Reforming the House of Lords: Balancing Efficiency and Legitimacy

In a speech delivered at Demos this week, Nick Clegg sought to defend the precepts of the ‘Open Society’.  Aiming to reinvigorate the drive towards greater political pluralism and democratic involvement, while promoting such values as openness and equality that define his political perspective, the deputy prime minister placed reform of the House of Lords back into the spotlight.

Reform of the Second Chamber is undoubtedly a central issue, both within and beyond liberal reformist circles.  However, the matter is dominated by talk of increasing legitimacy, overshadowing the opportunity, if not the responsibility, to enhance the efficiency of the House.  Strengthening the democratic functioning of the Lords requires a broadening of their ability to act rather than solely focussing on the conviction with which they act.

Chief amongst Parliament’s many activities is the passage of effective legislation.  The bi-cameral nature of Parliament provides for an upper House to review proposed legislation, holding the government to account through deliberation and reassessment.  The incorporation of experts is therefore vastly beneficial to the process of scrutiny.  Unfortunately, the price of such expertise is democratic legitimacy, undermining any authority attached to amendments emerging from the Lords.  While the case for electing the Lords, or at least a significant majority, is therefore a strong one, insufficient attention has been paid to considering how functions could be better performed through concurrent structural and procedural reforms.

Currently, the House of Lords is chamber-oriented, relying on individuals who are both unelected and part-time.  Such working practices under-utilise the wealth of experience and knowledge of the Lords; with much time in the House being dedicated to detailed scrutiny of bills at the committee stage of the legislative process, many central issues fail to be debated by Peers.  This shortcoming adds to the case supporting reform of the House of Lords.  However, responses to questions concerning heightening efficiency and legitimacy need not be mutually exclusive.  

A reformed Chamber should complement the work of the Commons, providing an alternative perspective to legislative scrutiny.  An overriding fear of duplicating the work of the Commons has prevented the emergence of a strong committee system within the House of Lords.  Given the nature of the Lords’ remit, such a development path is peculiar; parallel departmental committees would greatly enhance opportunities for effective scrutiny, potentially producing stronger legislation, while allowing committee chairs in both Houses to coordinate workloads and avoid unnecessary duplication.  

A further advantage of allowing for a stronger committee system in the Lords comes in the shape of a solution to the trade-off between democratic legitimacy and expert input.  Rather than being permanently sitting members of the Lords, experts would continue to be integrated into the legislative process as Special Advisers or, alternatively, being called by committees considering specific legislation.  Expertise would thus remain eminent, while experts would not expected to choose between providing legislative advice and an existing career.  Similarly, the quality and relevance of legislative scrutiny would be improved, while democratic legitimacy would be revived by ensuring that the final say falls to elected representatives, suitably informed.

A revised House of Lords would, despite anticipated reductions in size, likely become more assertive in challenging government proposals as a result of Members’ knowledge that they represent the wishes of voters.  While this will ultimately improve governance through enhanced accountability, formal mechanisms above and beyond the Salisbury Convention and Parliament Acts would need to be established to confirm the continued primacy of the Commons, and to safeguard against legislative deadlock.  The House of Commons, as the driver of reform, could feasibly specify in legislation the powers of a revised Upper Chamber, for example by restricting the selection of ministers to the House of Commons.  However, the establishing of joint legislative committees to reconcile competing drafts of bills, as used in the United States, would further enhance the democratic functionality of Parliament.

With Clegg’s speech serving as a reminder that reform of the House of Lords remains a primary liberal concern, the opportunity for streamlining the structure of the Chamber as well as its composition, is one that should not be passed up.  Making such modifications simultaneously would maximise the efficiency of reform, fulfilling the desire for both democratic legitimacy and expert input into legislation.

The Dawn of an Arab Summer?

Little over ten months since Mohamed Bouazizi, a former Tunisian market trader, self-immolated and sparked regional uprisings, the Arab Spring is showing its most positive signs yet of blossoming into a late Arab Summer.

On 23 October, voters across Tunisia proudly paraded their pigmented fingers as they emerged from polling stations nationwide, verification that they had exercised their democratic rights and the newfound political implications this signifies: this was the first time in generations that the outcome of such a ballot has not been pre-ordained, and is the first election to be held in the region since protests got underway.  That the vote is taking place three months later than originally scheduled owing to problems with voter registration is of itself an indication of the reverence with which democratic rights and freedoms are increasingly being held.  Accordingly, in keeping with the spirit underlying the Jasmine revolution, turnout is anticipated to be high, following enhanced campaigning and freedom of political discussion facilitated by the dismantling of the secret police.  As many in their fifties and sixties reported voting for the first time, engagement is reaching impressive peaks.

The ballot in Tunisia will elect an assembly consisting of 217 representatives, who will in turn appoint a transitional government.  Rather than a permanent governing body, the assembly’s mandate will be limited to a single year; just enough time to construct a new constitution on democratic foundations (and possibly put proposals to a national referendum).  Only then will the future shape of Tunisian democracy become apparent, with the new document detailing future political configurations and mechanisms.

With strong competition from various parties and no one faction expected to produce an overwhelming majority, coupled with a proportionally representative voting system (albeit of the closed list variety), the election holds huge democratic potential.  Furthermore, Ennahdha’s inclusion in the process could further invalidate long-held assertions concerning an ideological incompatibility between Islam and democracy, blazing a trail for other transitional states to follow, and perhaps even swaying opinion within Saudi Arabia in light of the emerging succession crisis.  Fascinating times lie ahead, and the outside world will await the outcome with bated breath; Tunisia is once again in a position to influence the future of the entire region.

