastasiades U-turn in regard to the Cyprus problem in the last few months. The president adopted a more hard-line position, projecting himself as the only candidate who could assertively defend Greek Cypriots’ rights at the negotiation table. This U-turn enabled him to reach out to the more nationalist voters of his own party (DISY) who had considered him too soft towards the Turkish Cypriots and also of other center right and right-wing parties. The nationalist portion of the electorate in Cyprus remains high and this U-turn proved decisive.

The elections revealed interesting insights with regard to Cyprus’ political and party system, indicating mixed signs of change and continuity. Signs of change have been evident for some time now. Partisan attachments are fading away with younger generations not feeling bound by their families’ choices. Cyprus has been experiencing a process of dealignment for a few years now, but without any realignment except in the case of the extreme right ELAM. Interestingly, their party leader achieved a bigger percentage in the presidential elections (5.7%) than his party did a year and a half back in the parliamentary elections of 2016 (3.7%), which is something that he could potentially capitalise on in the near future. However, increased abstention, protest voting and citizens’ dissatisfaction with the overall workings of the political system indicate the existence of a political vacuum in which new organizations, movements and/or parties could enter.

Another interesting new feature of this election which might be revealing for the future was the inability and unwillingness of political parties to reach agreements and make alliances with each other. This was the first time in Cyprus’ presidential election history that candidates and parties did not seek an agreement between the first and the second round. This was justified by their wish not to water down their positions. This was well-received by part of the media and their supporters, but it could also be a sign of their inability to reach a consensus. Moreover, the intense and polarized confrontation between most of the parties, as well as their divergent positions on several dimensions of party competition shows that most opportunities for cooperation have been severely damaged, which in turn points to the difficulties ahead for the president.

The parties that populate the space between the leftist AKEL and rightist DISY have declared their intention to further enhance their cooperation beyond the mere joint support of a common presidential candidate. Their intention is to create a powerful ‘third pole’ in the party system that will pursue power and policies autonomously. Although this is a difficult task to achieve, given their different political and personal agendas and their internal problems, if they do succeed it could change the nature and format of party politics in Cyprus given the fragmentation of the centrist political space hitherto. At the same time, it will place significant pressure on the new president since he will face harsh opposition from two discrete blocs (left and center).

Signs of continuity are also evident particularly with regard to the effects of bipolarism (left and right). The mainstream parties of both left and right, AKEL and DISY, continue to dominate their respective political spheres and have proven their endurance despite their problems. In this regard, the ‘old’ party system has once again proven powerful enough to absorb the shocks and survive.

What is the future for the president elect? It has been pointed out by many commentators that the president will immediately face numerous challenges and will not benefit from any honeymoon period. These challenges include, inter alia, the possible resumption of the negotiations over the Cyprus problem, difficult decisions in the economy (e.g., privatizations, seizure of properties by the banks and many more), the developments with regard to Cyprus’ natural gas deposits, etc. All these decisions must be made in the context of a polarised and hostile environment, particularly in parliament where president Anastasiades does not enjoy a majority anymore. Although Cyprus is a presidential democracy, the president nevertheless has to achieve consensus or at least a majority in many bills. Both AKEL and the parties of the so-called middle space have declared their intention to oppose the president on all fronts. Achieving consensus will be increasingly difficult from now on.

Overall, President Anastasiades has to walk a very thin line. He was voted in with 21,000 votes less than in 2013. More importantly, 335,000 voters did not vote for him (143,401 who abstained, 12,173 blank votes, 10,778 spoilt ballots, and 169,243 citizens who voted for Malas) compared to the 215,281 who did vote for him. To ignore this arithmetic would be a huge mistake, particularly on high salience issues such as the Cyprus problem and the economy. Moreover, he can no longer blame the previous government.

When European presidents abused presidential term limits

The abuse of presidential term limits is rife. In Uganda deputies voted only last month to abolish the age limit for presidential candidates. This decision paved the way for President Museveni to stand for a sixth term, the two-term limit there having already been scrapped in 2005.

In Europe, here meaning the member-state countries of the EU plus Iceland and Switzerland, presidential term limits are not subject to abuse. However, Europe has not always been exempt from practices typically associated with the abuse of presidential term limits. Indeed, there have been examples of presidential terms limits being abolished, ‘grandfathering’ clauses being introduced, and term lengths being extended to suit particular presidents.

