Exporting Democracy: Rhetoric Vs. Reality

EXPORTING DEMOCRACY

Exporting Democracy RHETORIC VS. REALITY edited by

Peter J. Schraeder

b o u l d e r l o n d o n

Published in the United States of America in 2002 by Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc. 1800 30th Street, Boulder, Colorado 80301 www.rienner.com and in the United Kingdom by Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc. 3 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, London WC2E 8LU © 2002 by Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Exporting democracy : rhetoric vs. reality / edited by Peter J. Schraeder. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 1-58826-056-9 (alk. paper) 1. Democratization. 2. World politics—1989– 3. Political development. I. Schraeder, Peter J. JC421.E97 2002 321.8—dc21 2001058928 British Cataloguing in Publication Data A Cataloguing in Publication record for this book is available from the British Library. Printed and bound in the United States of America

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The paper used in this publication meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials Z39.48-1984. 5

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To the memories of Maximilian Edward Schraeder’s namesakes:

Max Schraeder (1919–1996), who fought for the democratic ideal in World War II and

Edward McNamara (1942–1998), who reminded us that every individual counts in a democratic society

Contents

Preface 1

ix

Promoting an International Community of Democracies Peter J. Schraeder

1

PART 1 Promoting Democracy: Exploring the Rationales 2 3

In Pursuit of a Peaceful International System Charles W. Kegley, Jr., and Margaret G. Hermann

15

In Pursuit of a Prosperous International System Juliet Johnson

31

PART 2 The Role of State Actors 4

5 6 7

Promoting a Special Brand of Democracy: Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden Liisa Laakso

55

Germany’s Hesitant Role in Promoting Democracy Jürgen Rüland and Nikolaus Werz

73

Japan: A Passive Partner in the Promotion of Democracy Tsuneo Akaha

89

Inconsistent U.S. Efforts To Promote Democracy Abroad Steven W. Hook

109

vii

viii

Contents

PART 3 The Role of Multilateral and Nongovernmental Organizations 8 9 10 11

The European Union: An Ad Hoc Policy with a Low Priority Gorm Rye Olsen

131

The United Nations: Strengthening an International Norm Christopher C. Joyner

147

The World Bank: Missionary Deeds (and Misdeeds) Béatrice Hibou

173

Political Foundations and Think Tanks James M. Scott

193

PART 4 Conclusion 12

Making the World Safe for Democracy? Peter J. Schraeder

Bibliography The Contributors Index About the Book

217 237 271 277 291

Preface

T

he genesis of this book was the common interest of the contributors to better understand the international dimension of the democratization process still unfolding in various regions of the developing world, including Africa, Asia, Eastern Europe, the Middle East, Oceania, and the Western Hemisphere. Specifically, an international research network of scholars from North America and Europe was formed in 1996 to investigate the efforts to promote democracy by a wide variety of state and non-state actors within the international system. This book represents one of the scholarly fruits of this research network. This project was made possible by a generous grant from the Finnish International Development Agency (FINNIDA). A grant proposal originally submitted under the auspices of the editor’s home institution, Loyola University Chicago, and the Transnational Institute (TNI), a nonprofit organization based in Amsterdam, was enthusiastically embraced by FINNIDA. The funds from this grant were essentially divided between TNI and Loyola University Chicago. TNI, under its former director, Jochen Hippler, utilized its portion of the grant to fund a variety of policy-oriented democracy promotion efforts, including workshops, lectures, and support for local activists. The remaining portion of the FINNIDA grant, administered by me at Loyola University Chicago, was dedicated to funding a series of scholarly research papers that ultimately became the basis for this book. FINNIDA’s generous financial support, as well as the patience of its administrators while this project slowly wound its way to fruition, are greatly appreciated. Indeed, this grant project is indicative of the seriousness with which the Nordic countries, especially Finland, and a wide array of other international actors approach the normative goal of international democracy promotion. Several individuals and institutions were essential to the success of this project, although as project director I alone take responsibility for any ix

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Preface

remaining omissions and errors. Several scholars took part in the formative stages of this project: Zehra Arat, Daniel Bach, Daniel Bourmaud, Susan Mezey, Michael Mezey, Michael Pinto-Duschinsky, Olle Törnquist, Timothy Shaw, Ebrima Sall, and Anders Uhlin. Their input and advice is greatly appreciated. The research and writing of the individual chapters were greatly aided by each of our home institutions. In my own case, Loyola University Chicago supplemented the FINNIDA grant with generous in-house support, most notably by providing funding for several highly motivated and intelligent graduate research assistants—Jan Ahrens, Brian Endless, David Jesuit, Adina Sigartau, Bruce Taylor, and Patrick Van Inwegen—each of whom contributed in a special way to this project. I am particularly grateful to the Herculean efforts of Jonathan Riggs, my graduate research assistant for two years, whose good humor and attention to detail were vital to completing this book. Above all, this project would not have been possible without the loving support of my wife, Catherine Anne Scanlon, and the antics of our threeyear-old son, Maximilian Edward Schraeder, who learned the joys of typing at a computer while I was completing this book. Together Catherine Anne and I have lived, worked, and traveled in nearly seventy, usually less-thandemocratic countries that have served as living laboratories for understanding the world presented in these pages. In short, Catherine Anne completes me, and Maximilian completes the two of us together. —Peter J. Schraeder

1 Promoting an International Community of Democracies Peter J. Schraeder

I

n a historic meeting held June 25–27, 2000, in Warsaw, Poland, foreign ministers and other representatives from more than half of the globe’s nations gathered to discuss their common interest in advancing an international “community of democracies.” The resulting Warsaw Declaration committed its 106 signatories to a wide array of prodemocracy actions, from the preservation and strengthening of democratic practices where they already exist to the actual promotion of those practices in countries where they are absent. Although critics rightfully questioned the duplicity of some signatories (some are nondemocratic), with some denouncing the entire endeavor as a “well-meaning but largely empty exercise in legacy-hunting” coordinated by the outgoing Clinton administration, the Warsaw Declaration clearly captured two important dimensions of international relations at the beginning of the twenty-first century: democracy’s status as the predominant form of political governance within the Westphalian nation-state system, and the emergence of an international norm that considers democracy promotion to be an accepted and necessary component of international behavior.1 The international dimension of democracy promotion—the topic of this book—nonetheless remains at best understudied and poorly understood and, in the extreme, hotly debated and criticized by its contemporary detractors. The primary purpose of this chapter is to set the stage for the analysis that follows by charting the spread of democracy and reviewing how the scholarly literature has portrayed the international dimension of this process.

Global Spread of Democracy Dozens of countries in all regions of the world made transitions from authoritarian to democratic forms of governance during the last quarter of 1

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Exporting Democracy

the twentieth century. As aptly noted by Samuel P. Huntington, an American political scientist whose writings have frequently set the parameters of debate within the discipline,2 the world has been witnessing a “third wave” of democratization that is much stronger and more prolonged and widespread than its two predecessors that began in the 1820s and the 1940s, respectively (Huntington, 1991; see also Shin, 1994; Jaggers and Gurr, 1995; and Doorenspleet, 2000). The most recent wave of democratization began in 1974 with the downfall of dictatorships in Southern Europe, subsequently spreading throughout Latin America. Its further spread to Eastern Europe and the African continent coincided with the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, and the subsequent collapse of the former Soviet Union and the downfall of communist regimes in Eastern Europe, leading some to argue that these latter two regions actually form part of a distinct “fourth wave” of democratization within the international system (Whitehead, 1996: 4). The global spread of democracy is aptly portrayed by drawing on the democracy statistics that Freedom House, a conservative think tank, publishes annually in the Comparative Survey on Freedom.3 The survey uses a seven-point scale (with 1 being the best score and 7 the worst) to assess two dimensions of freedom: political rights, such as the ability to form political organizations free from government intrusion; and civil liberties, such as freedom of speech and assembly. The two scores are combined to create a “freedom index,” ranging from the best combined rating of 2 to the worst combined rating, 14. Countries are then grouped into three categories: (1) democratic, with a high degree of freedom (2–5 points); (2) partially democratic, with a medium degree of freedom (6–11 points); and (3) undemocratic, with a low degree of freedom (11–14 points). Although methodologists have offered critiques that may call into question rankings associated with individual countries at specific points in time (Gastil, 1991), the Freedom House figures remain extremely useful in understanding general trends within the international system (see Piano and Puddington, 2001). The last quarter of the twentieth century clearly witnessed important gains in the spread of democracy (see Table 1.1).4 In 1975, one year after the emergence of the third wave of democratization, the average democracy rating for the roughly 150 countries that comprised the international system was 9.1. Twenty-five years later, after an additional forty-one countries had achieved independence, an improved score of 7.0 represented a 23 percent gain in global democratic practices. Western Europe, the cradle of contemporary democracy, remains the most democratic region within the international system. As the starting point of the third wave of democratization, Western Europe further consolidated its democratic credentials with the downfall of dictatorships in Portugal and Spain. The fourteen Pacific island countries that comprise Oceania represent the world’s second most democratic region. Anchored by

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An International Community of Democracies

Table 1.1

Degree of Global Democratization (democracy scores, by region, 1975–2000) 1975

1985

1995

2000

Africa

11.8

11.7

9.1

8.9

Asia

10.4

10.1

10.2

9.6

Eastern Europe

12.9

12.7

6.7

5.9

Middle East

11.0

10.5

11.5

11.0

Oceania

4.4

4.4

3.6

4.1

Western Europe

3.5

2.9

2.6

2.6

Western Hemisphere

7.1

5.7

5.3

4.8

Global (all regions)

9.1

8.5

7.3

7.0

Source of data: Freedom House website: http://www.freedomhouse.org Scale: 2 (most democratic)–14 (least democratic) Free (democratic) 2–5 Partly free (partially democratic) 6–10 Not free (authoritarian) 11–14

democratic Australia and New Zealand, Oceania consistently maintained an impressive democratic standard from 1975 to 2000, a period in which seven of its fourteen countries achieved independence. Attempted coups d’état and instability in Fiji and the Solomon Islands, as well as Tonga’s consistently poor rating, nonetheless ensured a slight decline in the region’s freedom ranking in 2000 in comparison to earlier periods (Piano and Puddington, 2001: 92). Outside of Western Europe, the Western Hemisphere is the region that was most directly and immediately affected by the initial burst of the third wave of democratization. The region’s democracy rating improved from a combined score of 7.1 in 1975 to 5.7 in 1985, further improving to 4.8 in 2000. This is not surprising, not least of all because the leaders of the third wave—Spain and Portugal—were the former colonial powers of the majority of countries in Central and South America, and they continue to share important cultural links to this day. The transitions to democracy in Spanish-speaking Latin America were particularly striking, culminating in 2000 with the election of President Vicente Fox in Mexico, which further consolidated the country’s democratic status. Except for Cuba, the entire Western Hemisphere enjoys some variant of democratic rule. Impressive democratic gains have also occurred in Eastern Europe. In the aftermath of communism’s demise and the breakup of the former Soviet

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Exporting Democracy

Union, a new generation of political elites has sought to refashion outmoded and ineffective communist systems, including those in Russia—potentially one of the most important anchors for a regional democratic order. The success of these efforts to date is demonstrated by the improvement of the region’s democracy rating from an extremely dismal 12.9 in 1975 (the worst overall score for any region during the last quarter of the twentieth century) to an impressive 5.9 in 2000—a 54 percent gain in regional democratic practices. Even the Balkans, beset by political-military crises that culminated in a series of U.S.-led military interventions, witnessed the elections of President Vojislav Kostunica in Yugoslavia and President Stipe Mesic in Croatia, as well as the overthrow of Serbian dictator Slobodan Milosevic (Piano and Puddington, 2001: 92). The African continent was also dramatically affected by the collapse of communism in the post-1989 era. The rejection of single-party rule in its intellectual heartland ensured that African leaders, many of whom had patterned their own political systems after those of Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union, could no longer justify the continuation of this model on the African continent (Schraeder, 2000: 271). When combined with the increasingly vocal demands of prodemocracy movements that had emerged at the end of the 1980s, the collapse of communism ushered in a period of democratic transition, often referred to as Africa’s “second independence” or “second liberation,” previously unseen in African political history (Bratton and van de Walle, 1997). Political transitions have resulted in the gradual strengthening of democratic practices throughout the African continent, albeit not on the same scale or with the same intensity as democracy trends in Eastern Europe or Latin America. Asia, at least on the surface, appears to have been only marginally affected by the spread of democracy at the end of the twentieth century. Its democracy rating only slightly improved from 10.4 in 1975 to 9.6 in 2000. When one focuses on subregional developments, however, some noteworthy trends emerge (see Table 1.2). The countries of Central Asia, most of which were part of the former Soviet Union, have maintained the worst democracy rating. Unlike their East European counterparts, the newly independent Central Asian countries have witnessed the emergence of highly authoritarian regimes, maintaining a consistent democracy rating of 12.5 for both 1995 and 2000. In contrast, the democracy rating in East Asia has dramatically improved from 11.0 in 1975 to 7.0 in 2000. Anchored by a democratic Japan, this subregion has seen the emergence of democracy in Mongolia and the further consolidation of democratic practices in South Korea and Taiwan. The two remaining Asian subregions have maintained relatively stable averages between the two extremes of Central and East Asia. Led by a democratic India, South Asia as of 2000 maintained a democratic rating of 8.7; Southeast Asia, which includes a democratic Philippines, as of 2000 had a poorer rating of 10.1.

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An International Community of Democracies

Table 1.2

Degree of Democratization in Asia (democracy scores, by subregion, 1975–2000) 1975

1985

1995

2000

Central Asia

13.0

14.0

12.5

12.5

East Asia

11.0

10.2

7.7

7.0

8.9

8.3

9.3

8.7

Southeast Asia

10.8

10.9

11.0

10.1

Total (Asia)

10.4

10.1

10.2

9.6

South Asia

Source: Freedom House website: http://www.freedomhouse.org Scale: 2 (most democratic)–14 (least democratic) Free (democratic) 2–5 Partly free (partially democratic) 6–10 Not free (authoritarian) 11–14

The Middle East is the only region that remains largely insulated from the global spread of democracy. Although the emergence of younger, reform-minded leaders such as Morocco’s King Muhammad VI and Jordan’s King Abdallah II has generated optimism, the Middle East largely remains governed by authoritarian regimes. The region as a whole achieved a dismal democracy rating of 11.0 in both 1975 and 2000 (see also Sivan, 2000). In sharp contrast to the Western Hemisphere where only one country (Cuba) can be labeled authoritarian, in the Middle East only one country (Israel) can be labeled democratic. And even this characterization is often disputed due to continued deadlock over the creation of a Palestinian state, which in turn has fostered a recurring cycle of Palestinian uprisings and heavy-handed Israeli government responses. The global spread of democracy is most vividly portrayed by simply charting the evolution of the total number of democracies that exist within the international system (see Table 1.3). Since the beginning of the third wave of democratization, this figure has increased from 27 percent in 1975 to 44 percent in 2000. If one also includes semidemocratic countries, the totals for the democratic world increase from 58 percent to 74 percent during this same period. The regional totals as of 2000 are especially striking: 100 percent of all the countries within two regions—Western Europe and Oceania—enjoy some form of democracy, closely followed by 97 percent of all countries within the Western Hemisphere, 95 percent of all within Eastern Europe, and 63 percent within Africa. Only in Asia and the Middle East has the percentage of countries that enjoy some form of democracy declined, with Asia’s total for 2000 nonetheless remaining at a respectable 45 percent. These regional differences notwithstanding, there is no doubt

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Exporting Democracy

Table 1.3

Percentages of Democracies and Semidemocracies (by region, 1975– 2000) 1975

Africa Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total Asia Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total Eastern Europe Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total Middle East Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total Oceania Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total Western Europe Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total Western Hemisphere Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total Global (all regions) Democracies Semidemocracies Democratic total

1985

1995

2000

7% 35 42

4% 17 21

19% 39 58

17% 46 63

8 40 48

8 50 58

10 38 48

24 21 45

0 0 0

0 11 11

43 43 86

52 43 95

5 32 37

5 53 58

5 16 21

5 21 26

71 29 100

73 27 100

79 21 100

79 21 100

86 14 100

90 10 100

96 4 100

96 4 100

38 41 79

66 23 89

54 43 97

63 34 97

27% 31 58

33% 27 60

40% 32 72

44% 30 74

Source: Freedom House website: http://www.freedomhouse.org

that at the beginning of the twenty-first century democracy has emerged as the dominant form of governance within the international system.