No doubt members of Libya’s National Transitional Council will be paying particularly close attention: following the death of Muammar Gaddafi days earlier, the transitional government declared liberation from Benghazi on the same day that polls were held in Tunisia.  Elections for a similar assembly, also tasked with drafting a new constitution and forming a transitional government, are due in Libya within eight months.  Similarly, the drawn-out process of parliamentary elections in Egypt is due to get underway in late-November following delays caused by military foot-dragging and breakdowns in political coalition-building.  Lessons from Tunis would be welcomed in both as green shoots of democracy begin to emerge across the region.

While the vast pockets of pro-Gaddafi support encountered in Libya will complicate the process and cause potential delays, the complete eradication of the regime will likely be advantageous in the longer term; unlike Tunisia, where elements of Ben Ali’s Democratic Constitutional Rally remain, and Egypt where traces of Mubarak’s National Democratic Party persist, embodied by the military’s continued presence and political involvement, Libyans will have the opportunity to build a political infrastructure afresh.  Western nations need to be prepared to offer assistance and advice where needed, but should seek to cultivate a regionally organic arrangement rather than export and impose specific models; room for flexibility is essential if the Arab summer is to reach full bloom and democracy is to persist.

e-Petitions: Power to the People?

News emerged in the past week that MPs will debate the two e-petitions to have successfully amassed 100,000 online signatures.  On 13 October, in the first such debate to materialise from the government’s latest e-democracy experiment, the House will debate controversial calls to remove benefits from those found guilty of involvement in recent riots that swept the country, while on 17 October the topic of discussion will be the somewhat less contentious issue of releasing documents relating to the 1989 Hillsborough disaster.  High speed rail, however, will not feature on the agenda after the petition presented by campaigners against the £34bn project, despite accruing more than the requisite number of signatures, was deemed to be void as only half were gathered online.

In the previous meeting of the Commons Backbench Business Committee, the first since the e-petitions website went live a mere two days prior to the summer recess, no Member broached either of the issues dominating online activity.  Accordingly, the Committee, tasked with discussing the merits of e-petitions surpassing the 100,000 signature mark and deciding whether or not to assign a Parliamentary slot, did not allocate any time on 15 September to their discussion.  Despite far exceeding the levels of online support deemed necessary to trigger a Commons debate, discussion by MPs in the Chamber was effectively postponed until after the Autumn Party Conference season at the earliest.

This failure to act was broadly criticised; claims that omitting to allocate time to debating issues raised through official channels confirm that e-petitions are a light-touch gained momentum.  Furthermore, following the HS2 ruling, others viewed e-petitions as failing in their quest to produce a richer democratic framework, being detached from other forms of participation rather than promoting a joined-up system of participation.  How much truth there is in these assertions will only become clear once the procedures and infrastructure mature, though if history is to be our guide, such allegations may prove correct.  Contrary to contentions that the entire notion cheapens democracy, relegating Parliamentary tradition to ‘X Factor style politics’, such a failure would be a missed opportunity for broadening democratic engagement.

The notion of petitioning Parliament dates back centuries and, in its purer paper form, has long been an accepted means through which to convey opinion to the government of the day.  Digitising the process arguably overcomes logistical barriers posed by narrow localism, encouraging participation in the political realm across a wider geographical area and reinvigorating a little-understood and neglected mechanism through the application of twenty-first century technology.  Indeed, with paper petitions being deposited behind the Speaker’s chair in a plastic bag upon receipt, John Bercow has suggested that placing petitions online will enhance legitimacy and the seriousness with which they are taken, in turn enriching democracy by encouraging participation in the political process.

To be sure, online petitions are not an innovation of the Tory-led coalition; Hollyrood began experimenting with cyber suffrage as early as the turn of the new millennium, while localities such as Bristol and the Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames joined the progressive e-democrats in 2004.  This is not to mention the Number 10 e-petitions website that was suspended immediately prior to the general election in 2010.  Significantly, according to Fergus Cochrane, clerk to the Public Petitions Committee at the Scottish Parliament, e-petitions now outnumber their paper counterparts, confirming the benefits to be had from providing greater participatory opportunities.  

It is important to recognise that any debate emerging from an online petition is not intended to coerce the government into action: the popularly held belief, propagated by the e-petitions homepage, that e-petitions are a simple means to ‘influence government policy’ is misguided.  This is a reality that the government needs to address in order to avoid disengaging those it seeks to galvanise, having been a primary failing of the previous Number 10 petitions website.

Instead, as noted by Peter Riddell, the underlying objective is to enhance public engagement and facilitate debate on issues of popular importance.  In this respect, e-petitions do not bestow upon the public the direct ability to force the government’s hand, and rightly so.  They do, however, allow a degree of influence over the political agenda and provide an additional channel of involvement.  Such is the nature of representative democracy.  Consequently, given the tight limits on Parliamentary time and the deficiency in the number of days allocated to Backbench Business Committee matters, not every petition achieving the 100,000 signature target will be deemed worthy of a full-length debate; some may be adequately dealt with by a ministerial statement on the issue in the House, while others may not warrant any action.  With this being a logistical necessity rather than a broader indictment of e-petitions, it is unfortunate that this reality brings the e-petitions website dangerously close to the failings of its predecessor.

In an interesting contrast to the Westminster model, the Public Petitions Committee in Scotland offers advice and feedback on issues such as wording and topicality, promoting relevance to government business and maximising the potential for success.  With the Committee reacting to petitions covering issues within the Scottish Parliament's remit rather than relying on the court of public opinion to gauge suitability as per the Westminster interpretation, the Hollyrood model provides greater scope for intelligent and inclusive agenda setting, albeit in a less than democratic fashion.  However, this brings the benefit of avoiding strictly populist issues that often verge on the absurd – the petition on the Number 10 petitions website to install Jeremy Clarkson as PM, receiving almost 50,000 votes, is a prime example.

