Whipped Votes, Floor Crossing, and the Perils of Party Discipline

In Ottawa’s latest uptick of political drama, NDP leader Thomas Mulcair called on MP Claude Patry to resign his seat Thursday, after the latter joined the Bloc Quebecois. Noting that Patry, while still a New Democrat, voted with the rest of the caucus last year to ban the practice of floor crossing, Mulcair said, “We call upon him to have the courage of those convictions, to step down from his seat in Jonquiere-Alma, and run in a by-election if he thinks the people of his riding support him.”

In principle, I happen to agree with the NDP position on this issue — it is simply a matter of respecting voters — but it is also a bit rich for Mulcair to be pontificating about Patry’s obligation to live up to his clearly expressed principles. Are we supposed to ignore the fact that the NDP floor crossing vote in question was whipped? That as a matter of course, party leaders every day deprive their caucuses of the freedom to decide for themselves how to vote?

For me, this episode serves to highlight the suffocating spectre of party discipline that blights Canadian democracy. Such a rigidly authoritarian phenomenon subverts the very logic of Parliamentary sovereignty and responsible government, according to which cabinet must maintain the support of the House of Commons. Not a particularly tough sell when cabinet is permitted to crush all dissent and coerce its MPs into supporting the party line. The result of this tradition in Canada and other Westminster democracies is the absurd spectacle of unthinking parliamentarians saying what they’re told to say, voting how they’re told to vote, and displaying lockstep unanimity of a kind that would earn envy from election rigging dictatorships the world over.

Democracy would be better served by reversing the current practice and making whipped votes the exception rather than the rule. I can understand if party leaders might choose to tighten the leash a little when basic rights are at stake (and here I am inclined to include certain environmental questions too), but most Parliamentary votes do not fall into this category. Even budget bills and other confidence measures do not really need to be whipped. After all, what is so perverse about the idea of forcing a government to negotiate with its backbenchers and earn their support?

Admittedly, reasonable arguments do exist in favour of party discipline. Deprived of the stern authority of party elites, individual MPs might be emboldened to make all sorts of frivolous demands of the government, to place their constituents’ local interests ahead of the national interest, or to sell their souls to nefarious, deep-pocketed lobbyists. Our increasingly dysfunctional neighbours to the south, where party discipline is far more relaxed, serve as a cautionary tale on all counts.

There are no easy answers to these objections. At the very least, legislation limiting the mixture of money and politics must be vigilantly protected — indeed, expanded — and this is true with or without any reduction in party discipline. Aside from that, the freer and more deliberative system that I envision simply demands a lot more of voters. If the authority of parties is diminished, it must be a principled and engaged citizenry, not big money or narrow parochialism, that steps in to fill the vacuum. There is no way around it; we have to be the ones to hold our representatives to account.

And what about the issue of floor crossing that prompted all the above reflections? How can I wish to loosen the iron grip of party discipline while at the same time making it more difficult for parliamentarians to switch parties? The answer is that increasing the autonomy of MPs is not a good in itself, but only a vehicle for raising the influence of the electorate. While rank-and-file members of party caucuses must become more powerful on average, this power should come at the expense of their leaders, not their constituents. Voters deserve the opportunity to determine both which individuals and which parties represent them in Parliament.

So, Mr. Mulcair, demand that Mr. Patry step down from his seat if you must. Frankly, I agree with you. But insisting that your caucus members demonstrate the “courage of their convictions” rings hollow unless you allow them freely to form and express those convictions in the first place.

Quebec, Referendums, and Formulas for Secession

National unity is back in the news after the NDP tabled a private member’s bill yesterday, a bill that would repeal the Clarity Act and set the bar for Quebec sovereignty negotiations at a mere 50 percent plus one in a clearly worded referendum.

We all know what that means. The NDP, it will be claimed over the coming days and weeks, is “in bed with the separatists” and willing to “tear our country apart” for partisan advantage. There is nothing those treacherous socialists won’t do to preserve the Faustian bargain that won them Quebec in 2011!

