New Book, Shaping Migration between Europe and Latin America: New Perspectives and Challenges, and Upcoming Book Launch on 16 Nov. 2018

A new book, edited by Ana Margheritis, is out. This volume is the result of an international conference organised by Ana at University of London in 2015, featuring top specialists from both regions. The book is entitled Shaping Migration between Europe and Latin America: New Perspectives and Challenges and offers an interdisciplinary and timely examination of changing international migration patterns between Latin America and Europe. It focuses on two world regions historically linked by human mobility and cultural exchange but now responding to significant demographic changes and new migration trends. It examines strategies pursued by state and non-state actors to address the political and policy implications of mobility, and asks to what extent is cross-regional migration effectively managed today, and how could it be improved? Essays provide an integrated and comparative view of the links between the two regions and highlight the formal and informal interstices through which migration journeys are negotiated and shaped.

Publication details and table of context can be found here: https://www.sas.ac.uk/publication/shaping-migration-between-europe-and-latin-america-new-perspectives-and-challenges-0.

The next book launch will take place at ILAS, University of London on 16 November 2018 (Room G12, Ground Floor, Senate House, Malet Street, London WC1E 7HU).

State of democracy in Latin America

By Pia Riggirozzi, Professor of Global Politics at the University of Southampton

 

One of the striking features of Latin American democracy is that it is failing to connect representative institutions with citizens. There are clear indications of social polarisation and increasingly accepted practices of intolerance to dissent. According to Latin American Economic Outlook 2018 three out of four Latin Americans have a very low confidence in institutions and show little or no confidence in their national governments. Institutional mistrust is rising and risks deepening the disconnect between people and public institutions, undermining social cohesion and weakening the social contract.

According to a recent survey published by Intal/Latinbarometro, the most reliable institution in Latin America is the Church (65% confidence); followed in a comfortable second place by the Armed Forces, with 42% confidence; and the Police with 35%. Political parties ironically are the most disreputable institution (15% confidence). Even more disturbingly, asked about democracy as preferable to any other form of government, the level of support has dropped 8 poits from 2010 down to a slim majority of 53%. The percentage of those indifferent to political form grew from 16% to 25%. ‘Rule of law’ is not perceived as priority amongst the problems affecting social cohesion, although 80% think corruption is affecting the quality of democracy, a percentage that increased significantly since 2010. Finally only 18% of the respondents considered that the distribution of wealth is fair in their country.

Certainly, there can be little doubt but that the electoral compass in Latin America, and indeed in Western societies more broadly, is shifting to the Right at the time when the most central value of democracy, the tolerance of dissent, is subsiding.

For the past decade, as trust in institutions has declined around the globe, politics reveal a systematic and increasing deterioration, and in some cases de-consolidation, of democracies. Reconnecting public institutions and citizens is thus critical for a meaningful democracy able to serve as a step to greater inclusion and equality in society.

 

Democratic dissatisfaction and its manifestations

Since the UK referendum to exit (Brexit) the European Union (EU) in June 2016, and subsequent election of Donald Tump as President of the United States,   there was a plethora of questions related to the incentives and drawbacks of neoliberal democracy. Both events revitalised academic commentary on political disaffection, anti-politics alluding to a combination of citizen frustration with an insulated and arrogant ruling elite and insensitive political leadership and the failure of the political-economic project that seems to be cutting away, willfully and needlessly, at the welfare system and social contract that have hitherto guaranteed social peace in Western societies (see Jennings et al 2016; Payne 2014). As societies, both the UK and the USA manifested some deeply disturbing moral, emotional and human issues of ‘national’ identity preceding any responsibility towards ‘others’, be those legal immigrants that contribute to economic activity and social life, or those ill-fated, dispossessed, irregular immigrants and asylum seekers who are simply trying to survive.

Focusing on Latin America, one place to start would be the rich debate about whether ‘post-neoliberal’ political economy, as a democratic project, is possible. The political-economic crisis in Latin America in the early 2000s led to calls for an end to neoliberal rollback, a new social contract negotiated and managed by a more active state, and the construction of a social consensus that was both respectful of economic growth and sensitive to urgent needs to address the legacy of poverty, invest in education, and create welfare. Policy makers in Latin America were ‘shaken up’ by unsustainable levels of inequalities, not just income inequality but cross-cutting gender and ethnic inequalities, and the political consequences that stem from them. Experiences of uneven development, exclusion and social injustices underpinned unbearable social costs caused by decades of market-led development and austerity.