The Internal-External Debate An important outcome of the global spread of democracy during the last quarter of the twentieth century is that scholars and practitioners alike are increasingly prone to speak of democracy as a “universal value” whose “roots” can be nurtured in all regions of the world regardless of culture

An International Community of Democracies

7

(Sen, 1999; see also Danford, 2000). As a result, discussions within both the academic and the policymaking worlds have gradually shifted from a Cold-War focus on whether democracy constitutes the best form of governance, to whether and to what degree state and non-state actors should be actively involved in democracy promotion efforts abroad. A critical aspect of these discussions is our evolving understanding of the relative importance of domestic versus international factors in promoting democracy’s spread. The traditional scholarly consensus concerning this “internal-external” debate is that domestic factors are decisive in any transition to and consolidation of democracy. Such analyses at best neglect the importance of international factors and in the extreme argue that they exert little if any influence. It should therefore come as no surprise that the overwhelming majority of the scholarly literature devoted to understanding the third wave of democratization has emphasized a wide variety of domestic factors, most notably the degree of unity among ruling elites or opposition movements, the vibrancy of civil society, the receptivity of political culture, the degree of state control, and the strength of the national economy (O’Donnell, Schmitter, and Whitehead, 1986; Diamond, Linz, and Lipset, 1989; Diamond, 1993; Przeworski, 1995; Linz and Stepan, 1996). With the benefit of more than a quarter century of hindsight, scholars increasingly have argued in favor of reexamining the neglected international dimension of democracy promotion. Philippe C. Schmitter, one of the most noted scholars associated with the so-called transitions literature that emphasized the overriding importance of the internal dimension of democratization, constitutes part of this new body of scholarship. “Perhaps, it is time to reconsider the impact of the international context upon regime change,” explains Schmitter (1996: 27–28). “Without seeking to elevate it to the status of prime mover, could it not be more significant than was originally thought?” Schmitter’s reassessment, as well as that of several of his colleagues within the transitions literature, is based on a retrospective analysis that often underscores an important difference between the initial transitions that took place in Southern Europe and Latin America between 1974 and 1989, and those that took place in Eastern Europe and Africa beginning in 1989. According to this viewpoint, the transitions that have taken place in the post–Cold War era on average may have been more influenced by international phenomena, most notably the fall of the Berlin Wall and the ultimate demise and disintegration of the former Soviet Union. In the end, however, external factors remain secondary in such analyses. One of the most comprehensive reexaminations of the internal-external debate is provided by Laurence Whitehead, who points to three sets of international dynamics to argue that it can be “seriously misleading” to treat the international dimension of democracy promotion as “generally

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Exporting Democracy

secondary in importance” (Whitehead, 1996: 23). The most basic dynamic is the simple process of “contagion”—the extensive and unintentional spread of an idea within a given geographical region, due to the socioeconomic, political-military, or cultural similarities and channels that link its member states (Whitehead, 1996: 5–8; see also Starr, 1991; Walt, 2000; Kopstein and Reilly, 2000). The spread of the “national conference” model of democratic transition throughout Africa provides an important case in point. Under this scenario, a broad coalition of leaders from all sectors of society, including elders and the heads of women’s organizations, ethnic and religious leaders, labor and student activists, and ruling and opposition political leaders, holds an extended national gathering that serves as the basis for debating the outlines of a new democratic political order. In its ideal form, such a conference builds upon the traditional African concept of consensus building, in which every participant has the right to voice his/her opinion, and decisions are made only when agreed upon by all members present (unlike the more widespread Western concept of majority rule). The strong appeal of this model was primarily due to the dramatic success achieved in 1990 in Benin, where a 488-member national conference that lasted ten days fashioned one of the African continent’s most celebrated democracies from the ruins of nearly eighteen years of dictatorial rule (Nzouankeu, 1993). Benin’s success not only inspired the emergence of national conferences in other francophone African countries but has become one of the hallmarks of democratic transition throughout the African continent as a whole (see Robinson, 1994; Clark and Gardinier, 1997). A second international dynamic revolves around how explicit acts of intervention by a foreign power can result in the successful imposition of some form of democracy within another country (Whitehead, 1996: 8–15). The often-cited classic cases emerged in the immediate aftermath of World War II, when the victorious Allies imposed democratic forms of governance on the defeated Axis powers of Germany (Ginsberg, 1996) and Japan (Hoffman, 1996). Together these two countries, which constitute the second and third most economically powerful democracies within the contemporary international system, offer living proof of the democratic gains that can be achieved through a wide range of interventionist practices, discussed further below. Indeed, according to Whitehead’s calculations, roughly twothirds of the sixty-one democracies that existed at the beginning of the 1990s “owed their origins, at least in part, to deliberate acts of imposition or intervention from without” (1996: 9). A final international dynamic involves the promotion of democracy through “consent” and examines the complex interaction between international and domestic actors that “generates new democratic norms and expectations from below” (Schmitter, 1996: 30). According to this perspec-

An International Community of Democracies

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tive, foreign influences provide an international context that can either facilitate or hinder the development of democratic practices within a given country. A noteworthy example is the European Union’s requirement that aspiring countries must embody a certain level of democratic standards before being considered for membership. This requirement has provided a powerful incentive for countries, perhaps more interested in the presumed economic benefits of EU membership, to refashion their political systems in a more democratic direction (Rupnik, 2000). These three sets of literature clearly underscore the value of further exploring the circumstances under which international influences play a decisive role in the transition to and consolidation of democracy. Although witnessing important gains throughout the 1990s, the literature on international democracy promotion nonetheless still pales in comparison to the voluminous literature on the domestic origins of democracy, and in any case it suffers from two major shortcomings: an emphasis on the democracy promotion efforts of individual countries, most notably the United States as the world’s most powerful and influential democracy (Muravchik, 1992; Smith, 1994; and Carothers, 1996, 1999), and an emphasis on the democracy promotion efforts directed against individual regions, such as Eastern Europe (Dawisha, 1997; Pridham, Herring, and Sanford, 1997). Even the most comprehensive study to date (Whitehead, 1996) constitutes an edited volume of case studies largely focused on Southern Europe (3 chapters) and Latin America (7 chapters), with little attention to Eastern Europe (1 chapter) and no case studies on Africa. The limited focus of these studies hinders our ability to apply conclusions across the entire range of democracy promoters, as well as the regions that are the targets of democracy promotion efforts.

Overview This book offers an analysis of the efforts of numerous state and non-state international actors to promote democracy in all regions of the world during the post–World War II era, with a special focus on the post–Cold War era (1989–present). Individual chapters are written by members of an international research team comprised of European and North American scholars who have collaborated since the project was first launched in 1996. An important conclusion of this book is that the future success of democracy promotion efforts is potentially constrained by several realities, ranging from the often-significant gap between the rhetoric and the reality of actual policies, to the more substantial dilemma of when the normative goal of democracy clashes with other foreign policy interests. The remainder of the book is divided into three major sections. The

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Exporting Democracy

first is devoted to exploring the assumptions that drive the democracy promotion efforts of state and non-state actors within the international system. Charles W. Kegley, Jr., and Margaret G. Hermann in Chapter 2 explore the widespread belief that the spread of democracy will lead to a more peaceful international system—the so-called democratic-peace hypothesis. Juliet Johnson in Chapter 3 explores the equally extensive belief that the spread of democracy will lead to a more prosperous international system, most notably in promoting economic growth and free trade. In both cases, the scholars offer a critical assessment of the existing empirical literature. Part 2 explores the democracy promotion efforts of several northern industrialized democracies: the Nordic countries (treated together as one case in Chapter 4); Germany (Chapter 5); Japan (Chapter 6); and the United States (Chapter 7). Each of these chapters is written by a scholar who is both from and a specialist of the country or region under consideration: Liisa Laakso is from Finland, Jürgen Rüland and Nikolaus Werz are from Germany, Tsuneo Akaha is from Japan, and Steven W. Hook is from the United States. As a result, each scholar is firmly grounded in the democratic cultures, scholarly traditions, and national languages of the respective case studies. Part 3 examines the democracy promotion efforts of several multilateral and nongovernmental organizations, including the European Union (Chapter 8), the United Nations (Chapter 9), the World Bank (Chapter 10), and political foundations and think tanks (Chapter 11). These chapters were prepared by four scholars (two Europeans and two Americans) who are specialists of the institutions under examination: Gorm Rye Olsen (the European Union), Christopher C. Joyner (the United Nations), Béatrice Hibou (the World Bank), and James M. Scott (political foundations and think tanks). These case studies, together with those devoted to the activities of the northern industrialized democracies, are meant to be not exhaustive but rather representative of the myriad of international influences in democracy promotion efforts. A final chapter offers some general conclusions.

Notes 1. For an overview of the aims and critics of the Warsaw Conference, see “Democracy Holds a Party” (2000). 2. Consider, for example, Huntington’s early work on the relationship between political stability and political development during the Cold War (1968) and his more recent work on the role of culture in international conflict during the post–Cold War era (1996). Both books, as well as his work on the third wave of democratization, have generated a tremendous amount of scholarly debate. 3. Another often-utilized statistical source for examining democracy’s spread

An International Community of Democracies

11

is the “Polity” data set originated by Ted Robert Gurr and updated by Keith Jaggers. The democracy trends derivative of this data source are highly correlated with the Freedom House figures. For an analysis of the correlation between the democratization scores of these and other data sets, see Jaggers and Gurr (1995: 473–476). 4. The statistics detailing regional trends in the tables of this book vary slightly from the regional trends outlined by Freedom House due to the inclusion (or noninclusion) of certain countries in specific regions and the use of a slightly different scale to distinguish between “partly free” and “not free” countries (see Tables 1.1–1.3).

PART 1

PROMOTING DEMOCRACY: EXPLORING THE RATIONALES

2 In Pursuit of a Peaceful International System Charles W. Kegley, Jr., and Margaret G. Hermann

M

uch research has shown that wars or even military conflicts short of war are nonexistent or very rare among democracies (Gleditsch, 1992: 369–370; see also Ray, 1995a; Rummel, 1995; Russett, 1993, 1995a, 1998). This fact has been grasped by policymakers of the northern industrialized democracies in search of a principle to undergird their national security policies in the wake of the Cold War. For example, the Group of Eight (G-8) has made the promotion of democracy a key feature of its blueprint for a twenty-first-century peace. Inspired in part by the rapid diffusion of democratic governance since the 1980s (see Jaggers and Gurr, 1995; also Karatnychy and Cashdan, 1997; Starr, 1995), the northern industrialized democracies have all predicated their security policies on the belief that a world composed exclusively of democratic states would be a peaceful world. This chapter reviews and synthesizes the theory and evidence that has led these democracies to take seriously the Kantian and Wilsonian belief that the types of governments in a system can have an important impact on the incidence of war. In addition to outlining how these powers rationalize their enthusiastic embrace of peace through democratization, we evaluate the practicality of this approach for international security.

Democracies’ Peaceful Interactions The firm belief of northern policymakers that there are foreign policy consequences of democratization derives in large measure from academic scholarship suggesting that the international behavior of democratic states is different from that of nondemocracies. In contrast to research on dictatorships and autocracies (Schweller, 1992: 249; see also Lake, 1992, and compare Gleditsch and Ward, 1997; Weart, 1994), cross-national studies of foreign policies within the liberal democratic community have shown that 15

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its members consistently choose cooperative exchanges with one another over confrontation and conflict. An inventory of comparative research findings as well as the claims of liberal theorists indicates that the following characterize the interactions of countries whose leaders rule by consent of the governed: • An inclination to externalize internally developed norms (Maoz and Russett, 1993; Gowa, 1995); • Incorporation of liberal beliefs into international legal norms (Burley, 1994; Joyner, 1995); • Respect for international law (Christopher, 1995: 1); • Higher levels of support for creating multilateral institutions and international organizations to address shared problems and which themselves are governed by democratic principles (Sørensen, 1992; Halperin, 1993; Dixon, 1993, 1994; Crawford, 1994; Weiss, Forsythe, and Coate, 1994; Gaubatz, 1996; Risse-Kappen, 1995a; Rochester, 1995; Oneal and Russett, 1999; Russett and Oneal, 2000); • Greater willingness to rely on third-party arbitration and mediation to settle disputes (Dixon, 1993, 1994; Raymond, 1994; Gowa, 1995); • Greater capacity to terminate rivalries (Bennett, 1997); • More rapid rates of alliance formation for collective defense (Siverson and Emmons, 1991; Maoz and Russett, 1992; Dixon, 1994; Weart, 1994); • Less inclination to disregard alliance commitments when changing circumstances decrease the benefits of existing defense pacts to the allied democracies (Kegley and Raymond, 1990, 1994); • Greater willingness to negotiate arms reduction agreements (Johansen, 1995); • A capacity for and interest in limiting the severity of violence when faced with an international crisis (Hewitt and Wilkenfeld, 1996); • Greater ability to contain conflicts over economic exchanges (Brawley, 1993; Polachek, 1994; Oneal, Oneal, Maoz, and Russett, 1996); • Higher levels of support for humanitarian foreign assistance programs (Hook, 1995; Hook, Kegley, and Hermann, 1995). The propensities of democracies to cooperate with one another is a critical component of the newly fashionable “neoliberal” creed in general (Baldwin, 1993; Kegley, 1995) and democratic-peace theory in particular. Both depart from realism by highlighting “the domestic aspects of democracies as determinants of their foreign policies” (Hallenberg, 1994: 149).

A Peaceful International System

17

The emerging consensus stems from the conviction that democratic institutions and liberal norms predispose elected governments to behave differently with one another in the international arena than they do with autocracies. The popularity of these ideas among members of the liberal democratic community and major multilateral institutions emanates primarily from the core proposition that when conflicts arise between democracies, the parties will resolve them through compromised bargaining rather than resort to force. The theory presumes that democracy is “a near-perfect sufficient condition for peace” (Gleditsch, 1995b: 318; see also Rummel, 1995b). As the evidence shows, “Over the past 50 years, pairs of democratic states have been only one-eighth as likely as other kinds of states to use force against one another, and only one-tenth as likely to carry out these threats” (Russett, 1995b: 8). This very consistent record indicating that democracies almost never fight one another has increased faith in the theory and, in turn, today’s enthusiasm for the democratic-peace paradigm. Many liberals, inspired by democracies’ humanitarian values, have long advocated democratization to enhance civil liberties and improve the human condition within countries. They have embraced democratic reforms because of ethical principles as well as the demonstrated benefits that open systems of governance bring to such countries’ peoples—including prosperity, domestic stability, and the deterrence of civil war (Enterline, 1996; Garnham, 1986; Rummel, 1985) as well as the survival of their political leaders (Bueno de Mesquita and Siverson, 1995) and the governments they head (Bueno de Mesquita, Siverson, and Woller, 1992). But now, even more enthusiastically, liberals have focused their attention on democratization’s impact on relations between countries. Policymakers today are again finding persuasive the proposition of Immanuel Kant and Woodrow Wilson that when a dispute arises between democracies, their shared liberal norms and values and their open political institutions predispose each party to rely on negotiation rather than the use of force (Chan, 1997; Dixon, 1994; Gowa, 1995; Maoz and Russett, 1993; Raknerud and Hegre, 1997; Ray, 1993, 1995a; Rummel, 1995a; Russett, 1993). Alternatively stated, democratic leaders embrace the assumption that mere knowledge about the political system of a country with which they experience a dispute can permit them to predict the approach the adversary will choose (Risse-Kappen, 1995b). In particular, proponents of democratic-peace theory presume that a democratically governed regime will have a natural inclination to exert its influence at the bargaining table rather than on the battlefield. In reviewing the accumulated evidence regarding the use of force that is advanced by democratic-peace theory, we observe four types of conclusions. The first is that democracies differentiate between kinds of governments in their use of force. Democracies use military force and participate in both large and small wars against nondemocracies, but they rarely, if

