Democratic Latin America

Craig L. Arceneaux

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781134824762
• Edition: 2
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

This much-expanded and updated second edition of Democratic Latin America takes an institutional approach to Latin American politics to discuss contemporary politics and to highlight how past politics have shaped current institutional designs. It draws explicit connections between certain political features- such as fragmentation, efficiency, accountability, instability, consensus, or responsiveness- and the institutional design of a country. Students thus learnnot onlythat a country is unstable or has high rates of participation or low levels of corruption, but they also learn why. And more importantly, they also learn how politics can be shaped by different institutional arrangements.

Features:

• Each chapter focuses on a different institution, such as the executive, political parties, electoral systems, the armed forces, or federalism and compares how they are constructed differently across countries.

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• Placing a premium on accessibility, each chapter opens with a story and ends with a detailed country case study, making use of contemporary examples to feed student interest in current events.

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• Newly updated comparison-based tables and box features (electoral results, percentage of women legislators, and surveys of partisan identification) are included to stimulate analysis.

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• New topics of research have been added to ensure the recognition of the latest changes in the region, including: corruption scandals; the turn of the "pink tide"; protest and social movements; LGBT rights; citizen security and organized crime; new forms of legislative accountability; and the use of social media as a political resource in Latin America.
  
  

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Democratic Latin America continues to offer an original way of teaching and learning about Latin American politics.

1 An Institutional Approach to Democracy and Democratization in Latin America

Photo 1.1 Statue of independence hero General Manuel Belgrano in front of the Presidential Palace in Buenos Aires: Argentine institutions have shaped, embodied, and reacted to the history of the country since independence.

Source: © Shutterstock

Every year international travelers flock to Buenos Aires, Argentina. They are lured by its cosmopolitan charm, famed artistic expressions, and entertaining nightlife. Many come from neighboring Uruguay or Brazil, and many others come from northern horizons on the other side of the world. Their journey is a long one, and most arrive nagged by jet lag and just a bit dazed by the fact that it is no longer summer, but winter—or vice versa. But in many respects Buenos Aires can be approached like other cities, and this provides some comfort to the otherwise flustered traveler. There are taxis, buses, and rental cars for transportation from the airport. Hotels, restaurants, bars, and shops dot its urban core. Crowds flood its streets in synchronicity with the workday. Street peddlers and musicians struggle to make a living. There are signs of fabulous wealth, such as the luxurious flats of Palermo or Recoleta that sit near Audi dealerships and overlook spacious parks. And there are scenes of desperation, found with uncomfortable ease in the working-class streets of La Boca. The inequality is disturbing, but it is also found in most any large city.

Visitors familiar with government institutions in the United States find a superficial sense of familiarity in the large edifices devoted to Congress, the executive branch, and the Supreme Court. There is a separation of powers here too. The congressional palace is laid out in a symmetrical Greco-Roman style, with large fluted columns up front, and a huge dome on top. The U.S. Capitol Building immediately comes to mind. But the subtle differences are unavoidable, and become defining in short order. The dome is copper clad with a green patina finish. It juts upward narrowly to affirm the Italian design in fashion when the architect drafted the blueprints in the 1890s. Statues of majestic birds with their wings spread abut a large monument up front. Eagles come to mind—but these are condors. Up Avenida de Mayo one finds the executive building. It is called the Casa Rosada (Pink House), and that seems to mimic the presidential home in the United States, but still it is pink, not white. Moreover, the president of Argentina only works here. His residence is outside the main city area at an estate known as Quinta de Olivos. Finally, these travelers would not be surprised by the stately building that houses the Supreme Court of Argentina. But few would realize that the magistrates inside mete out justice through a code law tradition influenced by France, and thus work very differently than the judges who practice under common law in Great Britain and the United States.

And as it turns out, Buenos Aires is not just like any other city in the world. It has its own history, culture, and rhythm. The tango, gaucho folklore, passionate nationalism, Boca Juniors (or River Plate) soccer team, appreciation for theater, mate drink, grilled meat (asados), penchant for mass protests, and an immigrant history all mix to produce a unique city and people. Visitors arrive precisely to experience all that is distinctive about Buenos Aires, and Argentina. And most are not so oblivious—they know that the country offers its own history and politics. But few grasp just how and why the history and politics of Argentina have developed as they have. And those who seek to know more rarely consider the makeup of government institutions, because they appear so comparable to those in the United States. But that is a mistake. After all, when Argentines look at the Casa Rosada, they do not mull over the similarity of the name to the White House. They are more likely to reflect on the rose color. Legend has it that the color came about as a compromise after a civil war that pit those seeking a centralized government—represented by the color white—against those hoping to keep power in the regions—represented by the color red.¹ Relations between the federal and regional governments remain very important to contemporary politics in Argentina.

Put simply, the institutions of Latin America are not simple replays of what we see in the United States. The president of Argentina does share a title with the president of the United States, but he holds different powers. Faced with an uncompromising congress, he can appeal directly to the people with a consultation on desired legislation. Although nonbinding, the consultation can pressure congress. And he holds power not only to veto legislation, but also to veto only selections of a bill and to sign into law other portions. The president of the United States can take neither of these actions. Federalism, parties, congress, and other institutions found in democracies also work in distinct ways in Argentina, such that knowledge of their details and mechanics provides an engaging doorway to the politics of the country. This is a doorway all too often passed by those that glance at institutional labels—such as president, supreme court, ministry of defense, or election—and presume that politics works the same as in other countries with institutions of the same name. And beyond the practice of politics, a survey of institutions also offers a gateway to the history and culture of a country. This is because institutions are reservoirs of national memory that define what is important and cherished by a people.