As we have shown in Grugel and Riggirozzi (2018) so-called ‘post-neoliberal experiments’ have combined a pragmatic attempt by Leftist governments to refocus the direction and the purpose of democracy through state spending, increased taxation and management of exports with a project of enhancing citizenship through a new politics of cultural recognition in Bolivia and Ecuador and attempts to recreate the state-sponsored pact between business and labour in Argentina and Brazil. The extent to which post-neoliberalism as a political project delivered on these pledges is disputed though there were real achievements, particularly in terms of anti-poverty programmes, and creating new opportunities for human rights and activism. Yet post-neoliberalism failed to articulate a convincing and institutionalised alternative to the neoliberal model of market democracy. While the Left pioneered the generation of new resources for redistribution through tax it also failed to shift away from dependence from natural resources and agro business. How far they had real opportunities to do so is a matter for discussion. But their failure to this regard is linked to the disenchantment many civil society groups experienced with the Left. High (perhaps too high) expectations were not met, and traditional power assemblages that link agro-industrial elites with international business networks and in many cases the military found grounds to demonise the Left and reclaim governance.

 

Democratic failure might fail democracy

Politically, perhaps, the greatest disappointment has not been so much the fact that social conflict and political disagreements continued and even expanded under the Left– that is natural in democracy – but the fact that democracy in turn has failed to tolerate dissent accentuating the well known winner-takes-all dynamic.

Out of these failures and disappointments, fuelled by the distrust in public institutions, politics seems to be less about the value and meaning of democracy and more about ‘fighting the bad guy’, as far right, military Brazilian presidential forerunner, Jair Bolsonary, put it. The danger is that what bad as representations of ‘others’ has taken the form of anyone who is perceived as ‘draining national (economic) resources’, being quilombolas (descendants of communities of runaway slaves), women, the poor, indigenous people, migrants, scroungers who choose to live on benefits. The backlash has not only led to the decline of social democratic representation but, more seriously, the (re-)emergence of discriminatory narratives that poisoned the political climate; intolerance to the otherness of the other is undermining the social foundations of democracy.

As politics shifts right-wards, we need, as scholars and as citizens, to continue to explore places and repertoires of popular contention that may, once again, hold governments to account and lead social resistance to any attempt at the re-introduction of austerity and onslaught on civic freedoms.

Back in the 1980s in the early years of democratisation in Latin America, political scientists such as Norbert Lechner and Adam Przeworski asked whether it is possible to reach a cross-party or inter-societal consensus over some measure of social and economic redistribution or, whether on the contrary, an entrenchment of socio-economic privilege is the price that must be paid in Latin America for liberal democracy. Today the question remains all too sadly pertinent.

 

The Challenge of Ocean Justice

By Chris Armstrong, Professor of Political Theory at the University of Southampton.

 

This month, I begin work on a British Academy / Leverhulme Senior Research Fellowship. The topic – Ocean Justice – could hardly be more timely. The world is increasingly coming to understand the many hugely important roles the ocean plays in sustaining life on earth. The ocean is, in many ways, the crucible of life in our world. Without an ocean, human life on our planet quite simply could not exist. Our world would be wholly inhospitable, for instance, were it not for the ocean’s role in cycling freshwater and oxygen, absorbing carbon from the atmosphere, and regulating global temperature. Billions rely on protein from the ocean’s fish, and fully 12% of the world’s population rely on fishing and aquaculture for their subsistence. And the signs suggest that as time goes by, we will rely more on the oceans, rather than less.

But we are also coming to understand the myriad challenges the ocean faces, which could impair its ability to support life on our planet. Key examples include plastic pollution, the acidification caused by a warming planet, overfishing, pollution arising from shipping, and the environmental damage caused by accelerating extraction of minerals and petrochemicals from the seabed.

Improved understanding of these threats has encouraged a sense of urgency at the international level. The United Nations has made the conservation and sustainable use of the oceans one of its Sustainable Development Goals. It has also commissioned the first ever World Ocean Assessment – drawing on the example of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change – and in 2017 it organised the world’s first global Ocean Conference.