In five European countries, presidential term limits have been abolished at some point. In these cases, the process of abolition was often associated with the manipulation of presidential term lengths as well.

  • In France, Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte was directly elected as president in December 1848. With the constitution allowing only a four-year non-renewable term, he staged a coup in December 1852, soon becoming Emperor Napoleon III.
  • In Lithuania, the 1926 coup led by Antanas Smetona was followed by a new Constitution in 1928. In the new Constitution, presidential term lengths were extended and term limits were abolished, leaving President Smetona constitutionally secure in power.
  • In Portugal, a presidency was established with the 1911 Constitution following the abolition of the monarchy. In 1933 Salazar’s so-called Estado Novo constitution extended the president’s term to seven years and abolished term limits. Salazar himself didn’t serve as president, but the abolition of presidential term limits was part of his strategy for securing power in the regime at that time.
  • In Austria, President Hainisch stepped down in 1928 because he was term limited. He was succeeded by Wilhelm Miklas. In 1933 Prime Minister Engelbert Dolfuß effectively ended democracy by shutting down parliament. In 1934 a new Constitution was passed in which presidential term lengths were extended and term limits were abolished. President Miklas benefited from the change, though he was allowed to do so because he was such a docile figure that he posed no threat to the authoritarian regime.
  • Finally, in Czechoslovakia the 1948 Constitution included a term-limit clause. The 1948 Constitution was drafted before the Communists fully assumed power that year. In 1960 a new Constitution was passed, leaving in doubt the Communist nature of the regime, and term limits were abolished as part of the reform.

‘Grandfathering’ is where a particular individual is exempt from a general rule. In the case of presidential term limits, it means that the Constitution includes a term-limit procedure, but a particular individual is exempted from such limits and, in effect, serves as a president for life. There are two historic cases of ‘grandfathering’ in Europe, both in Czechoslovakia.

  • In the 1920 Czechoslovak Constitution, the text stipulated a seven-year term with a two-term limit. However, it also stated that these provisions did not apply to the first president. This was Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk. President Masaryk reminded in power until 1935 when he resigned on health grounds.
  • In the 1948 Czechoslovak Constitution, there was also a clause stating that the term-limit provisions did not apply to a particular person, this time to the second president of the Republic. This was Edvard Beneš. He had succeeded Masaryk, becoming the second President of the Republic, only to be forced from power after the Munich Agreement in 1938. He returned in 1945 and was president in May 1948 when the Constitution of that year was promulgated. However, Beneš opposed the Communist takeover and he resigned in June 1948, effectively making the ‘grandfather’ clause a dead letter.

In effect, then, the abuse of presidential term limits in the countries in the sample here ended in the early post-war period. This is partly because in the post-war period most European democracies have had figurehead presidents, leaving little incentive to abuse term-limit provisions. More importantly, the abuse of term limits is endogenous to the abuse of the rule of law more generally. In other words, the abuse of term limits is a symptom of a democracy in decline, rather than the cause. Given democracy in Europe has remained strong, term limits have been respected. We only have to look at a European country outside the sample here, Belarus, to see how term limits were abused when democracy itself was abolished.

It is worth noting, though, that in four European countries in the sample, there are currently no presidential term limits. They are Cyprus, Iceland, Italy, and Malta. In addition, two democracies previously operated for long periods without term limits – Finland from 1919-1990 and France from 1875-1940 and again from 1958-2008.

The absence of term limits has led to some ‘long’ presidencies, even when countries have been unequivocally democratic. In Finland, President Urho Kekkonen was in office from 1956-1982 and in Iceland four presidents have served for three or more terms, with President Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson holding the presidency from 1996-2016.

In Iceland, Italy, and Malta, there are figurehead presidents. So, there is little call for the introduction of presidential term limits. Cyprus, though, has a presidential system. No Cypriot president has been elected for more than two consecutive terms since Makarios III, even if a number of presidents have stood unsuccessfully for a third term. Even so, the introduction of term limits is regularly part of the political debate. Indeed, a bill to this effect is due to be debated in the legislature very soon.

Overall, in European democracies presidential term limits are, almost by definition, safe from abuse as long as the rule of law remains in place. However, in the past term limits have been abused and more recently some European democracies have witnessed ‘long’ presidencies in the absence of a presidential term-limit clause.