With e-petitions not handing the electorate the unqualified power to determine the legislative process that many thought the process promised, opining that the entire notion is failing to empower citizens has become an attractive proposition.  Democratic arrangements in Britain,  however, coupled with the already-manic Parliamentary timetable, preclude such an aim.  Nevertheless, in excess of a million digital signatures have thus far been collected, and debates have been scheduled in the Chamber on issues arising directly from e-petitions.  Broadening the scope for participation in such a way undoubtedly strengthens democratic credentials, with the ability to shape the political agenda, and potentially legislative discourse, empowering citizens with greater leverage.  While the system may not be perfect (the arbitrary 100,000 signature requirement, for example, may require future adjustments), any means that promotes participatory potential can only be good for the health of democracy.

Elections In Turkey: The Constitution and Democracy

The secular establishment within in Turkey is, and has long been, wary of the Justice and Development Party (AKP) headed by Recep Tayyip Erdogan.  Traditionally, prevailing opinion amongst critics has been that the ultimate aim of the Islamist-rooted party is the imposition of sharia law, with examples of efforts to criminalise adultery and ease restrictions relating to the wearing of the headscarf being oft cited.  However, after almost nine years of single-party AKP government, the inaccuracy of such claims is being recognised; the hurdle of incorporating religiously-tinted political organisations into a rigorously laicist political framework while confining the secular generals to their barracks has been a crucial step in Ankara’s democratic epiphany.  With allegations pertaining to the establishment of Turkish theocracy being notably less prominent in the build-up to parliamentary elections on 12 June than in either of the previous two ballots, economic performance and constitutional reform were able to dominate discussions.

The AKP takes much credit for orchestrating steady economic growth and raising living standards following the bust of 2001; with per capita GDP having almost trebled from $3,500 to $10,000 since 2002, coupled with economic misery for European and Mediterranean neighbours, AKP performance appears particularly impressive.  Equally, the AKP has been responsible for opening coveted EU accession talks, albeit so far with little return, as well as instigating welcome policies of “strategic depth” and “zero problems” in the foreign policy sphere.  It is hardly surprising, therefore, that opinion polls prior to parliamentary elections indicated a 40-45% share of the popular vote.  While this figure was marginally less than the 47% achieved in 2007, it represented an improvement on the 39% support achieved in the municipal elections of 2009 and a substantial lead over the secular Republican People’s Party (CHP).  Accordingly, the outcome of the election was never in doubt; with Erdogan set to become the first Turkish leader to win three consecutive elections, the only questions being asked concerned the size of the AKP majority.

Despite the party’s favourable record in government and the concomitant approval of public opinion, the AKP’s popularity prior to Sunday’s election had been the cause of much concern.  With the idiosyncrasies of the Turkish electoral system requiring that parties surpass 10% of the popular vote before taking seats in parliament, the AKP could feasibly have returned a “supermajority” of 367 MPs which would enable Erdogan to unilaterally rewrite the constitution and, many feared, “Kremlinise” Turkish politics.  Similarly, a 60% majority (i.e. 330 MPs) would have allowed the party to put constitutional proposals directly to the public without consulting opposition opinion.  Exploiting the lack of institutional safeguards in such a Machiavellian manner would clearly fail to conform with democratic ideals; while achieving a simple majority legitimates the enactment of specific policies, changing the framework within which politics takes place should be subject to sterner requirements.  As a result, constitutional reform became a central electoral issue.

The current constitution is the product of the military coup of 1980.  Attempting to revoke many of the liberalising facets introduced by the previous military constitution of 1961 in seeking to ensure against communist infiltration, the 1982 document placed a disproportionate amount of power in the hands of the state machinery and created a democratic deficit.  Thus, despite numerous amendments, including many passed by the AKP, there is broad consensus on the requirement for a new constitution capable of meeting the demands of a growing and modernising state in the 21st century: the 2007 elections highlighted that Ankara can only consolidate democratic transition once any constitutional validation of military intervention has been removed, thereby enhancing the prospect of longed-for EU accession.

Prior to the election, both AKP and CHP promised to recast the constitution should they be victorious, with Kemal Kilicdaroglu, CHP leader, pledging to ‘bring democracy and freedom to the country’.  However, while Kilicdaroglu vowed extensive changes, including greater rights for Kurds and Alevis, reinforced press freedoms (at a time when Turkey has more journalists in prison than any other country), and a reduction in the 10% electoral threshold, Erdogan remained very nondescript about his visions for a new document, saying little more than that he desired a ‘constitution of the people’ that would be ‘short, compact, [and] open’ with greater presidential powers.  With Erdogan disqualified from running for a fourth term as prime minister yet indicating his intention to retain political influence, campaigning under the slogan “Objective 2023” in an apparent effort to evoke comparison with Ataturk in the build-up to the Republic’s centenary, suspicions arose that Erdogan intended to aggrandise the presidency and create a political system loosely based upon the French model before manoeuvring himself into the role.  Statements made by Erdogan prior to ballots being cast regarding the AKP’s disinclination to make constitutional amendments should the party fail to win 330 seats, pre-emptively renouncing any potential for cross-party collaboration amidst an air of conceit resulting from success in a 2010 referendum on a series of constitutional amendments, did little to avert such scepticism.  A strong AKP mandate could therefore have the adverse effect of reversing aspects of AKP-inspired democratisation.

Near-complete results indicate another AKP victory, winning almost 50% of the popular vote while the CHP polled 26% and the far-right Nationalist Action Party (MHP) 13%.  Translating to 326 parliamentary seats (fifteen fewer than in 2007 despite gaining roughly five million additional votes), fears of the AKP being able to unilaterally institutionalise Erdogan’s political control have been quelled – a result of the MHP surpassing the 10% barrier combined with independents scoring an impressive 36 seats.  Accordingly, in something of a volte face, Erdogan proclaimed in his victory speech that ‘the people gave us a message to build the new constitution through consensus and negotiation’, declaring that the AKP would ‘discuss the new constitution with opposition parties’.  While the AKP will be able to act freely as a result of the mandate delivered by the electorate, greater cooperation with newly-strengthened opposition parties will be required if constitutional changes are to be enacted, particularly with the Peace and Democracy Party-backed independents in redressing the Kurdish issue; a continuing failure to deliver on such promises would seriously hamper any future effort by Erdogan to capture the presidency.  Such consensus seeking will doubtlessly reinforce Ankara’s democratic foundations while holding the potential to kick-start faltering negotiations with the EU at a time when relations with Muslim neighbours are under great strain.  In this respect, a reduced majority may serve to strengthen Erdogan as well as democracy.

