Argentina’s Foreign Policy: In the Path to Change?

By Dr. Ana Margheritis, Reader in International Relations at University of Southampton (Twitter, Academia.edu). You can find more posts by Ana here.


Next 1st December, Argentina is going to take over the presidency of the G-20. In late 2018, it will host the summit of the International Trade Organization. The Macri administration argues that this role is an ‘acknowledgment to the change’ the country is undergoing. How much changed has happened since Mauricio Macri took office in December 2015? The recent mid-term elections (on 22 October 2017) offer an opportunity to assess the records.

cumbre-del-g-20-2263999w620.jpgIn an effort to highlight contrasts with the predecessor and expand its base of support, change has been the key slogan of the coalition in government called, indeed, Cambiemos (let’s change). In foreign policy, two ideas summarised this proposal: ‘re-joining the international community’ (volver al mundo) and adopting pragmatism (des-ideologizar). In other words, Argentina now attempts to resume its historical goals, principles and roles, open and integrate itself to the world, and pursue what officials call an ‘intelligent’ and ‘mature’ positioning in world affairs. The underlying goal is to re-establish other countries’ confidence, presumably lost in the past decade due to a confrontational rhetoric and conflictive actions mostly inspired by economic and political nationalism.

Two years down the road, there are some signs of changes, although these are still a work in progress. First, efforts to mend relations with the US led to establishing a good rapport at the presidential level during the Obama administration. This continues under Trump’s term as trade negotiations progressed and changes in Argentina’s policy orientation and discourse are welcome in Washington.

Second, expanding and diversifying partnerships follows from an aggressive trade and investment strategy. These include reviving MERCOSUR (the regional trade bloc of which Argentina is founding member), pursuing trade agreements with the European Union, and joining as observer the Alliance of the Pacific in June last year (another regional organization formed by Mexico, Peru, Colombia and Chile). This last move is consistent with increasing economic links with China and Asia more broadly –where four of the ten main destinations of Argentina’s exports are (i.e., China, Vietnam, India and Indonesia, in that order). In other regions of the world, redefining relations has proved to be more controversial at the domestic level: the agreement with Iran (signed during the previous administration) has been declared non-constitutional. The President accepted this judicial decision and did not use his veto power in this case. Iranians have been linked to the 1990s terrorist attacks to Israeli institutions in Buenos Aires. Former president Cristina de Kirchner and other high officials were to be prosecuted when a federal judge died the day before presenting the evidence. Both legal cases are still open in the context of increasing efforts of the Judicial power to re-gain autonomy and enhance transparency.

Third, relations with regional partners deserved special attention in the last two years because of the ongoing crisis in Venezuela. In clear contrast with the Kirchners’ alliance with Chavez and Maduro, Macri forcefully requested the liberation of political prisoners, denounced violations to human rights, and was in favour of not allowing Venezuela to take over the pro-tempore presidency in July 2016. He was keen on ‘passing from rhetoric to action’ and even applying the Organization of American States’ Democratic Clause. This position finally prevailed within the bloc: on 5th August 2017 MERCOSUR finally applied the 1998 Ushuaia’s Protocol, suspending rights and obligations of Venezuela as member state for indefinite time (i.e., ‘until the democratic order is restored’).

Fourth, the bilateral relationship with the UK also shows some signs of change. Aware of the constrains posed by the long-standing dispute over the Malvinas/Falklands Islands, Argentina argued that this item should not be the focus of the relationship as it represents, at most, a figurative 20% of the links with the UK; instead, Macri’s government proposed to concentrate efforts on the remaining 80% which promises mutual benefits. This new approach led to a joint declaration in early 2016 and some progress afterwards. One of the goals in that document was achieved: clarifying the identity of Argentine soldiers who died during the war and were buried in the islands. The other two are still pending: resuming flights to/from the islands and ending sanctions to economic activities by islanders. Political, diplomatic and cultural relations improved and intensified in the last two years, in the spirit of ‘construction of empathy,’ as the British Ambassador to Buenos Aires called it, that is, setting a positive, mutually beneficial and long-term bilateral agenda.

These incipient changes are not exempt of pitfalls and criticisms. The 20/80 figure used to represent relations with the UK is questioned by the opposition, which also charges the government with a lukewarm approach in the defense of sovereign claims at international forums and an ambiguous approach to the case of Venezuela. Trade partnerships also represent a source of concern because of Argentina’s trade deficit and specialization in commodities. This is more of a continuity than a change between the current and the past administrations, and a pending issue in the governmental agenda. Another sign of continuity is to be found in the management of this area of public policy: as usual, presidential diplomacy is at the driver’s seat of most initiatives in foreign policy. Signs of dissent within the Cabinet (as the ones recorded between Macri and his former minister of Foreign Affairs over the issue of Venezuela) are seen as detrimental to the overall strategy. The replacement of Susana Malcorra by Jorge Faurie in that post (last June) was presented, in the official discourse, as a sign of ‘continuity and trust,’ presumably meaning that, from now on, no fundamental changes and disagreements in foreign policymaking are to be expected.

