Category: News

IN ALL 50 STATES citizens may occasionally have a referendum put before them by their state legislature. But only 24 states are considered to have statewide direct democracy, defined as a process in which citizens themselves place initiatives or referendums on ballots. The differences are huge. Of the more than 2,000 statewide initiatives in American history, the overwhelming majority have taken place in just a handful of states, led by Oregon, California and Colorado. In those states, direct democracy is in effect a fourth branch of government. Elsewhere it plays a negligible or minor role. Legally and culturally, says Dane Waters, an expert, “California is a different animal altogether.”

Three states allow initiatives only to amend the state constitution, and one of these, Illinois, makes this so difficult that only one binding initiative has ever qualified. Another six allow initiatives only to enact statutes. Some allow unlimited time to gather signatures, others a few months. (California, with 150 days, gives circulators very little time.) States such as North Dakota, Montana and Ohio require few signatures to qualify an initiative; others, such as Wyoming, ask for lots.

Such nuances affect the way the process is used, even leaving aside the political culture. In California, a huge market with expensive media and with a short period to collect many signatures, money is crucial. In a small, homogeneous state that makes the process easy (Montana, say), signature-gathering might be done by old-fashioned volunteers.

Direct democracy is also on the rise globally, says Bruno Kaufmann, the Swedish-Swiss president of the Initiative and Referendum Institute Europe. Switzerland is still the gold standard. But countries from Uruguay to the Philippines and New Zealand have their own version, and places like Thailand, Brazil and South Korea are adopting or expanding theirs. The European Union has just introduced the first supranational initiative process, with very fancy electronic signature-gathering.

Referendums are often the main instrument. Those countries trying the initiative process, says Mr Kaufmann, usually aspire to the Swiss ideal of a “conversation” between voters and legislators, in which ballot measures are at best “screwdrivers” to tighten or loosen a bit here and there. The “antagonistic” Californian model, where initiatives are “hammers” to smash things, is one to avoid, he says.

ONE HUNDRED YEARS ago Hiram Johnson, one of the most consequential governors in California’s history, called a special election. Johnson was a leader of a movement called Progressivism that reacted to America’s industrialisation by demanding women’s suffrage, direct election of United States senators (originally chosen by state legislatures) and other expansions of democracy. In this Californian election voters had to decide on three new types of balloting: referendums, recalls and initiatives. They accepted them all with enthusiasm.

And thus, in October 1911, California adopted the three tools of modern direct democracy. It was not the first state to do so. South Dakota had adopted initiatives in 1898, and Utah, Oregon, Montana, Oklahoma and other states had begun mixing their own cocktails of direct democracy from the three ingredients. Referendums, in which voters approve or reject laws already passed by a legislature, were the least radical change. Recalls, in which voters remove elected representatives and even judges in mid-term, seemed more adventurous.

But initiatives (called “propositions” in California once they are listed on an actual ballot) had the most potential to turn politics upside down. They turn voters into legislators, since a successful initiative becomes statute. In states like California, initiatives can even turn voters into founding fathers who amend the state constitution. There are worlds of nuance in the detail. The package that California chose was especially powerful.

Californians thus explicitly chose a path that diverged from the one America’s founders had taken. To understand California’s problems today, you need to know what tradition California departed from. James Madison, Alexander Hamilton and their peers, as they met for the constitutional convention in Philadelphia in 1787, had deliberately rejected direct democracy. So why did Californians second-guess them?

Deeply versed in the classics, the founders had seen ancient Athens as the main historical example of direct democracy. In that city every male adult citizen voted in the assembly and there were no distinct executive or judicial branches. But this was also the Athens that condemned Socrates to death, rashly launched a disastrous pre-emptive war against Syracuse and barely survived repeated oligarchic coups before succumbing to undemocratic Macedonia.

Greek thinkers such as Aristotle and Polybius concluded that democracy was inherently unstable because it led to mob rule (in the same way that monarchy deteriorated into tyranny and aristocracy into oligarchy). Those three elements, monarchy, aristocracy and democracy, thus had to be balanced for a state to remain free, they argued. Rome (before the emperors) became the prime example of such a mixture. It was a republic, a “public thing”, but not a democracy, a thing “ruled by the people”. It had executives (in the shape of two annually elected consuls), an elite in the senate, and outlets for the vox populi in the popular assemblies.

To this Roman ideal of republicanism the thinkers of the Enlightenment added more liberal notions of freedom. John Locke injected a rather English emphasis on property and individualism. France’s Baron de Montesquieu, a huge influence on America’s founders, celebrated the commercial aspects of liberty. He also spelled out the separation of powers between the executive, legislative and judicial branches.

Against this intellectual backdrop, much of the famous debate that took place in 1787 and 1788, as the states had to ratify the proposed new constitution, was about how indirect America’s democracy should be. Both sides showed fealty to the historical ideal by writing under Roman pen names. Madison, Hamilton and John Jay, in the Federalist Papers, wrote as Publius, one of republican Rome’s first consuls. The Anti-Federalists opposing the constitution wrote as Brutus, the other consul, or as Cato.

