Congolese demonstrators opposing election violence- Kinshasa, November 2011

  On December 17 2010, a young Tunisian man set himself on fire.  This desperate act helped to spark a political revolution in the Arab world.  Images of people revolting against notoriously oppressive regimes captivated onlookers worldwide.  More than a year later, the world is indeed a different place – long-term dictators have been unseated, governments shuffled or disbanded altogether, and competitive political parties formed.  Leaders of states like Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and Yemen have managed to retain a hold on power, but only with some combination of repression and concessions in the face of powerful collective civic action.

For the states whose citizens won political freedom, myriad challenges remain.  Indeed, the shift to democratic elections has proved more difficult than anticipated.  This should come as no surprise – for while revolutions are swift and dramatic by definition, democratic transitions can be, in contrast, painfully gradual and mundane.   

Not so long ago, sub-Saharan Africa underwent the same sort of radical transformation sweeping North Africa and the Middle East.  In the 1980s and 90s, what scholar Samuel Huntington called the “third wave of democracy” changed the continent, unseating long-term dictators like Uganda’s Idi Amin, Guinea’s Sekou Toure, and Zaire’s Mobutu Sese-Seko.  Like the Arab Spring, Africa’s democratic phenomenon was the subject of intense international interest and optimism.  Some twenty years later, however, the political situation is more often viewed with a mixture of cynicism and despair. 

The truth is most countries in sub-Saharan Africa  remain among the poorest in the world and too many are ridden with corruption and conflict.  The United Nations Human Development Index – a comprehensive comparative measure that takes into consideration factors like poverty, security, equality, educational access, and political freedom – consistently ranks these  countries in the lowest tier.  In 2011, African states occupied three-quarters of the lowest 40 rankings.  Even Ghana and Senegal – democratic standouts in relative terms – ranked 135 and 155 respectively.  Dead last is the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The DRC has had a particularly difficult transition to democracy.  After gaining independence from Belgium in 1960, the country – like so many others in sub-Saharan Africa –attempted its first democratic elections, only to undergo a period of armed conflict that brought a fierce military dictatorship into power.  As a one-man political institution, Mobutu Sese-Seko employed harsh and exploitative tactics to maintain control for a remarkable 32 years, until internal opposition and neighbouring conflicts forged a successful armed resistance movement.  However, despite victory – and the symbolic name change from Zaire to the Democratic Republic of Congo – the new state looked much like the old.  Within months, it slid back into a brutal civil war that only officially ended in 2003.  In the years that followed, widespread violence remained prevalent, and a transitional government held only tenuous control. 

In 2006, however, the DRC held its first multiparty elections in nearly 40 years.  It did so with the monetary and administrative support of the international community, many of whom were present to oversee the process.  Voter turn-out was around 80%, but the results were highly contentious and ignited violent clashes around the country.  The results were postponed, and an extensive legal process ensued.  Nevertheless, MONUC argued that they were broadly satisfied with the level of transparency and the overall results.  In December, Joseph Kabila was declared President. 

Similarly, the elections of 2011 have been widely condemned for allegations of violence and fraud.  Although much of the criticism is merited –and I condemn absolutely voter intimidation and conflict incited by politicians– we must not forget the incredible difficulty involved in democratic transition, nor the DRC’s unique, brutal history.  If we cannot expect Egypt, with its strong tradition of military neutrality, to transition without hiccups, we must also develop a set of reasonable expectations for the Congo.  Its 15 years of “freedom” from dictatorship have been marred by civil war, mass migration, and a near-lack of decent self-governance.  The simple fact that Congolese-led elections took place at all should be viewed as a significant step on the path toward democracy. 

Democratisation is a process, not an event.  It is a long, protracted, and difficult transition that involves a radical rehaul of political leadership, institutions, and culture, and a shift in societal views on political participation, deference and civic ownership.  When this occurs in the wake of long-term violence and civil war, the process is even more complicated.  In the same way that the Arab Spring has reignited international discourse on democracy’s value, I hope that the Congolese elections can spark a discourse on reasonable expectations for democratic progression.  If we view these events in their own historical context, perhaps we can develop a better gauge of whether and how things have improved, and a deeper understanding of what remains to be done.  And, if this can be achieved, we all stand to benefit.