18

Promoting Democracy

ever, wage major wars against each other (Chan, 1997; Hermann and Kegley, 1995; Kegley and Hermann, 1995a, 1996, 1997a; Mansfield and Snyder, 1995a, 1995b, 1996; Risse-Kappen, 1995b; Small and Singer, 1976; Weede, 1984, 1992; Wright, 1942). Regime type does not predict involvement in armed conflict very well, but it does suggest that different rules apply in democracies’ interactions with others like themselves than in their interactions with nondemocracies. A second conclusion focuses on the fact that conflicts of interest, which inevitably erupt between democratic states in frequent interaction with one another, are generally resolved peacefully, without escalating into large-scale military confrontation. Still, on occasion disputes between democracies have grown so intense that one or more of the parties have sought to exercise influence through overt or covert military intervention (Forsythe, 1992; James and Mitchell, 1995; Kegley and Hermann, 1995a, 1995b) or a show of force (Farber and Gowa, 1995a). Intervention seems especially likely in such circumstances when democratic leaders face strong domestic opposition (Ostrom and Job, 1986; Russett, 1989; Alastair Smith, 1996). A third conclusion centers around the crisis-management skills of democracies; their overt military interventions against one another have all been contained short of full-scale war, denoting somewhat developed capabilities to cope with such conflicts (Gowa, 1995; Hagan, 1994; Hewitt and Wilkenfeld, 1996; Siverson and Miller, 1993). We have already noted that democracies are more likely to seek third-party mediation and arbitration to settle disputes as well as to participate in international regimes and multilateral institutions to head off problems before they become inflammatory. A fourth conclusion is based on the finding that democratic countries are infrequently attacked by either other democratic or nondemocratic countries—the rate during the last twenty-five years is far less than that targeted at nondemocracies and less than would be predicted given the proportion of democracies in the international system (Hermann and Kegley, 1996). This result instills confidence in the primary postulate of democratic-peace theory that how a state is governed will strongly influence both its foreign conduct and its national security. In a phrase, ballots act as a barrier to the use of bullets and, especially, bombs by others. The protective shield that appears to exist for established democracies is not as applicable to states that are less stable and less accountable to their populace, or to fledgling democracies. Adversaries cannot safely predict whether states that have not yet made the transition into the stable liberal democratic community and incorporated its norms, values, and institutions will use cooperative or coercive tactics. Thus, when a conflict erupts with such a transitional democracy, how the states involved are likely to react is less certain. Preemptive military intervention becomes more tempting and

A Peaceful International System

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probable against such regimes, especially if the perceived threat from them is strong (Blainey, 1988; Enterline, 1996; Kegley and Hermann, 1996, 1997a) or if their democratic foundations are fragile (Gates, Knutsen, and Moses, 1996; Spiro, 1994). But transitional democracies may also become aggressive if their governmental structures and democratic institutions are weak, as their leaders seek to consolidate authority (Mansfield and Snyder, 1995a, 1995b, 1996). The logic underlying democratic-peace theory acknowledges that liberal democracies may feel justified in militarily confronting autocratically governed countries whose rulers are believed to favor strategies that maximize their own power and repress their citizens’ freedoms. Democracies have, as Immanuel Kant (1969 [1795]) warned, a penchant for acting belligerently against autocratic governments, even to wage imperialistic wars against them, largely because democratic leaders can gain domestic political capital through military intervention against an authoritarian state. Flexing one’s muscle against a centralized polity is easily rationalized, and this rationale can become compelling to democracies if the action might convert nondemocracies to democratic rule and thus enlarge the zone of peace. Summarizing the literature, Thomas Risse-Kappen (1995b: 491; see also Hermann and Kegley, 1995, 1996) offers a useful conclusion about what is known regarding the external behavior of democracies, observing: Democracies are Janus-faced. While they do not fight each other, they are frequently involved in militarized disputes and wars with authoritarian regimes . . . To a large degree democracies create their friends and enemies—“us” and “them”—by inferring either defensive or aggressive motives from the domestic structures of their counterparts. On the one hand, they follow behavioral norms externalizing their internal compromise-oriented and non-violent decision rules in their interactions with other democracies. On the other hand, the presumption of potential enmity creates a realist world of anarchy when democratic states interact with authoritarian regimes.

Considered as a body of theory and evidence, the emerging “democratic peace” proposes the export of democratic institutions as an approach to cementing peace among democratic states throughout the world, and its advocates have begun efforts to legalize such export. The classic prohibition against external intervention into the internal affairs of sovereign states, particularly to reform governing institutions, is in decay and revision (Blechman, 1995; von Glahn, 1996; Kegley and Raymond, 2001), in no small measure as a result of changes in international law advocated by the established democracies (Blechman, 1995; Hermann, Kegley, and Raymond, 1995). Perceiving the right to live under democratic freedom as

20

Promoting Democracy

an “entitlement” or basic human right (Franck, 1994), the existing democracies have launched a global “democratist crusade” (Hendrickson, 1994– 1995) aimed at converting the entire set of more than 190 sovereign states to democratic governance. Similarly, faith in the pacifying effects of democratization has stimulated multilateral assistance and funding agencies such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank to make nondemocratic states’ willingness to undertake democratic reforms a condition for aid. Such organizations as the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), the European Union (EU), and the Organization of American States (OAS) have begun to define foreign interventions to promote democratization as legitimate, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) has sought to enlarge its membership providing that candidates for inclusion in the East under the Partnerships for Peace plan can demonstrate that their commitment to democratization is sincere and irreversible. The sea change in thinking symbolized by the activities of the crusade for democratization rests on the validity of the research findings in the democratic-peace literature that have inspired them. And there seem to be many reasons to treat the findings as meaningful, even though they appear contingent on the definitions of armed conflict and democracy used (Chan, 1997). Yet on the whole the theory has been substantiated across many investigations, which have examined not only intervention but displays of force, threats to use force, and military acts short of war. Although the studies have found some cases in which democracies have used these tactics against other democracies (Bremer, 1992, 1993; Bueno de Mesquita and Lalman, 1992; Forsythe, 1992; Mansfield and Snyder, 1996; Maoz and Russett, 1992; Weede, 1992), the data lend substantial support to the democratic-peace proposition. The theory is as robust as any in international relations. “The way states treat their own citizens has implications for the way they relate to the outside world” (Fukuyama, 1995a: 41) and how the external world acts toward them. The discovery that the political structure of countries matters exerts pressure to treat with respect the view that a country’s capacity to deter attack can be increased by liberal reforms in its governing institutions and political freedoms. As proponents of the democratic peace argue, elections and checks and balances can contribute to a nation’s defense, and international security generally can increase through the diffusion of democratic governance. The inferred lessons from the peaceful influences of democratization are particularly relevant to the developing world. As these countries seek to buffer themselves from foreign attack and internal rebellion, they can find a partial solution to their security problems in the kinds of governing structures they create. Democratization can, recent history suggests, provide

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protection from external aggression; however, the commitment to liberal democracy must be sincere for this protective shield to operate. Fledgling democracies and those ambivalent about civil liberties are the most vulnerable to external attack, civil strife, and aggressive adventures (Enterline, 1996; Gurr, 1994; Kegley and Hermann, 1997b; Mansfield and Snyder, 1995b, 1996), in part because democracies protect the right of protest and dissent. Between 1989 and 1994 all but four of the global ninety-two wars were internal wars, not wars between countries, and most were located in the developing world where the democratization process has been delayed and partial (Wallensteen and Sollenberg, 1995). The record also indicates that these fledgling democracies and, of course, the remaining autocracies will be the most probable targets of outside military intervention and the most unlikely to escape the war syndrome until democratic reforms are successfully completed and become sustained. Hence, if the developing world wants peace, leaders there have powerful incentives both to create and support democratic institutions. To understand why this prescription has potential merit, we need to examine the puzzle confronting democratic-peace theory—the reasons why democratic countries’ relations with one another are pacific. Before faith can be placed in the enlargement of democracy as a recipe for peace, the basis for the prescription must be satisfactorily understood. What factors account for democracies’ peaceful relations with each other?

In Search of Causation: The Pieces in the Puzzle Skeptics of democratic-peace theory—especially realists and neorealists— complain that before accepting its liberal prophecy, policymakers should recognize that the existing evidence and theory do not tell us why democracies behave peacefully and which aspects of democratic governance most increase a state’s invulnerability. If democracy is a panacea, then its proponents must articulate why democratization can produce more peaceful foreign relations. What properties of a democratic target most inhibit others from using military force against it? In addition, skeptics ask, what influences most deter democracies from using force against other democracies? Which attributes enhance democracies’ security while decreasing that of nondemocracies? As critics (e.g., Layne, 1994; Spiro, 1994) and skeptics (e.g., Cohen, 1994; Gates, Knutsen, and Moses, 1996; Thompson, 1996) have argued, these are unresolved questions that need to be addressed. Even advocates of democratic-peace theory (Owen, 1994: 88) have observed: “No one is sure why democracies do not fight each other . . . That we do not really know the causal mechanism behind the democratic peace means we cannot be certain the peace is genuine.”

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Promoting Democracy

In what follows we summarize the existing literature that has attempted to account for the causes of the zone of peace among democratic states and posit some propositions about the roots of democracies’ peaceful relationships that previous research has heretofore neglected. At issue is why democracies’ interactions are relatively more peaceful than those of nondemocracies, as well as why the former are also relatively more secure. The Peace Puzzle To probe the causes of the democratic peace, contemporary research often takes as its starting point the proposition that public opinion restrains leaders in democratic states from waging war. Because democratic governments establish the right of suffrage for citizens to hold elected leaders accountable for their decisions, many scholars proceed from the assumption that the power of the people best accounts for the reluctance of republican regimes to use force to settle disputes with one another. According to conventional wisdom, empowerment through the ballot gives the mass public—which would supply the soldiers and bear the human and financial costs of foreign aggression—the ability to reduce leaders’ incentives for waging war. Those doing this type of research implicitly accept Kant’s view that electoral accountability provides a natural barrier in democracies to a leader’s temptation to use force. Moreover, these researchers usually argue that the political culture of democratic states includes norms against aggression as a method of conflict resolution, which are reinforced through institutional procedures. Given these expectations, the assumption is made that in democracies public opinion operates to constrain the waging of war against other democracies. Yet many studies have failed to establish a strong correlation between mass opinion and foreign policy choice (e.g., Page, 1994; Stimson, MacKuen, and Erikson, 1994). In the short run, policymakers seem highly inattentive and impervious to the pressure of public opinion (Cohen, 1973) and often succeed in manipulating it in the realm of foreign policy (Margolis and Mauser, 1989). Rather than being constrained and held accountable to public preferences, somewhat counterintuitively it has been empirically shown that a leader’s likelihood of using force abroad “increases under decreasing public support, rather than under increasing popularity” (Geva, DeRouen, and Mintz, 1993: 220). Thus the alleged restraint of public opinion on foreign bellicosity, evidence shows, is not powerful. Moreover, the public is not inherently adverse to the death and hardship of war. At times mass hysteria and hypernationalism heightened by press jingoism have encouraged democratically ruled states to wage foreign wars, especially when democracies experience high levels of domestic dis-

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content (Morgan and Bickers, 1992). As realists such as George F. Kennan (1951) and Hans J. Morgenthau (1985) have vociferously lamented, by placing our hopes in the wisdom of the democratically governed, we may see them dashed in the “unsound . . . theory of peace-loving democracies” (Mearsheimer, 1990: 49). In attempting to find a more convincing explanation, researchers have turned away from the view that participatory democracy automatically makes leaders responsive to pacific public preferences and restrains their use of force abroad. In accounting for democracies’ peaceful relations, such researchers have shifted their analysis to a larger set of explanatory factors. Potential explanations have centered around arguments nested within three general categories of variables, each of which is farther removed from the locus of decisionmaking and at a different level of analysis. These categories are: • Institutional variables: divided authority (Lake, 1992; Morgan and Schwebach, 1992); domestic opposition (Bueno de Mesquita and Lalman, 1990); routinized elections (Babst, 1964; Wright, 1942); partisan competition (Morgan and Schwebach, 1992); constitutional and institutional limits on the latitude of rulers’ decisions (Farber and Gowa, 1995b; Gowa, 1995; Manicas, 1989; Morgan and Campbell, 1991; Rummel, 1979, 1983; Siverson, 1995); and electoral accountability (Maoz and Abdolali, 1989; Ostrom and Job, 1986; Russett, 1989); • Societal attributes: consensus in public opinion (Doyle, 1994; Risse-Kappen, 1991; Russett, 1990, 1993; Schweller, 1992); normative values externalized in foreign relations (Maoz and Russett, 1993; Morgan and Schwebach, 1992; Rummel, 1979, 1983); level of mass political participation (Ember, Ember, and Russett, 1992); the duration of uninterrupted democratic rule (Mansfield and Snyder, 1995b; Maoz and Russett, 1992, 1993); and the degree of internal stability and economic prosperity (Gasiorowski, 1995; Maoz and Russett, 1992, 1993; Morgan and Schwebach, 1992; Ostrom and Job, 1986; Russett, 1989; Schweller, 1992); • International forces: trade interdependence (Dixon, 1984; Dixon and Moon, 1993); commitment to alliance ties (Dixon, 1994; Maoz and Russett, 1992); willingness to empower mediators and arbitrators (Dixon, 1994; Raymond, 1994); proportion of democracies in system (Ray, 1993, 1995a, 1995b; Small and Singer, 1976); geographical proximity (Dixon, 1994; Gleditsch, 1995; Gleditsch and Ward, 1997; Maoz and Russett, 1992); ratio of military power between disputing “joint democracy” dyads (Gleditsch, 1995; Maoz

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and Russett, 1993; Rousseau, Gelpi, Reiter, and Huth, 1996); and history of prior cooperation (Dixon, 1994; Risse-Kappen, 1995b; Small and Singer, 1976). Yet even with this consideration of an ever-larger number of causal factors, many scholars regard the explanations and descriptions generated as less than compelling or convincing (see, e.g., Chan, 1993, 1997; Gleditsch, 1992; Morgan and Schwebach, 1992; and, of course, those writing from realist and neorealist perspectives). As Patrick James and Glenn Mitchell (1995: 87) conclude, “None of the three arguments provides a convincing argument of why democracies do not fight each other.” “Only one conclusion,” Clifton Morgan and Sally Campbell (1991: 210) summarize, “seems to be definitely supported: ‘Democracy does not appear to be a force for peace in any straightforward, uniform, or consistent fashion.’” Debate continues about the origins of the democratic peace (e.g., Chan, 1997; The Economist, 1995; Layne, 1994; Moravcsik, 1995; Owen, 1994; Russett, 1995a, 1995b; Starr, 1992). The Limitations of Existing Models The explanations proposed in previous research on the genesis of the democratic peace have one property in common: they neglect consideration of the people involved in making policy decisions. This absence of attention to the type of leader in power is of particular concern because most explanations of the democratic peace at some point acknowledge that the officials involved make the critical decisions regarding war and peace. Even though researchers stress that the “high politics” of national security is managed by leaders at the top of their countries’ foreign policy bureaucracies, students of the democratic peace rarely directly investigate the beliefs of these leaders. As Bruce Russett (1993: 31) summarizes, most scholars simply assume that “if people in a democracy perceive themselves as autonomous, self-governing people who share norms of live-and-let-live, they will respect the rights of others to self-determination if those others are also perceived as self-governing and hence not easily led into aggressive foreign policies by a self-serving elite.” In point of fact, evidence has not yet been produced that leaders actually base their decisions on a democratic “operational code” (George, 1969) or “decision regime” (Kegley, 1987). Such evidence is needed, inasmuch as “differences in regime type may have little to do with the foreign policy process because the very nature of the . . . process makes it more elitedriven and closed to social input” (Merritt and Zinnes, 1991: 230; see also Hermann and Hermann, 1989; Hermann and Kegley, 1995; Oren, 1995; Owen, 1994; Risse-Kappen, 1995b). This policy latitude is particularly

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apparent in political crises. In circumstances where time for decision is often short, elites can govern without restraint and, whether functioning in a democracy or a dictatorship, disregard constraints that might otherwise restrict their range of policy choice. How these elites perceive and define constraints and what they expect from their adversary can shape the decisions they urge on their governments. In another study (Hermann and Kegley, 1995), the authors have posited that the type of leader interacts with polity type in determining how democracies and autocracies will act in response to conflict. We have argued that it matters if a government is headed by a “crusader” or a “pragmatist” (Stoessinger, 1985). The more ideological the leader, the more willing he or she is to perceive constraints as something to overcome, to challenge; the more pragmatic the leader, the more responsive he or she is to constraints. The ideologically driven leader, whether in a democracy or autocracy, faces crises with a particular set of policy priorities; the responsive leader is sensitive to the political context. Table 2.1 shows how type of leader and polity type might interact in shaping the strategies governments use in dealing with conflicts. Thus a democratic regime with an ideologically driven leader could act more like an autocracy, engaging in covert and diversionary activities that involve the use of force. And an autocratic polity with a contextually sensitive leader could act more like a democracy, being bound by the constraints in the situation and responsive to the choices of politically relevant others. We note Ronald Reagan as an example of a more ideologically driven democratic leader who, when his policies were blocked by Congress or strong public opinion, challenged these constraints by turning to covert actions. Reagan engaged in eighteen covert operations during his tenure in office, half of which were targeted at elected governments (Kegley and Hermann, 1995a). Leonid Brezhnev has often been described as a leader who sought a consensus among the members of the Soviet Politburo before acting even though he had the power and status to do so on his own (e.g., see Snyder, 1991; Valenta, 1979); he was a more responsive leader in an autocratic regime. He used force only when the majority of those whose positions counted in maintaining him in office supported such a move. The more ideologically driven democratic leader is more likely to support and promote democratization, particularly if he or she has accepted the democratic-peace proposition that a world of democracies will be a more peaceful place. Democratization is viewed as a “good,” and thus interventions to promote or maintain democracy are means to an important end. For such leaders, maintaining the democratic community is as important as its enlargement (Kegley and Hermann, 1997b). If a country is viewed as being even somewhat democratic, it becomes a part of the community and an object for protection. The more pragmatic democratic leaders will generally