In sum, foreign policy might not have been a top consideration for voters in the recent mid-term elections, but it certainly contributed to construct a narrative about the identity of the coalition in power and to suggest a path to the future, a projection of national interests in a certain direction that seeks social support. Macri won the recent elections, defeating the dominant political force (Peronism, in its multiple forms). However, a narrative based on contrasts with the predecessor inevitable has limits in the long-run. Interest groups and society at large are eager to see, for instance, if Argentina has the capacity to resume steady economic growth, capture foreign investments, or play a leadership role at the regional level. In other words, the challenge is now to show if slogans translate into concrete changes at both the domestic and international level.

Despite Trump, the United States Is Probably More Socially Liberal Than Ever

By Justin Murphy (@jmrphy), Lecturer in the Department of Politics and International Relations at the University of Southampton.


There is a lot of confusion about whether we’re seeing significant ideological change in the United States. With Trump and the re-appearance of white nationalism in the public spotlight, many people are wondering if conservative (right-wing) ideology is on the rise. One can find many influential outlets endorsing this notion. CBSBBCVox, and certainly others have all run articles suggesting this. On the other hand, many conservatives believe that “liberal” (left-wing in America) ideology is on the rise. There are good reasons for people to be confused, because the dynamics of ideology in the United States are confusing. To help clear up some of the confusion, I’ve written this guide to some of the basics of what political scientists know about the long-term historical dynamics of ideology in the United States. And how they shed light on what is happening, or not happening, right now.

If there is one substantial ideological shift in American public opinion in the post-war period, it is the dramatic and near-universal increase in social liberalism since the 1950s. There has not been a general shift to the left or right because economic conservatism has not changed much (although it has polarized on the left and right). There has been some cyclical, “thermostatic” movement in opinion (which is normal). There have been changes in symbolism (“liberalism” became stigmatized in the 1960s). And there have been some dramatic shifts in party identification (a pretty massive Republican resurgence with Reagan). Otherwise, one cannot say the American public has moved to the right or left as a whole, in any significant way, in the long-run or recently, except that it has become more socially liberal. There have been some interesting and substantial ideological shifts within groups, but that would need to be another post.

Racial Liberalism Data from Atkinson et al. (2011)
Racial Liberalism data from Atkinson et al. (2011) 

There is currently no good evidence I am aware of that overt racism or white nationalism is growing.1 It likely appears larger than it is, especially to progressives, precisely because it has never been less common in American history. This says nothing about how such stupid and malicious groups should be dealt with.

This is my interpretation based on what we know about long-term ideological dynamics in the United States. For a more detailed tour of that data, see the post on my personal blog, “Are Americans becoming more conservative or liberal (right or left)?”

 


  1. The only exception I have found is the data on the number of “hate groups” collected by the Southern Poverty Law Center, which reveals an upward climb since 1999. I am not going to say it’s wrong in a dismissive footnote, because it would deserve more attention than that. But I am excluding it from consideration here for a few reasons. First, it includes a wide variety of groups well beyond explicitly racist or white nationalist groups, including black separatist groups. So in this sense it does not reflect what I am considering in this post. But also the SPLC has come under fire for being increasingly politicized and untrustworthy as a data source. See this article from Politico, for instance. My personal view is that there has been a tendency in recent years for progressive groups to lower their bar for what counts as a hate group, and at least a few cases on the SPLC’s list suggest to me this has occurred there, at least to some degree.

The strange case of unpopular populism: Labour and Jeremy Corbyn

By Gerry Stoker. Gerry Stoker is Professor of Governance at University of Southampton and Centenary Professor of Governance at the University of Canberra (Twitter).


Populism encapsulates the spirit of our times, we are told. So how has Labour under the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn managed to discover an unpopular version of populism? In the discussion that follows, I argue that Labour’s election campaign has adopted many of the defining features of populism without winning a lot of support. What lies behind this seeming paradox?

The standard formula of populists is to position their movement of ‘the people’ against the corrupt ruling elite or establishment. Labour’s campaign emphasises that it is on the side of the millions rather than the millionaires. In his first speech of the campaign Jeremy Corbyn set a clear populist tone:

Much of the media and establishment are saying this election is a foregone conclusion. They think there are rules in politics, which if you don’t follow by doffing your cap to powerful people, accepting that things can’t really change, then you can’t win. They say I don’t play by the rules – their rules. We can’t win, they say, because we don’t play their game. They’re quite right, I don’t. And a Labour Government elected on June 8 won’t play by their rules…Of course those people don’t want us to win. Because when we win, it’s the people, not the powerful, who win”.