The Anti-Federalists made a populist case for a direct democracy in which citizens participated actively, says Thomas Pangle, a professor at the University of Texas at Austin. The Federalists considered this view naive and dangerous. The society they envisioned was to be large, diverse and commercial. Madison, in particular, worried that a majority might oppress minorities, and that elected representatives might legislate out of “passion”.

Above all, Madison understood that a large and diverse nation would necessarily have many antagonistic “minority factions”, or special interests in today’s language. He wanted to contain these interests safely within a republican structure. Yes, they should have representation. But they should all compete against one another in the House of Representatives. The resulting laws would then be filtered through the Senate and the two other branches. As George Washington memorably told Thomas Jefferson, this was to “cool” House legislation as a saucer cools hot tea.

The Federalists won the debate, and America’s constitution (though much amended) remains the most durable in existence today. It balances not only minority factions, as well as populism and elitism, but also the federal and state governments. This is why, in the 19th century, Switzerland took an interest in it.

Switzerland after the Napoleonic wars faced a situation quite similar to America’s a generation earlier. Several independent states (cantons) needed to band together in a stable confederation that preserved both unity and diversity, and thus freedom. After a small but traumatic civil war between Protestant and Catholic cantons the Swiss decided in 1848 to import America’s constitution almost wholesale.

But Switzerland already had its own tradition of democracy. Starting in the 14th century, farmers in the Alpine valleys had formed assemblies not unlike those in ancient Athens in which all men made laws. They also sent delegates to co-ordinate policy (building a road, say) with farmers in other valleys. Such agreements had “to be carried back”, ad referendum in Latin, for approval in the assembly.

The Swiss grafted this tradition of direct democracy onto their American-style federal constitution. For the first time in history, initiatives and referendums thus became a regular part of national, as opposed to local, governance. But the details of this Swiss system were designed to serve its cultural and political purpose. As Corina Casanova, Switzerland’s federal chancellor, puts it, “we strive to solve conflicts through consensus and compromise.” Direct democracy aids, rather than hinders, that.

Any amendment to the Swiss constitution, for example, requires a referendum. But it also needs a simple majority of the cantons in the legislature. So just over half the cantons, which might represent a minority of Swiss voters, can overrule the majority in a referendum, thus addressing Madison’s worry about majoritarian tyranny. The proposed amendment then goes back to the legislature for redrafting—ie, for Washington’s “cooling”.

The same applies to initiatives. Citizens may launch one, but the legislature then has the option to draft a counter-proposal. Long before any voting, two or more drafts of legislation circulate, all trying to address the same problem. “In practical terms this means that behind the scenes, initiative committees and the authorities engage in a process of bargaining,” says Ms Casanova. “This leaves no room for extreme solutions, only well-balanced solutions backed by all.”

If the legislature presents a good alternative, sponsors may withdraw their initiatives, and many do. This drawn-out vetting process prevents conflicting initiatives as the various committees iron out legal and logical wrinkles. Much as Madison envisioned, the various special interests in Switzerland must eventually find common ground in what Ms Casanova calls an “institutionalised search for compromise”.

This was not, however, what attracted America’s Progressives to the Swiss model. John Randolph Haynes, a Californian doctor, founded a “direct-legislation league” after a trip to Switzerland. Nicknamed “Recall John”, he brought city-wide direct democracy to Los Angeles in 1903. He then joined William Rappard, a Swiss academic and diplomat who was teaching at Harvard at the time, and others, including Hiram Johnson, to extend the system to the whole state.

Unlike the Swiss, these Californian reformers had in mind a specific enemy, against which direct democracy seemed the ideal weapon. California was no Switzerland: much of it was still empty, geographically isolated and an institutional vacuum. Into this vacuum had stepped a private power: the railroad.

Blame it on the Southern Pacific Railroad

Founded in 1861 as the Central Pacific and later renamed the Southern Pacific, it was soon known as “the Octopus” because its tentacles corrupted every part of the state. The Southern Pacific bribed and cajoled legislators, judges, journalists and mayors. At one point one of its founders, Leland Stanford, was governor. He appointed a co-founder’s brother, who was also the railroad’s chief counsel, to the state’s Supreme Court.

As one reporter wrote in 1896, “it didn’t matter whether a man was a Republican or Democrat. The Southern Pacific Railroad controlled both parties, and he either had to stay out of the game altogether or play it with the railroad.” This was the corruption that enraged California’s Progressives. Hiram Johnson was especially livid. He had begun as a fisticuffs prosecutor in bribery and graft trials where he won the fame that launched him into politics.

From the start, Californian direct democracy thus had the opposite social purpose of its Swiss mother. As Ms Casanova says, the Californian system was designed to be “confrontational”. For example, it is quite difficult for petitioners to call a referendum, which merely passes judgment on a decision by elected representatives. But it is easy to launch an initiative, which circumvents the legislature by letting citizens make law.

