Sean Hanley waxes eloquent on Sovereignty

Excellent post today by Sean Hanley on the potential of the “new”(ish) Czech Party “Sovereignty” which perfectly corresponds to all that is interesting to me about the region’s politics these day:

Sovereignty’s politics are straightforward:   a mix of Czech nationalism, euroscepticism and the anti-elite, outsider rhetoric that many people like to call populism. It is, its website makes clear, a party ‘…defending the interests of citizens of the Czech Republic…’ with the conservatve-nationalist strap-line “Law, Labour, Order”

Full post is here: http://drseansdiary.wordpress.com/2011/07/20/czech-republic-sovereignty-a-party-to-watch/

You’re a mean one, Mr. Z.

Congratuations to MF Dnes for publishing one of the most sinister images of a politician I’ve ever seen.  (“No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die.”)  It is also, in its way, one of the most beautiful.  Click on the image to see Milos Zeman’s hard-earned lines and crags.


Unfortunately, I think the text contains a misprint, suggesting that Zeman rejects Islam as “anticivilization” because of it’s relationship to women. I think Zeman actually was referring to something else even nearer to his heart.  Here’s the correct version, I think:

Fulbright Opportunities in Slovakia and the Czech Republic

Slovakia HeartI love Slovakia.  I also love the Czech Republic.  Czech HeartAnd if you do to–or if you want to–now’s your chance:  Fulbright Scholarships to both of these countries are available and–with the right plan of action–not out of reach for any US citizen with academic interests.  I went as a researcher but they are also–especially–looking for those who would go there as teachers, and most academic specializations would have something to contribute.  I am exceedingly grateful to have had this chance and I /strongly/ recommend others to take a chance.  Even the process of application is useful for helping plan for the future.  Fulbright has a nice flyer on this–see below or click here for a pdf–that you can use or pass on to others among colleagues and friends, and you can find out more here: www.iie.org/cies

Make your own country name, part II. This time with real countries

This is the way the world ends, not with a b-a-n-g but with an -n-i-a.

At least that’s the way a good share of the world’s country names end. Having used fictional country data to make “maps” of the beginnings and endings of non-existent countries, it was an obvious next step to try it with the real world. So as with Ballnavia and Slaka and Molvania, I inverted the names on the United Nations member list (English-language version) and alphabetized by last letter and then arrayed them graphically with size representing frequency (actually it represents frequency squared, but I think that actually helps draw out the patterns). What I got was actually not much different from the results for make-believe Europe:

world-country-names-endings
I did the same with a normal forward-facing alphabetization. and again got a similar result, again suggesting that country beginnings are the source of much more variety than country endings.

So from here it’s a simple step to yet another matrix of beginnings and endings, again ranked by my formula of “length of character string” times “frequency of appearance.”  Draw lines from prefix to suffix to make your own country names.  Add letters in between to increase the excitement:

Pts. # Prefix <————-> Suffix # Pts.
20 10 MA IA 37 74
18 3 UNITED LAND 9 36
16 2 DOMINICA STAN 7 28
15 3 SAINT NIA 9 27
15 5 MAL ISTAN 5 25
12 2 GUINEA REPUBLIC 3 24
10 2 NIGER TAN 8 24
10 5 CO ANIA 5 20
10 5 MO GUINEA 3 18
10 5 PA KISTAN 3 18
9 3 BEL ELAND 3 18
9 3 MON LANDS 3 15
8 2 MALA ICA 5 15
8 2 SLOV RICA 3 12
8 2 TURK MBIA 3 12
8 4 CA ERIA 3 12
6 2 BAH SIA 4 12
6 2 CHI KOREA 2 10
6 2 GRE NESIA 2 10
6 2 IRA ILAND 2 10
6 2 IND CONGO 2 10
6 2 LIB ES 5 10
6 3 AN ANA 3 9
6 3 BO INA 3 9
6 3 BU NADA 2 8
6 3 NE ANDA 2 8
6 3 SE ALIA 2 8
6 3 SO ENIA 2 8
6 3 SW ONIA 2 8
4 2 AL GUAY 2 8
4 2 AR DIA 2 6
4 2 AU VIA 2 6
4 2 BR DAN 2 6
4 2 FI AIN 2 6
4 2 GA DOR 2 6
4 2 GE LA 3 6
4 2 JA TI 3 6
4 2 LA AL 3 6
4 2 LE CO 3 6
4 2 NA AR 3 6
4 2 PO OS 3 6
4 2 SI US 3 6
4 2 SU YA 2 4
4 2 TO CE 2 4
4 2 TA EN 2 4
AS 2 4
AU 2 4

And what can we take from this?  Well, if you’re a serious, reality-minded person, not much.  But if you like to make stuff up and tell stories and have fun with words, then you get some great new opportunities to create things that sound like countries but really aren’t.  Below, in alphabetical order, because I can’t pick a favorite, is a partial list of some of the possibilities.  Some are just variations on existing country names with the right amount of detail in the prefix:  Malistan and Malaguay sound about right, with the right number of syllables and are enriched by the common prefix “Mal”–with its ominous undertones in Latin and its implication of smallness in Slavic languages).  Mondor, too, sounds sinister, though not quite as bad as its its Middle-Earth counterparts.

Among the others, I like the triple combination of Tailand, Toeland and Toiland (somewhere between Santa’s workshop and the nearby WC).  Two others–Monica and Nadia–highlight the similarity between country names and Indo-European names for females.  Panada and Swina sound vaguely like animals.  Many sound like serious medical conditions, especially Annesia, Mania, Maleria and Maladia.  And there are some that end in the “ya” sound, and begin with verb-sounding prefixes.  Tasia sounds like “Tase ya” (no place for Andrew Meyer) and the same possibilities apply to Suya (a response, perhaps, to Tasia), to Bombia, and, somewhat less belligerently, to Combia and Boeria.  And one of the really nice things about the list is that contains at least two “real” fake countries:  Sodor, far more real to most 4-year-old Thomas the Tank Engine fans than the country in which they actually live, and Catan, equally real to many players of German-style board games.  So, to would-be game designers, authors of children’s stories, and all those others who want to see their name in lights, I say use the chart.  Neonia is within reach.

  • ANANA
  • ANNESIA
  • BOMBIA
  • CATAN
  • COMBIA
  • COSIA
  • FINESIA
  • IRAMBIA
  • MALADIA
  • MALAGUAY
  • MALERIA
  • MALISTAN
  • MANIA
  • MONDOR
  • MONICA
  • NADIA
  • NEONIA
  • PANADA
  • SAINT REPUBLIC
  • SODOR
  • SUYA
  • SWINA
  • TAILAND
  • TASIA
  • TOELAND
  • TOILAND
  • UNITEDLAND

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

P.S. It’s hard for me not to notice that Sodor Railways logo on the Wikipedia page, while obviously lovingly crafted by a fan with strong graphics skills also bears a striking and unfortunate resemblance to another not too different insignia with a black squiggly line inside white circle on a dark red field.   As Marta von Trapp wisely observes in The Sound of Music, “Maybe the flag with the black spider makes people nervous!”

Work in progress: Thinking about cleavages, part IV

The last post pointed toward a successor that would talk more about dimensions of competition, emphasizing the “non-primary” dimensions.  This allows some attention to the emerging question of “niche” parties and points directly to the question of salience that I promised would follow.  From this we can then look at the links between the kinds of conflicts and their roots in society (or lack thereof).

And one final preliminary note: what follows is far longer and more detailed than anything I intended.  The material here pushed itself in this direction and I merely hung on for the ride.)

The analysis in the previous post suggested a fairly wide consensus about the relatively narrow degree of dimensionality in most polities: something more than one dimension, but rarely more than two dimensions, at least not two dimensions of significance equal to the first.  What scholars find in most cases–whether they use manifesto data or expert survey data–is configurations that consist of one dominant dimension of conflict along with one or more subordinate dimensions, (analogous to the “one and two-halves party system” metaphor discussed with some disdain by Sartori (1976, 168) or perhaps metaphorically akin to the higher dimensions in string theory which are curved tightly in on themselves). The primary dimension is most often but not always socio-economic.  The number, type and strength of non-primary dimensions vary rather significantly from country to country (and, Stoll [2010] would suggest, over time).

The question is how we should handle these various dimensions in scholarly analyses.  The major dimension(s) provide(s) a challenge in their composition, in how many issues they bundle.  Bakker’s work suggests that in most Western European countries the economic dimension bundles in the GAL-TAN dimension bundle whereas in some (especially Greece and Austria) it does so to a much smaller degree.  In postcommunist Europe, by contrast, the overall tightness of the bundling is somewhat lower (both mean and median correlations between economic and GAL-TAN positions are lower by about 0.10).

For the dimensions beyond the primary conflict, problems of definition are different and there are questions of measurement and significance.   These secondary and tertiary dimensions are clearer in that they bundle fewer issues, but our everyday vocabulary–and even our scholarly vocabulary–is ill-equipped to deal with these dimensions and the parties that occupy them.

Perhaps the most significant evidence of this inadequacy is the recent emergence of the notion of the “niche” party into active scholarly consideration.  A slightly-more-than cursory search of electronic sources suggests that this term has shifted over time from a rather idiosyncratic and descriptive term toward a theoretically-grounded concept.

The etymology of the term “niche” is little help, deriving from the architectural term for “a  recess for a statue”(OED http://www.oed.com/?authRejection=true&url=%2Fview%2FEntry%2F126748) into a variety of meanings that imply removal, seclusion, and a general notion of “apartness.”  During the past century ecologists have transformed the word into a metaphor of suitability: every living thing has a “niche” outside of which it is not as fit for survival.

Nor does the phrase “niche party” have a long history that would offer suggestions on how it is best to be used.  The phrase does not to have been in common use before the early 1990’s, with no mentions at all in the Lexis-Nexis Academic Universe or Google Books databases before 1993.  The early uses of the term appear between 1993 and 1999 tend to apply to small parties in systems with two or three dominant parties: the Progressive Democrats in Ireland, the New Democratic Party in Canada, the Ethnic Minority Party and Christian Heritage Party in New Zealand, and Shas in Israel.

Gallagher in 1993 characterizes a “‘niche’ party” as “looking for support from certain groups” and contrasts this strategy with that of a “catchall party” (66, http://bit.ly/ktoN6Q).  A later commentator from New Zealand extends this metaphor directly into the realm of aquaculture:

[Green Party co-leader Rod Donald] used “a fishing analogy to describe the difference between a broad-spectrum party and a niche party. The former “‘trawl” to catch as many voters as possible, while the latter use a more selective long line.  (Luke, Peter. 1999. “Push-button parties.”  The Press. 23 October, section 1, p. 11.)

Niche parties are thus somehow distinctive, small, and unlikely to get much bigger.  Beyond these core characteristics, however, the precise identification of niche parties becomes more difficult and the boundaries between definitional and empirical limits begins to blur.  More recent definitions help to narrow down the field, but they do not necessarily agree.

Perhaps the most specific of the recent definitions is the one provided by Meguid in her meticulous 2005 analysis of the interaction between “niche” and “mainstream” parties.  It is notable, first, that Meguid defines “niche” against “mainstream” rather than “catchall,” suggesting that the difference lay not (solely) in the way a party seeks to attract its voters but rather (also) in its position within the broader party system.  “Niche” here means “away from the main”

Her definition involves three distinct aspects dealt with here or in previous (or future) posts on this topic: voter base, issue dimension and the degree of issue bundling

First, niche parties reject the traditional class-based orientation of politics. Instead of prioritizing economic demands, these parties politicize sets of issues which were previously outside the dimensions of party competition…  [T]hese parties … challenge the content of political debate.

Second, the issues raised by the niche parties are not only novel, but they often do not coincide with existing lines of political division. Niche parties appeal to groups of voters that may cross-cut traditional partisan alignments.

Third, niche parties further differentiate themselves by limiting their issue appeals. They eschew the comprehensive policy platforms common to their mainstream party peers, instead adopting positions only on a restricted set of issues. Even as the number of issues covered in their manifestos has increased over the parties’ lifetimes, they have still been perceived as single issue parties by the voters. Unable to benefit from pre-existing partisan allegiances or the broad allure of comprehensive ideological positions, niche parties rely on the salience and attractiveness of their one policy stance for voter support.  (Meguid 2005, 347-348)

Adams et al (2006) accept some of these restrictions but not all of them.  Their definition focuses on ideology but rejects the need for a cross-cutting ideological dimension or the abandonment of class politics.  Instead they accept as “niche” those

party families who present either an extreme ideology (such as Communist and extreme nationalist parties) or a noncentrist “niche” ideology ( i.e., the Greens). (Adams et al, 2006, 513, http://www.jstor.org/stable/3694232 .)