Never mind that one can with perfect consistency oppose Quebec separatism while at the same time supporting Quebec’s right to separate if that is what its residents choose (so far they haven’t). And never mind the disingenuousness of those who scream and rage at the prospect of a 50 percent plus one threshold for “destroying the country” while not uttering a peep about the routine formation of majority governments with less than 40 percent of the vote.

No, never mind any of that. The real issue comes down to the following question: is a simple majority of votes in a referendum enough to bestow legitimacy upon Quebec’s decision to secede? The answer, as is so often the case, is “yes and no.” It’s complicated.

The common federalist demand for a “clear majority” before agreeing to entertain the notion of secession (while rarely defining the threshold at which numbers become sufficiently clear) is understandable. If 51 percent of Quebeckers vote to separate, what happens if they change their minds after a year or two, as marginal majorities are wont to do? Would their new sovereign government offer them another referendum? Would the winning percentage still be 50 plus one? Would the rest of Canada even want them back? Such a low bar for secession could make things messy and unpredictable.

On the other hand, in the case of a virtually split province, why should the system be biased in favour federalism rather than separatism? Why must the supermajoritarian burden rest solely on the shoulders of sovereigntists? Simple majority rule has its faults, but surely minority rule is even worse.

There are no easy answers to this problem. What is needed is some kind of compromise, something that will satisfy both federalists and sovereigntists. I would like to humbly submit, as a possible candidate for such a compromise, what with characteristic appellative inspiration I call the “three-referendum rule.”

What I propose is that the Quebec provincial government, should it see fit to do so, hold a series of three referendums over the span of a decade — one every five years. All three referendums would, in the same unambiguous language, ask Quebec voters if they wish to form a separate country. Fifty percent plus one would be the necessary threshold for victory. If a majority votes “yes” in the first referendum, Quebec would remain a part of the Canadian federation for the time being, but would receive greater autonomy therein. If a majority votes “yes” a second time, Quebec’s autonomy would increase still further. And with a third “yes” vote, ten years after the first, Quebec would finally achieve the status of independent nation-state. If, however, any of the three referendums fails to produce the requisite simple majority of “yes” votes, the whole procedure would be sent back to square one.

While I believe this three-referendum rule to be the fairest secession formula on offer, there are undoubtedly some difficulties involved as well. It would almost certainly require a constitutional amendment in order to be put into effective use, and the nature of the stages of Quebec autonomy within the Canadian federation would need to be spelled out in detail. Furthermore, this secession formula must not be imposed unilaterally by one party on another. There has to be broad agreement by everyone involved — federal and provincial, federalist and sovereigntist — before the three-referendum rule can be put into practice.

And what if there is no such broad agreement? Then we must fall back on imperfect solutions. Even in the absence of three referendums held in five-year increments, approximations can be made. The principle of self-determination requires that decision makers glean whatever information they can to determine the will of the people of Quebec.

And a referendum, even just one, in which a simple majority of Quebec voters sends a message to the rest of Canada — well, that’s a pretty strong expression of the people’s will.

Environmental Rights and Canada’s Constitution

Our Conservative government’s recent penchant for gutting several decades’ worth of environmental rules all at once using the stealthy technique of omnibus legislation is no secret. Given this depressing reality, some Canadian environmentalists yearn to ground conservation in something more stable, more permanent, than mere statutory law.

Enter environmental rights.

Environmental lawyer David Boyd, author of The Environmental Rights Revolution and The Right to a Healthy Environment, makes a powerful case for directly and explicitly enshrining environmental rights into national constitutions. He notes that over 140 countries in all parts of the world now have constitutions that feature some form of environmental protection, finds a correlation between these provisions and strong environmental performance, and provides examples of these tools being put to work by regular people and enforced by the courts.

Unfortunately, Canada finds itself on the wrong side of this divide, making no mention of the environment in any of its constitutional documents. Accordingly, and contrary to our self-image, we tend to find ourselves situated near the bottom of OECD rankings on environmental measures. It is for this reason that David Boyd and many other Canadian environmentalists support some kind of green amendment to Canada’s Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

Three possible objections to this approach spring immediately to mind. First, it is often claimed that human beings ought to regard their relationship to the natural world from a perspective of duties, whereas national constitutions more often than not speak the language of rights. Would environmental rights take us in the wrong direction?