California is also unique, in America and the world, in treating every successful initiative as irreversible (unless the initiative itself says otherwise). The legislature cannot change it. In effect, this makes initiatives a higher class of law. In California they often amend the constitution. And whereas Switzerland ensures that different initiatives are mutually compatible, California makes no such effort. A single ballot can contain directly contradictory initiatives, in which case the one with the most yes votes wins.

Direct democracy in California is thus an aberration. It has no safeguards against Madison’s tyranny of the majority. It recognises no saucer that might cool the passions of the people. Above all, it is not a system intended to contain minority factions. Instead, it encourages special interests to wage war by ballot measure until one lobby prevails and imposes its will on all. Madison and Hamilton would have been horrified.

But in 1911 none of this was yet clear. The system had the potential to be coercive, but its actual effect would depend on context and usage. Indeed, the number of ballot measures, once the novelty wore off, declined and stayed low as the Southern Pacific’s power faded naturally. For decades, immigrants populated the state, and most problems seemed to take care of themselves. But all this changed abruptly in 1978, with an unprecedented initiative that shapes the state to this day: Proposition 13.

IN 2004, while tossing chunks of meat to his pet Bengal tigers, Saif Qaddafi (then seen as the Libyan ruler’s reformist scion) outlined to a foreign visitor his plans to convert his father’s rambling theory of direct democracy into a real political system. Something on Swiss lines would be ideal.

The particular ambition may seem risible now. Yet the general sentiment is common. The Alpine federation’s political system, in which citizens may vote 30-plus times a year in a mixture of local and national polls, is proving seductive for politicians and voters of all stripes.

Some Swiss votes are ordered by politicians, yet many, known as “initiatives”, are binding votes on national legislation triggered by citizens’ petitions. In recent years these have widened state health-insurance to cover alternative medicine; enforced deportation of foreigners guilty of serious crimes and benefit fraud; and banned the building of mosques with minarets.

Helvetian zeal for direct votes skews global statistics. Nearly a quarter of all recorded national referendums have taken place there. Countries hold almost twice as many referendums as they did 50 years ago, says David Altman, a political scientist at the Catholic University of Chile. In the past 20 years more than 100 have introduced some sort of direct voting, says the Initiative and Referendum Institute Europe (IRI-E), a think-tank.

Politicians may be getting keener on public support for new laws. But few want to allow voters to write them: that would be not so much democracy, they say, as ochlocracy—mob rule. Compact and cohesive electorates, such as in a Swiss canton, are unusually good places for such votes to work: voters are more likely to ponder the issues fully beforehand, and to deal maturely with the result afterwards.

So only a few countries give voters Swiss-style rights to take their own proposals to the ballot box. Of all the citizen-initiated nationwide votes recorded since the 1980s, 90% have taken place in Switzerland and six other states: Italy, Liechtenstein, Uruguay, Lithuania, Latvia and Hungary. The regional picture is different, though. Though the United States is one of the few democracies never to have held a national referendum, Californians were asked to vote on 14 local issues last year. Since 1996 Japan has had several hundred local polls.

Pan-European votes are in the offing too. From April 1st 2012 the European Citizens’ Initiative (ECI) will allow petitioners in the European Union to propose legislation to the European Commission. Among the several criteria is finding 1m signatories (0.2% of the EU population) from a quarter of member countries. “Manifestly abusive, frivolous or vexatious” initiatives are excluded. Carsten Berg of Democracy International (a pressure group that campaigned for the ECI) notes that a successful petition does not trigger a public vote or even a parliamentary debate. It only obliges the Eurocrats to respond. Petitions already under way include a proposal to halt the introduction of genetically modified crops, and one that would bar Turkey from the EU for ever. Another wants shops to close on Sundays.

Laurence Modrego of Fleishman-Hillard, a Brussels consultancy, thinks the rise of internet voting is “game-changing”. Activists used to need lots of time and money to gather support across international borders. Now planned internet-petitioning schemes make it easier. They also reduce the role of paid signature-gatherers, who plague Californian democracy (see our special report in this issue). But Bruno Kaufmann, president of IRI-E, says e-voting is not a means to speed up the democratic process. It can take many years for Swiss initiatives to pass into law. That works better than in California.

Ballot blocks

The sunshine state’s experience certainly casts a cloud over the enthusiasm for direct democracy. Citizen initiatives there are blamed for fiscal ruin and incoherent, contradictory mandates. Fans of direct democracy argue that California’s woes stem from the practice, not the concept. Some say that flaws in representative forms of democracy make reform essential. Mr Kaufmann says that voters increasingly want to engage in politics “issue by issue”. Greenpeace, founded in 1971, has nearly 3m paying members. Over the same period, trust in political parties has shrivelled. In America “independents” now outnumber Republicans or Democrats.