The key underlying factor for Adams et al thus appears to be some kind of distance from the dimensional segment defined by the main parties; niche parties are either in the same plane as the main competition but some distance from the nearest competitor on its side, or they are some distance away from the main dimension on a secondary or tertiary dimension.  Graphically, the difference between Meguid and Adams et al looks something like this:

 

Removing the restrictions on the main dimension of competition/class-based appeals is significant.  It minimizes the question of dimensionality, replacing it with proximity (“extreme”, “non-centrist”), and also eliminates Meguid’s demographic limitations that exclude class-based parties from the “niche” category.

Wagner offers a simplified version of Meguid, defining “niche parties” as those “that de-emphasise economic concerns and stress a small range of non-economic issues”(2011, 3, http://homepage.univie.ac.at/markus.wagner/Paper_nicheparties.pdf)

Wagner’s analysis lends itself to an elegant graph that defines niche parties in strictly economic terms and places in the  mainstream any party that either emphasizes economic issues or avoids non-economic issues:

Wagner’s definition thus sets aside any notion of the demographic basis of class competition (potentially opening the door to Communist parties) but it also removes the degree of extremeness of a party’s position in favor of a pure reliance on emphasis (excluding Communist parties from a different direction).  The simplification allows him to address and measure the “niche-ness” of specific parties rather than assuming it based on a party’s “family” which may for an individual party be a poor fit (Bresanelli 2011 finds a fairly large number of parties whose manifestos do not match well with those of others in their European Parliament group, with the share of such parties particularly high in postcommunist Europe, http://euce.org/eusa/2011/papers/6f_bressanelli.pdf).  Wagner’s party-specific measure also accommodates changes over time to and from the “niche” category as parties pick raise or lower their economic and non-economic emphases.  This more nuanced analysis has its limitations: Wagner establishes economic policy as the only dimension used for distinguishing mainstream from niche, and he establishes binary cut-off points for economic and non-emphasis.  Even here, however, he suggests some flexibility: he acknowledges both the possibility of a scalar alternative to the binary cutoff points, and he suggests the possibility of a non-economic variant  for “party systems in some countries are defined more strongly by, for example, ethnic divisions” (9)

An even more recent piece by Miller and Meyer offer an alternative that strengthens Wagner at its weakest points: the binary distinction and the lack of attention to alternative dominant dimensions (2011, http://staatswissenschaft.univie.ac.at/uploads/media/Miller___Meyer_-_To_the_Core_of_the_Niche_Party.pdf).  Miller and Meyer define “niche parties”as those that “compete by stressing  other policies than their competitors“(4) or, according to another formulation in the paper, “A niche party emphasizes policies neglected by its rivals”(5). They operationalize this relatively simple definition with a measure that “compares a party’s policy profile with the (weighted) average of the remaining party system” across multiple dimensions (11).  In the process they depart from Wagner’s use of the economic dimension as a baseline for “the mainstream”: “We conclude that – while economic niches might be rare – to exclude them by definition unnecessarily restricts the concept”(8).  The formula also generates a scale which allows comparison of parties according to the “degree of nicheness.”

The formula is intuitive and easy to grasp.   The farther a party is from all other parties on a given dimension–in terms of emphasis, it must be remembered, and not policy position–the higher is the niche score for its position on that dimension.  The more niches its positions on a variety of issues, the more it can be considered a niche party.  My first attempt to give a visual picture of how distances translate into niche positions is the spatial approach below:

This is misleading,however, because we are used to reading these kinds of graphs as representing positions whereas in this case they represent intensities.  It is therefore useful (and more fun) to reconceptualize the map in terms color, with each party’s emphasis translating into a score on 3 color dimensions: red, blue and green. In this case the intensity of color is roughly analogous to difference from the center (which would be flat grey).  Bright in this case equals “nichy.”

Party A and B occupy opposite positions on a single issue dimension (which could be taken here to be the “main” one except that this method does not identify a “main dimension”) and are low-emphasis on all the others. They thus have quite low niche scores and are quite grey.  Party C’s niche score is even lower because it is likewise low-emphasis on all issues except one and (thanks to parties A, B and G, it is relatively close to the mean on that one issue.  Parties D, E, F, and G all have unbalanced emphasis in their own way, either on one issue (E and G) or two (D) or all three (F) and are therefore brightly colored.  It is noteworthy here that while starting closer to Meguid’s notion of dimensionality than to that of Adams et al, Miller and Meyer end up allowing niche status to parties on any dimension of competition as long as it sufficiently different from the emphasis of other parties.

In practical use, this measure still exhibits a certain degree of awkwardness. In particular it appears to be highly sensitive to number and type of dimensions used for calculating the overall niche scores.  Miller and Meyer use party manifesto data arranged in well-defined categories for Western Europe which appears to serve them well (I cannot judge at first glance), but for Eastern Europe where manifesto data is notoriously problematic, this method might not work as well (and it certainly depends in Miller and Meyer’s case on the not-always-accurate assumption that the sheer amount of verbiage translates into emphasis).  The method should, in theory, be usable with expert survey data on the salience of issues for particular parties, but these vary substantially in terms of what “dimensions” they ask about.  As a result, the results for “niche-ness” of particular parties can differ, even in relatively stable party systems.  The two tables below present results of my preliminary calculations for the two countries I know better than others using the available expert survey data on emphasis.  The results are extremely consistent for some parties and quite different for others, particularly those with some “niche” characteristics or others.

Table 1. Niche scores for parties in the Czech Republic based on Expert Surveys

Party Expert Surveys Overall My own assessment
2002 Eurequal 2006 North Carolina 2007 Eurequal (evaluated dimensions) 2007 Eurequal (policy areas)
CSSD -0.2 -0.3 +0.1 -0.1 Mainstream through intermediate Mainstream
KDU-CSL +0.1 +.6 -0.2 +0.1 Mainstream through niche Interesting question
KSCM -0.1 +0.2 -0.1 +0.4 Intermediate through niche Interesting question
Nezavisli -0.1 Intermediate
ODA +1.1 High
ODS -0.3 +0.0 -0.0 -0.2
Mainstream through intermediate
Mainstream
SNK-ED -0.8 Mainstream
SZ -0.1 +0.5 +0.8 Intermediate to niche Interesting question
US +0.4 Intermediate

Table 2. Niche scores for parties in Slovakia based on Expert Surveys

Party Expert Surveys Overall My own guess
2002 Eurequal 2006 North Carolina 2007 Eurequal (evaluated dimensions) 2007 Eurequal (policy areas)
ANO +0.7 Niche
HZDS -0.4 -0.8 -0.5 -0.4 Mainstream Mainstream(at first)
KDH +1.1 +0.4 +0.6 +0.0 Intermediate through niche Intermediate through niche
KSS -0.0 +0.1 Intermediate Interesting question
PSNS -0.1 Intermediate Interesting question
SDKU +0.1 +.01 +0.0 +0.5 Intermediate through niche Mainstream through intermediate
SF -0.6 Mainstream
Smer -0.3 -0.5 +0.2 +0.2 Mainstream through intermediate Mainstream
SMK -.01 +0.7 +0.2 -0.1 Intermediate through niche Niche if there ever was one
SNS +0.2 +0.7 +0.0 -0.1 Intermediate through niche Interesting question

Used here the method does a fairly good job identifying parties that are clearly mainstream by any reckoning–the Czech ODS and CSSD and the Slovak Smer–but for other parties there is significant disagreement, and many of the parties producing the sharpest disagreements are those that defy easy non-quantitative categorization.

  • Green parties:  The Green party would be considered “niche” by both Meguid and Adams et al and falls into that categorization in both measures of the 2007 Eurequal survey but not in the 2006 North Carolina survey, in large part because the North Carolina survey simply does not have a measurement of environmental questions and so its niche-ness comes out only on lifestyle and ethnic minority questions.
  • Communist parties.  Both the Slovak and Czech communist parties (the unreconstructed ones rather than their social democratic successor parties) emerge as slightly but not overwhelmingly more niche-like than other parties.  That such parties are an open question corresponds well with the disagreement between Meguid and Adams et al about whether to include them in the niche category.
  • Christian Democratic parties.  While not included in either Meguid or Adams categories, such parties in postcommunist Europe (and in certain parts of Western Europe, particularly Scandinavia) often appear to operate by many of the principles specified by Meguid: avoiding class based appeals (they did this from early on), taking up issues off the main issue dimension (church and morality issues are not the main dimension in most of these countries), and keeping a relatively narrow range of issues, though they did at least claim to take positions across all of the major issue areas.  Both the Slovak and Czech Christian Democrats  put a foot in the niche category and in the 2002 survey Slovakia’s Christian Democratic Movement receives the highest niche score of any party in the survey.  At the same time it (and its Czech counterpart) show few niche qualities at all in the 2007 Eurequal survey long version, because their distinctive stands on lifestyle issues are diluted by an extremely large number of economy-related questions in the survey.
  • Ethnic minority parties.  Slovakia brings three additional parties into the niche debate, all of which made strong ethnic-based appeals.  The most clearly niche-like party of these three–indeed perhaps of all the parties listed in the two tables above–is SMK (the Party of the Hungarian Coalition)–a party with an almost purely ethnic Hungarian voting base and no major policy issues beyond minority rights and related issues.  Yet this party produces a high niche score only in the 2006 North Carolina survey which has three questions (out of a total of twelve) on nationalism, ethnic minorities, and decentralization.  The same survey suggests an equally high niche score for the SNS (the Slovak National Party) which takes diametrically opposed but equally emphatic positions on the same issues.
  • Liberal parties.  Finally, there is the question of liberal parties.  These are often small parties, sometimes with relatively narrow issue emphases, but because in Western Europe they tend to compete on the main issue dimensions,  they rarely fall into the niche category and are not included either by Meguid or Adams.  In Slovakia and the Czech Republic, however, they often appear to fall into this category.  The Czech party US (Freedom Union) received a positive niche score in because of its position on social rights (matched and countered by its election coalition partner, the Christian Democrats) and another liberal party, ODA received one of the highest niche scores on the 2002 Eurequal survey (though largely because the party was by then moribund and received low salience scores on nearly every question.  In Slovakia, one small liberal party returned extremely mainstream scores (SF, Free Forum) but two others returned scores that were mixed on the niche side (SDKU, the Slovak Democratic and Christian Union) or strongly niche-like (ANO, the Alliance of the New Citizen) on the basis of social rights questions which in Slovakia (as in the Czech Republic) are not a high salience issue when compared to others.

Even if this application of Miller and Meyer’s formula in this form and with this data does not (yet) provide a fully reliable measure, their standard for measuring niche parties does gets at the key issues of “niche-ness” in Central Europe and helps us think more clearly about politics in the region.

Meguid took a helpful first step with her attention to secondary and tertiary issue dimensions, and Wagner and Miller and Meyer add a useful emphasis on issue salience that edges into areas of issue ownership.  One way to think about what politics is “about” in a particular country is to look at what the main political forces fight about and what other political forces “fight to fight about” turning political debate onto some other topic where they are strongest.  From Schattschneider and Riker through contemporary scholars such as Green-Pedersen, there has been a strong current of emphasis on the meta-struggle about the issues over which we struggle.  In this sense we might regard niche parties simply as those that achieve limited success in the herasthetic realm.  They neither fail so badly that they gain no voters nor succeed so well that their issue dimension becomes the dominant one.  Or (since according to Miller and Meyer this sort of  “niche-ness” is not static), they may be simply passing through from one of these extremes to another.  Niche parties thus call our attention to the partial dimensions that surround the main conflict, the asymmetrical battles between one party and all the rest.  They can be characterized as positional conflicts between two rival policies, but it may be better to characterize them as conflicts of attention between parties that do not care and parties that do.  So it is little surprise (in retrospect) that such parties behave differently from others since their struggle is not to attract voters to a position but rather to attract voters’ attention to that position and hold it there.