Labour’s manifesto is also populist in its main messages. There are proposals to spend more on education, health, social care, housing and so on with a clear indication that someone else – the rich and big business – will pay for it through extra taxes. There are commitments to renationalise core utilities notably where there are popular grievances against their performance. The essential claim is that the economy has been rigged for the rich and now it is time for change. As Corbyn puts it:

Don’t wake on up on 9 June to see celebrations from the tax cheats, the press barons, the greedy bankers, Philip Green, the Southern Rail directors and crooked financiers that take our wealth, who have got away with it because the party they own, the Conservative Party, has won”.

So, is the call to support Corbyn fighting for the many against a rigged system winning hearts and minds? Marginally, would appear to be the summary judgement. Labour has gained some support and may do better than some pundits predict. But with the collapse of UKIP support the Conservatives enjoy double figure leads over Labour in the polls – some as high as 20%. Bottom line, they are going to win the election easily. On the issues most important to voters, it appears that PM May is more trusted to deliver than Corbyn. There we have it: the odd spectacle of an unpopular populist. Why?

Is it that the media is blocking Corbyn from getting his message out? There can be little doubt that the Labour leader has little editorial support among the print media. But as his own supporters have been keen to assert this is a people’s movement using social media to spread its message. Moreover, the regulation of election coverage means that mainstream television and radio outlets have to give fair access to all candidates. There does appear to be plenty of interest in politics and in Corbyn as a candidate for PM. It seems unlikely that its media coverage that is distorting or blocking the message sufficiently to explain the lack of popular uptake.

Is it that divisions within the Labour Party means that Corbyn’s position is undermined? That Corbyn does not have support of most Labour MPs is evident but from the perspective of a popular movement it is the recruitment of activists and grassroots supporters that should provide the real momentum. Corbyn-supporting groups in the party have been vocal about their presence. The manifesto adopted by Labour and the campaign and its content all appear to be in the hands of Corbyn and his supporters. Not having the support of the New Labour establishment – and figures such as Tony Blair – could be seen as a plus for a populist, so it’s unlikely that it is divisions within the party that are undermining the cause with the public.

Another explanation might be that Corbyn’s Labour offers faux populism. Labour can afford to be radical and promise a lot because its knows it’s not going to have to deliver. The aim is to shore up support for the Corbynista project when it comes to the post-election aftermath of a Labour loss. This is cult politics rather than populist politics with the aim of creating a narrative of a heroic leader offering radical solutions, deserving another chance. That argument goes against the grain of the genuine belief that things can be turned around in Election 2017 among many Corbyn supporters and the fact the  message remains strongly populist whether or not  some in the Corbyn leadership see it in more strategic terms.

The solution to the paradox of an unpopular populism is more likely to rest on the finding that rules do apply in politics, even if Corbyn claims they do not. First even for a populist competence – or the perception of competence in the case of Donald Trump – matters. People have to believe you have the skill and will to deliver. Corbyn and his team appear to be both gaff-prone and lacking in any serious ideas about how to run anything. It may be that Corbyn sees himself as offering a form of facilitative or non-hierarchical leadership – I am here to empower others – but most of the public appear to judge him as a leader at worst as useless and at best as a dreamer. Theresa May has a net satisfaction score for her leadership of +19, while Jeremy Corbyn has score of –35.

The implication of the above explanation might be: do the same populist thing next time but with a leader with a wider appeal. However, it may be that it is also difficult to do populism within the confines of an established political party, such as Labour. The Labour Party in many parts of Britain was the party of power and in power, so it is difficult to project it as the new outsider. You might say that Donald Trump won the presidency but he did so by keeping a large part of the Republican Party’s core vote with targeted policies and using populist tactics and messaging to attract other voters, a strategy made slightly easier by the degree of polarisation that has developed in US politics over the last two decades. If being an established party is a constraint of the degree of populist stance that can work, then we are back to another old rule of politics. Parties win, including Labour, when given the UK electoral system they provide their core vote with something to support but reach out to others and in a way that shows they can make sensible compromises to deliver. The solution for a mainstream party then is not to offer populism as a cure to all ills, but rather to attempt to offer a realistic narrative about how to change the country for the better.

Why Politics Still Matters

By Gerry Stoker. Gerry Stoker is Professor of Governance at University of Southampton (Twitter). You can read more posts by him here.