I prefer not to get bogged down too much in such symbolic considerations, as it is a well-known truism that every right has a corresponding responsibility. If Canada were to confer upon its citizens a constitutional right to a healthy environment, this would entail enforceable responsibilities to respect this right on the part of individuals, industrial polluters, and all levels of government. But if semantics are a concern, I would certainly not object to a constitutional amendment that characterizes sustainability as both a right and a duty.

Second, not everyone has equal access to the institutions of justice. Could it be that the environmental rights approach would provide remedies only for those who can afford to take the government to court?

The legal system’s inaccessibility is a serious problem for many poor people, but it is a problem that is neither created nor exacerbated by the idea of constitutionally enshrining protection of the environment. Much environmental destruction is so widespread and indiscriminate that virtually everyone suffers (although the poor are without doubt more vulnerable). However, even in those unjust cases where the cries of poor communities go unheard, the solution is not to prevent a potentially useful environmental remedy from coming into being, but to work all the more strenuously to reduce inequality and make the benefits of the legal system more widely available.

The third possible objection is that environmental laws are best left in the hands of democratically elected governments. To allow unelected judges to overturn any aspect of environmental governance put in place by Parliament, according to this argument, is anti-democratic.

This objection is routinely trotted out every time someone disagrees with a court decision, and in fact was commonly heard during the original debate over the adoption of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. But if it is granted that the courts ought to be able to overrule the government on at least some occasions — and the majority of Canadians who support the Charter’s existence must believe this — then we should ask ourselves what makes it acceptable.

For me, it comes down to the issue of majority rule. In certain situations, even in a democracy, majority rule is not the appropriate way to settle things. Take individual and minority rights, for instance. Freedom of speech, freedom of religion, marriage equality, and aboriginal rights are a few of the many areas widely considered to be none of the majority’s business, and hence offered explicit or implicit constitutional protection. I believe that the well-being of the natural world is entitled to the same protection, because not all relevant stakeholders are included in a democratic majority. Particularly glaring in their absence from the electorate are future generations and other species — entities who, it might be argued, have even more to lose from environmental destruction than the current generation of human voters.

Yes, for practical reasons it is necessary to secure the consent of the majority and its representatives in dealing with many environmental questions, but that should not give elected governments unlimited authority. For future generations and other species, as well as for ourselves, we must to some extent keep the long-term health of the natural world out of reach from the frivolous, short-term machinations of this or that government, to bestow upon the environment the same aura of almost inviolate importance as constitutionally protected civil liberties.

If only such environmental rights existed already, whining about foreign-backed radicals might be the extent of a government’s attack on the natural world, rather than a mere opening salvo.

Obama, Romney, and the Electoral College

2008 Electoral College

With opinion polls ahead of next week’s election showing the two candidates for President approximately tied but giving Barack Obama a slight edge in the Electoral College, there now exists the real possibility that the latter could be reelected despite losing the popular vote. In other words, we could have a reversal of 2000.

Now perhaps this occurrence is less likely than it appears to be, but in some ways, it could be an ideal outcome. First, Mitt Romney would not be President, so yay! Second, the sight of an Obama win despite his second-place finish in popular support might be just the infuriating kick in the crotch Republicans need to align themselves with efforts to get rid of the Electoral College. And with Democrats still fuming over George W. Bush’s victory over Al Gore in 2000, this kind of reform might actually have a chance.

The Electoral College is the archaic institution that — despite all the symbolic hoopla of a one-person-one-vote national election — is solely responsible for selecting the President of the United States. Its members are chosen by state governments on the basis of state-by-state results of the national vote. In other words, whichever Presidential candidate wins in a state gets all of that state’s Electoral votes (except in Maine and Nebraska where Electoral votes are distributed by Congressional district).