In a sense it could be argued that all parties seek to do this, even on main dimensions.  So called mainstream parties seek out the niches within the main stream as they try to attract attention to a specific aspect of the issue where they hold the advantage: Party A’s reputation for lowering taxes versus Party B’s reputation for improving services (Colomer and Puglisi 2005).  It is not clear to me whether this is qualitatively different from the kind of effort undertaken by niche parties, but it does seem different to the extent that the two issues are bound up in the minds of voters: if lowering taxes and improving services are inextricably linked in most voters’ minds, then Party A’s appeals to its own area of strength cannot but cast some attention to the rival strength of Party B.  It may be for this reason that a considerable part of party effort may be in this linking or de-linking of issues to one another.  If Party A can argue successfully that the level of taxation has nothing to do with the quality of service, then it can create for itself a “niche”–and because it is a niche within the main stream of political life, where voters are already passionate and attentive, it may hold the key to political majority.  For less-discussed, less-salient issues, an equally persuasive effort at projecting issue ownership will net fewer voters and so niches outside of the mainstream, and so such a party must expend its effort not only to persuade that its position is right, and not only that it is the best party to advance that position, but also that the position matters in the first place.  So we should expect niche parties to be different from other parties.

But perhaps by the same token we should expect niche parties to be different from one another, because some of these partial dimensions, secondary and tertiary dimensions may have fundamentally different characteristics from others.  And here it is necessary to raise the slippery question of demographics.  Demographic characteristics are admittedly less solid than they look.  Questions on public opinion surveys separate respondents into rigid, well-defined categories that seem relatively permanent but even once solid fixtures like class and religion are now in seemingly permanent definitional flux, and as with attitudes, the role of demography in political decision-making depends not only on an individual’s characteristics but on the salience of those characteristics in political struggle.  And salience is not the only fluctuating element.  A key element of demographic (and attitudinal) determinants of politics is the sense of mutual-recognition and groupness among those who share them.  These are often overlooked (perhaps because they are not easily quantified) but play a major role in shaping their importance.  Political decisions are not always made by individuals who participate in groups; they sometimes emerge within groups and capture the allegiance of the individuals involved.  That allegiance, like the demographic characteristics themselves, may be sticky, and may produce fairly high barriers between “in” and “out.”  And here, finally, is where niche parties come in.  Those whose partial issue dimensions depend on individual sentiment and loose attitudinal configurations should behave quite differently from those that stem from hard-to-change characteristics and mutually reinforcing social circles.  Both must constantly fight for the salience of their chief position; only some will do so by encouraging group identity and interconnection.

It is this latter consideration that now causes me to wonder a bit about the wonderful work by Meguid, Wagner and Miller and Meyer.  In one sense it exactly what we need: serious research about partial dimensions and their empirical dimensions and dynamics.  In another sense, though, it may be a misnomer to talk about this in terms of “niches.”  I am struck by a passage of Miller and Meyer which notes that “Niche parties do not have their nicheness carved in stone”(2011, 8) and the contrast between this interpretation and the original meaning of  niche which was by definition something carved in stone.  Of course etymology is not destiny, but there is something relevant about the carved-in-stone-ness of certain party positions.  Niche parties may all shift political competition to questions more relevant to their own programmatic strength, but there is a fundamental difference between greens and majority nationalists on the one hand and ethnic or religious minorities on the other.  The latter come as close as possible to the architectural metaphor of a niche: the recesses are deep and the walls around them quite thick and hard-to-penetrate.  Of course the same can also be said for some Communist Parties, which may explain their inclusion in the work of Adams et al.  Compared to these, majority nationalists or greens or cultural liberals (in Central and Eastern Europe at least) do not fit the same profile, do not face the same advantages in holding a well-defined voting base or the same difficulties in trying to expand.

This analysis suggests two different dimensions, producing three categories of niche party:

Issue Centrality
Primary
Dimension,
Full
Secondary/Tertiary Dimension,
Partial
Group closure Low Social Democrats Conservatives
Liberals
Greens
Majority nationalists
Some social liberals
High Communists
Some Christian democrats
Ethnic minorities
Religious minorities
Some Christian democrats

Some parties qualify as niche by either standard–they have both a high degree of group closure and a non-central issue.  Of the remainder, some exhibit only collectivity or identity niches but remain on the central dimension of competition, while other occupy (potentially less enduring) issue niches without a sense of group identity or commonality beyond the issue at hand.

This question needs more work that is not strictly relevant for my immediate purpose, so I will come back to it in future posts.  In the meantime, this discussion of niche parties leads directly into the last two topics I want to discuss in this “work in progress” series: issue salience and ownership and parties’ demographic and collective ties.  But more on those in a few days.

Slovakia Dashboard News, May 2011: In the Direction of a Majority?

Big poll yesterday from FOCUS and I’m trying to get back into the habit of updating these posts when big polls come out, so here goes a try at a quick review of recent public opinion polling events.

The big picture is, as it has been in the past 12 months, a shift away from the government coalition toward the opposition, a shift that has cost the coalition 10 percentage points over the last year and benefited the parliamentary opposition–especially Smer–by about the same amount.  The pattern is an almost mirror image of the last months of the 2006-2010 Fico government, though (as the graph below shows) slightly shallower.  With this month’s polling results, put the current coalition and opposition and opposition almost exactly where they were in January 2010, just six months before the election.

As I noted previously, this can’t be good news for the Radicova government or bad news for the opposition–especially Fico’s Smer–but it is interesting to think how pleased the then-opposition was in January 2010 about its gains in the previous year.  Of course now it’s in the same numerical position and sliding.

As before, the other noteworthy point is the internal composition of the coalition and opposition according to these polls.  Compared to January 2010, Smer has strengthened at the expense of SNS and HZDS.  Within the current coalition, the party strengths have remained surprisingly stable, and the drop has come largely from the ebb in support for SaS, which is not unpredictable but a bit worrisome for the coalition since its current majority would have been impossible without a new party to woo to the polls those secular pro-market voters who were disillusioned with Dzurinda’s SDKU.

Since I am moving now into individual parties, it is relevant to talk about some significant points in the month’s new data:

Parties Below the Threshold:
So one month after describing HZDS and MKP-SMK as “perennials in decline” both parties demonstrate a recovery.  Neither is back above the threshold, and neither is likely to be (except in coalition with somebody else) but they are not in free fall.  For both parties it is notable that two very different polls show parallel patterns of stabilization (for MKP) and slight rise (for HZDS), but also that the absolute levels are very different.  For HZDS, the Median polls have been consistently about a point higher than those of FOCUS, whereas for MKP it is the FOCUS polls that show results a stable 2+ points higher.  The firm Polis has only issued results of one poll this year, in early May, so we do not have a closer trendline, but the overall results are in line with the other polls: for MKP-SMK Polis has tended over time to find a middle level and does so again (an almost perfect mathematical mean of FOCUS and Median); for HZDS, Polis tends to find lower results than other polls (and in this proved the most accurate in the 2010 election) and it does so again in May with a result of 2.5.  A few more Polis polls would help the trendline, but it does not seem to be in their current plan.

The New Parties:
As may perhaps be expected of new parties with less stable electorates (though in retrospect that is simply conjecture and not something I know to be true from any research), Most-Hid and SaS have shown considerable change over time and almost random differences among polls.

All three recent polls put Most-Hid between 5 and 7 percentage points, but the range and patterns vary: FOCUS polls show a sharp decline from last month which was a sharp rise from the month before (suggesting a certain amount of noise around the 6% mark); Median polls show a drop and recovery.  Polis shows stabilization around 7% but with few monthly polls to show any recent pattern.

The decline of SaS has begun to look more serious.  A high result from Median in April contrasted with a low result from FOCUS so it was hard to tell.  This month all three polls show a drop, extremely sharp in FOCUS and (especially) Median and significant for Polis (which had shown the significant drop already late last year).  Given its current level and trajectory, the party will need significant positive news not to fall below the electoral threshold in one of the next two or three polls and produce the headline “SaS falls from parliament” which can itself encourage further out-migration.  Will its voters go to SDKU or to yet another new party?

The Small Perennials

Among the small but enduring parliamentary parties there is often not much to say.  This month is not much of an exception.

KDH tends to float between 8 and 10.  It is coming off a recent bulge last year when it moved above 10 for awhile, but now it is back down below 10.  There has been a bit of noise here: FOCUS put it below 7 last month but now has it back near 10.  Median has shown it consistently around 10.  Polis, showed a sharp drop last year and has it below 7.  The real answer is probably around 8 or 9, but that’s been the best guess for KDH for about the last 17 years whether one reads polls or not.

The overall trajectory of SNS is flat (which is good news for SNS since its trajectory has been one of consistent decline over the last 2 years and since it does not have too far to go before it falls below the 5% threshold).   Polls seem to take turns being the outlier.  This month the outlier is FOCUS with 8% (last month FOCUS put SNS at 6%).  Median has maintained a more consistent level of around 6% in recent months.  Polis, which consistently polls low for SNS (though as with HZDS was most accurate in predicting election results) puts it below 5%.  The party may gain as voters forget its corruption scandals, but it is not at present built to sustain much more than 5% of relatively extreme voters for whom “the nation” is everything.

The Large Perennials

There’s no unifying story for the poll results of the two largest parties, so I won’t try to tell one.  Polls disagree this month about how much SDKU has dropped, while they all agree that Smer has risen.

SDKU has dropped in all three polls but beyond that there is no consensus.  Polis shows a small drop from a high level, keeping the party above 18%.  Median shows a slightly larger drop from a slightly lower level, putting the party just below 16%.  FOCUS shows a huge drop from about the same level, dropping it to just above 12%.  Quite frankly for a party leading an rather fractious coalition this is less of a drop than I would have expected, though they do appear to have solid economic results on their side.

The big story, of course, would seem to be Smer so it is rather unfair of me to leave it to the end.  Smer has made quite a show of raising May poles in recent years and so it is perhaps fitting (if bad punsmanship) to note that in this case the May polls raise Smer, and by significant margins: two points in FOCUS, to 47% four points in Median, also to 47%, and five points (over 6 months) in Polis to 45%.  Even more significant, perhaps, is that for once this improvement does not come at the expense of similar parties such as SNS and HZDS, both of which also rose or stabilized this month.  Of course Smer is the natural recipient of those discontented with the current government. It has been relentless and extremely effective in its pressure on the government in a whole variety of realms, with multiple and fairly significant social policy critiques each week, constant pressure on the national issue and with battles over the general prosecutor and an impressive ability to join forces with dissenting coalition deputies on particular votes. Smer’s work over the last year demonstrates the potentially of a disciplined, leader-driven party better than almost anything I’ve seen, and poll results in the 40% range should help it to keep that discipline by allowing it to promise the rewards of office after the next election.

And at present Smer can at least promise the rewards of a solo-government, which must sweeten the deal even more, reducing the worries of some (in the more cosmopolitan/international wing of Smer) about the need for a coalition with SNS.  The question, though, is whether Smer will act on the assumption of a solo government and go after the voting base of HZDS and SNS, perhaps only to find itself achingly close to forming its own government but lacking a few crucial votes and no easy partners, or whether it will try something new: either bolstering (or at least not undercutting) SNS to make sure that it returns to parliament, or cultivating potential allies among existing parties such as Most-Hid or KDH, or perhaps cultivating (even covertly seeding) a new party that could fill the gap potentially left by SaS in the next election.

Works in progress: Thinking about cleavages, part III

The last post ended with a comment on the need for understanding the nature of the conflicts and the role of political institutions, but in retrospect that is a bit premature since before I can talk about the tension between the anchoring of conflicts in socio-demographic structures and the manipulation of conflicts by political elites, I need to explore further the nature of the conflicts themselves.

In the first post in this series, I raised a series of questions about cleavage-like conflict.  The second post tried to lay out the substance of those conflicts, at least as they concern postcommunist Europe.  I discussed both the socio-demographic and the attitudinal elements but stopped short of linking them because it is that linkage that is central to much of the controversy about “cleavages” and requires more attention than I had time to give.  And I was not really done with the conflict question, as I had not yet dealt with the questions of dimensionality, bundling, asymmetry or … and this may have to wait for yet another day, salience.  Here are the potentially problematic issues I raised in the first post:

  • The degree to which positions on those issues overlap with one another, and the size of the resulting “bundle” of aligned issues
  • The relative distribution of supporters and parties on particular issues or bundles (the degree to which disagreement is symmetrical and continuous or binary and asymmetrical, forming “niches”)
  • The degree to which a particular issue or bundle of issues is salient for political debate

In one sense I already started to deal with the question of bundling in the previous post to the extent that, short of arguing that an particular issue is not relevant, the only way to reduce the number of dimensions of analysis is to bundle some issues with others.  Of course all “issues” are themselves bundles of specific questions that touch on multiple dimensions.  in some cases multiple dimensions of debate may merge (or some may submerge) to form a single dimension of competition, whereas, as Colomer and Puglese note, a seemingly-unidimensional political question can quickly become the subject of a multi-dimensional debate (2006) (The phenomenon is  easily observable in the case of the U.S. health care debate in which some Republicans chose to attack the Obama admiminstration’s proposals on financial grounds while others focused on its relationship to abortion and euthanasia).