Yet direct democracy does not always give power to the people. Sometimes, says Mr Altman, it can “give people to the powerful”. Referendums in democratic countries may now far outnumber the sham plebiscites beloved of autocratic rulers. Yet heavy-handed rulers continue to hijack the fashion for direct democracy to quell dissent or circumvent parliamentary limitations on their power. In November Andry Rajoelina, a 36-year-old former disc-jockey who took power in Madagascar after a military coup, called a plebiscite to approve a new constitution—and keep him in control. In 2009 Hugo Chávez, who says his goal is to rule Venezuela until at least 2030, used a popular vote to abolish the term limit on his presidency. Authoritarian rulers rarely lose such votes.

The genie of direct democracy is hard to rebottle when released, even if the results prove dysfunctional or perverse. Mr Altman says that once empowered to pass legislation, electorates rarely initiate votes that might limit their own power. In that respect, politicians and the people have much in common.

“A POPULAR GOVERNMENT without popular information or the means of acquiring it is but a prologue to Farce or Tragedy or perhaps both,” James Madison wrote. “A people who mean to be their own Governors must arm themselves with the power knowledge gives.” The question in any democracy, but especially a direct democracy in which citizens legislate at the ballot box, is how much voters do in fact know.

A prior question may be what voters think they know. When the Public Policy Institute of California (PPIC) polled Californian voters in December, just after the most recent election, fewer than half the respondents said that they had confidence in their fellow voters to make public-policy decisions at the ballot box. This was the first time in PPIC’s polling that a majority appeared sceptical about the initiative process. But voters seem to be more concerned only about the state of other voters’ knowledge, not their own.

This must be why most respondents to the same poll said they were either “very happy” or “somewhat happy” that they had nine measures to decide on this latest ballot. This response was similar to that in 2008 (12 measures) and 2006 (13). Many Californians believe that the initiative process needs major (42%) or minor changes (34%). But two-thirds of voters are generally “satisfied” with the way it is working.

This implies that voters are reasonably confident in their own understanding of the state’s affairs. Indeed, in another poll in January a majority of likely voters told PPIC that they have either “some” or “a lot of” knowledge about how state and local governments spend and raise money.

But when presented with a list of the state’s four biggest spending categories, only 22% of likely voters correctly named public schools as the largest. The most guesses (41%) went to prisons, which are actually the smallest category of the four. More specifically, the largest group among those who expressed confidence in their own knowledge incorrectly chose prisons as the biggest item.

Their grasp of state revenues was no better. Only one in three likely voters correctly named the personal income tax as the main source of money, with many choosing motoring charges (a paltry 2% of state revenues). Only 9% of likely voters correctly identified both the largest revenue source and the largest spending destination. As PPIC drily summarises, “most Californians’ views about the budget are not based on an understanding of where the money comes from and where it goes.”

Ask me about Proposition 13

This was a very general knowledge test, but individual ballot measures require much more detailed understanding. So a different survey, the Field Poll, on two occasions in recent years asked specifically about the most famous initiative of them all, Proposition 13. Since voters passed it in 1978, it has remained in the news constantly because it touches every aspect of state policy and finance. One of the most basic facts about Proposition 13 is that it applies the same tax cap to all property, whether residential or commercial. A recurring reform proposal would introduce a “split roll” so that commercial property can be taxed differently. Proposition 13’s defenders then hit the airwaves to denounce the proposal. In short, it is hard to miss the fact of equal treatment for all property. So the Field Poll asked what it considered the easiest question: whether Proposition 13’s tax reduction applied “only to residential property taxes, only to commercial property taxes, or both”. Only about one in three respondents correctly answered “both”.

However, the main surprise was hidden in the details. Political scientists normally assume that the older, more educated, wealthy and attentive voters are, the better informed they will be. But Kimberly Nalder, a professor at California State University in Sacramento, discovered that in this instance the opposite was true. The factors that usually indicate greater knowledge instead predicted “not only a lack of accurate understanding but actual misinformation”.

Thus Ms Nalder found that the best-educated (those with more than a master’s degree) were most likely to answer incorrectly that Proposition 13 applies only to residential property. Those with the least education (high-school dropouts) were most likely to get it right. Similarly, those who were already of voting age when Proposition 13 passed were most likely to answer incorrectly and the youngest correctly. The same pattern held for income, with wealthier respondents being more likely to be misinformed. Perhaps most intriguingly, the largest group among homeowners (who directly benefit from Proposition 13) were misinformed, whereas the largest group of renters (who do not benefit) answered correctly.

These results are puzzling and troubling. As Ms Nalder suggests, perception (as opposed to knowledge) of issues such as Proposition 13 appears to have more to do with “self-interest and a potential blindness to issues outside of one’s own experience” than with the content of the legislation. This would explain why those respondents who were “non-citizens” or “registered elsewhere” (probably recent arrivals) were more likely to give the correct answer than voters who are registered where they live.

It’s all too difficult

The longer that people live in California, it seems, the more likely they are to be misinformed, and possibly brainwashed into ignorance. The supporters of Proposition 13, says Mr Nalder, have for three decades framed the debate as the “little guy versus the established powers”, with images such as that of a grandmother being taxed out of her home. Homeowners who are happy with their low property taxes might therefore ignore the fact that large firms, trusts and hedge funds which own commercial property benefit just as much, because that would “disrupt that clean narrative”. They also ignore the fact that property taxes elsewhere are high.