Though this increased attention is to be warmly welcomed, there is a good deal of work to do. The oceans are protected by a patchwork legal framework which regulates some activities but not others, and gives different levels of protection to different ocean zones. The 1982 Convention on the Law of the Sea is justly called a ‘Constitution for the Oceans.’ But it is also clear that it is at best a work in progress, in need of urgent revision if it is to meet key challenges of the future. Key issues – such as fishing on the High Seas, the establishment of vital marine reserves outside of any state’s jurisdiction, and the fair use of ocean biodiversity – will be the topic of heated debate in the coming years.

The contribution of political theorists to debates on the future of the oceans have, to date, been rather modest. During the seventeenth century, notable political theorists – including Hugo and Grotius John Locke – engaged with questions about the governance of the world’s oceans. But they assumed a paradigm of plenty rather than precarity, and could not foresee many of the challenges the ocean has come to face. It remains to be demonstrated what political theory can contribute to conceptualising, and hopefully resolving, some of these major global challenges. What would just and legitimate governance of the world’s ocean look like? During the next twelve months I will attempt to make my own contribution to addressing these vital debates. But it is clear that the political theory community more broadly must also shift its attention oceanwards.

New Book, Narrative Policy Analysis: Cases in Decentred Policy

Editor R. A. W. Rhodes

The main aim of this book is to show how decentred analysis contributes to the study of public policy, both theoretically and practically. We seek to substantiate the claim that it offers novel theory and methods with a clear practical application. However, the book has two subsidiary purposes.

First, it displays research by the Centre for Political Ethnography at the University

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of Southampton. All the contributors are based at Southampton or they are colleagues at other universities who are working with us.

Second, the book is part of the ‘Understanding Governance’ series published by Springer-Macmillan. The first book came out in 1997 so this volume commemorates 20 years of publishing. We have published 25 books with 2 in the pipeline, and counting. There is no danger that any of the books will enter The Times bestseller list but we persist, and many an author is in print because we do. Here’s to our silver wedding anniversary.

Narratives or storytelling are a feature of the everyday life of all who

work in government. They tell each other stories about the origins, aims and effects of policies to make sense of their world. These stories form the collective memory of a government department; a retelling of yesterday to make sense of today. This book examine polices through the eyes of the practitioners, both top-down and bottom-up; it decentres policies and policymaking. To decentre is to unpack practices as the contingent beliefs and actions of individuals. Decentred analysis produces detailed studies of people’s beliefs and practices. It challenges the idea that inexorable or impersonal forces drive politics, focusing instead on the relevant meanings, the beliefs and preferences of the people involved.

This book presents ten case studies, covering penal policy, zero-carbon homes, parliamentary scrutiny, children’s rights, obesity, pension reform, public service reform, evidence-based policing, and local economic knowledge. It introduces a different angle of vision on the policy process; it looks at it through the eyes of individual actors, not institutions. In other words, it looks at policies from the other end of the telescope. It concludes there is much to learn from a decentred approach. It delivers edification because it offers a novel alliance of interpretive theory with an ethnographic toolkit to explore policy and policymaking from the bottom-up.

The book’s decentred approach provides an alternative to the dominant evidence–based policy nostrums of the day.

Introducing the new Centre for Political Ethnography

Ethnography reaches the parts of politics that other methods cannot reach. It captures the lived experience of politics; the everyday life of political elites and street level bureaucrats. It identifies what we fail to learn, and what we fail to understand, from other approaches. The Centre aims to rescue ethnography from its current void in political science and build the UK’s first centre for ethnographic research in politics and administration. It will be an interdisciplinary platform for colleagues nationally and internationally who are interested in ethnographic research in politics and administration. It will practice the ‘art of translation’ for multiple audiences.

The Centre for Political Ethnography

Venezuela’s health systems are crumbling – and harming women in particular

By Pia Riggirozzi, Professor of Global Politics at the University of Southampton

Venezuela sits on the world’s biggest oil reserves, but in terms of GDP growth per capita, it’s now South America’s poorest economy. It is mired the worst economic crisis in its history, with an inflation rate in the region of 500%, a volatile exchange rate, and crippling debts that have increased fivefold since 2006.

The economic crisis is inflaming a longstanding “economic war” between the government and the business sector – and a dangerous cycle of protest and repression is further polarising Venezuela’s already divided society.

In this scenario, violence of all sorts is approaching what could be a point of no return. The very ability of democracy to combine forces of transformation and resistance is at stake.