26 Table 2.1

Promoting Democracy

Effect of Type of Leader and Political System on Strategies for Dealing with Conflict Type of Political System

Type of Leader

DEMOCRACY

AUTOCRACY

RESPONSIVE Perception of constraint

Perceives behavior to be Perceives leadership is constrained constrained; checks preferences of by preferences of elites who can a range of constituencies interested affect continuation in office in current issue before acting

Strategy for dealing with conflict

Responds to positions of relevant constituencies

Engages in external conflict only when important elites support decision

IDEOLOGICALLY DRIVEN Perception of constraint

Perceives constraint as something to be overcome; frustrated by limitations on power

Strategy for dealing Approves increased use of with conflict secrecy/covert activity and diversionary actions

Perceives others share view of world and current issues as well as support what leader wants to do Engages in both highly conflictual and cooperative actions, depending on leader’s perception of the nature of the target and his/her view of the world

only choose interventionist strategies if their relevant constituencies support such a move. This review of theory and of the inferences derived from recent research suggests that the idiosyncratic characteristics of leaders need to be incorporated into subsequent thinking about the link between democracies and peace. As with the explanations at the other levels of analysis, it is important to contextualize our understandings. After all, democracies can be differentiated into those that are presidential and those that are parliamentary, as well as those that are stable and unstable, well established and not well established, internally coherent and less coherent, more and less developed, and more and less constrained. Rather than looking for one explanation, maybe we should be considering how the various factors interact to reinforce or dampen the attribution of democracy to the regime. Which of the explanatory variables enhances others’ views that a state is a democracy and which detract from such a view? Building on this brief review of the possible causes for the democratic peace, let us give direction to subsequent investigations by suggesting some ways researchers might

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strengthen our understanding of the preconditions for promoting and preserving a separate peace among democracies.

Conclusion Since antiquity, humanity has sought solutions for the curse of war. The quest has proven largely elusive, as war has been recurrent and periods of peace have been infrequent and short. Adherents of realpolitik have pessimistically concluded that the dream of ending warfare is quixotic—that only the dead will see the end of war. They counsel that the only realistic hope is for countries to contain the size and destructiveness of wars through the operation of a balance of power, and that international anarchy makes imperative adherence to the dictum that if a state wants peace, it must prepare for war. Observing the dismal regularity with which previous balances of power have culminated in death and destruction, liberal reformers have questioned the wisdom of realism’s recipe. Believing in the capacity for international change and cooperation as substitutes for competition and conflict, liberals propose to foil the war system by changing the institutions that make foreign policy decisions. Although the liberal tradition is eclectic (see Kegley, 1995), at its heart is the conviction that to obtain peace it is prudent to prepare institutions to keep the peace. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, these two attitudes have merged to create a new approach to international security. Democraticpeace theory joins realism’s obsession with national security with liberalism’s focus on institutional reform. Peace, this merged theoretical position postulates, will result from the enlargement of the community of liberal democratic states; the global diffusion of democracy will expand the zone of stable peace because, it is averred, strengthening the institutional pillars of democracy within states has historically deterred the outbreak of war between states. Realists such as Henry Kissinger (1994) and Richard Nixon (1994) have embraced the liberal idealism of Immanuel Kant, Thomas Paine, James Madison, Thomas Jefferson, and Woodrow Wilson by accepting the prophecy that the prospects for international peace will greatly improve as the number of states practicing popular self-government grows. National and international security will flourish, converts to democraticpeace theory conclude, if governments actively preserve, promote, and defend democratic governance beyond their borders and throughout the world. At the beginning of a new century, policymakers have strong reasons for following this prescription. The evidence is very strong that if democra-

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tization continues to spread, international security will also increase. To those prescribing an international crusade to make the world safe for democracy, the world will be safe if democratization’s third wave (Huntington, 1991; Jaggers and Gurr, 1995) is followed by a fourth wave that washes away the remnants of despotism, tyranny, and dictatorship, as appears increasingly probable should the current trend toward democratic transitions continue (Karatnychy and Cashdan, 1997). In looking at the record and theoretical foundations of the democratic peace, however, the limitations of this approach also must be recognized. Inasmuch as questions remain about the causal processes that prevent democracies from waging war against each other, policymakers are well advised to consider the international and domestic circumstances that are likely to influence whether the “separate peace” among democracies will remain stable. Our inspection of the evidence generated thus far suggests that several preconditions must be present for democratic-peace theory to fulfill its boldest predictions. Moreover, because a number of intervening factors can modify the relationship between democratization and war, the linkage may prove more precarious than its most enthusiastic proponents claim. We can better see how the pieces fit together when we recall the situations where they do not mesh so neatly. As we have observed, • full-scale war between democracies is extremely rare; however, • democracies do wage wars against nondemocracies and are prone to initiate low-scale military interventions to influence the outcome of disputes, even against other democracies, if such behavior will maintain them in the democratic community; moreover, • peace among democracies seems confined to relations among established, stable, mature democracies in which respect for citizens’ civil, human, and political rights is firmly entrenched; fledgling and fragile democracies are often attacked and, at times, are inclined to use force to settle their domestic conflicts; in addition, • the perceptions, beliefs, and values of heads of state can shape the foreign policy choices of both democratically and nondemocratically ruled countries in times of crisis and can be crucial determinants of whether disputes will be settled by military means. The context of decisions is, therefore, likely to be a very important influence on the relationship between polities and peace. A stable democratic peace is likely to be contingent upon a variety of preconditions that define the parameters within which the promotion of democracy will prove to be a pragmatic approach to a just twenty-first-century world order. Given the instability and conflict that afflicts much of the developing world, it is critical to find solutions. Indifference is not an acceptable moral

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position (Kegley, 1996). As this chapter has argued, an attractive solution for peacemaking and peacekeeping worth considering is to build democratic institutions in those countries and failed states where the rudiments of a civil society are lacking. The developing world provides an opportunity to put the propositions of democratic-peace theory to a critical test.

3 In Pursuit of a Prosperous International System Juliet Johnson

L

ike the contention that democracies do not fight each other, a large majority of scholars have accepted the argument that states with strong, growing economies are, over time, more likely to become and remain democratic (see Remmer, 1995). But the flip side of this causal relationship remains more contentious and less studied. That is, what effect does political democracy itself have on economic development? An increasing number of policymakers in the northern industrialized democracies clearly have been operating on the assumption that promoting both democracy and liberal economic policies in the developing world are compatible and even complementary goals. In the case of the United States, for example, the Clinton administration consistently argued that policies supporting both democracy and free markets were mutually reinforcing, leading to greater overall prosperity and good trading relationships (Clinton, 1996; Davidow, 1997; Lake, 1996; Talbott, 1996; Christopher, 1996; Ruth, 1996). As Secretary of State Madeleine Albright declared in an address at Harvard University on the fiftieth anniversary of the Marshall Plan, “We must take advantage of the historic opportunity that now exists to bring the world together in an international system based on democracy, open markets, law, and a commitment to peace” (Albright, 1997). Indeed, the vast majority of foreign aid agencies in the northern industrialized democracies further note that democracy promotion policies are “based on the realistic premise that in today’s global market, open societies with democratic governance have the best chance to produce stable and equitable economic development” (Shattuck and Atwood, 1998: 168; see also USAID, 1997). The northern industrialized democracies promote democracy in the developing world in great part because northern policymakers assume that democracies are both better at promoting economic growth and development in the long run than are dictatorships, and better (or at least no worse) 31

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than dictatorships in carrying out short-term economic stabilization programs. The primary purpose of this chapter is to assess the veracity of these assumptions by briefly reviewing the theoretical and empirical evidence amassed by social scientists over the past few decades and then examining the implications of this assessment for democracy promotion in the developing world. Specifically, four presumed outcomes of democracy promotion are examined: enhanced economic growth, increased free trade, reduced inequality, and the promotion of economic stability. In short, the evidence does not strongly support these presumptions and in fact remains frustratingly inconclusive on both key points.

Democracy and Economic Growth Scholars remain bitterly divided on the question of the relationship between democracy and economic growth, a division often referred to as the “conflict” perspective versus the “compatibility” perspective (Huntington, 1987; Sirowy and Inkeles, 1991). Numerous scholars have maintained that democracy and economic growth progress naturally, over the long term, and therefore go hand in hand. Friedrich Hayek (1988), for example, believes that democracies better protect individual rights to private property and thus foster economic development. Theoretically, scholars who argue that political democracy leads to economic growth in developing countries argue that democracies help foster the political and civil liberties that lead to conditions under which the economy can develop in a balanced, healthy manner (Goodell and Powelson, 1982; Kohli, 1986b; Fukuyama, 1992). These liberties ensure that a free media will root out growth-sapping corruption; elections will make politicians accountable for sub-par economic performance; the rule of law will protect markets and contracts, making economic transactions safe and predictable; technology will flow freely; resources will be allocated efficiently (that is, without state interference); individuals will have the freedom to innovate economically; and the amount and quality of available economic information will be superior. Proponents of democracy argue further that it is not true, as is sometimes claimed, that democracies encourage internal conflict and thus act as a barrier to economic growth (Hibbs, 1973; Marsh 1979). In fact, democracy’s tendency to redistribute income and bias domestic spending toward consumption helps to improve economic functioning by widening markets and fostering the development of the all-important middle class. Authoritarian states, on the other hand, tend to be more corrupt and have distorted economies that tend toward gigantism and paternalism. This leads to unbalanced growth and especially harms state agricultural sectors. In

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addition, authoritarian states are actually more vulnerable to economic crises than democracies because often their legitimacy is based solely on economic performance (Huntington, 1991; Maravall, 1994). The fact that all of the world’s advanced industrial countries are democracies does seem to support this argument. Clearly, moreover, many authoritarian states have had serious economic growth problems. Jose Maria Maravall (1994), for example, notes the cases of Argentina, Burma, Brazil, the Central African Republic, the Democratic Republic of Congo (Congo-Kinshasa, former Zaire), Haiti, Nicaragua, Peru, the Philippines, Uganda, and Zambia. In addition, he points out that the terrible economic performances under communism in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union could have persisted so long only under authoritarian rule, because voters would not have stood for it. Maravall (1994: 26) sums up his evaluation by stating that “the case for democracy as a means to economic growth . . . rests on solid grounds.” The “Advantages” of Authoritarianism The belief that democracy threatens property rights (and therefore economic development) is also long-standing (Przeworski and Limongi, 1993; Knack and Keefer, 1997). As Adam Przeworski and Fernando Limongi (1993: 51) state: “While everyone seems to agree that secure property rights foster growth, it is controversial whether democracies or dictatorships better secure these rights.” Indeed, fear of the democratic mob was at the root of nineteenth-century suffrage restrictions reserving the vote for male property owners. In this view, capitalism and democracy rest on fundamentally incompatible principles. Whereas democracy enshrines the notion of equality into a nation’s political culture and institutions, capitalism operates on the ideal of competition and on the legitimacy of inequality. Empirically, scholars point out that because democracies must provide some level of economic progress to remain legitimate and survive, democracies with poor economies die off. Poorly performing dictatorships, though, can persist for years. As a result, the apparent correlation between democracy and economic growth, especially in advanced industrial democracies, is a spurious one (Lipset, 1959; Przeworski, 1991). According to this point of view, democratic regimes cannot carry out growth-oriented policies because their institutions are not strong enough to resist demands from labor and other interest groups. Too much freedom of speech, exercise of civil liberties, and so forth creates a cacophony of voices that makes it difficult to forge the consensus necessary for sustained development efforts. Authoritarian regimes therefore excel at promoting economic growth because they can provide social and political stability,

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can insulate the state from domestic pressures, have a greater political capacity to implement unpopular policies, can maintain firm control over labor markets, and have the power to allocate resources efficiently. Much theoretical economic research on the problems of collective action supports the contention that democracies are less likely than authoritarian states to foster economic efficiency and growth. In the most famous statement of this school, Mancur Olson (1982) argues that because of the paradox of collective action, stable, modern democratic societies are more likely than other kinds of societies to develop networks of interest groups that will foster their own private interests over collective interests and thus bring about national economic decline. This occurs because, as the logic of collective action dictates, the larger a group is, the less benefit each individual member will gain from group action and the greater the incentive will be for that individual to act as a free rider. Because of this, small groups have greater incentives for carrying out collective action and form more readily, but they are also more likely to lower societal efficiency and equity because members act primarily in their own narrow interests. Democracies allow such groups to form and to lobby without restraint. So the more stable and long-lived a democratic country is, the more of these groups will be able to accumulate and the less efficient their government and society will become over time as interest groups gum up the bargaining process, slow down the adoption of new technology, and try to exclude newcomers from participating in their activities. While Olson (1993) later modified this view in the face of evidence demonstrating that democracies protect private property rights more reliably than do dictatorships, Philippe Schmitter (1987) and Lester Thurow (1980) note that problems with governability and economic management commonly emerge in developed democracies, due to the wide variety of interest groups competing for access to government resources. Perhaps most important, some scholars argue that because dictatorships can favor investment policies over domestic consumption, they can continue intensifying economic development even in the face of levels of inequality and suffering unsustainable in democracies. As such, authoritarian states can concentrate more resources into investment than can democratic ones, yielding higher rates of economic growth. Those who argue that democracy impedes growth point out that because democracy indulges mass preferences for immediate consumption, investment levels remain lower than they would be under authoritarianism (Galenson, 1959; De Schweinitz, 1959; Huntington, 1968). An oft-cited example is the wide disparity in the domestic savings rates of the United States and China. According to the 1997 World Development Report, while the consumptionhappy, democratic United States saves only 15 percent of its GDP, authoritarian economic powerhouse China saves a hefty 42 percent (World Bank,

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1997). As a result, much more of China’s GDP remains available in the financial system for investment purposes, helping to fuel its economic boom. Many other authoritarian states have similarly high levels of domestic savings, including Gabon (48 percent), Indonesia (36 percent), Malaysia (37 percent), and Saudi Arabia (30 percent). Such arguments rest on two assumptions: (1) that democratic governments are responsive to the widespread desire to consume; and (2) that authoritarian states prefer and can force investment policies. However, over time it has become clear that neither of these conditions necessarily hold. In particular, authoritarian states do not always promote policies that contribute to high growth rates, especially in sub-Saharan Africa. Nor do all democracies have low rates of domestic savings—cases like Japan (31 percent), Norway (29 percent), and South Korea (36 percent) call the U.S.China comparison into question (World Bank, 1997). As a result, scholars have refined the simple thesis that “authoritarianism promotes economic growth” in two significant ways, arguing either that authoritarian governments promote economic growth more successfully at certain stages in the development process or that certain kinds of authoritarian states (known as “developmental states”) enjoy a particular advantage in stimulating economic growth. Advantages of Authoritarianism “with Adjectives” The evolution of these two lines of thought goes back to the failure of the Alliance for Progress in the 1960s. The social science of the 1950s and 1960s held that once developing countries reached a certain level of economic prosperity, what W. W. Rostow called “takeoff,” democratic governments and further economic growth would surely follow (Rostow, 1960). The phrase “all good things go together” characterized this brief scholarly consensus (i.e., that modernization, democratization, and economic prosperity all fueled each other). This belief undergirded massive U.S. aid projects such as the Alliance for Progress, which funneled economic aid to Latin American countries anticipating that, after the seeds of development had taken root, they would rapidly progress along the path to democracy and prosperity. Instead, what Samuel Huntington labels the “second reverse wave” of democratization occurred, as the economies of Latin American countries improved while at the same time their governments reverted to authoritarian forms (Huntington, 1991). At this point, scholars such as Huntington (1968), David Apter (1965), and Guillermo O’Donnell (1979) began to argue that once states reached a certain level of development and modernization, they needed the coercive power of an authoritarian state to push industrialization forward. According to this view, the most difficult time for a regime may be immediately after