Theocratic Tensions in Iran

The Jasmine Revolution, born in Tunisia some five moths ago, has spread across North Africa and the Middle East.  While pro-democracy protests and the associated state crackdowns continue, outside interest is steadily waning.  Recent democratic wrangling in Iran, for instance, failed to made front page news, overshadowed by such occasions as the Royal wedding, the events in Pakistan surrounding Osama bin Laden, and questions regarding the stability of the governing coalition as a result of recent electoral outcomes.

In the time since the spawning of the revolutions, only two Arab leaders have been toppled.  While four are under sustained heavy pressure, with UN and NATO military involvement in Libya, dictators are managing to hold on.  The remaining fifteen Arab leaders have been relatively unaffected, experiencing only minor protests.  Despite a strong and encouraging start, the success rate of the protests in terms of enacting reform has been limited.  The next leader to fall may, then, come from outside the Arab world.  Enter Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

In contrast to scenarios playing out in Syria, Libya, Bahrain and the like, the threat to President Ahmadinejad’s reign comes not from the outside, but from a power struggle within the establishment itself.  (Tehran has continued to voice support for the government in Damascus amidst accusations of assisting the Assad regime to violently suppress protests – hardly surprising when considering the brutality with which the Green movement was crushed in Iran following the 2009 presidential elections.)  When the president discovered that the minister of intelligence, Heidar Moslehi, had been bugging the offices of Esfandiar Rahim Mashaei, Ahmadinejad’s trusted chief of staff and close personal friend, Moslehi was promptly issued with his marching orders.  However, in a move that effectively disenfranchised Ahmadinejad, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who dislikes Mashaei’s nationalistic views and socio-cultural liberalism and has previously rejected his candidature for a ministerial role, reinstated Moslehi – a conservative whose outlook is more attuned to that of the establishment.  Angry at Khamenei’s efforts to interfere in the running of the cabinet, Ahmadinejad boycotted his duties for eleven days, skipping two cabinet meetings and cancelling an official visit to Qom.

Rather than a cosmetic shootout concerning the composition of the cabinet, the underlying struggle for power could shake the Islamic Republic to its very foundations.  With Iranian security forces preventing more than a dozen demonstrations since February, Khamenei’s actions appear to have been motivated by self-preservation; with the pro-democracy movement threatening to spill into the republic, the Ayatollah looks to have sought to reassert his dominance, thereby preserving both his position and the political system itself by disempowering a president who has increasingly espoused conceptions of an Iranian state based on nationalism and free from clerical influence.  However, in doing so, Khamenei runs the risk of further agitating pro-democracy sentiment; with the Supreme Leader being above politics, and therefore being unelected, any notion of democratic legitimacy provided by an elected president (the 2009 election was heavily criticised and widely condemned) has been trampled.  In the unlikely event that the Jasmine Revolution successfully penetrates the Islamic Republic, the repercussions for the regime could be more intense as a result.

Ahmadinejad, owing to his increasingly nationalistic outlook and preference for the Revolutionary Guards as a guiding force, is understood by senior clerics as posing a sincere threat to the republic’s composition.  The president’s visions of guiding Iran in a new direction, reconfiguring the internal distribution of power in favour of the elected leader, coupled with a series of documentary films portraying Ahmadinejad as the embodiment of a mythical religious figure who will accompany the “Hidden Imam” on the Day of Judgement, have given rise to accusations from within the establishment that Ahmadinejad is influenced by religious “deviants” who believe in supernatural powers and djinns (spirits).  This has been divisive for Ahmadinejad, with many supporters of the president backing Khamenei: Ayatollah Mohammad Taqi Mesbah-Yazdi, a religious mentor of the president, openly criticised Ahmadinejad, opining that the ‘restoration of anti-clerical thinking could be the next great sedition in this country’ and warning that rebelling against the Supreme Leader was tantamount to ‘apostasy from God’.  Such accusations are inherently harmful to the regime, assigning to the president a religious status transcending that of the clerical establishment and thus questioning the legitimacy of the Iranian regime. 

Nonetheless, with calls for a closed debate on the president’s boycotting of official duties (read: calls for impeachment) being overlooked, the target of the clerics’ displeasure appears to be Mashaei rather than Ahmadinejad.  With Iran’s constitution barring more than two consecutive presidential terms, Ahmadinejad cannot run for office in 2013.  Instead, it seems the president is attempting to groom Mashaei as his successor, though having long claimed not to need the clergy to interpret religious texts for him, many within the clerical establishment have taken the view that it is Mashaei who is the real source of influence.  With the clerical establishment determined to prevent the rise of Mashaei, it appears that the only way in which Ahmadinejad can retain meaningful power is to submit to Khamenei’s will and dispense with Mashaei’s services.

The timing of the affair is unlikely to have been coincidental.  With parliamentary elections scheduled for 2012, Ahmadinejad has a vested interest in controlling the intelligence ministry; with the department being charged with conducting background checks on potential candidates, an opportunity to veto potential challengers and secure a strong majority for backers of the president was undoubtedly a consideration for Ahmadinejad.  In this respect, the president could be the architect of his own downfall, prompting conservatives and clerics alike to band together to safeguard the establishment.  For Geneive Abdo, while Khamenei's victory may have preserved a political system that is not fully understand in the West, crucially, it is one that remains somewhat predictable; the survival of Khamenei and the conservatives once referred to as “hard-liners” by the West is now preferred to the erratic and volatile Ahmadinejad.  With the Ayatollah’s unconditional support no longer a certainty, the president may well see out the remainder of his term as a lame duck.