Raúl Alfonsín knew the power of institutions. He was the president who followed the brutal military regime that ruled Argentina from 1976 to 1983. This was a regime that had dismissed the entire government and proclaimed that it would enact a “process of national reorganization.” It even referred to itself as “The ‘Proceso’ (Process).” Audacious as they were, the military rulers failed miserably. They lacked all legitimacy such that any institution they proposed could survive only if backed by force. But even as they retreated to the barracks, the armed forces held out hope that some of their legislation and institutional reforms would provide a base for the civilian government that followed. Alfonsín rejected that thought. He campaigned on the promise to reinstate the original Constitution of 1853. It was for civilians alone, through democratic procedures, to decide their government. A return to the founding constitution would affirm a popular commitment to the beliefs and values upon which the country stood—and lay bare the folly of military attempts to compose institutions out of thin air.

Institutions cannot, and do not, just appear from nowhere. They echo the historical, cultural, and political consciousness of a nation. But nations do change over time—sometimes dramatically. A wave of immigration at the turn of the nineteenth century literally remade the Argentine nation. Industrialization after World War II gave the working class a powerful voice. Changes like this take place on a stage created by institutions. Over time immigrants and working-class groups found their way into the electoral system as suffrage expanded and new parties reached out to them. Sometimes the changes overwhelm institutions, and powerful actors move in to assert their control. This happened in Argentina when the armed forces, primed by Cold War attitudes and fearful of working-class mobilizations, intervened in 1976. But as noted, that is a difficult task because institutions have roots, and staying power.

And at other times, actors reassess their institutional stage and take it upon themselves to rearrange the set. This happened shortly after the transition to democracy in Argentina. The president who followed Alfonsín, Carlos Menem (1989–1999), pushed constitutional interpretations to their limits as he made ample use of his decree powers to confront an economic crisis, and overhauled the judiciary with sympathetic appointees who would not dare question his actions. But in one respect, the constitution was crystal clear—it prohibited a second term for the president. This was something Menem dearly desired. Alfonsín, now leader of the opposition, saw an opportunity and met with Menem to negotiate constitutional reforms in 1994. One reform allowed Menem to take another run at the presidency (which he won in 1995), but others reduced executive powers and strengthened judicial independence. Political actors in Argentina worked out their differences through institutional changes.

Political actors may gain opportunities to shape institutions, but today it is nearly impossible for them to craft institutions that plainly and durably reflect their interests. The pressures from history and culture, the interests of opposing political leaders and groups, and the complexity of institutions and their interactions ensure that institutions possess autonomy in the long run. Menem did get his second term, but as part of the compromise he relinquished authority over Buenos Aires—the president would no longer appoint its mayor, nor control its massive budget. And as it turns out, the city provided a political and economic base for Menem’s opponents to mobilize. Buenos Aires elected a Menem foe, Fernando de la Rúa, as its first mayor in 1996. He would move on to win the presidency in 1999. Carlos Menem could influence a scene in Argentine politics, but he could hardly control the following act.

And what happens when institutions drift from fundamental expectations and beliefs in society, and begin to lose their legitimacy? De la Rúa took the presidency riding a wave of opposition to Menem that grew as corruption scandals came to light and the economy once again went sour. But he did little to address corruption, and did little more than ask Argentines to tighten their belts as the economic crisis deepened. Worst of all, he prohibited access to savings accounts as a stop gag measure to prevent a run on the banks. De la Rúa’s supporters took a hit in congressional elections, and the government stagnated. Protestors took to the streets under the banner “¡Que se vayan todos!”—“ Throw them all out!” Rioting erupted, and more than two dozen died in confrontations with police in late December 2001. Mounting protests forced de la Rúa from office, and triggered a succession of four presidents in three weeks. A commitment to hold early elections on the presidency helped to restore the calm. The Argentine example illustrates how social mobilization and protest often acts as the mirror image of institutional development. Institutions move politics from the street to the halls of government. But when they fail, the opposite occurs.

It would be up to the winner of the 2003 presidential elections, Néstor Kirchner, to restore confidence in democratic institutions. He removed justices tainted by corruption, overturned amnesty laws that shielded soldiers implicated during the military regime, and stood up to international banks that demanded harsh austerity measures for the Argentine public. He left office as the most popular departing president in the history of Argentina in 2007, when he was succeeded by his wife, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, who would win another term in 2011. But Fernández reignited memories of Menem as she made ample use of executive decrees to address a declining economy and sidestep a fractured congress. And disturbing allegations of corruption emerged. Argentines grew suspicious in 2013 when Fernández pushed judicial reforms that limited investigations into government actions and opened the magistrates council, a body that appoints judges, to elections and partisan affiliation. But the Supreme Court was not about to relinquish the independence it formed during Néstor’s term. It declared the reform unconstitutional. Fernández’ brashness toward institutions did little for her flagging reputation and opened the door for a member of the opposition, Mauricio Macri, to win the presidency in 2016.

In Argentina and elsewhere, institutions serve as a central forum in the struggle for democracy. Their makeup provides insight to the history and culture of a country. Their rules establish guidelines for political actors to negotiate their differences. Their offices serve as a target for actors seeking political power. Likewise, at any given time a snapshot of institutional offices reveals who has power, and who does not. And their legitimacy reveals the prospects for political instability. Most of all, institutions make for an intriguing subject. It is not only interesting to learn about the manifold ways democratic institutions can be designed. It is practical as well. Latin America is filled with countries on the road toward democratic consolidation—some further than others. Whether or not they succeed will be affected significantly by institutional choices. If we envision democracy as a constellation of institutions, and accept that these institutions can take on different features, we open the possibility of institutional engineering. For most countries, success on the road to democr...