The problem with this method of indirectly electing a President is threefold. First, there is the aforementioned chance that the popular vote winner might lose the election, an anti-democratic travesty that has already occurred in 1876, 1888, and — most famously — 2000. Second, states with small populations are overrepresented in the Electoral College (be afraid, dear Republicans, this sounds suspiciously like redistribution!) — with one Electoral vote being worth 478,000 eligible voters in Pennsylvania, but only 139,000 in Wyoming. And third, it is thanks to the Electoral College that Americans must put up with the absurd spectacle of virtually all the campaigning in a supposedly national election occurring exclusively in ten to fifteen “swing states.” Taken individually, the majority of American voters who live in “safe states” — red or blue — have virtually no impact on who wins the Presidency.

So what can be done? Even with considerable bipartisan support, there is little chance of a Constitutional amendment abolishing the Electoral College. Such a reform would require two-thirds support in both houses of Congress, plus the approval of three-quarters of the states — an almost prohibitive level of consensus. Thankfully, there exists an alternative in the form of the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact.

According to this voluntary agreement, state governments pledge to distribute all their Electoral votes to whichever Presidential candidate wins the national popular vote, regardless of in-state results. Once the agreement comes into effect with states representing more than fifty percent of Electoral votes signing on, it would, in effect, allow the Electoral College to be bypassed without having to bother with a Constitutional amendment. And with eight states and the District of Columbia already having agreed, advocates of this plan are nearly halfway to their target.

So now it is only a matter of finding the other half. If Mitt Romney wins the popular vote next week while Barack Obama wins the Electoral College, it is conceivable that more than a few red states might climb aboard the popular vote bandwagon, and the United States could be one giant step closer to this strange idea that in a democracy, you vote for your leader directly.

An Open Letter to Stephen Harper Regarding Senate Reform

Dear Prime Minister Stephen Harper:

I am writing today in response to reports that you will seek a Supreme Court reference on the constitutionality of your proposals for Senate reform. In a way, I can understand this. You would like clarity on a politically tricky issue, one that would otherwise almost inevitably face judicial challenge.

Personally, I do not believe the court will fully endorse all features of your plan, as the Constitution Act, 1982 is quite clear regarding the constitutional amendment requirements for such fundamental changes to the upper house. But either way, both you and I know that pursuing Senate reform by statute is not a long-term solution. Any future government will be able to repeal your legislation without difficulty.

What Canada really needs, to settle the decades-long debate once and for all, is a national referendum. Not one in which the issue of Senate reform is muddied by other matters, as in the Charlottetown Accord, but a single stand-alone nationwide vote on the future of the Red Chamber. Voters should be given a choice between three possibilities: 1) an appointed Senate, 2) an elected Senate, and — my personal favourite (see here and here for my reasoning) — 3) abolition of the Senate. The ballot would also need to be preferential to make sure the winner has majority support.

Once the dust from the referendum has settled and one of these three options has become legitimized by popular endorsement, it should then become easier to get seven provincial governments representing half the country’s population (as required by the Constitution Act, 1982) to, if necessary, back a constitutional amendment. Will the provinces inevitably put aside their differences and come to an agreement after such an exercise? There is no guarantee. But this at least represents a better shot at a permanent resolution to the Senate reform debate than your Supreme Court reference case.

And what if voters settle on something other than your preferred route of an elected Senate? Am I being naive in asking you to put your own preferred outcome at risk? Only you can answer that question, Mr. Harper. All I can do is urge you to recognize that what unites all proposals for Senate reform is the desire to deepen democracy in our country. So please, respect the people — the demos — in their right to decide for themselves what institutions are most appropriate for the expression of their will. This is the only way of dealing with the Senate that truly embraces democracy.

Sincerely,

David Taub Bancroft

Referendums: The Perils and the Possibilities

Direct democracy is to representative democracy what extra-virgin olive oil is to refined olive oil. The latter is more cost effective and, perhaps according to some, just as good. But to the connoisseur, there is no substitute for the real stuff.

