Seduced by direct democracy
Places which have incorporated a referendum-based system report mixed results
For some political scientists direct democracy is a double-edged sword, one that cuts throats as well as it does bread. The Economist referred to it in an April article as a genie which once out of the bottle cannot be persuaded back in: people like power just as much as politicians, and are unwilling to give it up once they get a taste for it. Even proponents of direct democracy tend to say that it should be used sparingly; experience shows that its victims are often vulnerable minorities.
Switzerland and California are two of the best-known examples of direct democracy, places where voters, through referendums and popular initiatives, are able to wield a major influence over government policy. But does that mean that democracy in Switzerland and California is more "real" than in Spain, for example?
"The average Swiss believes that the state is still theirs, not the politicians"
"The voter has to make a decision based on a 30-second ad"
Daniel Ordaz is a 36-year-old lawyer with Swiss nationality. Active in politics through the Social Democratic Party, he accepts that the system has its defects, but says it is the least imperfect of systems.
"The average Swiss believes that the state is still his or hers, regardless of whether they have voted to allow seven or so people to run it for four years," he says. "But voters don't give their government absolute control over decision making during those four years. In Switzerland candidates are presented in open lists: the electorate decides, not the party. The Swiss believe that anything public is theirs. But in Spain, smashing a phone booth is a revolutionary act, even if you have paid for it through taxes. But the huge advantage of direct democracy is that most of the time it doesn't actually have to be employed. In Switzerland, a great many laws are agreed through pacts. Awareness on the part of the government that if it goes too far the opposition will call a referendum means that the executive is cautious."
Antonio Hodgers, a 35-year-old Argentinean immigrant, and now a member of the Swiss parliament where he leads the Green Party, says that the great thing about direct democracy is that nobody can blame the government. "There is no disconnection between politicians and the electorate. But the downside is that many people use their vote to approve laws that they wouldn't dare to do unless they were guaranteed anonymity. If you are in parliament, you have to justify your position. But if nobody knows who you are, then you can approve racist legislation."
In a 2009 referendum 57 percent of Swiss approved a proposal by a rightwing party to ban the construction of minarets in new mosques. Just 12 months later, the Swiss voted for the immediate expulsion of foreigners found guilty of serious crimes.
"That law means that the child of a Spanish emigrant, even if he or she was born here, can be expelled if found guilty of having committed a crime. We still don't know how the law will be applied, because it breaches fundamental rights. But people approved it in a referendum, although it was only backed by a far-right party," says Hodgers. "On other issues, aside from racism, people can be very mature. There was a move to increase the speed limit, and people said no. In some areas voters have approved tax increases."
Hodgers says that Switzerland is creating a problem of "too much" democracy. "Which is why the Greens are proposing to limit direct democracy slightly, just a little. Proposals that affect fundamental rights cannot be put to a popular vote."
The Swiss people can put any law approved by their state representatives, whether at regional or local level, to a referendum. This means in practice around three or four referendums a year. "It sounds very romantic. It sounds as though you are able to stop the news when something is announced that made you angry, and change the law by collecting signatures for a referendum. The reality is that it is the labor unions or the business confederations who manage to garner 10,000 or 50,000 signatures in a country of just under eight million people," says Ordaz.
Switzerland's rightwing parties believe that there are too many referendums, says Loly Bolay, a Socialist and another member of parliament of Spanish parentage. "They might be right. And it is true that at times the referendums are unconstitutional, for example banning minarets in a country where there are at most four of five such mosques. But if you add up the pros and cons of participative democracy, then the benefits outweigh the downsides."
Paradoxically, while Spain's youth is clamoring for more democracy, Swiss young people are losing their interest in voting. "The generation aged 50 to 60 vote much more than those in their twenties and thirties. It's a shame," says Hodgers. "A while ago, we lost a referendum on a law that would have helped young unemployed people, who have been hit hard by the crisis. But we lost because they couldn't be bothered to vote."
California is a relative newcomer to people power. The state introduced referendums around a decade ago, following the Swiss model. Surveys show that around 90 percent of Californians believe their government is useless. Unemployment is among the highest in the country, and its credit rating among the lowest. At the same time, direct democracy has spread and spread. In the 1960s there were just nine referendums. By the 1990s that figure had grown to 61 over the decade, and between 2000 and 2010, there were a record 74.
In an article called The Dangers of Extreme Democracy, The Economist posed the question as to why a state which is home to the combined talent of Silicon Valley and Hollywood could be so badly run. It concluded that the main problem is direct democracy, thanks to which, in 1978, the famous Proposition 13 was passed, since when, property tax has been frozen. The article argued that California offers an ideal lesson about how not to do things. "What has gone wrong in California could go wrong anywhere," its authors concluded.
Mexican political analyst Luis Rubio, the head of the CIDAC research center, believes that California is a paradise for referendum organizers. "The groups that organize referendums are much more important than the voters," he says. Rubio believes that direct participation by voters in politics can be a useful tool, but only in societies with a long tradition of democracy, citing cases such as Venezuela and Libya where politicians have used the electorate simply to legitimate their decisions.
Henryk Rehbinder is the lead writer for the Californian daily La Opinión. He says that the state's democracy has been in decline for a decade, ever since the new system was introduced as a means to fight a railroad company that was buying votes. "It has become a huge business that gives priority to big organizations. There was a referendum on whether oil companies should pay more tax. The oil companies won. They frightened everybody saying that if there were tax increases jobs, would be lost. To all intents and purposes, they bought votes," says Rehbinder.