What emerges as a result is the challenge of measuring dimensionality:  how many dimensions shape political competition, and what specific issues do those actually contain.  As Budge and Fairlie note, the upper end of the dimensionality scale has “as many dimensions as there are political actors and public preferences held by them – forming an underlying space of almost infinite dimensions therefore”(cited in Colomer and Puglese). The need for clarity, however, calls for the least misleading possible reduction to a relatively small number.  At the far end of this process of reduction, is the uni-dimensional conflict between two dominant positions which bundle together everything else (the number of dimensions more or less inversely related to the size of their bundles).

The most common framework for understanding unidimensionality, of course, is “left” and “right.”  According to Mair (2007: 208) this framework still ”

appears to offer both sense and shape to an otherwise complex political reality’ at three levels. First, in terms of voters, data from the European Social Surveys conducted in recent years show that more than 80 per cent of voters define themselves as left- or right-wingers. Second, regarding observers and researchers ‘expert surveys’ systematically identify the left-right conflict as one of the most relevant issues in the competition among political parties. Third, with party programmes and electoral platforms, content analysis systematically shows that ‘some form of left-right dimension dominates competition at the level of the parties’ (Mair 2007: 209–210).

But in this dimensional reduction there emerge two significant follow-up questions:  what do “left” and “right” actually mean in any particular case?  and how much does the left-right dimension capture political competition in any particular country.

As Budge et al note, the positions bundled by “left” and “right” are highly idiosyncratic, differing from country to country and even from one time period to the next in a single country:

“The specific policy position contents of ‘left’ and ‘right’ or of ‘progressive’, ‘liberal’ and ‘conservative’ global ideological positions are accidental.”  ‘There is after all no logical or inherent reason why support for peace (for instance) should be associated with government interventionism (also for instance).’ (Budge et al 2001, 13)

The difficulty of finding a unified sense of “left” and “right” is especially difficult in postcommunist Europe where Communist-successor parties pursue pro-market economic reforms (Tavits2009) and where debates over ethnic rights and corruption defy easy categorization into “left” and “right.”  Nor do all “lefts” and “rights” easily coincide.

Recent research by Bakker et al (The Dimensionality of Party Politics in Europe, http://www.jhubc.it/ecpr-porto/virtualpaperroom/104.pdf) uses the University of North Carolina expert surveys to assess the correlations between party positions on an economic “left”-“right” scale as well as the Green-Alternative-Libertarian (GAL) versus (Traditional-Authoritarian-Nationalist) scale in which the former receives the label “left” while the latter is considered “right.”   They find an average correlation coefficient between the two scales 0.65 and a correlation coefficient above 0.50 in eighteen of the twenty-four European cases they study (EU members except for Cyprus, Malta and Luxembourg) and above 0.75 in nine of the twenty-four, suggesting that a left-right dimension is fairly reliable in many cases.  On this measure postcommunist countries actually scored slightly higher than other EU members.  A separate analysis of unbundled issues for the same set of countries found multiple dimensions in every country, but most of the twenty-four cases, the strength of the second dimension was well below that of the first, and the ranking of dimensionality in the countries corresponded relatively well to their rankings in the analysis of the hypothesized main dimensions.

Other aspects of their work, however, suggest a degree of caution about a simple left-right framework, particularly in post-communist Europe.  First, whereas all non-postcommunist cases yielded a positive correlation coefficient between economic left and “GAL Left,” among the postcommunist cases there was considerable variation:  three countries showed a positive correlation (Slovenia, Latvia, Estonia) while seven others produced a negative correlation in which “economic left” coincided with “TAN Right” (Hungary, Romania, Poland, Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, and Lithuania) and one case produced no correlation at all (Slovakia) (2010, 6).  Only in the first three cases, then, would it be possible to talk about a unidimensional left-right axis, while in the larger group of seven the unidimensionality is difficult to label (is a particular side to be called “left” after its economic aspects or right after its cultural aspects) and in final case the problem does not emerge because there is no dominant dimension.

The analysis also corresponds with the findings of Henjak (West European Politics 2010) and Whitefield and Rohrschneider (and before them, Lijphart, 1999), that while nearly all countries exhibit a fairly significant socio-economic dimension, there is considerable variation in the nature of the secondary and tertiary dimensions.  At the risk of going further afield, I will talk about those “other” dimensions in the next post (as promised, actually) before moving on to the question of salience and from there to the conflict-related interaction between voters, party organizations and party positions.

 

Works in progress: Thinking about cleavages, part II

The last post began what will probably be a fairly discussion of how we should think about “cleavages” in the early 21st century in what we currently call post-communist Europe (a conceptual framework that becomes less relevant every year).   I continue that discussion here with attention to one of the questions raised last time: The number and type of issues about which the main actors in the political system compete.

Today I simply begin with a list of “things that people say” and some cursory analysis. When scholars who work on Central and Eastern Europe look for the main dividing lines, whether at the level of socio-structural grouping or attitudinal/value difference, what do they tend to find?

Since there is no dominant framework, it is helpful look at commonly-used frameworks to find commonalities in assessments of “cleavage-type” divisions.  It is useful to start with broad multi-national assessments before delving into the specifics of individual cases.  Lijphart defines seven “issue dimensions of partisan conflict”(Patterns of Democracy, 1999, 79), many of which straddle the distinctions between socio-demographic and attitudinal categories

  • Socioeconomic
  • Religious
  • Cultural-ethnic
  • Urban-rural
  • Regime support
  • Foreign policy
  • Postmaterialist

A similar starting point focusing on Central and Eastern Europe appears in a 2010 literature survey by Berglund and Ekman who refer to the findings of the 2004 Handbook of Political Change in Eastern Europe and other sources when they define ten dividing lines in three broad categories related to periods of historical development (Handbook of European Societies, 100):

Historical 

  • Core population versus ethno-linguistic minorities
  • Religious versus secular
  • Urban versus rural
  • Workers versus owners
  • Social democrats versus communists

Contemporary

  • National versus cosmopolitan
  • Protectionist versus free market
  • Generational
  • Socio-economically disadvantaged versus occupational and managing elites

Transitional

  • Apparatus versus forums/fronts

Most of these refer to “demographic” clusters.  The first four recapitulate the framework established by Lipset and Rokkan, and two others in the “contemporary” list extend and nuance this list to include a more inclusive variant on “workers versus owners” and the question of generational differences.  Other entries on this list–those in italics–refer not to strictly demographic questions but to value or attitudinal questions about national identity and economic distribution which are related but not necessarily identical to the demographic categories.  Still others–those underlined–point more toward conflicts in the institutional realm related to party organization and party institutions.  In this list Lijphart’s more issue-based dimensions of foreign policy and postmaterialism are notably absent and the question of regime type appears only in partial form in the question of “apparatus versus forums.”

The nature of the list depends not only on the regional focus but the question at hand Kitschelt makes clear distinctions between the “fabric of sociodemographic traits and relations” on one hand and “preferences for political action” on the other, though he notes that both of these shape political choice (West European Politics, 2010, 661).  His assessment of the “fabric of traits” does not specify particular demographic groups, but rather identifies a list of eleven potentially important characteristics:

  • Age
  • Gender
  • Family
  • Status
  • Occupation
  • Income
  • Education
  • Skill
  • Risk exposure
  • Ethnic (divides)
  • Cultural (divides)

Many of these are consistent with Lipset and Rokkan’s list as used by Berglund and Ekman, but Kitschelt’s framework here moves away from identifying specific groups toward identifying specific dynamics: religiosity becomes a kind of cultural preference, while economic questions of sector and class are disaggregated into a combination of status, occupation type, income, skill, and risk exposure.

Other scholars have engaged in a similar elaboration and transformation of attitudinal and value issues, not only separating these from assumed socio-demographic mooring but also seeking to split (and sometimes recombine) key elements.

Stoll’s work on Western Europe identifies “six theoretically  interesting  ideological conflicts” (West European Politics, 2010, 455)

  • Socioeconomic (free enterprise, welfare state)
  • Ethnic (multiculturalism, centralization)
  • Religious
  • Urban-rural
  • Foreign policy (EC/EU and special relationships with particular countries)
  • Post-materialist (environmental protection)

But even though the differences between Western and “Eastern” Europe have diminished, Stoll’s list overlaps imperfectly with the lists employed by those who research the region.  Of these, perhaps the most extensive is that of Whitefield and Rohrschneider, who identify eight primarily attitudinal conflicts in their expert survey (They also identify two variants of Lipset and Rokkan’s sociodemographic divisions–regional and urban-rural–but they do not use these in much of their subsequent analysis) (Comparative Political Studies, 2009, Appendix).

  • Economy: Redistribution Issues (for example, tax levels, welfare state spending)
  • Economy: State-run versus Market Economy
  • Democracy: Strengthening Democratic Institutions
  • Ethnic Rights (for example, minorities)
  • Nationalism and Internationalism (for example, views about the EU).
  • Religiosity (role of church)
  • Social Rights (for example, lifestyle)
  • Views of the Communist Past and Its Legacies

The question, as above, is whether the long list of value differences can be conveniently shortened.  The expert surveys conducted by Hooghe and Marks begin with a simple two dimensional approach which looks separately at party positions on economic issues (role in the economy, taxes, regulation, spending and welfare state) and views on democratic freedoms and rights where they differentiate Green/Alternative/Liberal (GAL) attitudes (expanded personal freedoms, for example, access to abortion, active euthanasia, same-sex marriage, or greater democratic participation) from Traditional/ Authoritarian/ Nationalist (TAN) belief that government “should be a firm moral authority on social and cultural issues” (  While these two dimensions capture much that is in the Whitefield and Rohrschneider typology–particularly their two economy questions and their religiosity and “social rights” questions–they discard important information by conflating the elements of GAL/TAN, which in postcommunist Europe tend to remain separate.  Postcommunist European authoritarianism has less to do with social regulation than it does in Western Europe and more to do with democratic institutions.  Postcommunist European concern about nationalism and ethnic rights is relatively independent of questions about social rights.  In this sense Kitschelt offers a slightly more suitable framework when he suggests a three-fold difference that adds a “group” dimension to the dimensions for economic and cultural (“grid”) regulation:

  • economic distribution
  • preferences over the internal governance of societies (“grid:” how many and what kind of binding rules of conduct should be codified by politics, including rules of political participation?)
  • preferences over the external boundaries of polity membership (“group:” insiders and outsiders).

Even this triple division is limiting, however, since it folds questions about democracy into the “grid” category.  Empirical work by Whitefield and Rohrschnieder find that democracy questions in Postcommunist Europe tend to correlate instead with national questions, but even here evidence suggests that the connection is contingent rather than necessary (Deegan-Krause 2007), and so it is best to hold democracy separate as a fourth relevant dimension.

Nor does any of this narrowing of dimensions address the role of the Communist era, which is not quite a demographic question–though it is closely related to the shift in individuals’ respective demographic positions between the Communist and postcommunist era–and not quite a purely attitudinal question.  In this it may resemble to some extent the question of religiosity, which has both ascriptive and value elements. A brief look at the region suggests that on one hand it deserves to be treated as a distinct category, since in various settings “Communism” may mean anti-market, or anti-religion, or anti-national (or pro-national), but on the other hand it is arguable that the core of the dimension lies in whatever “Communism” and “anti-Communism” ally with rather than the question of Communism itself.  This, however, is an empirical question that will simply need more study.