 

One of UK comedian Bob Monkhouse’s better jokes goes something like this: ‘People laughed at me when I said I wanted to be a comedian; they are not laughing now’. When I published the first edition of Why Politics Matters in 2006- which looked at rising negativity towards democratic politics- there was polite interest at presentations made to politicians and journalists but a sense that my concerns were not exactly the pressing issue of the day. As I publish the second edition for 2017 negativity about the practice of politics is a major news item and anti-politics and post truth politics are terms that have entered everyday debate.

Some politicians are taking advantage of the mood of anti-politics by offering populist stances on issues and by distancing themselves very clearly from something called the ‘political establishment’. The top nominations for 2016 might well have been Donald Trump in the United States and Boris Johnson in Britain, leading the Leave campaign in the EU membership referendum. Other politicians offer convoluted apologies to public audiences for being a politician. Isobel Harding, a journalist at a meeting I was chairing in 2016, argued that she would throw up if she heard another politician explain how they only took up the job ‘by accident’. They were an engineer or doctor – or some other occupation deemed socially acceptable – turned up at some political event and then, seemingly through forces outside their control, found themselves as a candidate for election and then eventually an elected representative.

If politicians fear they are social pariahs as a group, then most citizens would not try to persuade them that the situation is otherwise. In 2011–12, we asked some people in focus groups to indicate what words they associated with politics. The eight most popular grouping covered: deception, corruption, feather-nesting, self-serving, politicking, privileged, boring and incomprehensible. Not a terribly positive list, I think you would agree. We know that millions around the world like the idea of democratic governance in the abstract but struggle to be convinced by the politics essential to its delivery. Why Politics Matters tries to understand this contradiction and, because politics matters, it asks what, if anything, we could do to make it work better.

While the problems and solutions to the current malaise of democratic politics will vary from country to country, I believe that my focus on common features and key comparisons provides a good starting point for discussion of where we are, and what needs to be done. The negative response to politics that many of us share is, I think, a very human reaction to the way politics works. As an intricate mechanism in our multifaceted and complex societies, politics exists because we do not agree with one another. Politics is about choosing between competing interests and views often demanding incompatible allocations of limited resources. Crucially, because it is a collective form of decision making, once a choice has been made then that choice has to be imposed on us all. In the context of greater individualism and a determination to make your own choices the mechanics and institutions of politics can appear out of touch. Yet although social media may be changing the technological expression of politics but it does not mean the fundamental nature of politics has changed. It’s still about making and then imposing collective decisions.

Perhaps there is something in addition about the way that politics is done today that moves citizens from being slightly irked by politics to outright annoyed People don’t like to be taken for a sucker or treated like an idiot. Politics as experienced daily often seems calculated to do exactly that. When politicians debate issues in simplistic terms, when they imply that we can have it all at no cost and appear to manufacture arguments they think will play well to different groups, it is hardly surprising that we think they are taking us for a ride. Nor is it odd that cynicism becomes a common coping response. My book does not berate citizens for not engaging in politics but tries to understand why they often don’t but also how they might be persuaded to do so more. You can’t have democracy without politics. In this light, it’s clear that we need to change some of the practices of politics.

The Second Edition brings into play new research conducted with colleagues over the last decade.  It offers a more comprehensive portrait of rise of political disenchantment in different countries. It provides a fuller and better organised account of many of the competing explanations of that rise in anti-politics. It is updated to deal with the rise of social media, changes in party politics and the rise of populism. Finally, it offers a more extensive discussion of some of the democratic innovations that are being trialled to bring new life to politics.

In truth, the book ends on a slightly more pessimistic note than the First Edition. The Trump campaign and the EU referendum in 2016 seems to have established a new low in politics which is pulling many other actors towards it in a cycle of misinformation, dishonesty, and fear mongering. However, a favourite saying is: ‘a week is a long time in politics’. Perhaps if I ever get round to a third edition I will have something more positive to report. There are many people out there who care about creating a better politics. If my book gives them any ammunition in their battles I will be a happy author.

Gerry Stoker Why Politics Matters Second Edition is available from Palgrave https://he.palgrave.com/page/detail/Why-Politics-Matters/?K=9780230360662

 

 

Zika and the political battle of rights

By Pia Riggirozzi, Associate Professor in Global Politics at the University of Southampton (@PRiggirozziAcademia.edu). You can find more posts by Pia here.


 

In recent years there has been growing global awareness of the interplay between rights and social development. In 1997, in an attempt to mainstream human rights as a central feature of all UN programmes, the UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan, called for a reorientation of the UN’s mission to reflect the realisation of human rights as the ultimate goal of the UN (UNDP 2005). Within this approach, the UNDP declared that human rights should not be regarded as the outcome of development but should rather be seen as the critical means to achieving it. With the signature of the Millennium Declaration and more recently the Sustainable Development Goals (SDG) there has been a renewed focus on the links between global poverty and human rights in development. As a consequence, protecting and promoting rights, and creating opportunities for individuals and groups to access, enjoy and reproduce those rights have increasingly been furthered in transnational campaigns promoting broader civil liberties, the ‘right to development’ (Grugel and Piper 2009) and ‘human right to health’ (Oslo Declaration).