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its economy starts to improve, when the rate of public expectations and desires for political participation begin to outstrip the rate of actual economic growth. Huntington (1968) summarized this process in his famous dictum, “Modernization breeds instability.” O’Donnell’s 1979 work on bureaucratic-authoritarian states in Latin America reached similar conclusions. His research began with the puzzle that emerged from the failure of the Alliance for Progress—why did the most economically advanced Latin American countries, especially Argentina, slip into authoritarianism precisely after their economies started to “take off”? Like Huntington, he concluded that the pressures of modernization and the need to repress labor in order to concentrate and direct investment capital led naturally to authoritarianism in this phase of development. These arguments drew much inspiration from Alexander Gershchenkron’s thesis that later-developing states must modernize more rapidly, in a more capital-intensive way, than states on the cusp of the Industrial Revolution did. This kind of intense development, to his mind, required an active, powerful, interventionist state to mobilize the necessary resources (Gershchenkron, 1962; Kuznets, 1955; Hewlett, 1979). Therefore, governments must make “cruel choices,” because at certain stages economic growth and democracy are incompatible with each other (Huntington and Nelson, 1976; Hewlett, 1979). These complementary arguments have, at the extreme, served as justifications for Joseph Stalin’s repressive political and economic policies in the Soviet Union in the 1930s, holding that only such authoritarian policies could have produced intensive, rapid industrialization in an economy formerly dominated by peasant agriculture (Huntington, 1965). After the Portuguese transition of 1974 kicked off an unprecedented “third wave” of democratization around the world, though, theories emphasizing the necessity of authoritarianism at particular stages of economic development fell out of favor. Instead, scholars began to argue that, while democratic states were not necessarily bad at promoting economic development, certain kinds of authoritarian states (which came to be known as “developmental states”) were particularly good at it. This mirrored an earlier scholarly debate on the developmental prowess of military regimes. According to one school, military regimes were better developers than other kinds of regimes because they wanted to modernize their countries, had an interest in and access to technology, were egalitarian organizations, and could effectively achieve control over society (Pye, 1966; Shils, 1964; Levy, 1966). Others riposted with the claim that militaries prized order and security too much to promote solid economic development programs (Bienen, 1971; Nordlinger, 1970). The developmental states of the 1980s supposedly encompassed the positive attributes of the military regime (autonomy, technical ability, and a

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desire to modernize) without the negative, overwhelming focus on national defense and patronage policies. The poster children of the developmental state literature were the newly industrializing countries (NICs) of Asia. These states combined active industrial policies, labor repression, and export-led growth programs to yield economic growth rates far surpassing those of other developing and developed countries alike. As Robert Wade (1990: 26–27) sums up: The governed market theory says that the superiority of East Asian economic performance is due in large measure to a combination of: (1) very high levels of productive investment, making for fast transfer of newer techniques into actual production; (2) more investment in certain key industries than would have occurred in the absence of government intervention; and (3) exposure of many industries to international competition, in foreign markets if not at home. At a second level of causation, they are themselves the result, in important degree, of a set of government economic policies . . . [that] enabled the government to guide—or govern— market processes of resource allocation . . . The corporatist and authoritarian political arrangements of East Asia have provided the basis for [this] market guidance.

Peter Evans, among others, further refined this theory by focusing attention on the “Weberian” administrative capacities of these developmental states. In contrast to “predatory” authoritarian states (most notably those in subSaharan Africa), which remained locked in a vicious cycle of patrimonialism and corruption, the developmental states of East Asia, through their administrative prowess, provided the institutional basis for truly competitive markets and thus for economic development (Evans, 1993). The concept of “state autonomy” came into vogue, denoting authoritarian states whose autonomous technocrats successfully molded the market. The growth of these NICs was so impressive and surprising that it effectively undermined the entire dependency school of political science, which held that true economic development in the “periphery” had become impossible due to an international economic system that locked these underdeveloped states into a permanently subordinate relationship to the “core” advanced industrial nations (Cardoso, 1973; Valenzuela and Valenzuela, 1978; Deyo, 1987). However, as David Kang (1995) argues, no one fully understands why the NIC economies grew so rapidly; it appears equally as likely that historical experiences, international economic and security factors, or other phenomena, rather than developmentally oriented state institutions, caused this to occur. Moreover, the 1997 economic crises in East and Southeast Asia called the entire existence of the developmental state into question, as countries that had expanded rapidly during the 1980s saw their currencies plunge in value. As a condition of their bailout, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) imposed harsh, neoorthodox macroeco-

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nomic policies on these countries, which explicitly contradicted their previous state-led development programs. Weighing the Empirical Evidence With so many contradictory theoretical and case-based arguments on each side, scholars have increasingly turned to cross-national quantitative analyses to attempt to resolve the question. However, these studies have often proved inconclusive as well, in great part because of methodological and data inconsistencies. Larry Sirowy and Alex Inkeles (1991) carefully evaluated thirteen cross-national, quantitative studies measuring the effect of democracy on economic development. Three found negative effects of democracy on development, six found no relationship, while four found conditional relationships (e.g., that democracy inhibits growth only among less-developed countries or that the result depends upon the way economic progress is measured). They find the only consistent, somewhat conclusive result to be that civilian regimes were better than military regimes at improving citizens’ overall quality of life and access to social services. In a more recent study of one hundred countries, economist Robert Barro (1994) found that democracy not only does not lead to economic growth but in fact retards it. As he observes, “One way to view the findings is that political freedom emerges as a sort of luxury good . . . Basically, rich countries can afford the reduced rate of economic progress.” Barro concludes that a policy of “exporting democracy” is therefore misguided and should focus instead on promoting the protection of property rights and free markets. Sirowy and Inkeles noted numerous problems with the methodologies of these kinds of studies, however, reflecting the difficulty of capturing and measuring causality for such broad concepts as “democracy” and “development.” Many studies did not control for initial conditions or population growth; labeled a country’s political regime based on a single point in time while looking at economic results over a much longer period; and/or used measures of democracy that “confound democracy with stability.” Sirowy and Inkeles (1991: 149) note in their conclusion that “the evidence . . . would seem to suggest that political democracy does not widely and directly facilitate more rapid economic growth . . . hence, the compatibility perspective finds little support.” Yet neither did they find that democracy has a significantly negative effect on development. Maravall (1994) counters that while the empirical evidence is indeed inconclusive, this is true only because most of these studies were carried out on time periods from the 1950s up to 1980 and so are biased toward the success of authoritarian governments in Latin America, Southern Europe, and East Asia during that time. Indeed, Adam Przeworski and Fernando

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Limongi (1993) found that quantitative studies carried out after 1986 determined that democracies proved decidedly better at economic growth than did authoritarian states and that authoritarian governments were more likely to encounter economic difficulties. These critiques highlight two fundamental problems with much of the quantitative, cross-national research on the relationship between democracy and economic growth. First, causal relationships over time cannot be adequately determined by tightly time-specific, cross-sectional analysis (Leblang, 1997; Rueschemeyer, 1991; O’Donnell, 1979). Second, “economic growth” in particular presents significant limitations as a variable, both because of the problems inherent in using data such as gross domestic product (GDP) as a proxy for “growth” and because of the likely existence of intervening variables between democracy and its potential, measurable effects on growth. In addressing these methodological inadequacies, some scholars have turned to increasingly sophisticated time-series analyses, while others have more narrowly specified the dependent variable to be investigated. The results of three recent time-series analyses, unfortunately, also reach contradictory conclusions, with one finding a positive effect of democracy on growth, one a strongly negative effect, and a third no discernable effect at all. David Leblang (1997), in a temporally sensitive analysis of seventy countries between 1960–1989, found that democracy had a consistent, significantly positive effect on growth, even when controlling for a variety of potentially confounding factors, changing variables, modifying data sources, and altering country sample and time periods. But Mark Gasiorowski (2000), using a different time-sensitive research design that investigated forty-nine underdeveloped countries from 1968–1991, found that democracy caused higher inflation in underdeveloped countries because it produced larger fiscal deficits and higher wage growth, which in turn retarded overall economic growth. Gasiorowski (2000: 345) notes that “my findings . . . provide empirical support for the pessimistic argument that democracy undermines macroeconomic performance because of the adverse effects of unrestrained political participation.” Finally, Ross Burkhart and Michael Lewis-Beck (1994: 903, 907) found in a pooled time-series analysis of 131 states that although “economic development ‘causes’ democracy, democracy does not ‘cause’ economic development . . . [but] just as clearly, we found that democracy, while not apparently a direct cause of economic development, certainly does it no harm.” In short, recent advances in methodological sophistication that take temporal dynamics into account have failed to resolve the issue. Empirical studies attempting to refine the dependent variable, however, have enjoyed marginally more success in pinning down some of democracy’s economic effects. For example, Wayne Sandholtz and William Koetzle (2000) effec-

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tively argue that, in combination with other factors, political democracy is associated with lower levels of corruption. The two specific areas in which the most research has been done touch on the connections between democracy and free trade and democracy and economic inequality.

Democracy and Free Trade Scholars have indeed enjoyed more success in evaluating the seemingly straightforward connection between democracy and free trade. As Charles Lindblom (1977) has observed, except in brief times of war every democracy extant has had a market economic system. According to economic theory, market economies work best when they trade freely with each other, operating according to the principle of comparative advantage. Thus, because of democracy’s close historical relationship to capitalism, democracies should logically be more likely to trade freely than authoritarian states. Moreover, because they protect individual rights (including property rights), democracies should be less likely to nationalize industries and more likely to allow free capital flows. As Daniel Verdier’s 1994 study of trade policies in Britain, France, and the United States from 1860–1990 concludes: Democracies are more likely to pursue free trade, stabilize currencies, and respect the environment than nondemocracies. Of course, democracies will not always do such nice things . . . Nevertheless, democracies are equipped with political institutions capable, now and then, of raising their aim above selfish, short-term targets set by small groups and, instead, taking aim at making the world a bit better and safer for its citizens. (294)

The desire of newly democratic, market-oriented countries in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union to join international economic organizations such as the World Trade Organization, the European Union, and the G-7 appears to support such a conclusion. Philosophically, democratic countries might feel more comfortable trading with each other, establishing a “zone of trade” to parallel the democratic “zone of peace” envisaged by Kant. Or, less idealistically, perhaps the increased economic and political transparency characteristic of democracies makes it easier for democracies to sustain free trading relationships with one another (Remmer, 1998). Alternately, others argue that a country’s political regime makes no difference in the foreign economic policies it pursues. A state will act in its own national interest, which in the case of trade policy is determined by its place in the international system, its factor endowments, international economic regimes, and so forth. What makes sense for an authoritarian state will make sense for a democratic state with similar economic interests.

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Analysts often point to the U.S. trade relationship with China as an example of realist principles in action. The political regimes differ greatly, yet both states trade relatively freely with each other because it is in their mutual interest to do so. Likewise, Japan and the United States, despite their shared democratic regimes, have a much more complicated trading relationship involving mutual accusations of protectionism and other unfair practices. Protectionism among the world’s most powerful democracies deepened the Great Depression of the 1930s, while the authoritarian NICs of the 1980s expanded their economies through a purposeful regime of free trade. Even Mexico’s adoption of NAFTA came before its political opening, because of the pressures of increasing international economic interdependence. Mexico’s other major economic reforms, designed to make itself more attractive to foreign capital (particularly its 1992 constitution amendments creating an independent central bank and allowing for the renting or sale of communal land holdings), also occurred prior to Mexico’s efforts at political democratization (Purcell, 1995). Furthermore, in a 1998 study partially contradicting his earlier work, Verdier argues that even if democracies individually are more likely to be free traders than autocracies, it does not follow that a proliferation of democracy throughout the world would lead to less protectionism on the whole. In fact, he argues, because democratic regimes tend to “empower the same classes of producers,” the spread of democracy could actually lead to a worldwide increase in protectionism if countries specialize on the basis of factor endowments. The empirical evidence demonstrates that democracies may be slightly more likely to be free traders than are authoritarian states. In a “plausibility probe” examining the rates of cooperation among Mercosur countries from 1947 to 1985, Karen Remmer (1998: 45) finds that “democratic pairs of states in the Southern Cone have been several times more likely to enter into economic agreements with one another than with other pairs of states; but these differences all but disappear after controlling for other sources of variation in the propensity to cooperate, including time, joint GDP, and trade interdependence.” She does find, however, that democracy itself (as opposed to joint democracy) increases the likelihood of economic cooperation. William Dixon and Bruce Moon’s (1993: 10) study examining the relationship between similarity in political system and U.S export patterns with seventy-six nations over an eighteen-year period found that “trade is enhanced by familiarity and trust that derive in part from political and social similarity among nations.” However, the study does not directly address barriers to trade, nor does it deal with possible other factors that might be causing this relationship. Similarly, in a regression analysis of politically relevant dyads from 1950 to 1985 using data from the Correlates of War project, John Oneal et al. (1996) found that countries that trade together regularly are less likely to go to war with each other. Moreover,

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“interdependence may be particularly beneficial when combined with democratic institutions. Political and economic freedoms allow individuals to form transnational associations and to influence policy in light of the resulting interests, inhibiting their governments from acting violently toward one another” (O’Neal et al., 1996: 13). While not directly proof of the connection between democracy and free trade, the association remains suggestive of the potential benefits of increasing economic interdependence among democracies fostered by free trade practices.

Democracy and Inequality Scholars and policymakers alike have often taken for granted the assumption that democratic governments, whatever other economic effects they might engender, certainly reduce economic inequality among citizens. After all, in a democratic system elected politicians cannot freely ignore labor movements or the less-well-off sectors of society. Indeed, since contentious political issues in any state usually focus on issues of economic distribution, a democratic state that gives more citizens a voice in the process should naturally result in a more equitable economic atmosphere, especially as leftist political parties emerge (Lenski, 1966; Olson, 1982). Much anecdotal evidence supports this assumption, although it is difficult to separate out the relative effects of democratization and development in reducing inequality. For the high-income democracies, the wealthiest 20 percent of the population controls between 35 percent and 45 percent of the nation’s income, while in well-off authoritarian states (e.g., Malaysia, Jordan) the wealthiest 20 percent often controls over 50 percent of income (World Bank, 1997). Maravall (1994) also notes that, for example, income distribution became more equal after democratization in Spain and Portugal. Others argue, however, that this correlation breaks down in less-welloff democracies. In particular, in Latin America it is not at all uncommon for the top 20 percent to control over 60 percent of the nation’s income (e.g., Chile, Brazil, Panama, Guatemala), with correspondingly high Gini indexes. Moreover, some of the lowest Gini indexes in the world belong to the former communist states in Eastern Europe and Eurasia (World Bank, 1997). Why would this be the case? Charles Beitz (1982) points out that in democracies, those best able to lobby and spend are the best protected from economic hardship, so authoritarian regimes immune to such distributional pressures may be better able to help the poor. This echoes Lindblom (1977), who strongly states that democracies inevitably privilege wealthy business interests over average citizens because democratic politicians need the support and cooperation of business in order to govern effectively.