The question of Communism, in fact, calls attention to the underlying dynamics of the political conflict.  “What are they fighting about?” may be the first question we ask when we approach a new polity (or try to figure out a polity that has become opaque to us over time) but we also need to know how the struggle occurs.  We need to look at the depth of the conflict and the role of political institutions in shaping the struggle.

e

Sample Student Papers

Sample Papers

The following papers are good examples of student papers that are well-organized, concisely written, and thoroughly researched. They may help you get a sense of what I look for in a good paper. Many thanks to Suzanne Hassan, Robert Mahu and Gergana Sivrieva for their permission to reprint them here in pdf format and below:


Sample 1. Executives-Parties Dimension: Spain

1. Introduction

The death of Francisco Franco and subsequent political developments ushered in Spain’s transition to democracy—a democracy that has since institutionalized. The sustainability of Spain’s democratic government clear but what type of democracy has emerged? There were certainly elements of both the majoritarianism and the consensual model of democracy present throughout the transition; however, an analysis of the five categories in Arend Lijphart’s executives-parties dimension in relation to Spain’s institutions shows that a shift occurred from a consensus to a majoritarian democracy[1], and that this change is relatively disadvantageous. Currently, Spain has a disproportional electoral system, a history of alternating single-party majority or minority administrations, single-party cabinets, greater executive dominance, and relatively pluralist interest groups.

2. Describing Spain’s model

Prior to delving into the categories, an explanation of the majoritarianism-consensus contrast is pertinent. The core of the majoritarian model of democracy is that it is based upon the majority rule of a country’s citizens. In contrast, the consensus model takes into account as broad of range of opinions as possible and does not limit itself to the wants and needs of the majority. Lijphart further describes the differences between the two by stating “the majoritarian model of democracy is exclusive, competitive, and adversarial, whereas the consensus model is characterized by inclusiveness, bargaining, and compromise” (Lijphart 2012, p. 2).

2a. Majoritarian and disproportional electoral systems versus proportional representation

Shortly after the death of dictator Francisco Franco, there was a nearly universal consensus on the need to reach a peaceful transition through a fair and reliable election with an electoral system that would be equipped to provide the opportunity for a wide political spectrum to compete for representation in future parliament (Sosa Clavel 2010). The subsequent design of the Spanish electoral system created proportional representation (PR); however, the manner in which voting power is allocated among the Spanish provinces demonstrates that the PR label is deceptive (Lijphart 2012, p. 133-135). Spain uses a closed-list system to elect the Congreso, meaning that voters can only vote for a political party, not a particular candidate. In addition, the system uses the d’Hondt formula, “which has a slight bias in favor of large parties and against small parties” (Lijphart 2012, p. 135). Elections to the 350 member Congreso are organized by province. The 50 historic provinces (plus Ceuta and Melilla) that were chosen as the electoral districts, did not account for subsequent demographic changes (Hopkin 2006, Oxford Scholarship Online). Consequently, the provinces are not represented in proportion to their population, and there is a tendency for the overrepresentation of rural and less-populated provinces since each is guaranteed two seats in the Congreso. The remaining seats are allocated proportionally to population. The median number of seats per province is only five, which is a relatively small number per constituency, and the limited number of seats available for the large number of constituencies makes the existence of high proportionality difficult (Hopkin 2000, p. 6 and Rush 2007, p. 716). Spain’s “apportionment scheme, coupled with the party list system and the d’Hondt electoral formula favors larger political parties with nationwide appeal. As a result, the electoral system has diminished the number of effective political parties contesting elections and makes it easier for larger parties to govern without seeking coalition partners” (Rush 2007, p. 716).

2b. Two-party versus multiparty system

The post-Francoist Spanish state has always had a multiparty system; however, the “impure PR system” described above (Lijphart 2012, p. 157) has influenced the development of a relatively stable single-party governing majority over time. The pre-1982 system was composed of two large parties both potentially capable of governing (Union of Democratic Center; UCD and Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party; PSOE) along with two smaller and more extreme parties (People’s Alliance; AP and the Communist Party of Spain; PCE). The presence of four relevant parties made a single-party majority unlikely and necessitated the formation of coalitions. Thus, Spain’s system could be described as moderate pluralism (Hopkin 2000, p. 5). After 1982, the disappearance of UCD allowed the PSOE to take control of the pivotal center space in the party system, while the decline of PCE reduced threats from the left. Thus, the previous balance among parties was overturned and the PSOE acquired a sustainable single-party governing majority (Hopkin 2000, p. 5). Balance reemerged in the system in 1993 when the Socialists’ power began to decline and the People’s Party (PP) emerged as a governing rival (Hopkin 2005, p. 13).

The Spanish party system has therefore developed into what could be described as an ‘adulterated’ two-party system. Despite the quite high a number of parties represented in parliament, the party system essentially revolves around a bipolar competition between the two large statewide parties. The strong presence of non-statewide parties, and the nature of the electoral system, place obstacles in the way of the winning party achieving an overall majority. However, the post-1982 pattern of alternating single party majority or minority administrations places Spain closer to the majoritarian than to the consensual end of the scale (Hopkin 2005, p. 13-14).

2c. Concentration of executive power in single party majority cabinet versus executive power sharing in broad multiparty coalitions

The formation of the cabinet is derivative of the electoral system and the party size. In Spain, the two large parties have occupied the Executive, which has lead to the formation of single-party cabinets whether supported by a relative or absolute majority in the legislature (Ajenjo and Molina 2007, p. 5). Thus, although “democracy has now existed in Spain for over 30 years, […] in that time none of its 11 legislative terms has produced a coalition government” (Falcó-Gimeno 2012, p. 487). Nevertheless, some have argued that Spain’s democratic cabinet initially belonged to the consensus category. Although the UCD governments of 1977-82 were not formal coalitions, the party itself originated as a coalition. Further, since the UCD was a minority administration, inter-party agreements were made to enable laws to be passed (Hopkin 2000, p. 3-4). Currently, the electoral system (which is formally proportional, but more majoritarian in practice) has systematically produced stable single-party governments—further support for the shift to majoritarianism. (Ajenjo and Molina 2007, p. 18 and Lijphart 2012, p. 126).

2d. Executive-legislative relationships in which the executive is dominant versus executive-legislative balance of power

Lijphart states that, “countries that have more minimal winning single-party cabinets also tend to be the countries with greater executive dominance” (Lijphart 2012, p. 124) This fits the case of Spain, which has an index value of executive dominance of 8.26, a little higher than the United Kingdom’s value of 8.12 (Lijphart 2012, p. 121). The constitutional framework that manages the executive-legislative relationship has instituted executive dominance over parliament both under the Francoist state and also under the democratic constitution of 1978. That being said, the executive-legislative relationship was considerably balanced between 1977 and 1982 and then shifted to clear executive domination since 1982 (Hopkin 2000, p. 4-5). The primary objective of Suarez, the fist democratically elected Prime Minister, was to pass a constitution with overwhelming support of the parliament. Consequently, he subordinated partisan interests. Thus, the parliament had the power to veto certain government proposals (Hopkins 2005, p. 9-10 and Hopkin 2000, p. 4-5). After 1982, parliamentary majorities allowed executive dominance, putting parliament into a subordinate role and permitting an increase in partisanship (Hopkins 2005, p. 10).

2e. Pluralist interest groups with free for all competition among groups versus coordinated and corporatist interest group systems aimed at compromise and concentration

The final category of the executives-parties dimension concerns interest groups. According to Lijphart’s index of interest group pluralism, Spain scores a 3.04, which reflects a high degree of pluralism (Lijphart 2012, p. 164-166). Pluralism means “a multiplicity of interest groups that exert pressure on the government in an uncoordinated and competitive manner” (Lijphart 2012, p. 16). In contrast, interest group corporatism, also referred to as concertation, refers to a process of coordination between representatives of government, labor unions, and employers’ organizations (Lijphart 2012, p. 16). Other studies show that “some degree of concertation was achieved during the UCD governments, fell away during the PSOE governments, and has timidly reemerged” (Hopkin 2000, p. 6).

3. Disadvantages of the majoritarian model

After the analysis of Spain’s institutions in regard to each category in the dimension, it is important to focus on why the majoritarian model could be considered relatively disadvantageous to the operation of a democracy. First, the majority and plurality methods require that the candidate supported by the greatest number of voters is the one to win. While this can be interpreted as a fulfillment of the democratic ideal of “government by and for the people,” all other voters remain unrepresented. In contrast, proportional representation ensures that minorities also get a chance to be represented in parliament. Next, two-party systems certainly have some benefits. For example, they offer a clearer choice between two alternative ideologies and they lead to the formation of single party cabinets that are stable and effective at passing policies. Lijphart, however, argues that concentrated power does not always yield effective policymaking. Regarding the cabinet formation of a democracy, a coalition government could lead to instability due to the greater number of ideologies present in the legislature, but it can also lead to broader representation that can benefit a larger proportion of individuals. Multiple party cabinets also have the advantage of being able to add weight to certain issues that could otherwise be dismissed. Next, executive dominance over the legislature could lead to a leader who is entitled to rule as he or she sees fit, constrained only by a constitutionally limited term of office. A more balanced relationship between the executive and the legislative branches could ensure collegiality in decision-making. Lastly, corporatism removes the winner-take-all mentality and promotes social partnership within interest groups. The regular meetings between the three major groups lead to comprehensive agreements that are binding on all parties. Thus, Lijphart purports that “consensus democracies have a superior record with regard to effective policy making and the quality of democracy compared with majoritarian democracies” (Lijphart 2012, p. ix).

Bibliography

  • Falcó-Gimeno, Albert. “Preferences for Political Coalitions in Spain.” South European Society and Politics. 17.3 (2012): 487-502.
  • Hopkin, Jonathan. “From consensus to competition: The changing nature of democracy in the Spanish transition.” The Politics of Contemporary Spain. Ed. Sebastian Balfour. New York: Routledge, 2005. 6-23.
  • Hopkin, Jonathan. “From Consensus to Competition: Changing Conceptions of Democracy in the Spanish Transition.” University of Birmingham. (2000): 1-28.
  • Hopkin, Jonathan. “Spain: Proportional Representation with Majoritarian Outcomes.” Oxford Scholarship Online. (2006). Available at <http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/view/10.1093/0199257566.001.0001/acprof-9780199257560-chapter-18>.
  • Lijphart, Arend. Patterns of Democracy. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012. Print.
  • Rush, Mark. “Voting Power in Federal Systems: Spain as a Case Study.” Political Science & Politics. 40.4 (2007): 715-720.
  • Sosa Clavel, Andrés. “The Spanish Electoral System.” Mundo Electoral. 3.7 (2010). Available at <http://www.mundoelectoral.com/html/index.php?id=443>.[1] This change is present only for the executives-parties dimension. The federal-unitary dimension, experienced a movement that was more gradual and in the opposite direction (Hopkins 2000, p. 3).

Sample 2. Response to “Marxism is the best idea that has never been tried.”

Some scholars contend that “Marxism is the best idea that has never been tried”. However, if one allows for revisions to basic Marxist ideology, it is clear that Marxism was put into practice and that in many ways it was found lacking. The USSR and the socialist countries of Central and Eastern Europe illustrate the existence of Marxist-based systems in recent history. In order to determine whether Marxist systems existed in these countries, one must examine the basic tenets of Marxism, the extent to which the USSR and the socialist countries of Eastern and Central Europe followed and deviated from Marxism, and the causes of this deviation. Upon examining each of these characteristics, it is clear that, while flaws in Marxism resulted in the perpetuation of a ruling class, members of this ruling class did implement some form of Marxist ideology in their countries. Although systems based on Marxism existed, these systems failed because Marxist ideology itself is flawed and contradictory.

An examination of the fundamental concepts of Marxism is essential to determine whether the USSR and the countries of East-Central Europe implemented Marxism. At the center of Marxism is the notion of dialectical materialism. According to Marx, “the history of all past society has consisted in the development of class antagonisms” (1848, p. 14). In terms of dialectical materialism, these class antagonisms or struggles have taken a similar form – that of a thesis against an antithesis, which later combine to form a synthesis. The first class struggle arose within primitive communism as methods for acquiring wealth emerged, and other class struggles arose after this throughout history (Marx, 1848). Marx (1848) predicted that a revolution between the proletariat, or working class, and the bourgeoisie, or the owners of the means of production, would ultimately occur. Furthermore, according to Marxism, this would be the last class struggle because once the proletariat obtains ownership of the means of production there will be an abolition of class, and therefore, of class struggles (Marx, 1848). However, Marx did not take into account the perpetuation of a new class. Herein lies the flaw that allowed for the misuse of Marxist ideology by the leaders of the USSR and East-Central Europe.
Marxist ideology also examines the characteristics of the Revolution and of a Marxist-based society. Marx (1848) believed that the Revolution would occur quickly, in a country with a well-developed proletariat, such as Germany or France. Furthermore, “…the proletariat will use its political supremacy to wrest, by degree, all capital from the bourgeoisie, to centralize all instruments of production in the hands of the state, i.e., of the proletariat organized as the ruling class…” (Marx, 1848, p. 14). After the proletariat takes over the means of production, there should be implementation of certain changes in society, such as a heavy income tax and the abolition of property and inheritance (Marx, 1848). Other changes include the centralization of credit in banks, as well as of the means of communication and transportation, the combination of agriculture and manufacturing, free universal education, shorter workdays and an egalitarian society (Marx, 1848). However, the fact that a ruling authority or class must govern a centralized economy illustrates the contradiction in Marxism – the creation of a ruling class in order to ensure a classless society. Another important aspect of Marxism is the supremacy of the proletariat’s struggle over the appeals of nationalism. Marx’s (1848) call of “[p]roletarians of all countries, unite” illustrates his wish to abandon nationalist differences in favor of a unified class struggle against the bourgeoisie. However, the ruling class that emerged because of a flaw in Marxist ideology also used a form of nationalism to retain their power.