I was one of ninety international observers who flew into Kinshasa as part of the European Network for Central Africa’s (EurAc) observer mission. At the invitation of Congolese civil society organisations working together in the Action for Transparent and Peaceful Elections (AETA) network, EurAc’s observers were deployed in locations across Congo’s eleven provinces. EurAc’s objective was to ensure a transparent and fair  electoral process by supporting the Congolese observation effort, working in partnership to ensure a peaceful and reliable process which respected Congolese electoral law and human rights.

On arrival, I was particularly struck by how little French I actually remembered. While this may seem to be a trivial matter, it was one that grew in significance over the course of the weekend – especially when it transpired that this was to be the language of delivery for our first day of training! Luckily, I had plenty of willing translators on hand and, as each day passed, my linguistic skills improved.

Not too dissimilar to the electoral process in the UK, school buildings serve as the majority of polling centres, with individual classrooms serving as polling stations.

On Saturday 26^th November, we were tasked with ensuring that preparation was underway at the polling centres, checking whether the buildings were secure and if lists of voters had been posted.  On Sunday 27^th November, we took notes detailing whether materials, such as ballot papers and boxes had been delivered to the centres and securely distributed to individual classrooms.

By the time election day arrived, the atmosphere was electric. We arrived at the first centre at 05.30.  In the wee hours of the morning, it was an inspirational image to see nearly 100 people who had begun queuing for the anticipated 06.00 door opening. As voting clerks made final preparations for the hours that would ensue, the polling centre finally opened at 06.20.  Congolese citizens literally ran into classrooms, eager to be among the first to cast their vote.

As I spent time observing several voting sites on Monday 28^th November, I was truly inspired by the Congolese people’s enthusiasm and genuine desire for a transparent and truly fair electoral process..  Despite the ballot paper amounting to more of a ballot book due to the sheer number of parliamentary candidates, most people voted for both their future president and their parliamentarian of choice.  People took their time to ensure they adhered to the rules of voting, eager to do it properly. Most poignantly, it was apparent that people simply wanted to vote; they wanted their voice to be heard.

As we travelled to various polling stations, it was evident that the majority of voters not only wanted to participate in a fair and open election, but were genuinely grateful for the presence of the international observers.   There were four or five situations where tensions flared between voters, but these were in many ways similar to the aggravation caused by party activists in any typical British election.  On receiving complaints of misconduct, our role was to report such instances through the appropriate channels, and note any patterns or discrepancies.

At the end of the day, votes were counted in each classroom and witnesses for candidates signed in agreement of ballot figures, before these were transported in a sealed bag to the National Results Centre for verification.

While I bore witness to several amateur practices – including loose ballot papers, sloppy admin, and human error in vote counting – overall, the election day itself seemed to be quite successful. The EurAc/AETA Official Report highlights several violent incidents in the Kananga province, and there was clearly intimidation in other areas.  But the vast majority of Congolese did vote peacefully. With determination and high spirits, the majority of the people in the DRC tried to do their part to contribute to an effective and reliable democratic electoral process.  This should not be discounted or overlooked.

It is vital that the DRC’s Independent National Election Commission (CENI) works diligently and transparently to publish the election results from individual polling stations. The storm of controversy surrounding the inauguration of Joseph Kabila for a new term only reinforces the need for an open and accountable voting system. As vote counting in the parliamentary elections continues to be suspended, with officials seeking assistance from foreign election experts, I fear that time is running out for a credible election result that Congolese citizens were so desperately hoping would boost the reputation of their country, both in Africa and beyond.

A large part of the international community has responded to the elections with condemnation and frustration.  However, it is vital that criticisms of a few do not negate the sincere efforts and genuine hopes of the many.  My personal experience is that the majority of the Congolese believe in a credible and honest democratic election, and went to great lengths travelling near and far to participate.  A complete dismissal of their efforts risks undermining their faith in democratic values, the very values which the international community has worked hard to support.  It is imperative that global criticisms of corruption of the Congolese few should be met equally with admiration of the Congolese many who have endeavored to participate in the election openly and fairly.   And that the international donors, like the UK and the EU, insist on lessons learned so that the next Congolese elections meet the aspirations of the Congolese people more consistently.

A bit scary too!!