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Similarly, Kenneth Bollen and Robert Jackman (1985) argue that lowincome citizens in democracies do not necessarily demand redistribution and that often inequality is not perceived as being unjust. This is particularly the case in the United States, where the prevailing political culture insists that individuals bear sole responsibility for their economic fates, both good and bad. In countries undergoing dual transitions in the 1980s and 1990s, income inequality has, in fact, become directly associated with democracy because these states tend to embark on neoorthodox stabilization programs (Nelson, 1994). The deleterious effects of democratization combined with market reforms for income equality have been most obvious in postcommunist societies. Although income inequality remains relatively low in most of these countries compared to the rest of the world (with the exception of Russia), there is no question that it has risen precipitously since the collapse of communism. While the transition has made many wealthy, it has also hit a number of groups hard, particularly the elderly, women, and children. It has also undermined unions, which have been discredited in most postcommunist countries as stooges of the old regime. As Joan Nelson (1994) notes, “market-oriented reforms quite clearly reduce the political power of labor unions . . . union membership has dropped in most dualtransition nations, most dramatically in post-communist countries.” Therefore, democracy, especially in situations of dual transition or lessthan-high levels of economic development, seems less powerful at reducing economic inequality than one might have expected. The empirical evidence confirms these contradictory theories and anecdotes. Sirowy and Inkeles (1991) looked at twelve studies examining democracy’s effects on inequality as measured by income distribution, all completed before 1989. Seven found some support for the thesis that democracy reduces inequality, while five found either no relationship or an inverse relationship. Moreover, some studies finding a correlation noted that it was only effective for certain kinds of countries (e.g., varying by income level or by the length of time a country had been democratic). In three other studies using Morris Morris’s (1979) physical quality of life index, Sirowy and Inkeles note that the studies again have conflicting results, with one finding no correlation, another finding a correlation only for advanced democracies, and the last finding a strongly positive correlation. But in yet another study, Maravall (1994: 27) finds that, in a regression analysis of approximately ninety countries, “as the index of democracy goes up, the level of welfare effort and total expenditures on health care and education also rise.” This does not, of course, mean that income inequality would be reduced, merely that democratic countries seem to put more effort into providing a safety net for the least well-off. Unlike the reasonably well-demonstrated connection between democ-

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racy and free trade, therefore, studies on democracy and income inequality do not yield results robust enough on which to base public policy. While attempts to further specify the dependent variable will undoubtedly lead to more satisfying conclusions in the future, at present the empirical research testing causal connections between democracy and a variety of discrete economic developments remains in the early stages.

Democracy and Stabilization The question of whether democracies or dictatorships are better at carrying out short-term economic stabilization, liberalization, and privatization policies has been central to the study of political economy in the 1980s and 1990s, as more and more countries in economic crisis have swallowed the IMF’s “bitter pill” and imposed economic austerity measures on their citizens. Putting aside the larger question of whether these neoorthodox strategies are the most fair and effective means of bringing about long-term economic development, two specific questions come to mind: which kinds of regimes are more likely to decide to take this medicine, and which are more likely to succeed in implementing the measures when they do so? Most economists and a significant number of political scientists argue that authoritarian states (and in particular developmental states) have a natural advantage in this area. According to this viewpoint, democracies rarely choose to adopt such stabilization policies because they often immediately harm many influential, cohesive interest groups (such as industrialists and unions), while rewarding dispersed, powerless groups that may not even realize the benefits the policy is bestowing on them (such as a nascent middle class). Moreover, sustaining such reforms in the medium term is also difficult for democracies because growth does not immediately follow stabilization, while the kinds of continuing reform necessary for stabilization to take hold—such as financial sector reform, privatization, restructuring of social services and labor markets, and so on—also hit particular interest groups very hard (Nelson, 1994). Therefore, an authoritarian regime with a team of insulated, educated technocrats has a better chance of pushing through tough reforms in the face of negative public opinion. Other studies have shown, though, that democracies may not be at such a disadvantage. For example, Remmer (1991: 482) found that: According to a 1986 study of the implementation of IMF stabilization programs in Latin America, democratic regimes have been no less likely than authoritarian ones to introduce austerity programs, no more likely to break down in response to their political costs, and no less successful in program implementation . . . the puzzle of the 1980s has not been the fragility of liberal democracy but its surprising vitality in the face of overwhelming economic constraints.

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Barbara Geddes (1993) also notes that, contrary to popular belief, authoritarian states in Latin America have amassed extremely poor records in carrying out successful structural adjustment programs. In fact, it may be that democracies, because they enjoy greater legitimacy, are better able to ask citizens to undergo economic hardship during extreme reform processes (Maravall, 1994). Nelson (1994) agrees in part with this point, noting that democracies do tend to be better at carrying out stabilization regimes when the country faces an especially deep economic crisis, because the greater legitimacy of a democratic government gives it the power to act when a public consensus on the need for reform has emerged. The relative ability of democracies to introduce and implement stabilization programs may also have much to do with the initial conditions in the country. Maravall (1994) points out that the presence of an effective, professional bureaucracy in democratizing countries like Hungary, Spain, and Poland gave them an advantage in this realm, as opposed to democratizing countries such as Bulgaria or Romania. The most contentious aspect of the democratization-stabilization argument has been over the issue of sequencing. Specifically, is an authoritarian state with a controlled economy more likely to emerge as a free-market democracy if it begins its transformation with economic reform, political reform, or both simultaneously (i.e., a dual transition)? The economy-first view holds that democratization leads to increased pressures for public spending on social welfare needs and often results in undesirable populist policies. According to Stephen Haggard and Robert Kaufman (1992), most states that begin their transitions with political reform cannot carry out risky economic reforms until the third or fourth electoral cycle, and even then economic reform is difficult without a strong two-party system to support it. When beginning economic reforms, these states are at a high risk for instability, loss of legitimacy, and entrance into potentially destructive reform/retrenchment cycles. States that begin with political reform also find it harder to manage the pace of change and, because of this, have a counterproductive incentive to centralize power (Pei, 1996). Because authoritarian regimes are not accountable to the public, so the story goes, they are better able to implement difficult economic adjustment programs. Guillermo O’Donnell and Philippe Schmitter (1986) support this by observing that successful transitions to democracy rarely occur along with rapid economic change. Advocates of leading with economic reform typically refer to the differences in the reform paths of China and Russia to make their point. On the face of it, China’s decision to begin its reforms in the economic sphere seems to have been wise. While China has experienced rapid economic growth, Russia’s reform process, which began in the political sphere but grew to encompass political and economic factors, remains in grave danger. In fact, according to Susan Purcell (1995), Mexican President Carlos

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Salinas chose to accelerate economic reforms before opening the political system further, partly because he had been influenced by the seeming failure of the reverse strategy in the Soviet Union under Mikhail Gorbachev. This comparison, along with studies of countries such as Chile, South Korea, and Turkey, naturally led some scholars to conclude that authoritarian states had more successful political and economic outcomes in the long run if they began their reform efforts in the economic sphere. Yet strong theoretical and historical arguments exist for privileging democratization over economic reform—or at least for allowing the two processes to progress simultaneously. Both, after all, expand the scope for individual choice and entail open competition for power, be it political or economic. Nancy Bermeo (1997), for one, finds that neither moderation in the economic reform process nor deafness to labor’s economic demands are necessary for successful democratic transitions to occur. Larry Diamond (1995) makes the case even more strongly. He first debunks several fallacious assumptions in the argument that authoritarian states are more likely to successfully carry out market reforms; it assumes that authoritarian states have the legitimacy and bureaucratic coherence to do so, that authoritarian states are immune from political pressures, that authoritarian leaders will be likely to support economic liberalization policies, and that powerful popular interest groups will inevitably oppose economic liberalization. While such conditions held in many East Asian nations, these states remain the exception rather than the rule. Moreover, as Diamond points out (1995a: 124), “if one accepts that the cases of South Korea and Taiwan . . . do not qualify as instances of economic liberalization comparable in scope and urgency to the crisis-ridden economies today, then the only case of successful economic liberalization under authoritarian rule is Chile.” In general, according to Diamond, democratization and marketization have proven to be compatible processes. In India, the archetypical example of political liberalization preceding economic opening, the controlled economic environment arguably gave democracy time to become institutionalized. Only after this had occurred could ethnically and religiously divided, overpopulated India manage to introduce and sustain broader economic freedoms and the rising inequality that accompanied them. Others argue that particular kinds of democratic governments may have an advantage in implementing neoorthodox economic reforms. Nelson (1994) points to two such conditions: when the country has had previous experience with democracy and is redemocratizing, and when political actors from the old regime have been excluded and discredited. In support of this, she notes that the first elected governments in Argentina, Bolivia, and Brazil were not able to carry out stabilization policies, while the second-round governments in Bolivia and Argentina carried out difficult stabilization programs followed by structural reforms; further, the break with

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old elites in Latin America was typically much less radical than in postcommunist countries, many of which thoroughly removed old elite structures from power. In addition, much may depend on the kind of stabilization strategy the state chooses to adopt. True neoorthodoxy (which also goes under the name “shock therapy”) requires rapid price and trade liberalization, monetary and fiscal stabilization, and privatization. Przeworski (1991), among others, suggests that the only way to implement such a policy in a democracy is to introduce it rapidly, without warning—in other words, undemocratically. He perceives this to be a worthwhile compromise, because in his view even if public pressure forces leaders to slow the reforms later, they will still accomplish more than will gradual reform efforts. In fact, in order to carry out such a radical program, guaranteed to cause significant and immediate negative economic effects on a large segment of the population, states almost always do find it necessary to resort to at least semiauthoritarian measures such as emergency presidential powers, rule by decree, or protected economic “change teams.” Such a strategy may continue to undermine democracy in the medium and long term as well, however, as the executive grows accustomed to its new powers and as bypassed democratic institutions lose legitimacy. Russia’s experience provides a case in point. Although the Supreme Soviet granted Boris Yeltsin emergency decree powers in late 1991 in order for him to pursue economic reforms, Yeltsin’s continued attempts to shove his radical economic programs down the throat of an increasingly recalcitrant Supreme Soviet eventually led to his bloody disbanding of that elected institution in October 1993. Yeltsin then ignored the successor legislature, the Duma, as well, and persisted in trying to run Russia by decree. In contrast, gradual (but sincere) economic reform efforts may not be so harmful to democracy. If economic changes are introduced slightly more slowly, with more public debate and participation, democratic institutions may actually have a better chance of retaining (and even increasing) their legitimacy during the reform process. Economy-first arguments also assume that once a country has made a market transition, democratic reforms will inevitably follow. While this is often the case, the cause-and-effect process may not be that straightforward. At any rate, it is certainly true that democracy does not immediately follow on the heels of economic stabilization. Again, the Russia/China dichotomy presents a good example. Although scholars who favor the Chinese-style sequencing of reforms seem to assume that China’s democratic future is foreordained (Pei, 1996; Zhang, 1993), there are no guarantees that the growth of the market will smooth the way for China’s political transition from a one-party dictatorship. Many Chinese and Western scholars alike warn of exactly the opposite: that the decline in power of the

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Chinese central government may lead to disintegration of center-regional ties and possibly an authoritarian backlash. Both Russia and China face difficult political transitions without the benefit of previous sustained experiences with democracy. It is difficult to tell at this stage which country (if either) is more likely to emerge with a free-market democracy. To a certain extent, the heated debate over sequencing economic and political reforms represents a conceit on the part of scholars and policymakers that such a decision is theirs to make. Most states have little choice in the road they take. Gorbachev, for example, attempted to begin the Soviet Union’s reforms with economic change, only to be stifled by entrenched bureaucratic and industrial interests. Without glasnost, without political reform, little economic change could have occurred. In contrast, while a significant elite constituency existed for economic reform in China, fundamental political reform remains stalled. Whether Russia’s reform sequence will prove to be more problematic than China’s in the end remains open to question, but the fact that neither country could have carried out its reforms in the opposite order seems clear. Moreover, given the myriad differences in the initial, prereform economic conditions in Russia and China, it is methodologically problematic to argue that authoritarianism represented the key causal factor allowing China to carry out economic reforms more successfully than Russia. To name just one important distinction, China could begin its transformation with the large and underdeveloped agricultural sphere, while Russia did not have this option because its agricultural sector was much smaller and more closely tied to industry. Moreover, China was able to rely on a broad network of overseas Chinese eager to invest in the country, and it began its transformation in a time of relative economic stability. Russia, in contrast, had entered a severe depression by the late 1980s and could tap no ready sources of foreign capital to ease its transformation. For these reasons and others, it makes far more sense to compare the relative success and failure of democratization and stabilization policies across postcommunist countries in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union, where the initial conditions were more similar. In fact, when we make this comparison, a surprising empirical finding emerges—those postcommunist countries that democratized the furthest have also enjoyed the greatest success in both economic stabilization and economic growth. In the postcommunist world, it appears, all good things do go together. Why is this? Scholars have advanced a number of explanations, ranging from the influence of the international environment to initial conditions (e.g., Bunce 1999, 2000). For example, in Latin America and Southern Europe carrying out democratization and economic reforms together would have simultaneously reduced both the political and economic power of authoritarian elites and thus led to elite opposition strong

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enough to quell any attempts at change. In postcommunist states, however, the communist-era political elite substantially benefited from economic liberalization programs, inasmuch as this elite controlled the resources and connections necessary to acquire money and property under the new regime. Therefore, from the point of view of communist-era elites, economic liberalization actually made political democratization easier to swallow. Alternately, Janos Kornai has stated that if democratization and marketization do not proceed simultaneously in postcommunist countries, the bureaucratic monopolies will not be broken and a “racket” economy will develop (Kornai, 1989). Guiseppe DiPalma (1991) agreed, arguing that dual transitions can feed off each other—a state chooses to begin a democratic transition, democracy demands the creation of a market, and the growing market supports democratic individualist values. In Hungary, for example, David Bartlett (1997) finds that emerging democratic institutions aided the market transformation process by protecting the state from being overwhelmed by “special interests” and losers of the economic reform process. In other words, it prevented the old guard, unpopular in the electoral arena, from sabotaging the moves toward marketization. Furthermore, as Steven Fish (1998) demonstrates through a crossnational quantitative analysis, the causal connection in postcommunist states goes primarily from democracy (specifically, the outcome of the first elections) to stabilization and development and not the other way around. Countries able to make a strong break from the past by freely electing democratic opposition leaders in their first competitive elections enjoyed a honeymoon period in which citizens tolerated painful economic reform programs. This relationship between democratization and stabilization in postcommunist states does not appear to be strictly linear, however. As Joel Hellman (1998) shows, postcommunist states like Russia that underwent only partial democratization left the state open to capture by newly empowered economic interest groups, thus forestalling additional political and economic reforms. While the postcommunist transformations are still in their early stages, the experiences of these countries with democratization, economic liberalization, and economic growth, properly compared, promise to add significantly to our understanding of the relationship between political openness and economic progress.

Conclusion For the most part, this analysis of the posited causal connections between democracy and economic development remains, unfortunately, inconclusive. An investigation of the theoretical and empirical literature revealed no agreement on whether there is a causal relationship between democracy and

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economic growth, inequality, or stabilization. The only two relationships that stand up to scholarly scrutiny to this point are those between democracy and free trade, and those between democracy and economic reform in postcommunist states. For scholars, this review raises two important considerations for further research on democracy and development. First, these contradictory results suggest that it may be necessary to combine quantitative and qualitative approaches in individual studies in order to arrive at a more comprehensive understanding of the relationship between democracy and development (Rueschemeyer, 1991). Increasingly careful cross-temporal and cross-national quantitative analysis can further illuminate the potential connections between democracy and development, while case study research can allow us both to understand the deeper processes and policies that make these relationships possible and to identify and investigate those cases in which common trends fail to materialize. Second, in order to reach more reliable conclusions, we should consider narrowing our areas of inquiry. No scholarly consensus exists on what “democracy” is or how it can be broadly promoted (see, e.g., Collier and Levitsky, 1997; O’Donnell, 1996; Schmitter and Karl, 1991). According to most definitions, Brazil, Russia, and the United States are all democracies, yet their political systems function in extremely diverse ways. As Przeworski and Limongi (1993) put it, “our guess is that political institutions do matter for growth, but thinking in terms of regimes does not seem to capture the relevant differences.” Similarly, “economic development” can be defined in myriad ways and proves difficult to measure. Therefore, the variables “democracy” and “development” should be unpacked to get at the true causal mechanisms driving economic successes or failures. As theories develop and contradictory cases appear, these variables should continue to be supplemented—and perhaps replaced—by examinations of mid-range institutional variables such as democratic party systems, electoral systems, methods of state intervention in the economy, initial institutional conditions, and the autonomy and capacity of state bureaucracies. Such an approach also calls for a closer examination of “institutions of horizontal accountability” such as independent central banks, judiciaries, electoral commissions, and anticorruption agencies, which check the ability of democratically elected politicians to manipulate their countries’ economic and legal systems (O’Donnell, 1996). In addition, as the contradictory experiences of Latin America and Eastern Europe demonstrate, we should be prepared to narrow our inquiries by region when circumstances indicate that differing internal and external conditions across regions may dramatically affect our results. While achieving generalizable theoretical results across regions is desirable, it may not always be possible.

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Politically, this conclusion indicates that, at least for the time being, democracy promotion policies predicated on the assumption that democracy causes economic development will often rest on shaky theoretical and empirical grounds. At best, the evidence suggests that successful democracy promotion policies will lead to greater adherence to free trade policies, as well as successful economic reform in postcommunist states. The overarching lesson is that northern industrialized countries should not promote democracy in developing countries because democratization will lead to “something else,” but because northern policymakers and their peoples believe that democratic freedoms are good in and of themselves. Such a policy would not only be more honest but would be more likely to produce the intended results.