The fact that Marxism existed in the USSR belies the notion the Marxism “has never been tried.” The Bolsheviks, under Lenin, invoked Marxism in the Revolution of 1917 – albeit with some revisions. Immediately after the Revolution, numerous decrees, such as the Peace and Land decrees, made life somewhat easier for workers by shortening the workday and creating a more egalitarian society (Dziewanowski, 1996). Furthermore, the Bolsheviks established a radical socialist economy by using central planning that controlled all economic activity, including the seizure of all banks and means of communication (Dziewanowski, 1996). In this respect, the new leaders of the Soviet Union closely followed Marx’s recommendations concerning the characteristics of a Marxist society. Later, Stalin pushed for the collectivization of agriculture. This included the creation of two types of farms: collective farms, with pooled land and equipment; and state farms, where the farmers were employees of the state (Mason, 1996). The ideology of the transition period in the Soviet Union reflected Marxist ideology largely in respect to its “millenarian” outlook. This outlook propelled many people to work extremely hard in order to build their “worker’s paradise” (Espar & Jones, 1998). It is important to note that Stalin’s manipulation of Marxism forced the complete obedience of the public at all times. For example, Stalin claimed that Marxism is perfect and provides answers to everything (Schöpflin, 1993). Furthermore, Stalin proclaimed that problems arose not from the ideology, but from people who deviate from this ideology (Schöpflin, 1993). The population lived in constant fear of appearing to digress from Stalin’s interpretation of Marxism. Therefore, Stalin used Marxist ideology to maintain and expand his power in both the Soviet Union and in most of the socialist countries in Central and Eastern Europe.

While the leaders of the USSR followed many of the basic principles of Marxist ideology, these leaders also deviated from this ideology. In this respect, it is important to point out that Lenin made significant modifications to Marx’s theory of the Revolution. Lenin rejected the Marxist concept of a two-step revolution, instead calling for an immediate seizure of power by the Bolsheviks (Dziewanowski, 1996). Lenin (1902) also rejected the notion that the Revolution can only occur in a highly industrialized country. He felt that the peasants could work with the industrial proletariat to overthrow the Bourgeoisie. In addition, Lenin (1902) believed that a highly centralized group of trained revolutionaries must lead the effort to overthrow the bourgeoisie. Other early deviations from Marxism occurred during the New Economic Plan, which allowed peasants to sell agricultural goods for profit (Dziewanowski, 1996). It is important to note that these deviations were short-lived, in that Soviet leaders implemented them in order to create a basis for their legitimacy and maintain power. Later in the transition and consolidation phases within the USSR, leaders created a society that adhered closely to Marxist ideology, including central planning of the economy and the collectivization of agriculture.

The existence of socialist countries in Central and Eastern Europe also casts doubt on the contention that there has never been a system based on Marxist ideology. Because of the nature of the transition to socialism in Central and Eastern Europe, the countries in this region had economies and political systems similar to the Soviet Union. For example, “the new governments… seized most of the large landed estates and redistributed the property to ordinary peasants and farmers” (Mason, 1996, p. 14). Furthermore, the new socialist governments in East-Central Europe pursued other policies in line with Marxist ideology, such as subsidies on housing, education, medical care, and guaranteed employment (Mason, 1996). The collectivization of agriculture following the Soviet pattern also follows Marxist principles (Mason, 1996). Thus, in many important respects, the socialist countries of Central and Eastern Europe adhered to the principles of Marxism. However, it is important to note that Stalin and other Soviet leaders did not allow for much deviation from the Soviet model in order to maintain Soviet hegemony in the region.

Yugoslavia is a unique case study with respect to the implementation of Marxist ideology. Under Tito, Yugoslav leaders followed their own “separate road to socialism” (Mason, 1996, p. 21). In many respects, Marxist principles formed more of a basis of this different path in Yugoslavia than the economic plan set forth by the Soviet Union. For example, the very basis of Marxist ideology is worker control over the means of production (Marx, 1848). In contrast to the heavy centralization of the Soviet economy, Tito sought to decentralize the economy and create a system of “worker self-management of enterprises” (Mason, 1996, p. 21). In this respect, Tito and the Yugoslav path to socialism was much more in keeping of Marxist ideology than the Soviet Union. The fact that Tito was able to stray from the path put forth by the Soviet Union is also unique. Tito was one of the few communist leaders in East-Central Europe that came to power without Soviet intervention because he led the forces that defeated the Nazis in Yugoslavia. Although Tito had an indigenous basis for power, the overall result remains the same – Tito and the Yugoslav communists remained a ruling or upper class in their country. This illustrates that contradictions in Marxism resulted, not in a classless society, but in a society ruled by a select group.

The socialist countries of Central and Eastern Europe deviated from Marxist ideology as well. Perhaps the first of these deviations emerged with Tito’s separate road to socialism as discussed above. In this plan, Tito also called for a mixed-market economy (Mason, 1996, p. 21). This marks a large departure from Marxist ideology, as the foundation of this ideology calls for moving away from the capitalist tendencies of the bourgeoisie (Marx, 1848). Later, in many countries of Central and Eastern Europe, there were other attempts to implement market-oriented reforms, such as in Czechoslovakia in 1967 (Mason, 1996, p. 24). Moves toward market-oriented reforms increased, as communist leaders needed socioeconomic success in order to maintain legitimacy for their government and therefore remain in power (Mason, 1996).

The use of nationalism is another important deviation from Marxist ideology. Tito may have been the first to use nationalism as a source of legitimacy with his separate road to socialism (Mason, 1996). The “separate road” appealed to nationalism because it was a Yugoslavian road. Tito’s deviations differed from those of Soviet leaders because the Soviet leadership needed to build their legitimacy after the Revolution – whether by the New Economic Plan, or the use of terror to maintain control. As examined above, Tito did not need to create this legitimacy. While the leaders of the Soviet Union needed to deviate from Marxism to ensure control and maintain power over the people, Tito deviated from Marxism in order to keep his power independent from the Soviet Union. Furthermore, other leaders of socialist countries appealed to “socialist patriotism” in order to “win some popular support by stressing national interests and national autonomy” (Mason, 1996, p. 24). Thus, the ruling class of the socialist countries outside of the Soviet Union used nationalism in order to remain in power.

Inherent contradictions in Marxism resulted in the creation of what appears to be the most important deviation from the spirit of Marxism – instead of a classless society, a ruling class governed the USSR and the countries of East-Central Europe. To clarify, Marx (1848, p. 15) allowed for the proletariat to organize itself as a class, saying, “if, by means of a revolution, it makes itself the ruling class, and, as such, sweeps away by force the old conditions of production, then it will, along with these conditions, have swept away the conditions for the existence of class antagonisms and of classes generally, and will thereby have abolished its own supremacy as a class.” However, in contrast to Marxist calls for a classless society, the communist party, through heavy centralization, remained the ruling power long after the revolution. Mason (1996, p. 34) argues that many believed the Communist party was merely a “new class” that replaced the dominant bourgeoisie of the pre-transition systems. Thus, instead of fulfilling Marxist calls for a classless society, the communist party in the Soviet Union, and by extension the communist parties of Central and Eastern Europe, created yet another class-based system.

Finally, it is also extremely important to determine the causes of deviations from Marxism. As examined above, Marx provided for the creation of a proletariat ruling class; however, he did not foresee the perpetuation of this class. Therefore, the inherent contradiction or flaw of Marxist ideology lies in the fact that Marx calls for the creation of a dominant class in order to create a classless society. In order for a classless society to emerge, the ruling class must give up their dominant position in society. However, Marxism ignores the basic fallibility of human beings, for it is rare for an individual, or a group of individuals, to willingly give up power. Furthermore, other deviations from Marxist ideology, such as mixed-market economies and appeals to nationalism, resulted from a desire to maintain power. For example, the leaders of communist countries sought to legitimize their power by using both Marxist ideology and socioeconomic accomplishment (Mason, 1996). Because of the leadership’s lack of willingness to compromise, Marxist ideology stagnated under repression (Schöpflin, 1993). Thus, in the face of losing ideology as a source of legitimacy, socioeconomic progress gained in importance, and led the way to more market-oriented reforms (Mason, 1996). While the countries of Central and Eastern Europe followed Marxist ideology in many important ways, deviations emerged due to the inherent contradiction of Marxism – the creation of a proletariat ruling class in order to create a classless society.

While the existence of the Soviet Union and socialist countries in Central and Eastern Europe negates the argument that Marxism “has never been tried”, it is clear that deviations from Marxism emerged from contradictions in the ideology itself. By calling for the formation of a ruling class to create a classless society, this flaw in Marxism enabled communist leaders to use any means necessary to remain in power. As Kovaly (1996, p. 71) points out, “[i]t is often said that power corrupts, but I think what corrupted people in our country was not power alone but the fear that accompanied it…to lose power in our Communist society meant not a step down the social ladder to a former position, but a fall far below it.” The fact that a “social ladder” existed at all illustrates the flaws in the Marxist systems examined above. A utopian society where such a fear does not accompany power is perhaps the only society that can implement Marxism in its truest form.

Works Cited

  • Dziewanowski, M. (1996). A History of Soviet Russia and Its Aftermath (5th ed.). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall.
  • Espar, D. (Senior Producer), & Jones, B. (Producer/Director). (1998). Red Flag, 1917 [Videorecording]. (Available from WGBH Educational Foundation, Burlington, VT).
  • Kovaly, H. (1996). Under a Cruel Star: A Life in Prague 1941-1968. New York: Holmes & Meier Publishers.
  • Lenin, V. (1902). What is to be Done? In Internet Modern History Sourcebook [online]. Available: http://csf.colorado.edu/mirrors/marxists.org/archive/lenin/works/1901/what-itd/index.htm
  • Marx, K. & Engels, F. (1848). Manifesto of the Communist Party [online]. Available: http://www.anu.edu.au/polsci/marx/classics/manifesto.html
  • Mason, D. (1996). Revolution and Transition in East-Central Europe (2nd ed.). Boulder, CO: Westview Press.
  • Schöpflin, G. (1993). Politics in Eastern Europe, 1945-1992. Oxford, UK: Blackwell.

 Sample 3. The Collapse and Legacies of Communism

Since the fall of communism in Eastern Europe little more than a decade ago, scholars have put forth numerous theories concerning the contributing factors to the collapse of one of the world’s most powerful systems. It is clear, however, that no single factor was solely responsible for the collapse of communism in Eastern Europe. Rather, several interacting developments led to the fall of communism. These developments include various economic problems, the emergence of a civil society, Gorbachev’s policies, and the causes and results of mass protests that first emerged in Poland. In order to determine what contributed to the fall of communism and the challenges of post-communist systems, one must examine the numerous important developments leading up to the collapse and the legacies of communism in post-communist Eastern Europe. Upon careful examination, it is clear that, while several developments contributed to the fall of communism, the leaders of the new governments in Eastern Europe had to deal with problems arising from the legacies of communism in the national, political and economic transitions into post-communism.

Economic decay was an important development in terms of the collapse of communism in Eastern Europe. By the 1980’s, the economies of East-Central Europe faced enormous problems such as stagnation and increasing indebtedness (Mason, 1996). This was especially dangerous given the fact that the legitimacy of the communist governments became increasingly associated with economic growth, or at least economic stability (Mason, 1996). The source of the economic decay that contributed to the collapse of communism was the fact that these economies were “concerned not with matching supply and demand, but with administering inputs and outputs” (Schöpflin, 1993). Furthermore, Mason (1996) points out that, while centrally planned economies could create expeditious growth in heavy industry, they could not facilitate growth in the more sophisticated consumer goods, service and technology sectors. In addition, consumers in East-Central Europe expected high growth levels (Mason, 1993). When high growth levels did not occur, mass protests soon confronted the communist governments, as was witnessed in Poland and elsewhere. Thus, the flaws in the economies of East-Central Europe resulted in the erosion of an essential aspect of legitimacy for the communist leadership.