However, as Easterly (2009) argues ‘which rights are realised is a political battle’ contingent on a political and economic reality often determined by what is considered (national and internationally) visible and urgent. The response to the outbreak of the Zika in South and Central America is manifestation of that battle.

Zika and systemic injustices

In February 2016, South America became, for the first time, the epicentre of a Public Health Emergency of International Importance when the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared that the Zika virus and its link to neurological disorders deserved global attention. After nine months Zika dropped from the international radar as the WHO declared it was no longer an international emergency. But the crisis is not over. The Zika outbreak that began in 2015 and has now spread across much of Central and South America has implications over the medium and long term on equity, health, education, gender and community relations. The challenges of managing the medium/long-term impact of outbreaks, as previously seen in the case of Ebola, are still poorly understood, and so are the prospects of safeguarding the right to health and the right to development in policies advanced by international and national health agencies addressing those amongst the most vulnerable.

The Zika virus, as with other insect-borne diseases such as Dengue and Chikungunya, is part and parcel of troubling inequities, amongst which health inequality is key, based on deprived living conditions. What raised international alarm in 2015 was the number of cases of microcephaly detected in countries affected by the Zika virus, particularly in Brazil. Microcephaly is a condition where babies are born with unusually small skulls. It is a developmental defect and is usually also associated with serious nervous system disorders – including deficiencies in mental functions and muscular weaknesses of varying degrees (WHO 2016). More than 1.5 million people in Brazil have been stricken with the mosquito-borne Zika virus, and since the outbreak began in 2015, the country has logged around 4,000 confirmed and suspected cases of microcephaly. This is alarming, particularly compared to 2014 when there were 147 cases.

Economically disadvantaged segments of the population are at higher risk of exposure to Zika, of being infected, and of their children of being born with microcephaly or other genetic conditions that require special care in the long term. The Zika crisis has also reinforced the socio-cultural expectations about the role of child-raising/caring that disproportionately fall on women, limiting even more opportunities to engage in education programmes or seek/obtain formal employment. Finally, promiscuity, lack of education and the simple fact that poor women might spend more time at home and thus are more exposed to dirty water, sewage, and mosquito breeding grounds than men, also means that women bear the burden of the prospect of infection. This drama typically unfolds in conditions where infrastructural deficiencies and lack of quality medical care and social services are the norm.

Consequently, poor women and their families are likely to be stigmatised as poor, as women, as sexually irresponsible, as families marked by disability. The Zika crisis is, in effect, a window that exposes systemic injustices related to poverty and marginalisation of poor women and children. It also a constitutive dimension of the ‘structural violence’ as global, regional and national responses to the Zika outbreak have disproportionately concentrated on prevention of infection and transmission which although necessary and urgent do not change the structural and related socio-cultural conditions that perpetuate injustice and inequality in these societies.

Which rights are right? 

The Zika crisis is not gender neutral and a focus on women is needed. Take Brazil, where there is a large proportion of single parent families, the majority of which are headed by women. These households are more likely to experience perpetual cycles of poverty as a result of the economic shock of disease. In addition, where children are born with potentially disabling impairments, they are often further isolated by limited support or social protection. The significant increase in the number of infants with microcephaly in the Northeast of Brazil which triggered of the WHO declaration of international emergency, highlights the centrality of the social determinants of health in the transmission chain, as well as issues such as the social division of care and debates on sexual and reproductive health.

During 2016, a roll out of official declarations put women at the centre: the High Commissioner for Human Rights and the WHO reinforced the importance of women’s human rights being central in the response to the Zika outbreak in many states (Gostin and Phelan 2016), while the US Center for Disease Control and Prevention advised pregnant women to refrain from travelling to countries affected by the Zika virus. Most dramatically, health officials in El Salvador urged women not to get pregnant until 2018; Colombia called on women to delay pregnancy for six to eight months.

This particular response focusing on behaviour is problematic for at least three reasons. First, implementing vector control programmes in the poorest areas is particularly challenged by more structural issues of lacking infrastructure, running water and access to healthcare. And even if such operations are conducted, mosquitoes have previously shown their capacity to quickly resurface whenever there is inadequate funding or surveillance. Second, shifting responsibility to women’s behaviour delinks the disease from its social determinants and their rights; not least because most pregnancies amongst poor and vulnerable women in the region are unplanned. As Davies and Bennett (2016: 1046) note, responses tend to focus on the ‘immediate’ health-care problem, while the status of gendered inequality that underpins the prevailing unhealthy conditions is considered ‘beyond’ the capacity of public health interventions. Add to this prevailing high rates of sexual violence, elusive contraception, teen pregnancies and the lack of sexual education prevalent in Zika-affected countries. According to a study published by the Guttmacher Institute in 2014, as many as 56 per cent of pregnancies in Latin American and the Caribbean are unintended, either because of lack of access to contraceptives or because of associated forms of gender violence.