In theory, the solution to this misinformation already exists. It is the official voter-information guide issued by the secretary of state before every election. It is genuinely impartial and thorough. But it is also daunting. Depending on the number of ballot measures, it can be a tome and the perfect way to spoil a weekend. Only one in three voters told the PPIC that it was the “most helpful” information source in their decision. (Moreover, they did not specify how much of it they had actually read.)

The rest said they relied on advertisements, the internet, media coverage and the like. What this mostly means is attack ads, financed by the opposing campaigns and their proxies. In the run-up to an election all of California turns into a shouting match, with union members (or environmentalists, or marijuana lovers, or whoever) taking to the roads and shoving signs (“Yes on 19!”, “No on 23!”) under windscreen wipers. At home the robocalls continue the onslaught. In such an atmosphere Ms Nalder’s findings about misinformation should not be all that surprising. For amid all this confrontation, there is virtually no deliberation and analysis.

Many voters are conscientious. They try to read the wording of the initiative, but find it forbidding. The language is dense legalese, often containing double or triple negatives. And the measures have inexorably been getting longer. In the 1980s each typically contained between 1,000 and 3,000 words, which seems more than long enough. But nowadays they often exceed 10,000 words apiece. Two measures on the 2006 ballot weighed in at more than 17,000 words (half as long again as this special report). And one ballot can contain a dozen of these.

So it is surprisingly common for a voter to cast a yes ballot when he means no, or vice versa. In one notorious example from 1980, the label on a measure was “rent control” (later changed to simply “rent”). It was in fact an initiative by landlords who wanted to get rid of rent control. A later study revealed that 23% of voters wanted to preserve control but mistakenly voted yes, and that 54% were against rent control but voted no. The initiative was thus lost when it should have been won.

Indeed, voters constantly complain that initiatives are too complicated. Two out of three told the PPIC poll in December that the wording of the initiatives was confusing. But over-complex language is only one worry in a process where every statute and constitutional amendment interacts with every other to shape policy in this huge state. It raises the more general question of how large, diverse and dispersed populations filter information and arrive at decisions. “If those most likely to think they have a grasp on political information are in fact wrong,” says Ms Nalder, there may be a need to “think twice about the wisdom of direct democracy”.

The elections of fall 2010 are over, and the new members of Congress have been in their seats since January. However, it still appears that there are openly hostile relations between various members of Congress and the two political parties as a whole. This comes at the expense of the great citizens of this fine country, who want and need to be more involved with the decision making of our nation, above and beyond merely voting for those who will make all of the decisions, which is very little power indeed.

We must remember that a function democracy, at least in the USA, must invite everyone to join in the process of domestic governmental decision making, and at least initially, will require a transition from a representative democracy to a direct democracy. This kind of governmental evolution would end, or at least substantially impeded, the bureaucratic paralysis and voter anger/apathy that has been present in our society for the past few decades.

High level politicians must remember that an elected and divided government whose members are constantly bickering amongst themselves, while ignoring the will of the people, cannot forever last.

Ray Gattavara

Auburn, Wash.

Everyone knows that foxes shouldn’t guard henhouses. Everyone, that is, except for the Florida Legislature. As the debate rages over the state’s next round of redistricting, the Legislature argues that it can be trusted to draw the new lines fairly. Even more brazenly, the Legislature insists that no one else — not even the people of Florida — can tell it how to go about its district-drawing business.

Some background: This past fall, Florida’s voters overwhelmingly approved two ballot initiatives aimed at stopping gerrymandering. Among other things, the measures bar politicians from trying to "favor or disfavor a political party or an incumbent" when they draw district lines. Not surprisingly, the Legislature hates the new rules. Its leaders tried all sorts of shenanigans to defeat the initiatives, and one of its chambers has now joined an audacious lawsuit claiming that the measures are somehow illegal.

The suit focuses on the Elections Clause of the Constitution, which states that "[t]he Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections . . . shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof." According to the Legislature, this language means that it, and only it, has the power to design Congressional districts. Any interference with its district-drawing authority — even a ballot measure endorsed by the people themselves — is unlawful.

This is a bad argument that, if accepted, would entrench gerrymanders across the country. Starting with the legal merits, the Supreme Court rejected a nearly identical challenge almost a hundred years ago. Back in 1915, Ohio’s general assembly passed a Congressional district plan that the public then voted down in a referendum. The assembly claimed that the referendum was invalid, because it limited the assembly’s power under the Elections Clause, but the Court unanimously disagreed. According to the Court, the provision merely authorizes the state political process as a whole to regulate elections. Since "the referendum constituted a part of the state Constitution," it could be used to nullify the assembly’s plan.