The creation and expansion of a civil society in Eastern Europe was another important development in terms of the fall of communism. According to the principles of civil society, people should try and live outside of the official structures created by the communist authorities (Mason, 1996). This would include printing and reading samizdat or participating in the black market (Mason, 1996). Havel (1985) provided perhaps the best explanation of civil society and dissent. According to Havel (1985), lies created the foundation of the communist systems within East-Central Europe. Furthermore, the people perpetuated the existence of these systems because they accepted and lived within the lies established by the communist parties (Havel, 1985). Havel (1985, p. 27) used the example of a greengrocer who hangs a sign up in the window of his shop that reads “Workers of the World, Unite!” Havel (1985) asserted that the greengrocer may not necessarily believe in this slogan, but he hung the sign up for fear of reprisal. Havel (1985) defined dissent, not as overt and much publicized acts that gain attention in the West, but as simple acts that go against the established communist system. To use Havel’s (1985) illustration, this act may be as simple as refusing to place a sign in a window. Other examples of dissent may include refusing to vote in elections or buying goods on the black market instead of in state-owned stores. However, these simple acts have a far deeper meaning – by refusing to comply with the system, the dissident refuses to live within the lie (Havel, 1985). In addition, each of the dissident’s seemingly trivial acts puts a crack in the system of lies and ultimately results in the communist system’s collapse (Havel, 1985). Havel explained that “[i]n this revolt the greengrocer steps out of living within the lie. He rejects the ritual and breaks the rule of the game….He gives his freedom a concrete significance. His revolt is an attempt to live within the truth” (1985, p. 39). Thus, by simply refusing to live within the confines of the system established by the communist parties and becoming part of the civil society, dissent in East-Central Europe grew. This dissent, along with the removal of the threat of Soviet intervention, ultimately led to the fall of communism in Eastern Europe.

In addition to economic decay and the creation of a civil society, Gorbachev’s policies within the Soviet Union and toward Eastern Europe contributed significantly to the fall of communism in Eastern Europe. The first of these reforms came under the heading glasnost or “openness.” This included relaxed censorship on the press and allowed for the transmission of the Russian-language broadcasts of Voice of America and the BBC (Mason, 1996, p. 44). Gorbachev’s policy of glasnost was extremely important to the rest of his policies, especially concerning the economy and relations with both the West and Eastern Europe. According to one observer, “[w]ithout glasnost, the entire range of Gorbachev’s reforms would not have been possible” (Smith, 1990, p. 98). Therefore, by encouraging glasnost, especially in Eastern Europe, Gorbachev opened a floodgate and released calls for reform. Another part of Gorbachev’s policies was perestroika or “restructuring.” This aspect of Gorbachev’s policies within the Soviet Union dealt mostly with the economy, reducing the scope of the central ministries and “restricting them to long term and strategic planning” (Mason, 1996, p. 43). Furthermore, industries and agriculture were to be phased into a system of accountability and partial freedom that allowed them to establish their own prices and production schedules (Mason, 1996). Although Gorbachev introduced glasnost and perestroika within the USSR, his reforms provided a model for the countries of Eastern Europe because the USSR was the hegemonic power in the region. Any reforms in the USSR brought about calls for similar reforms in Eastern Europe. Thus, glasnost and perestroika in the USSR contributed to the fall of communism in Eastern Europe.

Along with glasnost and perestroika, Gorbachev also initiated democratizatcia, or democratization. For Gorbachev, both glasnost and democratization were necessary in order for successful economic reforms to occur. Included in democratization was the creation of the Congress of People’s Deputies, which was elected by Soviet citizens (Mason, 1996). Soviet citizens used this opportunity to remove several communist party officials (Mason, 1996). Perhaps the most important aspect of democratization is that Gorbachev allowed the emergence of groups independent from the Communist Party (Mason, 1996). This is extremely important in terms of the eventual collapse of communism in Eastern Europe. According to Mason, the “’national fronts,’ which first appeared in the Baltic republics, were ostensibly established to promote perestroika, but they eventually spread to every republic and became platforms for campaigns for national autonomy and independence” (1996, p. 46). In combination with democratization, Gorbachev’s other policy of revoking the Brezhnev Doctrine created conditions in Eastern Europe that resulted in the collapse of communism. Mason writes, “…more and more groups and individuals became active participants in the society, the economy, and the political system. Almost imperceptibly, the Soviet system evolved to a point at which the clock could not be turned back” (1996, p. 46).

It is possible to see each of the developments examined above at work in the fall of communism in Poland. Economic problems, a civil society, and Gorbachev’s reforms all contributed to the outbreaks of mass protests. In turn, these protests paved the way for discussions, roundtable negotiations, and elections that ultimately toppled the communist leadership (Mason, 1996). For example, economic problems in Poland in the late 1980’s were widespread. Poland had a huge hard currency debt that reached upwards of $40 billion (Mason, 1996). This debt, in combination with the realization that Gorbachev was not likely to intervene on behalf of the conservative leaders in Warsaw, led Polish workers into two rounds of massive strikes in 1988 (Mason, 1996). In spring of 1988, the workers’ demands came to include calls for political changes, such as the legalization of Solidarity (Mason, 1996). While Solidarity was illegal under the laws of the communist government, it remained an important element in Poland’s civil society. In August of 1988, the Interior Minister met with Solidarity leader Lech Walesa in order to discuss the legalization of Solidarity if Walesa could convince the workers to end the strike (Mason, 1996). The participants in later roundtable negotiations established rules for new parliamentary elections that allowed Solidarity to compete for 35 percent of the seats in the Sejm and all of the 100 seats in the Senate (Mason, 1996). The results of the roundtable negotiations were extremely important in terms of the fall of communism in Poland and the rest of Eastern Europe. Finally, in June of 1989, the Polish leadership held elections, with Solidarity winning all of the contested seats in the Sejm and 99 of the 100 seats in the Senate (Mason, 1996). These events marked the first time in the history of communism that a noncommunist government took power (Mason, 1996). Thus, the combination of developments, including economic decay and the creation of a civil society, ultimately resulted in the downfall of the communism in Poland. Furthermore, Gorbachev’s lack of hostility, and perhaps approval, of the new non-communist government provided a signal to the people in other Eastern European countries that “the Brezhnev Doctrine was dead” (Mason, 1996, p. 54). This paved the way for more non-communist governments to emerge in Eastern Europe. It is important to note that the events that led to the downfall of communism in Poland signified more than the consequences of economic decay, the creation of a civil society and Gorbachev’s policies. Rather, the events in Poland acted as a catalyst to the further collapse of communism in Eastern Europe. Gorbachev’s glasnost permitted other Eastern Europeans to learn about, and in many ways try to replicate, the astonishing events that transpired in Poland.

After communism collapsed in a cascade of protests and relatively peaceful change, the Eastern European countries had to face similar dilemmas in their post-communist national, political and economic spheres. Offe (1991, p. 865) refers to the process of development from a communist to a post-communist country as the “triple transition.” In addition, Offe (1991) contends that there is a hierarchical arrangement within the triple transition, with national issues taking precedence over political and economic issues. However, it is important to note that developments in each of these three spheres can influenced developments in the others. For example, national questions have ramifications on political questions, and vice versa.

In terms of Offe’s (1991) hierarchy, it is important to address the development of the national spheres in post-communist Eastern Europe with relation to the legacies of communism. Under communism, national questions became subordinate to class unity. Mason points out that “federal and multinational states had been held together for generations by a dominating communist party” (1996, p. 113). Thus, communist leaders in Eastern Europe, following the Soviet model, did not permit nationalism in order to maintain the communist party’s monopoly of power. However, Mason goes on to point out that “[a]s the countries became more open and central controls were lifted, nationalism began to tear them apart” (1996, p. 113). Thus, post-communist countries had to first, according to Offe (1991, p. 869), “decide who ‘we’ are.” However, this decision was difficult at best, and in some ways contradictory to democratic principles (Offe, 1991). The difficulty was in the fact that the population had to decide democratically who the demos, or people, are. However, in order to do that, the population had to decide first who could participate in the election. Therefore, post-communist systems faced a difficult situation. Various post-communist countries, such as Poland and Hungary, had easier times solving this problem because their populations were relatively homogeneous. Czechoslovakia was unique in terms of problems in the national sphere between the Czechs and Slovaks in that country. Unlike other ethnically heterogeneous countries in Eastern Europe, in Czechoslovakia the Czechs and the Slovaks primarily lived in two different regions of the country that had relatively clear boundaries. Therefore, when the tensions between the Czechs and the Slovaks increased, the decision to separate the two regions, as well as the separation itself, were not difficult or violent (Mason, 1996). Thus, the Czech Republic and Slovakia dealt with their national problems in a peaceful way. However, in countries such as Russia and Yugoslavia, with several nations and unclear borders between these nations, many national groups used violence instead of democracy to settle their national problems.

Communism also left important legacies concerning the challenges in the political spheres of post-communist Eastern European countries. In communist systems, the communist party of each Eastern European country held a monopoly of power. Furthermore, the Eastern European countries generally adopted the Soviet model of parallel political and party structures (Mason, 1996). While the public theoretically elected members of the political structures, because of the communist party’s monopoly of power, voters effectively only had one option (Mason, 1996). After the fall of communism, each of the Eastern European countries had to deal with similar challenges. There was little doubt that each of the post-communist countries would be democratic and have multiple parties. The forms of the revolutions in the post-communist countries assured that there would at least be a communist-successor party and one opposition group. However, each of the post-communist systems had to create new constitutions, as well as to decide on the types of political institutions to establish (Mason, 1996). For example, the post-communist leadership had to decide if they would have a President, a Prime Minister, or both. In addition, the new post-communist leadership had to establish the procedures to elect members of the legislative and executive branches.

The legacies of communism also affected the economic sphere in the post-communist systems in Eastern Europe. Communism favored a command economy, in which the state owned all industries and the ministries overseeing each industry, under the leadership of GOSPLAN, made all economic decisions. Therefore, when the time came for the transition between the command economies of communism to the market economies of post-communism, Eastern European countries had to deal with numerous dilemmas. Mason points out that “[t]he major tasks of domestic economic restructuring included price deregulation, monetary and fiscal reforms, the elimination of government subsidies to both consumers and producers, creation of a modern banking system, and a large-scale program of privatization of state enterprises and farmland” (1996, p. 123). For example, in the transition from a command to a market economy, the market must determine prices (Mason, 1996). Therefore, in the early stages of the economic transition in Eastern Europe, most countries faced rapid inflation. In addition, post-communist regimes in Eastern Europe had to deal with the communist legacy of state ownership of industries (Mason, 1996). Some countries, such as the Czech Republic, created a stock market and sold stock in various companies using a program of voucher privatization. Others, such as Hungary, sold industries, or parts of industries, directly to foreign investors or to other private groups.

In addition, while communism left legacies and difficulties in the individual national, political and economic spheres, it also resulted in the fact that each sphere interacted with, and had repercussions on, the other spheres in the triple transition. Because communist systems controlled every aspect of society, when these systems collapsed, the countries of Eastern Europe had to deal with transitions in their national, political and economic spheres simultaneously (Mason, 1996). Therefore, it is not surprising that the spheres of the triple transition in Eastern European countries influenced each other. For instance, adding to the difficulty of creating functioning democratic systems in the countries of Eastern Europe was the interaction with the national sphere in the new post-communist systems. According to Linz and Stepan, “[t]wo of the most widely cited obstacles to democratic consolidation are the dangers posed by ethnic conflict in multinational states and by disappointed popular hopes for economic improvement in states undergoing simultaneous political and economic reform” (1996, p. 23). As examined above, countries such as Poland and Hungary were relatively successful in creating consolidated democracies because their national problems were minor or nonexistent. However, Yugoslavia faced almost insurmountable difficulties and consequently broke apart.

Furthermore, the economic sphere affected the political sphere in post-communist countries. The public’s response to the hardships of changing from a command to a market economy is the most obvious illustration of the impact of economics on politics. In Poland for example, which underwent “shock therapy” that created many hardships in the first few years of the transition, the Polish people elected a communist-successor party (Mason, 1996). It is important to note, however, that this election, as well as elections with similar outcomes in many Eastern European countries, illustrated the stability of their democratic systems (Mason, 1996). Mason points out that “the return to power of former communist parties…marked an important point in the evolution of democratic politics: the peaceful and routine accession to government of the former ‘opposition’ parties” (1996, p. 114).