"There are companies who get between two and five dollars for every signature they collect. Suddenly there were people waiting outside supermarkets explaining to passersby why they had to vote in a certain way on whichever issue. A month before any election, we are bombarded with 30-second advertisements trying to explain very complicated issues. In the end, the electorate is being manipulated. There are questions that cannot be reduced to a simple yes or no. But given that the governor, even with his teams of specialists, cannot sort things out, he just passes the buck to the voter, who has to make a decision based on a 30-second ad," says Rehbinder, who adds that despite direct democracy's shortcomings, he still backs it: "Without it, we'd be totally dependent on the politicians, who are also subject to private interests."
David Altman, a Uruguayan academic and author of Direct Democracy Worldwide, believes that the approach has been unfairly blamed for California's ills. "The Supreme Court refused to put spending limits on campaigns. So who is to blame: direct democracy or the judges?" he asks. Altman says that more and more countries are turning to direct democracy (Italy, Lithuania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Uruguay, and in the United States, now Oregon). But agrees with the The Economist's assessment that it is "a genie that is hard to get back in the bottle."
The experts mentioned in this article also agree that it is not a one-size-fits-all model that can be used in all countries. "If it were to be used in Spain, for example, the mistakes that have been made in other countries would have to be borne in mind," says Daniel Ordaz. "There is no question of taking the Swiss Constitution and simply scratching out Berne and putting Madrid in its place. The Swiss have many years experience with direct democracy, and we have only been able to vote since 1978."
Can there be leadership when there are no leaders?
The 15-M pro-democracy protesters who took over Madrid's Puerta del Sol square in May and June soon discovered the practical problems involved in allowing everybody a say in the decision-making process. They formed committees and commissions, and elected representatives to speak at meetings on their behalf, but even so, there were those who felt the need to express their opinion.
On one occasion, during a discussion on reducing the numbers of people in the square so as to avoid a police clearance, one woman in her forties interrupted the speak to complain about the attitude of other protesters. "Please, confine your comments to the matter in hand," she was rebuked, bringing to mind the calls to order by José Bono, the speaker in Congress. The irony was not lost on many observers.
Antonio López, a professor of Social Work at the UNED distance-learning university, says that representation is a vital part of any organization. "If we found ourselves on a desert island, we would soon reproduce the same processes of stratification that we see in our society, with some groups opting out and others taking over leadership." He says that the same thing happened in the Puerta del Sol. "The movement settled in there, and began to organize itself along the lines of committees. This in turn led to a professionalization on the part of those who were more involved, who have led the campaign, and are now the public face of the 15-M movement."
López believes that many of the key figures in the 15-M movement will end up joining mainstream parties, or forming their own. "It is the only way to get things done. There is no democracy more real than the formal institutions we currently have, because there is no other way to organize ourselves. The dream of an anarchist democracy is just that: a dream. It can never be implemented."
Jon Aguirre Such, a member of the 15-M movement, disagrees, saying that the power of the internet offers alternative ways of organizing. "Internet is now accessible through the cellphones. It is possible to access government through the internet. We don't need anything other than our own will to get things done. The software exists to allow for greater participation by the electorate," he argues. "We are at the stage where Congress can be debating something, and it can send out a text message with the issues to be voted on, and we could answer yes or no immediately," he adds.
Pablo Oñate, a professor of Political Science at the University of Valencia, is skeptical about such proposals. "It is very easy to manipulate people in referendums. The opposition can play a waiting game with the government, while the government will only call referendums on issues it is certain it will win."
This is a view shared by Ignacio Urquizu, a sociologist at Madrid Complutense University. "Real democracy is possible, but 35 million Spaniards cannot all take part in a discussion. Assemblies are not the answer either. The only way to win a vote is by taking the time and putting in the energy to exhaust your opponent."
Some of the 15-M movement's key figures have already moved on from theory. Tomás Muñoz is one of them: "I am not prepared to accept any other democracy than one that involves direct participation, and there has to be a way in which we do not delegate our decision-making capacity," he says.
"But that doesn't mean that I am against the parliamentary system. We want to improve it. We are drawing attention to the deficiencies of the current system; it must work for the people, not for the interests of big business. We want a change to the electoral system so that each vote has the same value, regardless of the origin of that vote. We want greater transparency in party funding, a system of open lists for candidates to Congress, as well as a freedom of information act that allows us access to all public documents."
Where Muñoz and critics of direct democracy agree is that if the 15-M movement were to become a formal party it would fail. "What's so special about 15-M is that it is a way for the electorate to show its discontent with the system," says Urquizu. Juan Carlos Monedero says that the wisdom of the 15-M movement lies precisely in its lack of knowledge about the workings of politics. "They don't apply the usual arguments used by the political parties. People are no longer impressed by representative democracy, abstentionism is on the increase, fewer and fewer people bother to vote. It is obvious that there is a deep-rooted malaise: there is no need to vote to produce an electoral turn around."
But Jaime Pastor, a UNED lecturer in Political Science, says that the 15-M movement lacks the skills and experience to make any headway in politics. "You have to really know how the system works if you want to attack it at its roots," he says. Pastor praises 15-M's organizational abilities, and says that it has inbuilt mechanisms that should prevent it from institutionalization, such as not allowing any single group or individuals from assuming leadership.
Tomás Muñoz, Juan Cobos, Pablo Gómez, and Lucía Delgado all stepped down from their posts last month. "It is counterproductive for the same people to be spokesmen and women: the citizens soon associate the movement with those faces. We don't want to perpetuate some kind of dysfunctional system within which reality is built through the statements of authorized voices," says the communication team at the Real Democracy Now organization.
Joan Subirats, a professor of Political Science at Barcelona's Autónoma University, is skeptical that about the hopes of the 15-M movement to implement participative democracy in Spain. "There are no historical precedents, except in very small communities scattered here and there: self organization just doesn't work on a large scale."
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