Third, reducing the problem in this way to a few modifiable behaviours ignores factors of social determinants of health and poverty. Responses to communicable diseases such as Zika, and before Ebola, have so far tended to focus overwhelmingly on short-term-vector control and surveillance (Gostin and Hodge 2016; Davies and Bennet 2016). Such responses may be effective in terms of disease containment, effectively masking the precarious social conditions in which they live, in which many rights remain merely notional.

A final issue raised by the Zika crisis is that of reproductive rights. In a region where birth control is limited and sexual violence is widespread, the debate on legalising abortion has gained prominence. Last February, the Obama administration put under Congressional consideration $1.8 billion in emergency funding to help prepare for and respond to the threat posed by the Zika virus. But abortion politics sterilised these discussions as Republican lawmakers leading a congressional hearing on the Zika outbreak made funding conditional on anti-abortion policies in recipient countries. And while Pope Francis hinted at softening the rigid stance of the Catholic Church on contraception because of the threat posed by the Zika virus, it is the region’s restrictive abortion laws that remain a critical problem. In most Latin American countries affected by Zika, abortion is illegal or can only take place in exceptional situations. In El Salvador, for instance, where more than 7,000 cases of Zika were reported between December 2015 and January 2016, abortions are illegal under any circumstances and miscarriages could even lead to homicide convictions if proven to be self-induced.

Advocacy groups in Brazil are increasingly presenting legal cases to the Supreme Court to legalise abortion and secure reproductive rights for women under the principles of the 1988 National Constitution that guarantees the right to health. But the challenges ahead are many, not least in what a human rights-based approach to health may mean in addressing the long-term consequences of Zika (and other such health crises).

To be clear, vector control actions are imperative, but policies and recommendations based on behaviour, control and prevention are not only not enough to address women’s marginalisation in society and the effect this has on their health, they may further exacerbate this problem in addressing the immediate health risk. More academic and policy debate is needed on the scale and nature of future needs (health, social, economic, educational, welfare) of vulnerable communities particularly women and children, and how to calculate them. Government awareness of this issue is still low in Central/South America and although regional, global and expert/practitioner networks might be able to provide support in the future (Riggirozzi 2015; Riggirozzi and Yeates 2015) both in defining the scale of need and in providing support to governments in developing policies to address them, their roles over the medium/long term require greater definition.

Governments in South and Central America are in urgent need of a multi-policy approach – and funding- if they are to put in place effective responses to mitigate long-term effects and not derail progress in terms of meeting the SDGs targets on gender, childhood, disability and inclusive growth. Vector control and compliance could be seen as first step. The right to health needs to be delivered with a view that development in general and the delivery of health in particular should be anchored in an understanding of the inequalities, discriminations and power relations that prevent many people having access to good healthcare systems, care provisions and education and a view that states have legal and ethical obligations under international law to ensure the best possible provision of services for all.

 

Pia is currently involved in a funded project on regional organisations and access to medicines in South America.

 

The Key to Modern Democratic Leadership

By John Boswell, Lecturer in Politics at the University of Southampton.


 

New Zealand Prime Minister John Key’s announcement of his resignation at the beginning of this week has been met with surprise. An historically popular third-term leader is leaving politics on a high. The reaction over this side of the world has been one of bewildered admiration. How is this possible? What was he doing so right? What is this magical secret to success in contemporary democratic leadership? As a kiwi who has followed things closely from afar, and as a card-carrying deliberative democrat—committed more to the procedural fairness of democratic contestation than to substantive policy outcomes—this fawning is a little hard to take. A very effective leader Key has been, but the descriptor democratic is not one that fits. Specifically, three main strategies that have underpinned his National-led governments have been corrosive to established democratic conventions and practices:

1. Procedure is for wimps

Right from the outset the Key government were ‘relaxed’ about established conventions simply because they had the numbers in the House (despite NZ having a proportional system, the make-up of Parliament throughout has included tiny and mostly compliant coalition partners and supporters). An egregious example was the use of urgency in Parliament. New and manifestly un-urgent Bills in the early days especially were passed under urgency, curtailing debate and contestation, and preventing opportunity for Member’s Bills to be heard. The rituals of scrutiny and opposition were painted as nasty politicking, getting in the way of the government’s rightful mandate.