PART 2

THE ROLE OF STATE ACTORS

4 Promoting a Special Brand of Democracy: Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden Liisa Laakso

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ordic democracy, inclusive of Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden,1 is traditionally conceptualized within the framework of the welfare state, without any sharp distinction between economic, social, and cultural rights on the one hand, and civil and political rights on the other. To a large extent, the Nordics have been eager to present their countries as models for internal development (Allardt et al., 1981: 1). The historical development of Nordic democracies from traditionally unequal societies has prompted Nordics to regard democracy as a good in itself. As a result, most Nordics are ready to pay for their democracies through extensive taxation systems in which tax rates are generally higher than those in other northern industrialized democracies. Even if sometimes inefficient, democracy is regarded as better than a strong but undemocratic government. The primary purpose of this chapter is to clarify the involvement of the Nordic countries in the promotion of their special brand of democracy. Democracy promotion, reflective of Nordic values, is considered to be an important national interest. It is tied to Nordic national identities and the way in which these countries define themselves. Some observers have even argued that small industrialized democracies such as the Nordic countries are more likely to associate their interests with democratic and peaceful development in the developing world (Stokke, 1989: 275). However, this chapter demonstrates that economic, ideological, and security interests of the Nordic countries sometimes run counter to, and may even override, their long-term interest in democracy promotion.

Goals and Normative Assumptions Nordic democracy, although not without its own innovations—such as the institution of the ombudsman, a government official appointed to receive 55

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and investigate complaints against abuses or capricious acts of public officials—is based on models and ideologies that have been imported from the outside. Following the liberal tradition of parliamentary government, the Nordic concept of democracy embraces the concepts of freedom of opinion and association, transparency of public decisionmaking, and a strongly institutionalized rechtstaat (rule of law) with an independent judiciary. From the socialist tradition, the Nordic concept of democracy embraces the necessity of shared responsibility for providing equal opportunity and overcoming socioeconomic inequality. Although strategies for safeguarding independence have varied according to specific histories and geopolitical constellations, these relatively small northern industrialized democracies consider national sovereignty and self-reliance among the core values of their democratic ethos. A common feature of all Nordic countries has been their active internationalist role and their tendency to regard peaceful international development as critical for ensuring the security of small nations throughout the world. The Nordic governments interact with countries of very different political and social systems through active involvement in international organizations and the pursuit of mutually beneficial economic relations (i.e., trade and investments) (Rudebeck, 1982: 155). Only seldom, as in the cases of United Nations–sponsored policies against the apartheid system in South Africa (1949–1994) or Iraq’s illegal invasion of Kuwait in 1990, have the Nordic governments agreed to adopt economic sanctions to force repressive governments to undertake political reforms. When trade and investment agreements are negotiated with the developing world, issues of human rights and democratization are often formally included in the agenda but are substantially marginalized. Trade and investment, according to Nordic policymakers, should be governed by economic self-interest rather than ideological values, and in any case they are not typically viewed as useful tools for exporting Nordic democracy. This is particularly striking as concerns the Nordic policy (especially in the cases of Finland and Sweden) of selling arms to the developing world, which is often rationalized in terms of the strategic necessity of maintaining the Nordic defense industry. The Nordic reluctance to tie trade to democracy promotion, nonetheless, is best explained by their liberal ideology and domestic politics, where employment promotion is so essential. The promotion of widely shared socioeconomic development through a generous foreign aid program serves as an important component of Nordic democracy promotion. This commitment is derivative of strong Nordic ideological support for the global decolonization process (Andrén, 1981: 693). A commonsensical recognition of their limited individual economic capacities has ensured that, from the beginning, the Nordic countries have sought to coordinate foreign aid policies. Finland, for example, launched its first

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bilateral development cooperation project in Tanzania in 1962 through the joint Nordic Tanganyika project. This and other joint projects, created within the framework of the Nordic Council, have always implicitly sought to export Nordic democracy to other countries and areas (Pohjoismaiden neuvosto, 1988: 126). In 1989 a joint agreement in Isafjördur, Iceland, explicitly declared for the first time that democracy promotion was one of the primary goals of Nordic development cooperation (see Toma sˇevski, 1991: 32, 33; DANIDA, 1993c: 30). With the exception of Finland, the Nordic countries lead the northern industrialized democracies in providing foreign aid, often exceeding the United Nations target of giving at least .7 percent of gross national product (GNP). Whereas the Nordic countries as a whole gave .8 percent during the 1990s, the average for the other northern industrialized democracies was less than .3 percent (Ulkoasiainministeriö, 1995: 8; Michel, l997). Several aspects of Nordic development aid stand out. At the ideological level, multilateral assistance, especially when it is channeled through United Nations organizations, is traditionally seen by the Nordics as the most democratic form of aid. As a result, the Nordic countries are among the major donors to these organizations, including providing nearly 30 percent of all contributions to the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) (DANIDA, 1995: 37). Nordic aid has also favored the poorest countries, especially those intent on overcoming socioeconomic inequality. In the case of Tanzania, the largest recipient of Nordic aid, President Julius Nyerere’s Ujamaa (brotherhood) ideology, with its focus on creating a more equal and just society in one of Africa’s poorest countries, clearly reflected Nordic values. Third, although each Nordic country has had partners in all three continents of the developing world, the bulk of their aid has been concentrated in Southern Africa. As demonstrated in a study on the case of Sweden, this reflects the tendency of middle powers to maximize the effectiveness of their limited resources (see Schraeder, Hook, and Taylor, 1998). Finally, as the total amount of aid increased during the 1980s and became more important for Nordic economies, the ratio of bilateral versus multilateral aid gradually has shifted in favor of bilateral aid. Although the Nordics recognized, at least implicitly, the importance of civil and political rights in the development process, their development projects typically concentrated on the practical socioeconomic concerns of economic growth, production, infrastructure, health care, and education. A significant exception was humanitarian aid to national liberation movements and victims of repression in Latin America, Southeast Asia, and Southern Africa. This aid typically included support for refugees and political prisoners as well as legal and trade union education. Toward the end of the Cold War, a more comprehensive policy for civil and political rights became both necessary and possible. Political repres-

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sion as well as discontent with the existing development efforts in the developing world were receiving more attention in the media and among NGOs. The implementation of conditionality in economic policies could easily be extended to the political field as well (Stokke, 1995). Besides, one can note that during the 1960s and 1970s requirements of democracy in the developing world have appeared incoherent since democracy was not required in many countries of Southern and Eastern Europe, with which Nordics had significant economic and cultural cooperation, including development aid to Spain and Portugal through the European Free Trade Association (EFTA). The process of democratization in Europe changed this situation. Democracy as a goal of development cooperation was gradually extended to cover political reforms in the developing world (Andreassen, 1991: 76). Democracy was no longer solely approached through a focus on social and economic inequality. An increasing focus on the “political” premise of democratization instead initially included human rights and political participation concerns, followed by recognition of the importance of introducing multiparty political systems. Moreover, my interviews have demonstrated that, by paying attention to “sensitive” political questions in the recipient countries, the development agencies inside the Nordic ministries of foreign affairs attempted to raise their status vis-à-vis other sectors of foreign policy.

Emergence of the Political Dimension Norway was the first Nordic country to introduce an explicit human rights policy into its development programs. In its first governmental report clarifying Norwegian policy (1977), the protection of human rights was linked to development aid in general terms by emphasizing the economic, social, and cultural aspects of those rights. After an intense debate over aid to Sri Lanka, a change occurred in 1984 when the government stated that the promotion of human rights would be one of the principal goals of Norwegian development assistance. Human rights violations that were persistent, gross, and/or systematic, without any government attempt to end the abuses or to identify and prosecute the violators, were listed as reasons for the modification, reduction, or cessation of Norwegian aid. Modification included the rechanneling of aid from governmental to nongovernmental bodies, especially nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) working for the protection of human rights (Eide, 1986: 190, 191; Kjekhus, 1989: 25–30). In Denmark, debate over development aid during the 1970s largely concentrated on the quantity of aid, as the official goal of the government was to achieve an aid level of 1 percent of GNP. Qualitative criteria entered the picture during the 1980s, initially focusing on environmental issues and

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the equality of women. After 1987 the promotion of human rights became one of the main objectives of Danish development cooperation (DANIDA, 1988: 2, 3; Rehof, 1989: 7). A strategic planning paper of the Danish International Development Agency (DANIDA) published in 1988 nonetheless included no proposals in the area of human rights, and its first booklet on the topic was not published until 1993 (DANIDA, 1993c; see also KrabJohansen, 1995). The Danish parliament attempted to play a more assertive role in 1989 by underscoring that the recipients of foreign aid needed to demonstrate “the prospect of achieving effective progress in furthering respect for human rights and promoting democracy” (Elklit, 1994; DANIDA, 1993c: 7). In the case of India, for example, the publication of a report dealing with human rights violations prompted an intense foreign aid debate. This, however, did not lead to the termination of Danish development cooperation with India. Sweden’s human rights policy initially followed the principle of “assist rather than abandon,” with the governing Social Democratic Party refusing to accede to domestic demands to terminate foreign assistance in cases of human rights violations (Axell, 1989; Danelius, 1988). This was particularly true when recipient countries established progressive socialist or marxist governments. In countries governed by conservative authoritarian dictatorships, however, the Swedish government financed numerous human rights projects through a special budgetary category, “Democracy and Human Rights.” In Chile, Guatemala, El Salvador, and South Africa, for example, Sweden funded numerous projects administered by democratic movements and local organizations. In many cases this took place under difficult circumstances, in secret, and without normal accounting procedures ( Toma sˇ evski, 1989). It was not until 1993, however, that the Swedish International Development Agency (SIDA) presented a clearly defined strategy for democracy and human rights assistance (SIDA, 1993a). Under this new policy, SIDA has not only increased its own direct involvement in human rights projects but has required at least 20 percent financing by local organizations and closer cooperation with target governments. Finland represents a somewhat deviant case among the Nordic countries. Although the possibility of withholding aid on the basis of human rights violations was mentioned in a report of the Finnish Development Cooperation Committee as early as 1978, Finland proceeded with utmost caution during the Cold War due to its official policy of neutrality (often referred to by critics as “Finlandization”). Even in the Cold War’s aftermath, however, Finland remained a hesitant actor in the promotion of human rights. “Aspects of human rights and democracy or our views thereon must not be used as a criterion for reward or punishment when we decide on our development cooperation,” explained Minister of Foreign Affairs Pertti Paasio in 1990. “We should rather approach the problem so as

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to support democratic developments and avoid the supporting of contrary trends” (FINNIDA, 1991: 90). Only very recently has such caution given way to a more activist human rights policy. This activism is primarily due to Finland’s membership in the European Union since 1995, which maintains an activist human rights policy; the Maastricht Treaty stipulates the inclusion of a human rights clause in all treaties between the EU and a third country. In a report on development cooperation presented to the government in 1996, for example, Mr. Paasio called for human rights initiatives in which Finland’s threat to withdraw or suspend development aid can be used as a tool (1996: 27). The Nordics perceive popular participation in democratic processes both as a goal in itself and as a means to achieve other goals of development. The right of individuals to participate in the planning of measures that affect their life situations is deemed important for the successful pursuit of sustainable development (NORAD, 1992: 11). Legal and democratic institutions, access to and responsibility in public administration, the existence of independent media, and the development of human resources are factors that are understood to facilitate this participation. A particularly important target group is women. A strategy of assistance for women in development (WID) was adopted by the Nordics during the 1980s. The ultimate objective has been to empower women in development and to achieve women’s political and legal equality. A good example is assistance given to a project, Women and Law in Southern Africa, which launched a regional network of researchers and lawyers working on the legal status of women. Indeed, the Nordics have sought to make all assistance accord to the WID theme. As a result, gender analysis is mandated in every development project or program at the earliest possible point. This is seen as beneficial not only in terms of gender equality but also in enhancing the political participation of women in non-Western societies. The importance of promoting multiparty politics in the developing world was broached in 1990 when the Nordic ministers for development cooperation met in Molde, Norway, and issued a formal Nordic stance on democracy promotion (the Molde Declaration). It referred to free elections and to the questioning of single-party systems, especially in Africa (DANIDA, 1993c: 30). Even more explicitly, the Danish minister for foreign affairs, Uffe Ellemann-Jensen, stated that same year that a multiparty system was inherent in the concept of democracy. According to him, the idea that developing countries should be able to elaborate new variants of democracy within a single-party system could no longer be defended (DANIDA, 1990: 2). This statement was clearly referring to the earlier Nordic approach toward socialist and marxist regimes, which advocated the idea of participatory democracy via mass parties in a single-party setting rather than the Western concept of representative democracy in a multiparty

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setting. Indeed, by 1992 the Nordic ministers regarded corruption and the abuse of government power as problems that could not be prevented without adequate political reforms, most notably the replacement of singleparty with multiparty political systems (DANIDA, 1993c: 31, 32).

Strategies and Instruments The evolving focus of Nordic aid policy on the political dimensions of democracy promotion can be distinguished in terms of strategies and instruments. Indirect means, most notably extending and withdrawing foreign aid, play a major role in the area of human rights, whereas more direct means, most notably direct funding for legal assistance, legal education, and local organizations, are prevalent in the promotion of multiparty systems and popular participation. In the case of Denmark, for example, a flexible channel of delivery has been the implementation of “Human Rights Packages” involving Danish NGOs and local human rights organizations in recipient countries (DANIDA, 1991: 85). A general trend toward the use of more direct means in democracy promotion has called into question the classic Nordic norm of noninterference in the internal affairs of a recipient country. There are no cases in which Nordic aid has been withdrawn if the recipient country has only failed to introduce a multiparty political system. Nordic aid nonetheless has been used in such a way as to affect the nature of the transition process. Sweden and Norway refused to provide funds when, immediately preceding the holding of multiparty elections in 1991, the Zambian government sought to delay price increases on stable foodstuffs demanded by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund (IMF). The price subsidy clearly would have helped Zambia’s incumbent president, Kenneth Kaunda, to stay in power. Similarly, irregularities in the first multiparty elections in Zanzibar in 1995 were punished by the Nordic donors. New projects were not considered, while ongoing and often successful projects were allowed to end. Often the pressure to introduce political reforms has been associated with the worsening human rights performance of the recipient country. This occurred in the case of Kenya, where pressure was exerted within the framework of the “Paris Club” of the major donors from the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD). Uganda, to the contrary, has been able to maintain its unique “nonparty” system without the threat of losing its Nordic development aid. Uganda’s successful implementation of economic reforms instead has been rewarded by the granting of debt relief. The implementation of political conditionality has been inconsistent

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and certainly is not a prominent feature of Nordic aid. Prior to the 1990s the ideological commitment of the recipient regime to promote a more just, egalitarian society was often enough to downplay that regime’s actual performance or even any systematic attempts to monitor that performance. More recently it has not always been clear how to differentiate between technical and political reductions of aid. The fact that there are no clear guidelines for the implementation of political conditionality in the development strategies of the Nordics seems to be a conscious choice. For example, SIDA’s strategy explicitly states that political conditionality should be considered on a case-by-case basis (SIDA, 1993a: 5). Moreover, it is difficult to demonstrate that the introduction of a multiparty system in a recipient country has been rewarded by the allocation of extra funds. To the contrary, the evidence suggests that there is no such policy. When Madagascar made the transition to multiparty rule, Norway closed the local office of the Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation (NORAD). Indeed, the Nordic tendency has been to support the actual preparation and conduct of multiparty elections and the introduction of parliamentarianism, including providing expertise and funding to assist in drafting new constitutions. Popular participation, typically promoted through direct means, is stated by the Nordics to be a goal in all development programs. This goal is considered to be the most demanding of aid objectives. Especially demanding is the assessment, modification, or termination of aid that diminishes people’s ability to participate in making decisions that affect their lives. The question is whether projects that have been relatively successful on grounds of economic efficiency, environmental impact, or poverty reduction should be terminated on the basis of their lack of emphasis on popular participation in democratic processes. However, increased attention is being paid to identifying and implementing development projects that will reduce dependency on the donors while strengthening and building up administrative capacities in the recipient countries, particularly at the local level. If successful, this could mean that Nordic aid would be given a new orientation, in which the substance rather than the mere forms of participation in democratic processes is taken into consideration. Although the role of political conditionalities is increasingly being discussed in the evaluation reports of Nordic development projects, the longterm, macrolevel effects of Nordic development cooperation upon popular power, participation, and human rights have not been systematically analyzed. It was not until autumn 1997 that the Nordic governments agreed to promote a joint effort in this field. Five years later it is still impossible to say how the evaluation will proceed. The Nordics have yet to define the appropriate tools by which to evaluate this cooperation. Equally important, there is no agreement about how best to classify different types of democracy and human rights support, as well as the criteria used in their evaluation.