In the fourth article of his ongoing series on democracy, Toronto Star columnist Rick Salutin examines the real stuff in the form of Swiss referendums. Several national referendums are held together four times per year in Switzerland on everything from tax policy to constitutional amendments to international treaties. Direct democracy advocates all around the world look on enviously, and it is easy to understand why. Whatever it is that makes representative democracy good — equality, civic engagement, rule by the people, etc. — surely makes direct democracy even better.

In his Patterns of Democracy, Dutch-American political scientist Arend Lijphart makes the somewhat counterintuitive argument that referendums, when initiated by citizens as they frequently are in Switzerland, can be used as a tool for consensus rather than blunt majoritarianism. Citizens’ initiatives allow a minority of the population (Switzerland requires a minimum of 50,000 to 100,000 signatories on such petitions) to make proposals or present challenges that would otherwise go unconsidered by elected lawmakers. More than 50 percent of voters must ultimately approve the initiative in the ensuing referendum in order for it to pass, but the key point is minorities now have a chance they would not otherwise have to persuade the majority. Salutin notes that Swiss laws live in “the shadow of the referendum,” and thus that lawmakers preemptively build broad-based compromises into their legislation in order to avoid challenge.

But does it always work out that way? How about the famous 2009 referendum in which the Swiss, apparently inspired by anti-Muslim xenophobia, voted to ban the construction of minarets? Far from consensus democracy, this seems more a case of that much condemned “tyranny of the majority.” Referendums, it is commonly warned, merely enable the violation of individual and minority rights.

Can this be guarded against? Is there any way to keep the good referendums while tossing out the bad ones? The most reliable protection against majoritarian tyranny is without doubt a strong written constitution backed up by judicial review, but the drafters of a constitution cannot possibly anticipate every future impingement upon individual and minority rights. What other options are there?

One source of inspiration is the Recall and Initiative Act here in British Columbia (the only Canadian province where such a law exists). Once the required number of signatures is gathered on an initiative, the proposed legislation is simply handed to the Legislature. By convention, it is commonly expected that a successful initiative will be put before the public in a referendum, but if they wish, lawmakers may simply choose to vote yea or nay on their own.

I personally believe that this procedure strikes the right balance, although not every other aspect of the law is reasonable. In giving canvassers only three months to gather the signatures of 10 percent of registered voters in every single riding, the bar is set way too high. It is no coincidence that since the Act came into effect in 1995, only one initiative out of seven attempts has passed the required threshold. For the initiative law to have a significant impact, the minimum number of signatures should be lowered or the amount of time set aside for gathering them should be increased. But the Legislature’s decision to retain a final say as a safeguard against abuse is a good idea (as are some of the campaign finance rules).

So let open-minded democrats the world over consider the advantages of Swiss-style direct democracy while remaining wary of the risks. In order to function properly, it requires careful institutional design and an informed and engaged citizenry. If these conditions are met, the reward is democracy as it was always meant to be.

Rick Salutin on Democracy, Parties, and Electoral Reform

“Democracy,” as Winston Churchill famously stated, “is the worst form of Government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.” Less famously, he also remarked that “The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.”

Notwithstanding this somewhat anemic endorsement, those who live under democracy tend to quite like it. We often devote ourselves to attempts at strengthening the people’s rule. A recent effort in this vein comes courtesy of columnist Rick Salutin and his series on democratic renewal for the Toronto Star.

Salutin, in the second instalment of his series, places much of the blame for what ails Canadian democracy on political parties. According to him, parties “don’t exist to represent the views of the public, or even sections of it, or even their own members. Maybe they once did, or maybe not. But now they exist to win elections.” He describes historical bids to loosen their grip on power and notes the almost universal failure of such efforts “as if the system we have generates antibodies to invasive, democratizing forces and rejects them while bulking up the undemocratic elements.” His piece strongly implies that we should do away with parties altogether and allow MPs to represent their constituents without mediation, while lamenting that this is unlikely to ever happen.