The influence of the political sphere on the economic sphere in Eastern Europe provides another example of the interaction between each aspect of the triple transition. Offe (1991) points out that democratization in the political sphere can contradict with marketization in the economic sphere. Furthermore, Offe (1991) contends that, in most cases, political leaders introduce and create a market economy under predemocratic conditions. However, because the transitions to a market economy and democratization were simultaneous in post-communist countries, “the introduction of a market economy…has prospects of success only if it rests on strong democratic legitimization” (Offe, 1991, p. 881). Therefore, developments in the political sphere of post-communist systems were extremely important to the establishment of market economies in Eastern Europe.

Numerous factors, such as economic decay, the concept of civil society, and Gorbachev’s reforms, contributed to the collapse of communism in Eastern Europe. However, despite differences in geography and ethnicity, each of the countries in Eastern Europe faced similar transitions into the post-communist world. Offe’s triple transition provides the best elucidation of this progression into post-communism. The legacies of communist rule affected the development in the national, political and economic spheres in the countries of Eastern Europe. While some countries in Eastern Europe may have been more successful in dealing with national, political and economic problems than others, it is clear that each of the post-communist countries still have more hurdles to overcome. For some, such as Hungary, this may involve admission into the European Union (Kosztolanyi, 1999). For others, this progress may be less concrete. In Havel’s words, “[w]e need, quite simply, a new vision: one that is mindful of the future role of our citizens…one that considers the cultivation of our citizens’ lives, our political and economic identity, and our country’s position within the European context” (1996, p. 12).

Works Cited

  • Havel, V. (1985). The Power of the Powerless. (J. Keane, Ed.). Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe.
  • Havel, V., Klaus, V., & Pithart P. (1996). Rival visions. Journal of Democracy, 7(1), 12-23.
  • Kosztolanyi, G. (1999, December 13). Csardas: Hungarian hopes – The events of 199 in review. Central Europe Review – Hungary: 1999 Reviewed, 1(25).
  • Linz, J. & Stepan, A. (1996). Toward consolidated democracies. Journal of Democracy, 7(2), 14-33.
  • Mason, D. (1996). Revolution and Transition in East-Central Europe (2nd ed.). Boulder, CO: Westview Press.
  • Offe, C. (1991, Winter). Capitalism by democratic design? Democratic theory facing the triple transition in East Central Europe. Social Research, 58, 865-892.
  • Schöpflin, G. (1993). Politics in Eastern Europe, 1945-1992. Oxford, UK: Blackwell.
  • Smith, H. (1990). The New Russians. New York: Random House.

Sample 4.  Response to the following question:

I. There are many possible ways of deciding how to spend the money we have collected for nonprofits.  What is electoral system do you prefer for translating the preferences of the class into an allocation of money? What advantage does this system have over alternative systems?  What disadvantages does this system have over alternative systems?

 II. We will also have a class parliament. What is electoral system do you prefer for translating the preferences of the class into an allocation of parliamentary seats to individuals? What advantage does this system have over alternative systems?  What disadvantages does this system have over alternative systems?

 III.  Bonus: The answers to the questions above constitute your ballot for the election of the choice of electoral system.  This, too, requires an electoral system.  Yet the in light of the information I will receive on your “ballots” and other considerations that may occur to you, the choices of electoral system for choosing the electoral system are limited.  What are the limitations?  What electoral system(s) can we use to choose the electoral system?

In the course of its worldwide expansion, democracy has affected territories and states of tremendous diversity. Given the variance of these regions, there is little surprise that their electoral systems vary significantly. As the key feature of democracy, electoral systems must provide the most effective mechanism for a given population to express its preferences, and this must occur in the context of its own distinct political circumstances. In a similar vein, a unique population of voters will also hold the class elections. To best develop an electoral system for the class, a designated set of evaluation criteria is needed, and these criteria must be applied relative to the class’s goals and political circumstances. With this in mind, the list system of proportional representation and the single transferable vote are best suited for the class allocation of money and the parliamentary elections, respectively. Both systems satisfactorily meet critical evaluation criteria, hold up admirably to criticisms leveled against them, and best suit the unique environment in which the class elections will be held.

What, then, constitutes an effective electoral system? Andrew Reynolds and Ben Reilly (2003) identify several criteria for evaluation, including representation, accessibility, accountability, and government efficiency. A key factor they use to judge a system’s representative ability is whether the elections “adequately reflect the ideological divisions within society” (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003). The authors associate accessibility with “ease of voting” and the ability of the electorate to understand the mechanics of the process by which their votes are counted (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003). They define accountability as a state in which elected officials or parties are “responsible to their constituents to the highest degree possible” (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003). In other words, parties and officials must be able to lose elections as punishment for not delivering results. Reynolds and Reilly (2003) associate the efficiency of the government with its stability. This criterion involves voter perception of fairness in the electoral system, and it also examines the ability of the government to efficiently implement policy (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003).

The authors make one other vital point in their work. They note that these criteria are often incompatible with one another, and therefore a tradeoff must be made when designing an electoral system that best suits the needs and objectives of the target population (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003). With that in mind, these criteria can be employed to determine which electoral systems are most effective for the class elections.

The ideal system for determining how to spend the money collected for non-profit organizations in class is the list system of proportional representation (referred to hereafter as “List PR”.) The mechanics of this electoral system’s construction can vary considerably. Since list PR is essentially a party-based system, the class should maintain its current political parties, and voters can then cast their ballots for the parties which, in turn, represent the charities that receive the donations. The class should operate as one district, with a designated district magnitude of perhaps five. This would avoid the confusion of having many small districts, each composed of as few as five people, as well as the problems caused by absenteeism in such small districts. Each “seat” in the election represents an equal amount of money being distributed to the parties in that election. The parties themselves are then responsible for choosing what charities will receive money and in what proportion the money will be divided within the party. In the sense that the parties decide what charities will receive their share of the money if elected, a closed list system exists because the voters have no say over this matter when they vote. The final detail of the system to be decided is the method by which the votes are counted. The class should use the highest average system for counting the votes, not because it would have a significant impact on the results in a class as small as ours, but simply because it is the most popular counting method for List PR systems (Ferrell, 1998, 64).

Having laid out the basic mechanics of the system, list PR reveals tremendous advantages as the electoral system for allocating money. It most directly satisfies Reynolds and Reilly’s (2003) representation criterion because it corresponds seats with voter’s preferences while creating fewer wasted votes than say, a plurality system. Given the relatively low population of the class, there is little need to limit proportionality by imposing a threshold to prevent “extreme” parties from forming. It is much more likely, in fact, that an “effective” threshold will be imposed by the system itself due to the number of parties able to win the election itself (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003). An unpopular or minority party has a significantly greater chance at winning a portion of the money under this system as voters are more confident to vote for such parties. This perception of fairness satisfies Reynolds and Reilly’s (2003) stability criterion.

In spite of its strengths, several criticisms can be launched against this electoral system. The first accuses List PR of giving extremist parties a platform and therefore running the risk of destabilizing the system itself. Given the size of the class, this can be countered by using the d’Hondt divisors when counting the votes. The d’Hondt divisors provide the least proportional result under the highest average system and would therefore limit the possibility that extremist parties can win money in or otherwise exercise negative influence on the election (Ferrell, 1998, 65). Another weakness of this electoral system is inability to remove parties from power, and therefore not meeting Reynolds and Reilly’s (2003) accountability criterion. Theoretically speaking, if a particular party became undesirable to the electorate in some way, the voters still have the ability to hold that party accountable for its actions. Even if the offending party is not completely ousted from power, voters can still significantly curtail its influence. One final disadvantage leveled against list PR is the weak link between representatives and their constituency (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003). Ferrell (1998, 68) notes that this problem is magnified by the existence of only one electoral district, which is what was proposed for the class. Yet here again, the relatively small class size neutralizes this concern quite obviously.

The List PR system, then, is best for deciding how to spend the charitable money. A separate system is ideal for electing a class parliament. This ideal system is the Single Transferable Vote (referred to hereafter as “STV”.) This system is considerably less party-oriented and therefore should focus more on candidates for the purpose of our class’s parliamentary elections. Once again, given the class size and the complexity of districting, the entire class should be one district under the STV system. A designated number of seats must be chosen for parliament, setting the district magnitude anywhere between five and ten seats. The ballot structure should feature the names of the candidates, preferably in random order, and disclosure of their party affiliation should be optional. Like all STV systems, the Droop quota would be employed to count the votes.

The operation of an STV system reveals its inherent advantages. As a proportional electoral system, it shares the advantages of list PR. In this regard, it satisfies Reynolds and Reilly’s (2003) representation and stability criteria as described above. STV has an added advantage over List PR, however, in the area of accountability. Since voters identify candidates instead of parties on the ballots, members of parliament are presumably more likely to respond to the demands of the electorate. Reynolds and Reilly (2003) note that STV gives a significant advantage to independent candidates (or in the class’s case, to candidates who choose not to disclose their parties) because voters have the opportunity to choose between candidates themselves instead of parties.

The STV system nevertheless has several noteworthy criticisms. The first disadvantage is the perceived lack of accessibility, generally supported by the uniqueness of preferential voting (Reynolds and Reilly, 2003). There is little doubt that STV is more complex than say, the First Past the Post system. Yet once again, considering the size limit of the class and the presumed educational level of its members, this hardly seems to be a significant weakness in using it to elect a class parliament. A long ballot and consequential voter fatigue would likely be more realistic problems, and in that regard, voters should simply not be required to rank all the candidates on the ballot. A final weakness of STV identified by Reynolds and Reilly (2003) points to the intra-party conflict and fragmentation due to the competition of candidates from the same party. This problem is confronted by allowing candidates to run as independents or giving them the option not to declare their party affiliation. Reynolds and Reilly (2003) go on to note that this potential weakness, along with the others, has actually turned out to be quite insignificant in states practicing the STV system.
Using criteria laid out by Reynolds and Reilly (2003) and adapting those criteria to the unique political environment of the class, two electoral systems were identified as ideal to the class elections. The list system of proportional representation was deemed ideal for the distribution of charitable money and the single transferable vote system was deemed most appropriate for the class’s parliamentary elections. These systems will provide the class with representative results, produce a stable system, and be quite accountable to the voters in each election. Each of the chosen systems responds admirably to criticism largely by adapting itself to the uniqueness of the class size and the methodology of each prospective election. In addition, these systems spare the class from wasted votes inherent in systems that incorporate majoritarian or plurality methods. The class is also spared from districting, which is required under non-proportional systems. The class, like states around the world, contains a voting population that has a unique set of needs and circumstances, and therefore an electoral system must be designed for it that best translates those needs into an acceptable electoral outcome.

Literature Cited

  • Farrell, David M. 1998. Comparing Electoral Systems London: Macmillan.
  • Reynolds, Andrew, and Ben Reilly. 2003. Administration and Cost of Elections Project.
    Available WWW: http://www.aceproject.org/main/english/index.htm [Accessed 21 February 2005].

Bonus response

The electoral system for determining the electoral systems used in class is limited. To begin with, it is quite obvious that there should be two elections for determining the electoral system: one for how the class spends the charitable money and the other for the election of parliament. This of course requires each student’s “ballot” to be counted twice.

There is however another limitation that is less obvious. Only one electoral system will presumably be used for each election. This effectively means there is a “district magnitude” of one, because only one winner can prevail in the election. This rules out all electoral systems incorporating proportional representation, including STV, mixed member proportional, and all forms of List PR, since all of these systems must, by definition, have a district magnitude of greater than one. Although the Alternative Vote is a non-proportional system, it cannot be used either, because students did not rate their electoral preferences as this system requires. The electoral system for determining the electoral systems for the class is therefore restricted to non-proportional systems such as the First Past The Post and the Second Ballot methods.

Another potential problem is revealed by noting the various possibilities and combinations of the student’s electoral preferences for, making it quite difficult to conduct a systematic count. For example, it might prove necessary to combine all the ballots that advocate List PR for parliamentary elections, in spite of the fact that students will most likely advocate different forms of List PR such as the highest average system or the largest remainder system, among other variations. If List PR won the election in this way, then a second vote would be necessary to determine which form of List PR was most preferred among the ballots favoring List PR.