The crisis in Venezuela has also taken centre stage in regional organisations. The Union of South American Nations and the Organisation of American States are gravely concerned with the weakness of Venezuela’s democratic institutions, its culture of impunity, and the criminalisation of dissent. But they’re overlooking one of the biggest tragedies of the crisis: the crumbling of Venezuela’s health and welfare systems, which not long ago were beacons of hope. This collapse is truly dangerous and is affecting Venezuela’s women particularly badly.

Venezuela’s promise

For more than a decade, Venezuela was a focal point in the continental promise of a more direct and inclusive alternative to dominant marketised approaches to development and democracy. At the end of the 1990s, governments across South America began embarking on various “post-neoliberal” experiments – and for more than a decade, those experiments seemed to work.

Between 2000 and 2014, the region nearly halved the proportion of its people who lived in poverty, and the bottom 40% of its the population saw their incomes rise dramatically. In Venezuela, social, political and economic reforms between 1998 and 2012 helped cut poverty by a spectacular 50%, and extreme poverty by 65%.

Venezuela also became a regional health and welfare pioneer, greatly expanding the number of primary care physicians in the public sector and offering millions of poor citizens better access to healthcare than ever. Under a flagship programme titled Oil for Doctors, Venezuela subsidised oil exports to Cuba in exchange for deployments of Cuban medics and medical training programmes. The Barrio Adentro programme was set up to provide free basic medical care; Mission Miracle provides free eye care to people across the region, and other Venezuelan initiatives tackle the needs of people with disabilities across Central and South America.

But these remarkable projects all depended on revenue from Venezuela’s oil bonanza and accumulated reserves. Once the country was hit by an international oil industry downturn, the result was a string of shortages, outbreaks and widespread social deprivation – and a spiralling socio-political crisis.

Today, thousands of patients cannot receive essential medical treatments – and thousands more are on the waiting list to undergo vital surgery because doctors do not have the necessary resources. Likewise, diseases such as malaria and diphtheria – previously eliminated or controlled – are now on the rise, with disastrous results.

These assorted crises have implications for all Venezuelans, but women in particular. Their rights and choices are affected in distinctive ways, especially when it comes to reproductive rights, sexual health, and gender-based violence.

Women’s rights and dignity

Even before the economic collapse, Venezuela had one of the highest teenage pregnancy rates in the world. To tackle the problem, the socialist government rolled out entitlements to contraception – but the Venezuelan Pharmaceutical Federation estimates that since 2005, the country’s stocks of contraceptives have fallen by 90%. This is fuelling a rise of sexually transmitted diseases, particularly HIV, and more and more women are seeking out illegal abortions and even sterilisations.

According to Amnesty International, between 2015 and 2016 maternal mortality increased by 65% in Venezuela – wiping out recent advances and returning to the situation that prevailed 25 years ago. Among the main causes are the lack of medicines and basic medical tools and equipment, and the ever-falling number of medical personnel, many of whom are either emigrating or simply unable to work without equipment or pay.

Women find themselves in desperate situations and who fear dying in childbirth are fleeing to give birth in neighbouring Brazil and Colombia. According to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the overall number of arrivals in neighbouring states steadily increased to 5,000 a day as of early 2018. More than 56,000 Venezuelans crossed the borders in January alone – 40% of them were women.

The ConversationSo far, Venezuela’s South American neighbours and the regional multinational organisations have responded to the crisis principally as an economic and fundamentally a constitutional problem, justifiably worried as they are by the Maduro’s rapidly expanding authoritarianism. They have focused on isolating his government, condemning Venezuela’s farcical elections, recalling their ambassadors and even moving to suspend the country from organisations such as the Organisation of American States. But this is a humanitarian disaster, not just a democratic one. It’s time for other countries to step up and address the crisis’s disastrous effects on women, their rights, and their dignity.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Europe’s Russia Dilemma Is Older and Deeper Than It Seems

Kamil Zwolski, University of Southampton

The conflict in Ukraine effectively began between 6.30pm and 8.30pm on November 28 2013. This is when Ukraine’s then president, Viktor Yanukovych, confirmed that he was not going to sign an association agreement with the EU – a deal that the Russian government held in contempt. The result is well-known: mass pro-European protests in Ukraine, the ousting of Yanukovych, the annexation of Crimea by Russia, and the protracted war in eastern Ukraine. But why did this happen, and why did it unfold in the way it did?