My own position is somewhere between Salutin’s and the status quo. I am glad there are parties for two reasons. First, they serve as a kind of shorthand for voters. It is not reasonable to expect all people to conduct detailed research into the policy planks of each of their local candidates (even if perhaps they should be paying at least a little more attention than they currently do). Party affiliation allows voters to make reasonable assumptions about candidates’ values. Second, and more importantly, an MP’s membership in a party is a sign that he or she is capable of working with others and being held accountable. These are important virtues for anyone who seeks to govern.

However, it is hard to deny that in our current system, parties have far more power than they need. But rather than eliminating them, the solution lies simply in allowing more free votes in Parliament. I would not go so far as to say that no Parliamentary votes should ever be whipped, but why not make such a practice the exception rather than the rule? An increased number of free votes, in addition to allowing MPs to more directly represent the views of their constituents, would enable the House of Commons to more effectively fulfill its deliberative function. Debates might become opportunities for persuasion and give-and-take, rather than merely parroting the party line.

More surprising than Salutin’s critique of Canada’s rigid party system is his somewhat cooled attitude towards proportional representation (PR). While he confesses that he sits “on the advisory board of a group that advocates PR” and says that he would “still vote for PR, but in a sour frame of mind,” he appears no longer to be one of the “true believers” primarily for two reasons.

First, mere electoral reform does not go far enough. In his words, “I find it a little embarrassing that our main contribution to the global movement toward democratic renewal is an earnest effort to do so little.” Put another way, “Maybe the problem isn’t how parties are represented; maybe it’s parties . . . .” His second issue with PR is that it may actually exacerbate the problem. Parties, he says, “would wax even stronger under PR than they do now.”

While I can sympathize with Salutin’s first objection, I am not sure that I agree with his second. The tyrannical nature of parties is more a matter of political culture than institutional arrangement. But even disregarding this fact, there is no reason to believe that parties would hold more power over MPs under forms of PR that require voters to select individual candidates, like mixed-member proportional (MMP) and the single transferable vote (STV). In fact, it is possible that parties might become slightly weaker under STV or even open-list PR, as such systems require candidates of the same party to compete against one another for votes.

All this being said, Salutin’s article is a fascinating one and I encourage people to read it. If it begins a conversation that ends with a moderation of Canada’s antiquated system of party discipline, then I will find it hard to fault him for our minor areas of disagreement. I eagerly await all subsequent instalments in his series on democracy.

Friendly Canadian Input on the US Election

The sun is shining. The flowers are blooming. We are in a year that is divisible by four. I think we all know what that means. In a matter of months, our American friends will once again start hanging chads or whatever it is they do to hold a presidential election, and the entire world, as usual, will be watching.

I hope my southern neighbours (yes, we spell it with a “u” up here) will not take offence (with a “c”) if I offer a little advice. Barack Obama is without doubt a much better choice than Mitt Romney, but he is still far from ideal. For this reason, I recommend that American voters consider all their options in November and not hastily rule out third party candidates such as presumptive Green Party nominee Jill Stein.

This, of course, leads us to that perennial (or at least quadrennial) topic of political contention, strategic voting. In my quaint little Canadian elections, I have yet to fall victim to this temptation, for I question its long-term value. Yes, strategic voting can be a useful way to prevent the worst of the worst from taking power, but is that all we should aspire to? What incentive do Obamaesque moderates then have to take strong progressive stances without the pull of small third parties putting the fear of God in them and threatening to siphon off their votes? Even if the Greens and their ilk have no realistic shot at victory in the current election, they can have an excellent influence on those who do win.

So does that mean that strategic voting (or tactical voting, more accurately, keeping in mind the military distinction between tactics and strategies) is never justified? No. Sometimes there is so much at stake in a single election that the conscientious voter must temporarily abandon the long view.

So what is at stake in 2012?

One word (umm, give or take): health care.

With Obama’s health law no longer at risk of being tossed out by the Supreme Court, the fight is set to move onto centre stage of the election campaign. Mitt Romney has promised that if elected President, he will immediately kill Obamacare with an executive order, and while his constitutional ability to do so has been questioned, he probably does have at least some ways of sabotaging the young law with or without a compliant congress.