Political Leadership: A Pragmatic Institutionalist Approach

Political Leadership: A Pragmatic Institutionalist Approach
Robert Elgie
Palgrave Macmillan, 2018

This book provides a philosophically informed, institutionalist account of political leadership. It is rooted in a Peircean version of the American pragmatist philosophical tradition and privileges the study of institutions as a cause of leadership outcomes. The study includes identifying the psychological effects of presidentialism and parliamentarism on leader behavior, a study of the impact of institutions on electoral accountability for economic performance, studies of president/cabinet conflict in Europe, presidential control over cabinet composition in France, and constitutional choice in France and Romania. It adopts a multi-method approach, including a lab experiment, large-n statistical tests, and Qualitative Comparative Analysis, as well as two in-depth process-tracing case studies. The aim is to show that an institutional account has the potential to generate well-settled beliefs about the causes of leadership outcomes.

In this post, we outline the work in one chapter. In this chapter, we re-examine Hellwig and Samuels’ (2007) article on economic voting and the clarity of institutional responsibility. Like Hellwig and Samuels, we are interested in the relative effect of parliamentary and semi-presidential institutions on electoral accountablility for economic performance. We are also interested in exploring the effect of variation in presidential power on economic voting in this context. In short, we are interested in whether institutions condition the extent to which presidents and prime ministers are rewarded/blamed for good/bad economic performance.

To address this issue, we update Hellwig and Samuels dataset, noting certain revisions to the way in which they record the vote at elections with the aim of maximising the reliability of the values in the dataset. We then use exactly the same estimation technique as Hellwig and Samuels.

There is insufficient room here to go through the results in depth. (Which is just an ill-disguised invitation to buy the book). There is also no space to describe how the variables have been operationalised. Again, all that material is in the book. Here, we just wish to provide a flavour of the results.

We find support for Hellwig and Samuels’ basic finding that electoral accountability for economic performance is greater under high-clarity elections, i.e. where there is a single-party government, than low-clarity elections where there is not.

More interestingly, our results also show support for Hellwig and Samuels’ finding that the electoral accountability of the president’s party for economic performance is significantly greater during periods of unified government relative to cohabitation. Figure 1 reports the basic results of our models in the same way that Hellwig and Samuels present them in their paper.

Figure 1    The conditional effect of cohabitation in semi-presidential regimes on economic accountability

However, there are some differences between Hellwig and Samuels’ results and ours. Perhaps most notably, we find that electoral accountability for economic performance is significantly greater at presidential elections than legislative elections. This makes sense. At presidential elections, the clarity of responsibility is likely to be clearer because voters can hold a single person/party responsible for the state of the economy. This is the result that Hellwig and Samuels expected to find in their work, but which was not returned. Using the updated version of their dataset, we now find support for their intuition. (See Figure 2.)

Figure 2         The conditional effect of the type of election on economic accountability

While we are concerned with re-testing Hellwig and Samuels’ thesis, we are really interested in exploring how presidential power shapes the clarity of responsibility for economic voting. Hellwig and Samuels do not follow up on this issue in their article. So, we are trying to build on their work by integrating presidential power into their analysis.

We find that presidential power does help us to understand how institutions shape electoral accountability for economic performance. For example, when we include presidential power in the model we find that there is significantly greater economic voting at presidential elections with strong presidents. Again, this makes sense. When there is a strong president, the clarity of responsibility should be higher. Voters know better whom to reward or blame. By contrast, when there is a weak, non-executive presidency, we would not necessarily expect the incumbent president or their party to be held accountable for economic performance. (See Figure 3 relative to Figure 2).

Figure 3        The conditional effect of presidential power and type of election on economic accountability

In addition, we also find that electoral accountability for economic performance is conditional upon presidential power during cohabitation. In these periods, there is significantly greater economic voting during periods of unified government when there is a strong president. (See Figure 4 relative to Figure 1). In other words, the combination of unified government and presidential power shapes economic voting at elections under semi-presidentialism.

Figure 4         The conditional effect of presidential power and cohabitation in semi-presidential regimes on economic accountability

These are only a flavour of the results in the chapter. Spoiler alert, not all results are as expected. Most, though, are.

We would like to thank Hellwig and Samuels for supplying their dataset for replication purposes. Obviously, all results presented here and in the book are the author’s responsibility alone.

Reference

Hellwig, Timothy, and David Samuels (2007), ‘Electoral Accountability and the Variety of Democratic Regimes’, British Journal of Political Science, 38: 65-90.