People have been asking these questions since the Ukrainian conflict began. When Yanukovych made his decision, Herman Van Rompuy, then president of the European Council, reportedly vented his frustration: “You are acting shortsightedly. Ukraine has been negotiating [the EU Association Agreement] for seven years because it thought that it was advantageous. Why should that no longer be the case?” Despite the years of political upheaval, revolution and war that followed Yanukovych’s decision, no single clear answer is forthcoming.

For anyone interested in the future of Europe’s relationship with Russia, grappling with the question of why Ukraine changed course is a crucial part of understanding not just the roots of the Ukrainian conflict, but the deeper geopolitical dynamics that have played out in Central and Eastern Europe for centuries.

As always, in 2013, Russia was worried about the future of its influence in its “near abroad” – the term used in Russian political language to denote former Soviet republics. Towards the end of the year, Russia went out of its way to discourage Yanukovych from signing the agreement with the EU, even resorting to threats; Vladimir Putin’s representative, Ukrainian-born Sergey Glazyev, explained to Yanukovych that “the association agreement is suicide for Ukraine”.

The EU, meanwhile, faced a fiendish dilemma. The situation was neatly summarised by Alexander Kliment of the Eurasia Group during a 2015 House of Lords hearing on the future of EU-Russia relations: the question was whether it was “more important for the European Union to expand its political and economic influence in the former Eastern bloc countries” or “to have a functional, stable and growing relationship with Russia”.

In other words, the EU had two options: to stay as unified and assertive as possible while pressuring Russia to stop its arguably expansionist behaviour, or to accept that Russia was just “different” and try to influence its foreign policy by forging links where possible. And despite the events that followed in Ukraine, the EU has yet to make a choice.

As I argue in my recent book, European Security in Integration Theory, this dilemma has deep roots; in fact, it dates back at least to the period after World War I.

Friends and foes

In 1918, the severely weakened European powers had to face a new, potentially mortal threat in the east: Soviet Russia. As they tried to figure out how to safeguard European security in this new environment, they had two options almost identical to the ones Europe has today.

One idea is associated with the approach called European federalism; the other idea is associated with the approach called international functionalism. The ideas behind these two approaches are quite simple: whether the best way to face down an external threat is to unite Europe as closely as possible in opposition, or to engage the threatening power (namely Russia) openly, through forging functional links where possible – on trade, say, or culture – in hopes of changing its behaviour.

One of the most famous advocates of European federalism was Richard von Coudenhove-Kalergi, a Japanese-born Austrian aristocrat and politician. Between the two world wars, he promoted a close integration of European countries, just as the staunchest advocates of the EU’s “ever closer union” do today. What’s interesting is how he justified it. Writing in 1926, he painted a dark picture of a Europe under threat:

The world hegemony of Europe is overthrown for all time. Once feared, Europe is now pitied. From its dominating position, it has been thrown back upon the defensive. Threatened in a military way by a Russian invasion; threatened economically by American competition.

Today, calls for further European integration are often justified not in hopeful terms, but by references to the threatening “external environment”.

The current president of the European Council, Donald Tusk, has warned that “the challenges currently facing the European Union are more dangerous than ever before in the time since the signature of the Treaty of Rome” – and pointed out that whereas European countries can’t on their own do much to counter Russia and China, a properly united EU is “a partner equal to the largest powers”.

But today as in decades past, there are many who take the opposite view. Back in the 1930s, one alternative was advanced by the Romanian-born British thinker David Mitrany.

Mitrany argued that international relations should not be organised around regional integration blocs, but based on the functional idea of “binding together those interests which are common, where they are common, and to the extent to which they are common”.

According to this mindset, Europe would be better off engaging Russia on matters such as counterterrorism co-operation, hoping that the cumulative effect would make Russia more accountable and peaceful. One modern organisation taking this approach is the EU’s CBRN Centres of Excellence, a worldwide network of local experts and collaborating partners concerned with addressing chemical, biological radiological and nuclear risks. Also choosing the co-operative style are the specialised agencies of the United Nations, such as the International Labour Organisation.

The ConversationFor all that the last 100 years have transformed the continent, Europe is still in the same Russian bind. Its thinkers and politicians have spent nearly a century debating Russia’s proper place and different ways of co-operating with it. If the 21st-century’s European players re-examined these old arguments over the limits of integration with their eastern neighbour, they would be better equipped to deal with the problems they face today.

Kamil Zwolski, Associate Professor in International Politics, University of Southampton

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.