The same logic, of course, applies to the recent Florida initiatives. Ballot measures are explicitly sanctioned by the Florida Constitution, and they can therefore be used to create new rules for redistricting. The Elections Clause does not distinguish between traditional legislative action and policies enacted by other proper means.

Putting legal analysis aside, the awful practical consequences of the Legislature’s position are also worth noting. For one thing, if only state legislatures could draw district lines, then governors and courts would be barred from taking any part in redistricting. The separation of powers — under which governors can veto bills and courts can evaluate their validity — would be erased in the electoral arena.

Similarly, the redistricting commissions in use in thirteen states all would have to be scrapped. Commissions tend to produce fairer and more competitive district plans than state legislatures. But the assignment of significant influence to non-legislative bodies cannot be reconciled with the Legislature’s assertion of exclusive authority over elections.

Most insidiously, the Legislature’s position would make it impossible to improve redistricting via direct democracy. In most states, elected officials have little incentive to shake up the status quo, while courts are reluctant to get involved in political disputes. Measures placed directly on the ballot are thus the only way that the public can fight gerrymandering. But this crucial avenue for reform would be blocked if the Legislature has its way. The will of the people, as specifically expressed at the polls, would be just another unlawful infringement of the limitless legislative power.

The suit against the recent Florida initiatives, then, is deeply flawed as a matter of both law and policy. For this reason, it will likely fail, and the current round of redistricting will likely proceed under the new rules. But even if the suit is swiftly dismissed, it is still significant for what it says about the Legislature’s mindset. The Legislature seems so jealous of its prerogatives that it can’t abide their reduction even by the voters that elected it.

The whole point of the initiatives was to convey the public’s dislike of politics as usual in Tallahassee. Unfortunately, the Legislature seems not to have gotten the message.

An abridged version of this column recently appeared in the South Florida Sun-Sentinel.

The Cricket World Cup is over — the hangover from the defeat in the finals at Mumbai is still haunting us, but the winds blowing from across the Palk Strait on matters more serious cannot but demand the attention of this country.
The April 13 Tamil Nadu State Assembly elections are gripping the attention of our immediate northern neighbourhood, but more on that next week.

For now we refer to the sudden mass movement that sprang up in India, right across that vast sub-continent, immediately after their World Cup final, even before their politicians could jump on the bandwagon and steal the glory of that victory.
The spontaneous uprising through a satyagraha campaign led by an otherwise colourless Gandhian figure galvanized the whole nation fed-up with corruption in high places especially in Government, to demand real action to eradicate this spreading canker in Indian national life. They demanded a direct say in the running of Government, and had their say.

Clearly, the tumultuous middle class driven revolts in Northern Africa and the Arab world since February this year inspired this uproar in India. They were demanding ‘direct democracy’ or participatory democracy in drafting anti-graft legislation through a ‘Lokpal Bill’, on which the Congress Government has dragged its feet for more than seven years. They did not trust the Government or the elected representatives of the people anymore to bring about the required legislation because they had vested interests in protecting their clan. Lok pals will be established in each state and will be independent bodies that will hear public complaints of corruptions against political leaders.

The Government of Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, plagued with allegations of corruption, relented yesterday (Saturday) and issued a special Gazette notification appointing, in an unprecedented move, a member of civil society to be the co-chairman of the drafting committee of this anti-graft legislation along with a cabinet minister. (Please see Sunday Times -2 section cover story for more details.)

The PM himself has been above reproach but political analysts are already predicting his legacy to be that of one who shepherded the modernization of a sleepy giant of a nation first as its Finance Minister and then its Prime Minister, but was unable to combat the menace of corruption in high places including within his own government because he wanted to preserve his coalition at all cost.

The Indian Parliament has been brought to a standstill due to Opposition demands to investigate a huge telecom scam. The whole Indian body politic stinks with dubious characters who have wormed their way into Parliament or the Legislative Assemblies. Any parallel locally is not a co-incidence. The Indian PM has inherited these rascals and must work with them in the world’s largest democracy. He is a prisoner of the system which he cannot seem to break down in the same way he dismantled the country’s creaking socialist economic apparatus of yesteryear. The people of India have had enough of corruption, and they came out in their numbers this entire week making the Government in New Delhi succumb to this people’s movement.

These events across the seas must resonate in Sri Lanka, surely. It was this very week that a Cabinet Minister close to the President complained that the country’s construction industry was doomed to failure because of corruption. He cited examples of contractors bribing officials to get their shoddy plans and sites passed. What he did not say was how officials in government and municipal agencies need to be greased not only to break the law but act in order to protect others who break the law.

Soon after the Cabinet reshuffle following the Parliamentary elections of early last year, the new Health Minister referred to the reeking corruption in that sector, while the new Food Minister complained of the paddy mafia controlling the price of rice and so on until the President called a halt to the mud-slinging. That was a classic case of sweeping the dirt under the carpet and not spring cleaning the house.

In Parliament, in a rare instance, an Opposition MP brought up the valid issue of the high cost of building highways. He gave concrete examples but the Deputy Minister in reply could only offer evasive answers justifying the exorbitant expenditure of public funds on the repair of bridges and culverts. More dirt swept under the carpet.

