1.1 Starting with Giovanni Sartoriās Three Questions
In a theoretical article that is now a classic, Giovanni Sartori identified the three key questions of any comparative approach in social sciences. Firstly, the comparatist must wonder about the reasons for choosing the comparative methodāāWhy compareā? Then, the comparatist shall reflect upon the degree of comparability between the objectsāāWhat is comparableā? In addition, the various methods and tricks to build up the comparison must be elaboratedāāHow to compareā? (Sartori 1991: 243ā257). The state-of-the-art scholarly literature in comparative politics and comparative public administration has mainly addressed the third questionāthe comparison strategies,āin particular the tools and techniques that help researchers to build comparisons (see Peters 1990, 1998; Pierre 2005; Hassenteufel 2005; Dreyfus and Eymeri-Douzans 2006; Courtin et al. 2012). Without denying the importance of the epistemic issues related to the third question, we would like to start here by addressing the first two, which came to our mind from the very start of the collective endeavour that finds a first milestone achievement with the publication of the present edited volume.1
The first ambition of our research programme was to question the presupposed singularity of the prefect āĆ la franƧaiseā. To say it funnily, prefects would be āso Frenchyā! This stereotype seems to be widely shared, in France and elsewhere, among academics as well as in the cultivated public. The prefectoral institution is considered by many as intrinsically associated with the political and administrative history of France. It is undeniable that the modern prefect was created in early 1800, by the Loi du 28 pluviĆ“se an VIII concernant la division du territoire franƧais et lāadministration, promulgated by First Consul Napoleon Bonaparte⦠and has survived all sorts of vicissitudes for 220 years. This contemporary territorial representative of the central State is thus depicted as a distant heir of the Kingās seneschals and bailiffs of the Middle Ages, then of the intendants of the Bourbons in the times of Absolutism: prefects are always said to be part of a long tradition of politico-administrative centralisation (de Tocqueville 2004 [1856]). In this perspective, the prefectoral institution is treated as a French administrative oddity, related to a specific national trajectory of āstatenessā (as coined by Linz and Stepan 1996: Chapter 2āāStatenessā, Nationalism, and democratisation: 16ā37). Several foreign scholars who worked on French prefects have also exaggerated this French āexceptionalismā (e.g. Chapman 1955; Fesler 1962; Spitzer 1965; Richardson 1966; Armstrong 1973; Withcomb 1974; Machin 1977; Antonielli 1983; Cassese 1983; Daly 2001), with the notable exception of Alistair Cole (Cole and John 2001; Cole 2010, 2017). Furthermore, the comparative studies which have flourished more recently in many disciplines of our social sciences about public institutions, public administrations or administrative elites (without being exhaustive, cf. Page and Wright 1999; Chandler 2000, 2001; Dreyfus 2000; Chatriot and Gosewinckel 2006; Dreyfus and Eymeri-Douzans 2006; Kuzmics and Axtmann 2007; Becker and Von Krosigk 2008; Peters 2008; Baldersheim and Rose 2010; Pollitt and Bouckaert 2011; Kuhlmann and Wollmann 2014) have paid little or no attention to prefects, considered as pertaining to a peculiar national tradition.
Yet, a European inventory of the various existing ways of organising territorial governance and centre-periphery relations in various countries obliges to seriously nuance the myth of a French exceptionality as regards prefects. As a matter of fact, officials in charge of representing the central State in the provinces and taking a role of politico-administrative territorial leadership can be found in most countries of the European continent⦠and elsewhere in the world.2 Of course, their names vary a lot. In countries with a Napoleonic administrative tradition (in the categories of Peters 2008 or Ongaro 2010), the word āprĆ©fetā has simply been translated: this is the case in Italy, in Romania, in Greece, in Turkey. In the Netherlands, the title of āCommissaris van de Koningā, commissioner of the King, is very close in meaning, considering the monarchical nature of the regime, with the one of ācommissaire de la RĆ©publiqueā that happened to be a substitute to the title of prefect at several moments in French history (1848, 1944ā1945, 1982ā988). In other Latin countries, one can find the equivalent word to Governor, such as in SpaināāGobernador civilā or āGobernador de provinciaā then āDelegado del Gobiernoā or previously in PortugalāāGobernador civilā, now abolished, or in BelgiumāāGouverneur de provinceā. In Scandinavian countries, we also find provincial or county governors, holding different titles whose etymology is vernacular: āLandshƶvdingā in Sweden; Fylkesmann in Norway; and ā(Stats)amtmandā in Denmark (abolished since 2007). As for Germany, at the lower level of the inside territory of the LƤnder, we can find the āRegierungsprƤsidentā as well as the āLandeshauptmannāāthe latter also in neighbouring Austria. As for the Central and Eastern parts of Europe, there are also governors who bear that title in many countries, especially the āŠŃŠ±ŠµŃŠ½Š°ŃоŃā (phonetically, āguvernatorā) who head each and every āoblastā (province) in Russia or Bulgaria. Furthermore, we will not forget Poland, with its āvoivodeshipsā, each headed by a āvoivodeā (wojewód). Usually appointed by the central government, sometimes elected as in Switzerland, these officials placed on top of the (web of) institutions in charge of governing and administrating the politico-administrative subdivisions of the territory, and thus the society and economy of our States, turn out to be much more of a common figure than of a French peculiarity.
The first question of Giovanni Sartori is thus answered: Why compare prefects in Europe? Because there is something to compare, and because such comparison has not been started yet in the scholarly literature.