As I have argued in this space before, the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act is far from perfect, but it is a major step in the right direction. For the first time in American history, it is illegal for health insurance companies to deny someone coverage simply because he or she has a prior condition. Many an entertaining semantic tussle could be waged over whether or not this truly qualifies Obama’s law as “universal health care,” but whatever it is, this year’s election is the Republican Party’s last and best chance to destroy it. They know that if they don’t dispose of Obamacare before the benefits start to kick in over the next few years, they never will. Voters might discover that they actually like it.

So with the fate of tens of millions of uninsured Americans hanging in the balance, it is crucially important that Romney not be elected President. Does that mean that all progressives need to vote for Obama? Thankfully, no. The Electoral College is an archaic institution, but its one redeeming feature is that since only a few “swing states” decide presidential elections, most Americans can safely follow their hearts without risk of splitting the vote. Simply by browsing one of the web’s many electoral maps, progressive voters can devise informed voting strategies based on where they live.

But do not think that just because I wish to prevent the other guy’s election, Obama is off the hook. It is up to environmentalists, civil libertarians, and corporate accountability advocates (even if they live in swing states and wind up voting for Obama) to maintain — indeed, crank up — the pressure. From now until election day and beyond, the President must be lobbied, petitioned, and constructively protested until he agrees to make up for the shortfalls of his first term — chief among them the appalling lack of action on climate change. If Romney is the one to be sworn into the Oval Office, however, it will all have been for naught.

In summary: a vote for Obama in the swing states, a vote for Jill Stein in the safe states, and unrelenting pressure on all who wield power. That, my American readers, is a surefire formula for success. Now if only you would be so kind as to advise us on our own government problems.

Do you still do regime change?

Update 14/07/2012: This post has been republished here at backofthebook.ca.

On Egypt’s Presidential Election

It’s official. More than one year after the overthrow of hated dictator Hosni Mubarak, the Muslim Brotherhood’s Mohamed Morsi has won Egypt’s run-off presidential election with 51.7 percent support. This outcome was widely known ever since last weekend’s vote wrapped up. What was unknown was whether Egypt’s military rulers, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, would allow Morsi to take power. Apparently they will.

What did the Brotherhood have to do to achieve this concession? Party officials reportedly spent the week after the vote negotiating with the military, and some have speculated that Morsi’s victory would be conditional on his acceptance of recent army power grabs — moves that many say amount to nothing less than a coup d’etat. In the absence of a permanent constitution, the ruling generals have been whittling away at the authority of the the president. Furthermore, two days before the run-off, the Mubarak-appointed Supreme Court dissolved the Brotherhood-dominated parliament elected last year. Party candidates won seats reserved for independents, but instead of simply calling by-elections where appropriate, the court rejected the legitimacy of the entire parliament and gave the military sole power over legislation.

It is strange for me to find myself defending the Muslim Brotherhood. True, as far as religious parties go, they are far from extreme. They disavow violence and are sometimes compared to Turkey’s governing Justice and Development Party, that paragon of moderation within political Islam. However, virtually any mixture of religion and politics makes me uncomfortable, and it does not help that Morsi himself, in 2007, notoriously drafted a model platform for his party that called for the Egyptian presidency to be restricted to Muslim men. This is not what the young secular revolutionaries of Tahrir Square have been fighting for.

All this being said, Morsi and the Brotherhood are without doubt the choice of the people. If the international community is serious about encouraging the spread of freedom and democracy as represented by the Arab Spring, Egypt’s election results must be unconditionally respected. I agree with the position taken by Egyptian satirist Bassem Youssef, as stated during his appearance last week on the Daily Show (click here to view the clip in Canada or here in the United States):

I don’t agree with the Muslim Brotherhood or the Salafists — I have major differences with them — but it’s wrong to hide inside your bubble and go running to the military asking them to protect you, because for 60 years, their rule in Egypt actually has created this kind of poverty, extremism, radicalism. The only way is actually to open up for everybody. Because you know what happened to the Muslim Brotherhood? After the parliamentary elections, they won by 75 percent. In two months, in the presidential election, they lost half of their votes just because they were accountable for the first time in 80 years. Just give them power and let them deal with it. And believe me, this is the only way for democracy.