The AV Referendum: A Wasted Opportunity?

Today the nation goes to the polls in the first nationwide referendum since 1975.  In the past six weeks, both David Cameron and Nick Clegg have returned to their roles as respective party leaders, rather than coalition partners.  The promised maturity was delivered while the campaigns were in their infancy; speeches announcing both “Yes” and “No” campaigns were timed so as not to coincide, partisan mudslinging was absent, and both even agreed that the referendum should select a voting system that promotes democratic fairness.  However, the arguments set out on both sides of the divide, despite aiming to promote a vibrant democracy, have consistently been at odds with one another.  This, unfortunately, resulted in the build-up to polling day being dominated by deceptive factional disparagement, rather than informed discourse concerning the benefits, or otherwise, to be had from each of the systems in question.  Paradoxically, the course of campaigning could itself be a blow for the very democracy that the referendum initially sought to promote.

Take two examples.  Firstly, Chris Huhne, the LibDem energy secretary, recently vented frustration over campaign literature focusing on Clegg’s broken election pledges, opining that Cameron personally ‘had the power to stop these’ by virtue of the Conservatives’ role in financing the “No” lobby.  (Previously, Huhne went so far as to suggest that the “Yes” camp would take legal action amidst allegations of untruths being promulgated by George Osborne.  While the Electoral Commission ruled itself not to have the necessary powers to investigate the contentions, Huhne did not rule out resignation over the issue.)  Secondly, Lord Mandelson suggested that many within the Labour Party were displaying misplaced priorities prior to the ballot, namely ‘a short-term desire to kick Nick Clegg, rather than see the long-term benefit of defeating Cameron’.  It is detestable that support for, or hatred of, an individual representative or partisan grouping should play a central role in determining the conduct of future elections; personality politics should not be allowed to intrude on matter of such constitutional significance.

Hidden within the name-calling, backbiting, and claims of attempting to defend the indefensible, a significant political issue is at stake.  The serious debate surrounding the referendum should not be ignored.  The “Yes” campaign has variously argued that the AV system makes (would-be) representatives work harder, minimising so-called “safe” seats while ensuring that every vote counts.  Equally, weight has been assigned to the assertion that AV is a relatively simple upgrade to the current FPTP system, potentially providing a steppingstone towards fully proportional representation.  In contrast, the “No” camp has countered that AV would place more power in the hands of politicians, arguing change to be expensive not only financially, but also ideologically; adopting AV, the argument runs, would lead to the democratic principle of “one man, one vote” being abandoned in the long grass.  Who, then, is right?

Clearly, arguments exist on both sides.  Some, however, are more rational than others, while still more are founded upon flawed logic.  A study by the New Economics Foundation has, for instance, estimated that AV would only marginally reduce, rather than abolish, safe seats – 16% rather than 13% of seats would typically change hands at elections under the alternative vote.  (Interestingly, the notion of the safe seat is often misconstrued; there is nothing inherently undemocratic about a candidate or party being able to hold a constituency for sustained periods as a result of voter satisfaction.)  Similarly, claims that AV would require all representatives to gain majority support are wide of the mark: the potential for ‘plumping’ under AV would ensure this.  Declarations that voting “yes” will cost in the region of £250 million and, by association, detract from spending on health and defence, are farfetched – expensive vote-counting machinery, while widely used in mayoral elections, is not a requisite of AV, while some £120 million has already been set aside for the next general election (let us not forget that all elections cost money, not just those employing AV; this is a cost of democracy).  Suggestions that a “yes” outcome would result in some voters effectively being able to vote more than once are likewise confused; while secondary preferences would be granted equal weight to first preference votes, detracting from the notion of equality, no voter would be entitled to cast more than one ballot.  This mistake, as made recently by John Humphrys when interviewing Cameron on voting reform, casts an ironic shadow over claims that AV is ‘terribly simple’.  The list goes on.

Whether the electorate will have been able, or, indeed, willing, to see beyond partisan tussling remains to be seen.  What has become obvious, however, is that the suspicions of politicians held by voters are reciprocal; elected representatives forwent the opportunity to engage electors in serious dialogue on the future of British democracy (sustained debate on future proportional representation, for instance, was conspicuously absent) as well as to reverse some of the damage caused to their collective reputation as a result of the expenses scandal.

A Sunday Times/YouGov poll indicated on Sunday a 10-point lead for the “No” camp.  While this is down from 18 points, the lead remains considerable and represents a turnaround from earlier in the campaign.  However, when polling stations opened, the contest was still considered to be wide open.  Indeed, results will not be known for another twenty-four hours.  With national turnout likely to be low despite over 9,000 local council seats also being up for grabs, coupled with the immature campaigning tactics all round, the outcome will be more politicised than political.

The Quiet Referendum: Egypt on the Road to Democracy

The headlines of the past week have portrayed a sombre and melancholic outlook on world affairs.  Dominated by stories of war in Libya and the accompanying issues of morality and legality, fears of nuclear fallout and pictures of tsunami-induced suffering in Japan, tales of violent retaliation against pro-democracy factions across the Middle East and North Africa, and arguments surrounding the utility of a 1p cut in Britain’s fuel duty, one could be forgiven for accepting the view that all is not well in the world.  This is before the weekend’s protests marches through London – which spawned a splinter group intent on causing unnecessary damage by way of “protest” – even enters the equation.  However, one story that brings a glimpse of hope was buried underneath the despondency, broadly failing to make front page news.

On 19 March, voting took place at 54,000 polling stations across Egypt in a referendum on constitutional reforms stimulated by the revolution that began nearly two months earlier.  This, the first green shoot of change to emerge from the upheavals, should spread hope across the region.  While headline analyses do not necessarily make for enthralling reading – turnout, at 41%, was not particularly high by Western standards, while the 77.2% approval rate suggests that the underlying issues were not overly contentious – delving a little deeper allows the true worth of the occasion to be appreciated.