In my Stevenson Lecture at the University of Glasgow in January, I addressed the claim that election of a second chamber necessarily constitutes the ‘democratic’ option.  This is often advanced by proponents of an elected second chamber as if it were self-evidently correct.   I argued that it is not necessarily the democratic option, a point to which I returned in the debate in the House in June on the White Paper on Lords’ reform. 

I thought it would be appropriate to solicit the views of a political theorist and so approached a colleague, Dr Colin Tyler, who specialises in democratic theory.   Here is his response:

“You asked me to send you my thoughts about whether or not having an elected second chamber would help British democracy.

The conceptual points seem straightforward (even if often overlooked by the pro-reformers).  Parliament is democratic to the extent that its pronouncements and actions (crudely, the laws it makes and the policies it pursues) are determined by the electorate through the decisions of the representatives they chose at properly-constituted and authorised elections.  To the extent that such a process of determination is not reflected in Parliament’s subsequent pronouncements and actions, then Parliament fails to be fully democratic.  The crucial point in the context of Lords reform is that what matters is that the outputs of Parliament can be traced to the will of the electorate as expressed through their representatives (as just described).  Where these outputs enact something different to that will – or where they do not enact what the electorate will – then Parliament is not acting democratically.

To the extent that Lords reform will give the Lords parity with the Commons, it will divide sovereignty within Parliament, thereby making it harder for Parliament to act at all.  (Witness the recent and on-going problems with the US budget).  Consequently, democratising one part of Parliament (the Lords) will reduce the democratic character of the whole (Parliament).  And ultimately it is the democratic character of Parliament that matters, not the democratic character of its constituent parts considered in isolation from each other.

Obviously, it depends on how one thinks of Parliament.  Yet, as you can infer, I have very great concerns that, as with any complex institution, it is easy to focus on the parts while forgetting the whole from which they gain their function and worth

I am often struck by the fact that many who support Lords reform seem to wish to address these problems.  However, always the solutions they propose are palpably inadequate, often smacking of a desperate wish that ‘democracy’ meant something different.

Of course, another option would be to abolish the Lords completely.  The resulting unicameral system would be more democratic than the present system, but very possibly recklessly so.  After all, how much more havoc could both Thatcher and Blair (and many others) have reaped had they not been held in check to some degree by the Lords?”

I also worry about some of the comments on my Iran post. What is happening in Iran is part of the challenge of the 21^st century. It is about democracies with the rule of law and more authoritarian societies. There is a danger in a number of western countries where a significant minority of people seem to equate countries which have the rule of law and democratic processes with the authoritarian regimes. Anyone who thinks there is equivalence should try living in a dictatorship – it is a very sobering experience. That is why we should be clear about giving moral support to the opposition in Iran.

I take the view that what distinguishes a democratic society with the rule of law from an authoritarian society is that when things go wrong there are ways of putting it right. Whether by holding a government to account at elections or in Parliament or through the courts or the press and so on. An authoritarian society doesn’t give you that option.

Read on:

http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/ld200809/ldhansrd/text/90324-0005.htm

To what extent does the White Paper actually provide an intellectually coherent case for change as opposed simply to accepting a declaratory vote in the House of Commons?

To what extent does it define the terms that are used to underpin the case for reform?  Taking terms such as democracy, legitimacy and representation as given, as opposed to contested concepts, would suggest ignorance of the literature on the concepts as well as recent work relating them to the upper chamber.  To refer to election of the second chamber as ‘the democratic option’ as if that is a self-evident truism should be taken as indicative of intellectual laziness.

Taking one of these concepts, that of representation, to what extent is the White Paper able to distinguish between representative as denoting a principal-client relationship and representative as denoting a socially typical body?  Lord Chancellor Jack Straw has variously mixed the two, ignoring the fact that the two are not necessarily compatible.  An elected (representative) second chamber can work against producing a more socially typical (representative) chamber.

If it is merely a document concerned with the mechanics for producing an elected chamber, how consistent are the proposals?  I have already drawn attention to the potential conflict between the purpose of having a single, long-term of office with the proposal for recall petitions.

Of course, the leaks about the content of the White Paper could be misleading.  Maybe it is a work of deep philosophical reasoning.  We shall see.  Watch this space.