In short, the situation is far from ideal. The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces is reluctant to loosen its grip on power. Neither Morsi nor his run-off opponent Ahmed Shafik, Mubarak’s last prime minister, is a liberal democrat’s dream candidate. But Egyptian democracy itself, even in its unsteady opening phase, is very much worthy of celebration. Let us hope that it lasts and grows, that the Egyptian people continue to show the courage and determination that inspired the world sixteen months ago.

Retiring the Monarchy

Alright, what longstanding Canadian institution shall we dispense with today?

Queen Elizabeth II has been all over the news of late in honour of her Diamond Jubilee. Never satisfied, some of those rabble-rousing muckrakers in the NDP have refused to join in the festivities. That killjoy Pat Martin in particular, MP for Winnipeg Centre, is using the opportunity to call on Canada to sever its ties to the British monarchy.

This may not be something I would describe as an urgent national priority, but it is worth thinking about. If we were to start over from scratch, would we want a hereditary ruler as head of state — even if he or she carried little real power?

The glowing reviews of the Jubilee celebrations in London offer some hint of why one might reply in the affirmative. The Queen is a permanent and stable figure in our fickle world of politics, representing the immortal state rather than just this or that government. She stands above the fray, providing an air of dignity in contrast to the partisan bickering of our elected officials.

But is that what Canadians today really get out of the monarchy? Or are the royals just a bunch of overblown celebrities? There is nothing wrong with the latter of course, but why must Canadian taxpayers subsidize such tabloid fodder to the tune of $50 million per year — a larger sum per capita than what the Brits pay? If we are to dish out that kind of money, shouldn’t we expect some kind of concrete public service in return — something more than the ephemera of televised parties and weddings and the superficially comforting thought that we are different than Americans?

Well, the skeptic will rightly ask, what is the alternative?

The easiest answer is that we could just carry on as usual with the Governor General. He or she would no longer simply stand in for the British monarch as a representative, but would instead become Canada’s official head of state.

But if prime ministers are to continue appointing Governors General, only now without long-held traditions to restrain the drive for unaccountable power, might not this create a conflict of interest?

Indeed it might. Perhaps the Governor General could be elected.

But why is it alright to spend exorbitant sums on an election — the one in 2011 cost $291 million — if it is unacceptable to pay for a time-honoured hereditary institution? In fact, why pay anything for a Governor General — elected or appointed — if indeed the public purse is oh-so-precious?

My imagined skeptic may have a point here. Why not get rid of the office of Governor General altogether? The prime minister could occupy the dual role of head of state and head of government. This would not require Canada’s transformation into a presidential system. Botswana and South Africa are both parliamentary democracies whose “presidents” (we could continue using the term “prime minister” — it’s not important) play both functions.

Then who would step in on those rare occasions when the Governor General is called upon to cease smiling for the camera and do some real work? How would governments be formed in minority parliaments? Who would grant (or refuse?) a prime minister’s request for a prorogation?

These matters could very easily be solved by simply agreeing upon procedures, establishing them in law, and leaving no room for personal judgement. Let us take government formation as an example. After an election, the law could give the party with the most seats a fixed maximum amount of time (two weeks, let’s say) to form a government. This prospective government would be required to survive an investiture vote in the House of Commons before taking office. If the party has a majority, completing this task would be easy. If not, it would have to negotiate with other parties with the end goal of fashioning a coalition or some lesser agreement. If this first party fails to form a government, the torch would be passed to the second party. And so the procedure would continue until we have a government.

Easy, right? Canada needs no Queen, King, Governor General, or any other figurehead. The sooner we realize this, the sooner we can devote our public funds to serving the public. So please join me again soon for future installments in my ongoing series about how I know better than the wise, the rich, and the powerful. Until next time!