On the issue of turnout, it is important to remember that Egypt is not a democracy; with no tangible value previously attached to votes, coupled with a franchise that was not universal, the sense of civic duty felt across the democratic world had hitherto failed to develop in Egypt.  Thus, in 2010, when legislative elections were last held, turnout was widely reported to be below 25% (some sources reported figures as low as 10%) while instances of judges reporting local officials fabricating figures were not uncommon.  With the referendum billed as the first vote in Egyptian memory whereby the result is not predetermined, a turnout of 41% amongst an expanded electorate looks more like a triumphant achievement and a step towards realising the ambitions of the revolution.  It is no coincidence that this is the highest recorded turnout in Egyptian polls.  Indeed, US Ambassador to Egypt, Margaret Scobey, declared the peaceful exercising of newly won democratic freedoms on a scale never before seen in the country to be ‘cause for great optimism’.  While Mohamed ElBaradei encountered initial difficulties, tweeting concerns regarding an absence of law and order, the presence of some 37,000 soldiers to assist the police in securing the streets ensured that the vote was generally smooth and calm.  Moreover, in a further contrast to those polls experienced under Mubarak, and 2010 in particular, 17,000 judges were on hand to monitor proceedings.

The constitutional amendments proposed in the referendum created greater divisiveness  amongst reformist opinion than results would tend to suggest.  Many insisted the reforms to be insufficient, arguing that the constitution needs fully re-writing before elections are held.  Others professed general satisfaction with the map for progress, opining that a newly elected parliament should have authority to re-write the constitution.  Prior to the ballot, therefore, debate was roughly divided between liberals and secularists on the one hand, and Islamists and conservatives on the other.  This fits nicely with theories that the Muslim Brotherhood, along with remnants of Mubarak’s National Democratic Party (NDP), would support the proposals in order to trigger a rapid transition of power away from the military.  This, the argument goes, would allow these groups to capitalise on organisational advantages when contesting elections, enabling their dominance within the next parliament and the ability to draft a new constitution firmly in their interests.  Predicting such a scenario, a statement by groups involved in the January 25 Revolution called for a “no” vote in order to negate the ‘attempt to abort revolution’, with Salma Said calling for the poll to be delayed on the grounds that ‘this referendum is based on a constitution that the revolution was meant to stop’.  Revisions to Article 75, for instance, have caused particular upset, implicitly removing the possibility that any Egyptian citizen can aspire to the presidency by introducing regulations precluding marriage to a non-Egyptian and extending restrictions regarding dual nationality to a candidate’s parents.  In a similar vein, the continuing power of the president has also raised eyebrows.  Critics have highlighted how the amendments allow the president to retain the ability to appoint one-third of the shura council, as well as the upper house of parliament and up to ten members of the lower chamber, while preserving the power to unilaterally dissolve parliament.  Undoubtedly, these powers are not symptomatic of a democratic polity.

However, there are flaws in this line of reasoning, and it must be recognised that the democracy achieved in much of the Western world cannot be manufactured overnight, let alone imposed in perfect fashion.  Primarily, drafting a new constitution prior to elections, with the generals still in power, would necessarily entail some level of military influence, be it in drafting the document or in the appointment of a committee to undertake the task.  Clearly, such a move would fly in the face of all that the revolution stood for; better to have a constitution penned by scholars and elected representatives than one dictated by the military which would potentially accommodate interference by the generals in the political sphere.  While it is true that the amendments voted on in the referendum were drawn up by a judicial panel appointed by the ruling Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, the military has consistently expressed a desire to relinquish authority to an elected government as quickly as possible to avoid accusations of attempting to hold onto the reigns of power.

While fears abound that the “yes” vote will be interpreted as tacit approval on articles of the current constitution, granting automatic title to their inclusion in future documents, it is here that revisions to Article 189 are of great significance.  Requiring that a Constitutional Committee be formed within six months of parliament taking office, and with the stipulation that proposals face a public vote, accusations that interim amendments enacted by the referendum are merely cosmetic are effectively neutralised.  Plainly, further changes to meet demands are anticipated, with provision clearly being made to facilitate, rather than merely cater for, constitutional overhaul.  Moreover, had proposed amendments been broader, fears pertaining the “yes” vote as bestowing automatic entitlement to incorporation within any future document would surely have worsened, prompting claims of excessive military involvement.  In this respect, the military faced a “lose-lose” situation.  Similarly, claims that presidential powers would remain unreformed are mistaken.  The revised Article 77, for example, imposes a limit of two four-year presidential terms – a rare restriction across the Arab world – while Article 139 mandates that a vice president be appointed within sixty days.  Furthermore, the president’s right to use military courts would also be cancelled, while Article 88 ensures full judicial oversight of electoral processes.  Crucially, Article 76 opens elections to greater competition, enabling independent candidates to stand alongside those from established parties.  Also, importantly, in a state currently without a president, those retained powers presently serve no purpose.  Revisions to Articles 77 and 139, by this reading, serve as a safeguard only, confirming the military’s desire for stable, civilian-led governance.