2. Governments get to control the communications environment

A change championed in particular by National’s media guru, chief strategist and all-round fixer Steven Joyce (the so-called Minister for Everything) has been to turn government agencies into cogs in an impressive political communications machine. Joyce’s own (admittedly large) Ministry, for instance, employs over 50 communications staff. That’s as many media experts as most newsrooms in the country.  These communications specialists—largely poached in fact from rapidly emptying newsrooms—seem to be employed chiefly for the purpose of not communicating, of stalling and misdirecting. I myself was rather miffed to be on the receiving end of one such run-around on a recent research trip back to NZ.  My experiences were by and large confirmed by the academics and media people I spoke to: from Key himself refusing to front for Morning Report or Campbell Live (the most critical interview rituals in NZ), to mundane operational agencies neglecting to engage with people like me, a culture of shutting-up-shop reigns.

3. The advantage of being in government is one to be used politically

The most fundamental and disturbing change has been the one uncovered by investigative journalist Nicky Hager in his book Dirty Politics: an investigation that links the PM’s office to a right-wing attack blogger. This is the below-the-line, dirty, Nixon-esque abuse of the powers and privileges of office to hurt rivals. The most notable tactic has been using Official Information Act requests to coordinate attacks on political rivals (by tipping of this blogger and then processing his requests at lightning speed) and stall genuine requests. Key has denied the former but actually openly admitted the latter.

Readers will be quick to point out that none of this is unique to the NZ context, recalling the playbooks of John Howard, Alistair Campbell, Karl Rove and beyond (after all, NZ is famously 20 years late to the party on everything). The dark arts have always been part and parcel of democratic politics. But a key part of the story here has been the context that has allowed these strategies to breed so much success, in particular the precipitous decline in media coverage of politics in NZ. There are now (according to my sources) more government communications people than journalists. What’s indisputable is that they are more experienced operators who can, in the words of one informant, ‘run rings around the cadets’. This is important because the fourth estate is in trouble everywhere, certainly in spirit even if it survives in body. NZ, with its small, deregulated, almost entirely private media market, represents the extreme edge of a broader and seemingly inexorable trend.

So what might be picked up and taken from the kiwi experience to the current travails of Brexit etc? Key’s government has of course not been populist in the mould of Farage or Trump—indeed Key has annoyed critics on the right for being far too committed to preserving the status quo. Instead I fear he has set the mould for something much less extreme but potentially more enduring, what might be called a popularist leader: a pleasantly bland PM that people (not me, you might have picked) want to have a beer with —one at home in the All Blacks changing room, bantering with shock jocks, posing for selfies—whose views on anything controversial are deliberately obscured, and whose governments’ actions afford little chance of scrutiny and are geared toward damaging enemies and furthering a personal political brand.

I, for one, much prefer it over here where people still hate their politicians.

Don’t be fooled, political scientists did see Brexit coming

 

By Matt Wood, University of Sheffield. This article was originally posted on the Political Studies Association website.


 

This week the artist Grayson Perry took a swipe at political science in the annual PSA Awards, claiming the profession completely failed to foresee Britain’s vote to leave the European Union. The notion that Brexit was a defeat for political science seems to have become a commonly accepted lesson from the vote on June 23rd this year. For some, this was because the quantitative polling methods that widely predicted a narrow win for Remain were wide of the mark. For others, it was because political science has avoided its professional and ethical duties in defending informed public debate.

In this blog I’m going to challenge this narrative. I’m going to offer some reasons why political scientists in fact did see Brexit coming, in the form of a deep and intractable crisis of legitimacy for the EU. The clickbait-style title of the blog is intended to be provocative. Evidently, most political scientists did not predict the specific outcome of the referendum vote. However, we have long diagnosed democratic weaknesses in the EU’s fuzzy and incoherent governance structures, noted how weak European identity is, and even argued for ‘taking back control’ ourselves. I think we need to reflect on our professional and emotive commitments as a result.

The Democratic Deficit

For decades political scientists have been warning that the European Union has faced a fundamental crisis of democratic legitimacy – what was termed the ‘democratic deficit’. In a widely cited article published ten years ago, Professors Simon Hix and Andreas Follesdal noted with some exhaustion that “The fate of the Constitutional Treaty for Europe after the French and Dutch referendums will no doubt prompt further volumes of academic books and articles on the ‘democratic deficit’ in the European Union (EU). The topic already receives huge attention”. They were right; the ‘democratic deficit’ debate goes back to some of the foundational debates about the EU in the academic ‘literature’. Big, influential scholars, for example Fritz Scharpf, Giandomenico Majone and Vivien Schmidt, have weighed in with ideas of how to alleviate the problem. Majone, one of the doyens of EU scholarship, has even very visibly changed his view on the EU, arguing in a recent book the Union now faces an existential crisis related to the Eurozone.