The issue of extraordinarily high costs for the building of highways, a Government priority now, has been highlighted in Parliament by this solitary MP and the media, but the Government keeps ducking each time, in the belief that what the public doesn’t know about, does not happen.

Take the Chenkalady-Maha Oya road where nobody has taken the rap for what has happened. The admitted cost of making the four-kilometre road was Rs. 411 million. So much so that critics asked if it was paved with gold. It was reported just the other day that a part of this road simply got dislodged from a bridge, just like what happened to roads in Japan with the recent tsunami, except that there was no tsunami in Sri Lanka, just some suspicious hanky-panky.

The contractors began passing the buck on the reasons for bad workmanship while the politicians went into hiding and the Government maintained a deafening silence. The A-9 highway, the showpiece of the Government’s post-war reconstruction efforts in the Northern Province, is in shambles nearly a year after it was ‘repaired’ with millions pumped into it — or supposedly pumped into it. It remains a monument to bad governance and criminal wastage of public funds obtained through loans from international lending agencies and governments. Future generations will have to pay for this while the present generation digs still deeper into their wallets and purses to pay higher prices for gas, petrol and diesel.

The Government may well be complacent on the premise that such things don’t matter because it keeps winning elections. This argument could very easily extend to theory that the people are in fact, endorsing what is happening. One can only hope that the powers-that-be do not run away with such deceptive thoughts.

While openness is a concept in thriving democracies, there is tendency in sham democracies to prevent their citizens from knowing too much. That is why this week this Government turned down a request even for the media to cover the proceedings of parliamentary oversight committees that look into the spending of public funds. That is why the Government ignores the passing of the Right to Information Law that provides the ordinary citizen the right to find out how his or her money is being spent by those in the corridors of power. That is probably why bribery and corruption are on official leave with the Commission dealing with the subject without a mandate to operate.

With the Opposition still trying to put its house in order and the Emergency extended on the spurious grounds that rehabilitated LTTE cadres might return to battle, the Government will want to keep sweeping its dirt under the carpet as long as it can rather than clear it. But winds of change are blowing across the world and young people are increasingly dissatisfied with what they continue to see. They want ‘direct action’ in good governance; they are sick and tired of their representatives in Parliament and other elected bodies. They want participatory democracy now and no longer representative democracy. There are lessons to be learnt from what is happening around the world.

Perhaps ever since the ”JP Movement” of the 1970s, India had not seen a people’s upsurge in support of a cause, espoused by an individual, largely unknown across the country.
Gandhian Anna Hazare’s demand for a Jan Lokpal Bill elicited a surprisingly huge response as never before in the last three decades, thanks to its motto of action against corruption.

The response no doubt took the UPA government by surprise. Coming as it did soon after a plethora of scams and mishandling of various issues that caused a dent in its image, the Congress-led government had not really bargained for yet another test of nerves, certainly not just before facing key elections in four states and one Union Territory. The government finally gave in, conceding the demands of the Hazare-led popular movement.

Having an ombudsman would give opportunity to the common man to expose corruption in high places. What came out of the mass movement that took shape largely due to the support of the media and social networking sites, was something no one thought possible just a week ago. In an unprecedented move, the government accepted the demand for setting up of a joint committee to draft the Lokpal Bill.

Interestingly, in a bid to move away from the unending scandals taking a toll on its image, it was the UPA government which decided in 2010 to bring in the Lokpal Bill. In December, 2010 anti-corruption crusader Hazare pressed for expediting it. Hazare was opposed to the Bill drafted by the government and so, along with like-minded activists, brought forth an alternative ‘Jan Lokpal Bill’, which many say, threatens the very fabric of democratic process.

The joint panel will now take up the Lokpal Bill – the draft prepared by the government – and examine it clause by clause and look into the suggestions made by different organisations – including those by Hazare and others – and individuals and jurists.

Did the government take the right step by issuing a gazette notification to this effect and by constituting a joint committee vesting executive powers in non-officials? Several have expressed concern that this may set a precedent for pressure groups every now and then to force the government into submission.

“The Jat agitation leaders may demand it shortly”, said one. According to former Karnataka information minister B K Chandrashekar, “I am all for Lokpal Bill having teeth, that it should have power to investigate and prosecute. However, I am concerned over the issuing of notification as any mass-based organisation in future may pressurise the government to do the same”.

Many within the UPA government wonder whether the overarching powers that the Lokpal is most likely to be empowered with will make it a parallel or “super government”. It will be all-pervasive as it may cover politicos right from the prime minister, besides the chief justice of India and the bureaucrats. While doing so, the Central Vigilance Commission, which has jurisdiction over the government officials and the anti-corruption wing of the CBI may be merged in Lokpal.