Importantly, Article 75 aside, there has been little by way of complaint regarding the direction of reform (and even revisions to Article 75, if read to be a temporary measure designed to apply in the next presidential poll only, could be interpreted as an insurance policy for Egyptian self-determination).  The primary grievance has instead been the view that the short turnaround time will favour Islamists and players associated with the former regime; the weeks that have passed since Mubarak was ousted have not, in the opinion of many activists, been sufficient to reverse the decades of oppression encountered and the distortions to political life that this produced.  Nor will a few months be adequate for new parties to organise and compete effectively in legislative elections.  While it is true that the Brotherhood and the NDP were the primary sources of support for the amendments, this should not be interpreted as anything other than the professed desire for democratic stability.  Undoubtedly, the size of the “yes” vote confirms that these groups continue to exude considerable influence, though this cannot be grounds for suspecting ulterior motives; the true concern should rest with alternative of prolonged military rule and the prospect of sustained military intervention, not with efforts to enact a transition to civilian governance at the earliest opportunity.  As Mostafa Hussein points out, delaying elections through fear of Brotherhood and/or NDP success ‘would be like delaying the World Cup because you are worried Brazil will win’.  Accordingly, in an effort to reassure those unconvinced, Muhammad Abbas, a prominent young Brother, openly professed that the movement hopes to get a third of the seats in the new parliament (contesting perhaps 40%), desiring a broad alliance comprising secular socialists, liberals and Christians alike.  Moreover, the Brotherhood will not put up a candidate for president.  This outlook was confirmed by Mohamed el-Beltagi, a Brotherhood leader, who professed that the movement would be reserved in their political undertakings ‘until the time there are forces that can compete.  At that point, we will take part in the competition’.

Any effort to delay the transition from military rule to civilian government would be counterintuitive to the premise of the revolution.  Ideally, with presidential powers being only partly tempered, a new constitution would be penned and enacted by a newly elected parliament prior to presidential polls, thereby circumventing the entire issue of amendments not going far enough.  However, such an outcome is unlikely.  As such, installing a civilian president is inherently less objectionable from a democratic perspective than retaining military rule, particularly given the penchant of generals in the region for prolonged political activity – Field Marshal Mohammed Tantawi, let us not forget, tasted governmental power as minister of defence under Mubarak for some twenty years, perhaps adding to the urgency surrounding transition.  The “yes” vote, therefore, while on amendments that perhaps do not go as far as they could, should be read as a beacon of hope in a sea of turmoil.  Perhaps the upheaval and turmoil have been worthwhile.

*UPDATE*

• On 23 March, in a crucial step towards reinvigorating political life in Egypt, a law easing the restrictions that distorted political life was passed, allowing the formation of new political parties that will be able to compete in legislative and presidential elections scheduled to take place later this year.  The law is expected to result in a multitude of new parties, opening up real political choice in the country for the first time.  Amongst the new parties is likely to be the Freedom and Justice Party, formed by the Muslim Brotherhood.

• On 28 March, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces announced legislative elections are to be held in September, with emergency laws being lifted prior to the polls.  This gives parties, many of whom were crushed under Mubarak, some five months to prepare for the first free elections in decades.  However, Mamdouh Shaheen, a member of the Council, said that a date had yet to be set for presidential elections.  With power not being transferred to the civilian-led government until after presidential polls, the military’s initial target of transition within six months is destined to be missed.  However, this raises hopes that a new constitution can be approved prior to a president taking over.

The Arab Revolt: Revolution Without Religion

The scent of jasmine carries across the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) on the winds of change that continue to blow across the region.  As the revolutionary bent that was born in Tunisia continues to spread, the Arab world is awakening to the potential for change: no longer do the peoples of the MENA region feel constrained to a life dominated by authoritarian strongmen who embezzle state funds and suppress political freedoms in all manifestations.  Importantly, another conclusion being broadly realised as a result of the pro-democracy demonstrations is that, although related, politics and religion in the region need not be inseparable; the choice in the region is not restricted to Islamism and dictatorship alone.

In an address broadcast on state television, Colonel Gaddafi this week proclaimed that the anti-government protests that have crippled Libya, provoking a violent response that has attracted international condemnation, were directly linked to Osama Bin Laden; al-Qaeda, Gaddafi proposed, is responsible for proselytising youths below the age of prosecution, through a combination of drugs and alcohol, to partake in ‘destruction and sabotage’.  Similarly, both Ben Ali and Mubarak blamed “the Islamists” for stirring dissent, while King Abdullah of Jordan implied al-Qaeda influence and Bahraini authorities proclaimed the meddling of Hizbollah.  That Gaddafi persists in his claims serves only to add further credence to assertions from Susan Rice, US ambassador to the UN, that Libya’s leader is ‘delusional’ and ‘unfit to lead’.  However, with the issue of religion having been almost wholly absent from the protests, barring (largely Western) concerns raised regarding the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt, such accusations are alarmingly wide of the mark.  This begs the question of whether Arab despots genuinely misread the situation in horrific fashion, or chose a path of ignorance and further suppression only to be thwarted by a combination of determined revolutionaries and the emergence of powerful social media tools.  

It is something of a necessity that those who promote democracy in the Muslim world will, sooner or later, be forced to deal with Islamists.  To associate all Islamist groups with extremist goals is,  nonetheless, incredibly naive; the mildly Islamic Justice and Development Party that governs in Turkey is the perfect exemplification of the ability of Islam and politics to engage constructively, with a non-secular party having secular objectives and proving itself capable of playing within the democratic framework.  Indeed, as Charlemagne highlights, not all groups bearing an “Islamic” prefix or suffix are puppets of the Iranian ayatollahs or colleagues of Bin Laden.  This failure to distinguish between different strands of Islam-inspired political groups has long been an error of Europeans, purposefully or otherwise, contributing to the prolonged existence of totalitarian regimes.  Thus, while Hamas was indeed an offshoot of Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood, the Egyptian Brotherhood has declared itself to be non-violent and has embraced democracy, much to the ire of al-Qaeda.  This exodus of radical elements to form separate external factions following failed efforts to influence the Brotherhood’s ideology, coupled with renewed efforts to gain power legitimately through the ballot box, seemingly contradicts Western fears that the embrace of democracy is opportunistic, aimed at a system of “one man, one vote, one time”.