If anything, political science has moved beyond simplistic arguments that people would support the EU just because it is good for economic growth. In an animation released earlier in the year by the Sir Bernard Crick Centre, dedicated to translating academic research into practice, we highlighted the dangers posed by the democratic deficit to the European project. The media debate, though, was dominated by economists, global figureheads and business leaders who still thought economic arguments would be enough. Our video clearly wasn’t as well watched as we would have hoped! But even it had been, would anyone have noticed?

European identity

The second glaring issue political science got right before the referendum was the clear and consistent finding that British people (and Europeans more generally) simply do not feel European. Recent Eurobarometer findings show just how few citizens of Europe, and Britain especially, actually feel uniquely European, as well as their focus on key challenges like immigration. More broadly political scientists have criticized the notion of European identity, recently arguing for example: “European identity remains a ‘dry, institutional, symbolic conception’ … which has failed to reach the ‘hearts and the guts of the peoples of Europe’”. We’ve also uncovered how those who are most committed to the European project are liberally minded Erasmus students or business people who tend to travel regularly between European countries.

This does not strike me as putting our heads in the sand, or failing to see the ‘Brexistential crisis’ coming. It’s entirely consistent with what most commentators have been saying post-referendum. Perhaps if we’d written more blogs about this identity crisis, the public would have sat up and taken notice? Perhaps if we acted more like think tanks, political talking heads or Sun columnists, we would get more of a hearing?

There may be something to this, but the question though is if political scientists don’t write enough for public audiences, would anyone actually listen to us if we started writing more? Would they be any more likely to listen to us on the benefits of EU membership than, say, the Bank of England, Ryanair or the International Monetary Fund?

Taking back control

The last, perhaps more controversial point, is many prominent political scientists have been arguing in favour of themes used by the Leave campaign for quite some time now. While focused mainly around globalisation, a number of political scientists and political economists have been saying that communities, activists and governments should be challenging globalisation and transnational institutions. They’ve argued these institutions are disastrous, undemocratic and obscure. Politics, they argued, should be about having ‘control’; having collective agency, engaging in deliberation and promoting democratic choice. This is certainly what we think in the Anti-politics specialist group of the PSA. Some of us have been saying talk of ‘globalisation’ disincentivises public engagement and participation. Others have been making the broader argument that we shouldn’t accept the ‘neoliberal’ settlement as inevitable.

All these themes were used to devastating effect by the Leave campaign. They created political engagement in some areas of the country not seen since Tony Blair’s 1997 electoral victory. Put in a mischievous way, if political scientists had hoped for stimulating mass political engagement and challenging ‘anti-politics’, then they have, in many ways succeeded. They just haven’t succeeded in the way they would have hoped.

Critical Friends

Should we conclude Brexit has been a resounding success? Are we all eminently happy with a possible new world order of closed borders and economic uncertainty? Many political scientists would not wish to settle for that. What it does suggest, I think, is we need to look at our own emotive attachments, and whether we do our jobs properly as ‘critical friends’ of the institutions we study. If anything has been surprising, it has been how dismayed many of us claim to be about Brexit, given that political science has been highlighting the limitations of the EU, discontent with globalisation and so on for decades. Could it be, then, we need to reflect on our attachments and orientations as a discipline, rather than the specific ‘research findings’ and how they are ‘communicated’?

Perhaps our feelings of existential crisis have more to do with the funding and culture of universities themselves, than whether our actual research findings are ‘valid’? As the impact agenda has taken hold, we have grown closer to government, European bodies, think tanks, and other ‘elite’ organisations. While we should help out those organisations and fulfil our commitments as advisors and communicators, we should never forget academics need to have the role of ‘critical friends’ in helping these institutions out. That’s what distinguishes our profession. The idea is we take what the best evidence and theory tells us, not being afraid to point out the flaws in the system, as well as being honest about the limitations of our findings.

We are witnessing the crisis of a transnational system that, for all its faults, many political scientists feel an emotive connection to, often due to feelings of solidarity and liberal values of openness and tolerance. At the same time we understand the EU’s inherent weaknesses, the desire of local communities, beset by divisions and inequalities, to ‘take back control’. We understand how deeply undemocratic the project has been, and feel we must be critical.

This creates dilemmas. Many of us balk at the idea of supporting ‘elite’ institutions, but at the same time don’t wish to bias our research to movements campaigning to ‘take back control’ even if we believe there may be merits to this. If anything, maybe this dilemma means we put our heads in the sand about the momentous consequences of the referendum, rather than being short of explanations for why it happened.  Now more than ever, good evidence is needed to improve public policy responses to the great challenges of our time. Governments need political science more than ever. But we should be confident in being critical of mainstream media and public opinion, whether that is as electoral commentators, advisors to government, or wider public speakers.