There are some controversial provisions that the Hazare camp has proposed. The selection of the Lokpal almost completely bypasses the democratically elected government, as it consists of Magsaysay and Bharat Ratna winners, vests it with police and judicial powers, powers to initiate suo motu investigations and receive complaints directly from the public, provides for recovery of the misappropriated money which will go to a fund, provides for Lokpal to file FIR and investigate cases.

Political parties are not happy over the Jan Lokpal move. Terming the Hazare tactics as fascist, Samajwadi Party spokesperson Mohan Singh questioned the “moral and constitutional propriety of self-selected individuals” to “impose their version” on the nation. Rashtriya Janata Dal vice-president Raghuvansh Prasad Singh criticised Hazare for “dictating” terms to the government. “The fight against corruption is good but the tactics are absolutely wrong”, Mohan Singh said. Said a former minister: “If you accept the Jan Lokpal Bill, then the institution will have powers that combine the Legislature, the Judiciary and the Administration. Jan Lokpal can frame policy, investigate and prosecute, and sit in judgment”.

Direct democracy not far off

However, Senior Advocate K K Venugopal argued that the government-proposed Lokpal Bill – giving only advisory powers to the ombudsman – would not serve the purpose as it vests the control of prosecution in the political wing of the state. “Since the main purpose is to bring about accountability among the ministers, MPs and bureaucrats, the Bill as it is, is wholly ineffective. There should be direct access for complainants to the Lokpal with the provision for dropping frivolous complaints.

It should be able to file for prosecution through its investigating officers directly in the criminal courts. If all these measures are not there, the Bill is without teeth. I am afraid it will be back to square one even if the Bill is passed”.

According to Supreme Court advocate Mohan Kataraki, the Hazare demand and overwhelming support from the public for formation of a people’s committee to draft the Bill may be a beginning of the end of representative democracy. “Constitutional reforms for direct democracy cannot be resisted for long in the age of IT where people are eager to vote directly and make laws to govern their destiny”.

The civil society activists are not entirely united on the alternative Bill. Activists like Aruna Roy and Harsh Mander, both members of the Sonia Gandhi-led National Advisory Council, are not comfortable about bypassing democratic institutions. “Bypassing democratic processes for political expediency, however desirable the outcome, may be detrimental to democracy itself“, Roy said.

NAC member Harsh Mander said, "Corruption is a complex issue. But they want Jan Lokpal to be the investigator, prosecutor and judge together, that’s highly dangerous. We cannot create a frankenstein in its place."Both also want Lokpal to be transparent and have a robust grievance redressal system.

Still, what Hazare exhibited over the last five days was awe-inspiring. It showed that Indians, especially in urban areas where voting is dismally low, will come out of their houses to take part in mass movements. The signal contribution of the `aam janata’ has been to bring to the centre stage the issue of action against corruption.

Re: Federal election

We have the right, every so often, to elect a dictator of our choice in Canada. Yet we call this democracy. Isn’t it time for direct democracy?

At one time it was impossible for all citizens of this, the best country in the world, to gather each day and decide issues that affected the entire country. So we elected politicians to represent us to the government. This is called representative democracy. How is this working for you?

Today, through the Internet, we can gather to make those decisions. Even the most poor among us could, if they chose, go to a public library for free Internet access. We don’t need MPs, MPPs and city councils to decide things for us. If you truly believe in democracy (which is the rule of the majority) you will have to agree with me that direct democracy is the answer. The alternative is to continue having people we don’t even know, and who we didn’t even vote for, “represent” us in Ottawa.

Someone mentioned to me once that this would be the end of the secret ballot, and they were worried that everyone would know how we vote. I agree this would be the end of secrecy. The reason for the secret ballot in the first place is so the person elected to “represent” you doesn’t know who you voted for. This would hopefully keep that person from deciding not to help you when you need assistance from your “representative.” In direct democracy, you don’t have to keep your vote secret to protect yourself, as you no longer have a representative to deal with.

I can see pitfalls regarding direct democracy, but surely they all can be overcome if there are proper checks and balances in place to ensure that the will of the people actually is respected. Again, the alternative is that we continue to elect dictators of our choice. Which do you prefer?

It feels much better getting this off of my chest. I hope I don’t get arrested for my subversive words, though. Who among you thinks politicians will give up their perks without some kind of fight?

The elections of fall 2010 are over, and the new members of Congress have

been in their seats since January. However, it still appears that there are openly hostile relations between various members of Congress and the two political parties as a whole. This comes at the expense of the great citizens of this fine country who want and need to be more involved with the decision making of our nation. This is above and beyond merely voting for those who will make all of the decisions, which Is very little power Indeed.

We must remember that a functional democracy, at least in the USA, must invite everyone to join In the process of domestic governmental decision making. At least initially, this will require a transition from a representative democracy to a direct democracy. This kind of governmental evolution would end, or at least substantially impede, the bureaucratic paralysis and voter anger/apathy that has been present in our society for the past few decades.

High level politicians must remember that an elected and divided government whose members are constantly bickering amongst themselves, while ignoring the will of the people, cannot forever last.

Ray Gattavara

Auburn, Wash.