Very mention of the Brotherhood often causes great unease in the West, largely attributable to incomprehension pertaining to the precise nature and objectives of the movement.  No two branches are the same:  the designation of various groups as counterparts is arguably a misnomer, based largely on common ancestry.  Thus, the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt recently announced that they would form a legitimate political party, though they would not field a candidate in the forthcoming presidential elections – symptomatic of belief in democratic norms of inclusion and participation rather than a determination to impose a shari’a state.  Talking with Islamists, even those with objectionable views, and including them within a democratic system is not symbolic of “Islamisation” or of an acceptance of their beliefs; inclusion is a fundamental tenet of democracy, with any unpopular worldview being judged by the court of popular opinion.  Such an identification should, as a bare minimum, be afforded such an appraisal.  By equal measure, as the region begins to recognise democratic aspirations, the role of the West must be to assist where needed, but not to interfere where not wanted and attempt to impose democracy at gunpoint.

Possibly the most striking characteristic of the wave of protests is that genuine political protest has been entangled with religion only in the minds of those authoritarian leaders whose tenure was suddenly placed under the microscope.  Even in Bahrain, ruled by a Sunni minority, the protests have remained secular and non-sectarian, focussing on political demands for greater freedoms, fuller democracy and economic improvements.  Sheikh Ali Salman, head of the al-Wefaq party, denied that demonstrations in Manama had been orchestrated by Iran as a means to exert greater political influence in the region, while Jaffar al-Shayeb, a Saudi Shia and political activist, described the demonstrations as being about ‘national demands’ and ‘political reform’ – issues which draw Sunni Bahrainis alongside their Shia brethren.  However, this is where many problems originate.  Demands  for “freedom” and “democracy” carry with them heavy connotations, an understanding of which is not straightforward owing to the dynamic nature of such concepts.  As Maya Zippel correctly points out, ousting a despotic ruler – often seen as the ‘final piece of the puzzle’ – is but the first step of a lengthy transition process that requires compromise on all sides in building a state infrastructure capable of handling political renewal.  Will the demonstrators be capable of maintaining their appetite for democratic reform throughout?

The answer so far appears to be a resounding “yes”, despite actual reform throughout MENA getting off to a slow start.  After twelve straight days of protests, the Bahraini government declared on 25 February that it was ready for compromise, with King Hamad ordering the release of several Shia prisoners under royal pardon and inviting protesters to talks on political reform.  Protesters, however, insist the move is not enough; demands that the government resign, the deaths of protesters be investigated, and political reforms leading to a constitutional monarchy be implemented continue to echo around Manama.  Similarly in Egypt, the Supreme Military Council has moved only slowly: while 10 days of consultations have produced a cabinet reshuffle, with members of the opposition Wafd and Tagammu parties now being represented, as well as a constitutional reform committee, controversial and disliked figures, such as Ahmed Aboul Gheit and Ahmed Shafiq, remain within the regime.  However, such a slow pace of reform was the topic of further demonstrations in Cairo’s Tahrir Square; protesters vowed to return every Friday until change is enacted, though such gatherings represent more a celebration of the undertaking of reform and the dawn of a new era, gently seeking to move the process along, rather than displaying the emotional revolutionary fervour that Mubarak sought to dampen.  Likewise in Tunisia, Mohammed Ghannouchi, a veteran of many Ben Ali governments, resigned only this week after prolonged protests that saw him dismiss many of the old guard from the cabinet.  They may be moving slowly, but, importantly, the wheels of change are turning.  So far, protesters have not been duped by token tweeks that would prolong the regime.

Another important and interlinked feature of the pro-democracy demonstrations that have swept across the MENA region is that of Israel.  Or, more precisely, the lack of Israel’s mention.  That Tel Aviv has been a background issue at most should not be surprising, given the secular nature of the demands of the protesters.  While Mark LeVine suggests that the second intifada movement was a source of much solidarity that aided the coordination and fortitude of the protesters as a result of Cairo’s active branch of the Palestine Solidarity Committee, what is more interesting is the potential that the pro-democracy movement in the region holds to unseat opposition to Israel as the dominant unifying force throughout the Muslim world.  Recognition that the prominence of corruption and oppression are the root causes of many problems across the region, while currently overshadowing peace talks, may in the long run contribute to jolting the Middle East peace process into meaningful action.

With demonstrations continuing across the MENA region, exactly how far they will spread remains to be seen.  Oman, which had avoided much of the regional unrest, recently experienced pro-reform rallies that stimulated a cabinet reshuffle and an increase in social benefits for students.  Saudi Arabia’s King Abdullah, on returning to the Kingdom following a 3-month medical absence, announced a series of benefits totalling $10.7bn, including funding to offset high inflation and to aid the many young unemployed people and Saudi citizens studying abroad, as well the writing off some loans.  These are clearly efforts to placate any revolutionary ferment before substantial pro-democracy sentiment has chance to assimilate.  Demonstrations, however, are unlikely in the Saudi kingdom as a consequence of the vast oil wealth that enables the House of Saud to “buy”  popular acquiescence.

As an interesting aside, many MENA states share several features with regimes in Asia: autocratic regimes holding power for decades, widespread political repression, and a harsh economic environment with instances of drastic inequality between the ruling elites and many within the general populace.  Could the “Jasmine Revolution” spread into totalitarian Asia?  While similar underlying conditions are present, the flight to Asia is unlikely.  Significant structural differences, such as the prominence of party machines throughout the state infrastructure in authoritarian countries such as China and North Korea, complicate the notion of pro-democracy (or anti-regime) protests.  Equally, the alarming efficiency with which repressive media controls are implemented by such regimes prevents the flow of information.  For instance, Linkedin, the business networking site, was shut down by Beijing authorities on 25 February after a user set up a forum discussing the notion of a “Jasmine Revolution”, while internet users inside China reported that some sites were also blocking information on Jon Huntsman, the US ambassador to Beijing spotted attending a pro-democracy protest.  While the authorities continue to scrupulously censor micro-blogging and internet sites, preventing the spread of revolutionary fever, the chances of unrest remain minimal.