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Since Nordic attempts to promote democratization relate to other goals of their development cooperation in complex and sometimes unexpected ways, a form of quality control has also become necessary. In Norway this task has been given to a special advisory group on women, the environment, sociocultural affairs, democracy, and human rights that has the task of ensuring these sectoral issues are taken into account in development activities for which NORAD is responsible (NORAD, 1994: 11). In practice, the introduction of advisers or experts on democracy and human rights and the systemic supervision of these issues has been a more effective mechanism. Since January 1992 NORAD has had a special adviser monitoring government strategy on assistance for democracy promotion. In spite of the pressure to reduce the size of its staff, the Finnish ministry for foreign affairs in 1995 introduced a special post for democratization and human rights issues in the Department for International Development Cooperation and another for human rights in the Department for Political Affairs. Following the practice of the other Nordic countries, Finnish ambassadors were also given a special responsibility to report on the human rights situation in the countries to which they were accredited. An important element in the effective monitoring of the promotion of human rights and democracy is access to reliable and independent information of the situation in recipient countries. Since 1985 an annual report has been published on human rights situations in the recipients of Nordic development aid. The first report, produced by Norwegian researchers and supported by the Norwegian government, initially focused only on Norwegian partners. The project subsequently became known as the Nordic Yearbook on Human Rights in Developing Countries, and later as the Yearbook on Human Rights in Developing Countries and the Yearbook on Human Rights in Development. The project has included research institutes from Austria, Canada, Denmark, Finland, Iceland, the Netherlands, Norway, and Sweden. The Nordic-led yearbook on human rights differs from other similar efforts in a number of respects. Contrary to the U.S. model in which the annual State Department country reports published by Congress are required by law, the Nordic model is based on a contract between the governments and research institutes, thereby providing a measure of objectivity and distance from the actual policymaking process. Country reports are written by independent researchers that gather and analyze information. Second, the country reports focus on both human rights violations and positive developments. The human rights performance of each country is not systematically compared to that of other countries but rather evaluated on its own merits, including an analysis of economic, social, and cultural rights (as opposed to the civil and political rights focus of the U.S. State Department). Finally, the yearbook attempts to pay equal attention to viola-

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tions committed by both governmental and nongovernmental forces (Andreassen, 1991: 76, 77; Skogly, 1990). In 1995 the Nordics were among fourteen countries that founded the International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance (International IDEA) in Stockholm. The main objective of the institute—the consolidation of new democracies—is pursued by bringing together academic, governmental, and nongovernmental actors. Its purpose is not to compete with other institutes but rather to perform a complementary and coordinating role. For example, it does not send observer teams to oversee elections but has organized seminars for organizations working in this field to collect, analyze, and disseminate lessons related to democracy promotion (see International IDEA, 1997). Nordic support for research and analysis on issues related to democracy promotion has also been provided to scholars and research institutes in the developing world. An early example was Swedish support for social science research in Latin America on the topic of political repression (Kihlberg, 1987: 21). The Nordics have supported the Southern Africa Political Economy Series (SAPES) since its beginning in 1987. SAPES’s main objective is to promote and nurture social science research in Southern Africa. It publishes a monthly research journal, the Southern Africa Political and Economic Monthly (SAPEM), as well as monographs and occasional papers. SAPES has provided one of the most lively forums for critical and independent discussion on government policies in Southern Africa, especially in Zimbabwe, where SAPES’s headquarters is located (Sawyerr and Hyden, 1993).

Employing the “Carrot” and the “Stick” in Nordic Aid Being selected to receive Nordic foreign aid represents, at least potentially, a “carrot” offered by Nordic governments to developing countries that are trying to democratize their political systems. Approximately thirty countries have achieved the status of major recipients of Nordic aid.2 Yet it is difficult to evaluate exactly why these countries were chosen, as well as the impact of the “democracy factor” that may govern these choices. The decisionmaking process is usually not made public. A number of interests are involved, and the criteria for prioritization employed by the various Nordic ministries of foreign affairs are not always clear due to the simple fact that these bureaucracies do not operate in a transparent way. In fact, it is paradoxical that the Nordic ministries of foreign affairs, one of the least transparent state bureaucracies, are trying to promote democracy in other countries, especially since transparency of administration is understood as one of the preconditions of Nordic democracy.

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There have been political disputes within the Nordic countries over the selection of aid recipients. Changes of government in Nordic countries nonetheless have not led to changes in the selection of recipient countries. During the Cold War, disputes between different political parties usually resulted in balancing foreign aid priorities between socialist-oriented countries, such as Tanzania, with market-oriented countries, such as Kenya (Rosas, Krause, and Vainio, 1989: 23). In Finland, for example, left-wing and right-wing parties had different interpretations of the principles for selecting recipient countries. The first comprehensive government document from 1974 outlining the principles of bilateral development cooperation stated that “particular attention will be paid to attempts to guarantee all members of society equal political, economic, social and cultural rights” (Ulkoasiainministeriö, 1974: 17). Whereas leftist parties in parliament argued that these principles precluded the selection of Egypt, Kenya, and Sri Lanka as program countries, conservative parties argued that these principles worked against the inclusion of Cuba and Vietnam (Ulkoasiainministeriö, 1984: 81–83). Nevertheless, when compared to that of the other northern industrialized democracies, Nordic aid has been quite favorable toward progressive regimes with socialist or marxist orientations. In the post–Cold War era, parliamentary debate has been especially lively concerning the desirability of giving aid to countries where the political opposition is repressed. Interestingly enough, countries with a somewhat successful track record in democracy have found themselves at a relative disadvantage within the Nordic aid hierarchy if they otherwise were no longer regarded as qualifying for traditional aid. In a sense, this is the ideal situation with respect to the ultimate aspirations of all development aid. A change in the nature of international cooperation from foreign aid to a more commercial basis should not be seen as a punishment. For example, Norwegian cooperation with Botswana and India and, more recently, Finnish cooperation with Vietnam have witnessed such changes. Only seldom has a country lost its status as a recipient of Nordic aid because of its political problems. During the 1970s and 1980s this reflected at least partially the stated willingness of recipient regimes to promote the Nordic ideal of ensuring social and economic equality in their respective countries. For example, a review of Norwegian development aid written in 1984 acknowledged that human rights violations were taking place in virtually all of Norway’s development partners. The same could have been said, and can be said even today, about the development partners of all Nordic countries. Although the Nordic countries remain cautious in using their development aid as a “stick” in democracy promotion, their punitive approach has involved a refusal to consider new projects proposed by recipients and the rechanneling of aid through NGOs. The real picture is

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becoming increasingly nuanced as both the competence and commitment of Nordic development cooperation agencies within the realm of democracy promotion receive more attention. Several examples nonetheless underscore the willingness of Nordic countries to punish developing countries for human rights violations. In 1990 Denmark began phasing out assistance to the Sudan in response to human rights violations and ceased one of its remaining projects in 1992 for the same reason. In 1991 it suspended aid to Indonesia after a massacre of peaceful demonstrators in East Timor (Stokke, 1995: 47). At the end of the 1980s Ethiopia and Sri Lanka and, more recently, Kenya have witnessed reductions in Nordic aid due to human rights violations. The review of Norwegian aid to Sri Lanka, commissioned by the Norwegian government in 1986, successfully recommended discontinuing aid that provided direct budgetary support to the government; however, rural development programs and aid for the rehabilitation of victims of the armed conflict continued. Gross human rights violations are often associated with political instability, affecting the general environment of development cooperation. The actual impetus and reason for suspending cooperation therefore often concerns practical issues. According to the Finnish International Development Agency (FINNIDA), Finland’s decisions to suspend or decrease assistance to Burma, Ethiopia, Peru, Somalia, and the Sudan were predominantly motivated by practical problems in the delivery of assistance. Human rights and democracy considerations were said to constitute only background factors (FINNIDA, 1991: 91). The discontinuation of Nordic development cooperation with Cuba, while cooperation with Vietnam continued, was also the result of practical considerations rather than concern over human rights issues. An increasingly important but arbitrarily implemented form of placing pressure on recipient governments has been the public condemnation of undemocratic tendencies. In 1992 the Norwegian and Swedish development agencies’ decision not to release funds for drought relief to Namibia because of the purchase of an aircraft for the country’s president was widely publicized in the Namibian press. Finland, on the other hand, although also an important donor to Namibia, did not react in the same way. Sweden openly criticized Botswana’s decision to build a military airbase and said it would influence future aid; Norway, however, found no reason to criticize Botswana on this issue. Ironically, Botswana had also purchased an aircraft for its president, which did not give rise to any Nordic condemnations.

Direct Support for Democracy Since there are no internationally accepted definitions of development cooperation that directly benefit democracy, one must rely on what has

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been specifically stated by the Nordic donors themselves as to their intentions to promote democratization. It has to be noted, however, that the measure most often emphasized by the Nordics in this regard—engaging in a dialogue with recipient governments on open, democratic, and accountable political systems—is difficult to evaluate, not least because such dialogues are often held in secret (NORAD, 1992: 16; DANIDA, 1992: 5; FINNIDA, 1991: 90). Due to its character, direct support for democratization covers a fragmented area. Although special funds for democratic development have been created, all aid mentioned as promoting democratization has not necessarily been earmarked for that purpose. For example, support for procedures to resolve conflicts can be interpreted as supporting democracy, as in the case of Norwegian assistance for a campaign in Sri Lanka intended to promote understanding between ethnic groups (NORAD, 1994: 11). A large portion of Nordic democracy aid is also channeled through international organizations. In 1991 Finland provided funds to fifteen different international organizations to promote democracy and human rights (FINNIDA, 1991: 91–93). In short, it is not possible to arrive at precise estimates of the proportion of total development assistance that is allocated to democracy promotion. The Nordics have placed special emphasis on directly assisting recipient countries in the preparation and implementation of multiparty elections. Support has included promoting public information campaigns by local NGOs, funding voter registration processes, and publishing election information in local languages to enhance voter education. The Nordics have also supported election observer missions staffed by Nordic observers as well as local NGOs. The list of countries that have received this kind of assistance is extensive, including nearly all countries that have sought such aid for their first multiparty elections, especially in Africa and the exSoviet states but also in Eastern Europe, Latin America, and Asia. Postapartheid South Africa, Palestine, and independent Namibia can be named as well. Even in China, the Nordics have participated in a UNDP project examining possibilities for supporting electoral democracy at the village level (DANIDA, 1990, 1994; SIDA, 1993b). The Nordics have also been extensively involved in constitutional and parliamentary issues. They have provided assistance on constitutional questions by offering expertise and funding for drafting new constitutions. Advice has focused on strengthening parliamentary working methods in countries with no parliamentarian traditions. Nordic aid has also funded visits to study Nordic constitutions and electoral processes. Politicians from Kenya, South Africa, Tanzania, Uganda, Zambia, and Zimbabwe have been invited to study election campaigns and the roles of the press and political parties in Sweden. Theoretically, democracy assistance should vest the donor side with

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significant influence. In the case of the Nordic countries, however, at least two factors mitigate such influence. First, all development (including democratization) proposals must be presented by the recipient country; the donors can only express their willingness to provide this type of support. Ethiopia is an example of a recipient country with serious problems in the field of human rights and democratization but limited interest in submitting proposals on such projects despite continual encouragement of the Nordic donors. Equally important, recipient governments often have been able to maintain control over the political transition process. Nordic influence can be constrained by the simple fact that democratic transitions, after all, do not constitute the kind of rupture hoped for. Both institutionally and culturally, continuities with single-party or even colonial periods have often been remarkable. Electoral laws might reflect the systems of the former colonial powers, or practical arrangements surrounding elections may have been more dependent on the nature of the state bureaucracy than on any expertise provided by the Nordic donors. In these respects, the 1995 general elections in Tanzania were insightful. According to a common view of Nordic development cooperation since the early 1960s, Tanzania, more than any other country, has been open to Nordic influence because of its special standing as the leading recipient of Nordic development cooperation. As a result, Nordic ideas of democracy, if truly exported as part of the Nordic development experience, should have guided the political transition in Tanzania. Indeed, as underscored by Samuel Mushi, the Nordic countries played an “important role” during the transition to multiparty rule. “Most of the ‘party system’ seminars and work-shops organized during this period by both opposition groups and the ruling party itself had a contribution from one or other of the four Nordic countries aiding Tanzania” (Mushi, 1995: 242). The 1995 election process, however, contained several technical problems and irregularities. More important, all donors, including the Nordics, clearly expressed their dissatisfaction with the electoral process and the announced results in Zanzibar, without having any effect on the responsible authorities. The overall impact of this constrained donor involvement in the introduction of multiparty elections was perhaps most manifest in the behavior of opposition parties. Instead of complaining about irregularities by demonstrating outside the offices of government authorities, they did so outside the Nordic embassies. In this sense, the externally supported multiparty elections may actually obscure the legitimation of national power instead of strengthening it. Another area of Nordic activity in democracy promotion has involved strengthening the legal protection of human rights and pluralism. In Tanzania, Sweden has funded the compilation of the Tanzanian statute book since 1965. Legal education, research, and the production of information

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for the public about their rights have been increasingly emphasized. Legal aid clinics have been established at least in Côte d’Ivoire, Ghana, Tanzania, and Zambia through Danish support. Assistance in this field was provided by Denmark and Norway to Uganda. Human rights education has been contributed to police and prison personnel in Zambia. In Guinea-Bissau, Sweden has supported a project that stresses the importance of a division between executive and judiciary powers. In Vietnam, economic liberalization has required legal reform to change the old combination of Confucian legal norms with elements inherited from the French and centrally planned traditions. This reform has been supported by SIDA, which apparently also saw it as a means to strengthen human rights in Vietnam (DANIDA, 1990: 84, 85; 1992: 53, 54; SIDA, 1993b: 90, 91; Tomaˇsevski, 1989: 104). Support for NGOs, including trade unions and the media, is a further component of Nordic democracy promotion that has its roots in Nordic support for the various liberation struggles in Southern Africa. An interesting debate emerged after the African National Congress (ANC), heavily supported by the Nordics during the liberation struggle, was accepted as a legal party in South Africa. The Nordics began debating whether political parties could be supported by development aid. In Sweden, especially, there was an explicit interest among the political parties to find ways of channeling support for voters’ education, workshops, and equipment to political parties in developing countries. “Conventionally,” democracy assistance has been defined as being neutral in relation to the establishment of political parties (SIDA, 1993a: 20; NORAD, 1992: 16.) However, the difficulties of opposition parties in many new multiparty systems is overriding this principle. A Swedish innovation was to support political parties through special bodies associated with the Swedish parliament.

Conclusion Democracy is certainly not the first notion that comes to mind when one reflects on the political systems of the recipients of Nordic aid during the last four decades. Of course, it is important to note that initial support for democratization makes sense only in countries without democracy. It is also important to note that the Nordic countries are still minor donors for many developing countries, most of which have intensive cultural, political, or economic relations with their former colonial powers or the United States.3 But does this mean that the Nordic attempt to export democracy via development aid has either been a total failure or is not a seriously stated goal at all? In light of the above analysis, neither of these conclusions seems to be justified. During the first decades of Nordic development cooperation, democra-

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cy was considered to be merely one aspect of social and economic development. In the eyes of many Nordic policymakers, it was not obvious at all that the recipient countries could not have developed and democratized as assumed by the early modernization theorists—whether in the framework of single-party systems or not. In a way the more recent discussion of the “right to development” reflects this traditional approach of development assistance (see Thiis, 1996). Human rights, popular participation, and multiparty systems are relatively new themes in Nordic development cooperation. These themes have yet to become operationalized into an explicit, coordinated Nordic policy, both with regard to the strategies used and to the political will and commitment to realize them. In many respects Nordic aid policy has become similar to that of the other northern industrialized democracies. But if there is still something special in the Nordic policy of democracy promotion, it is the emphasis on the role of the state. In the early years of Nordic development cooperation this was evident in the recipient-oriented nature of development aid, which even today facilitates political dialogue between Nordic and developing countries. Lacking former colonial links, the superpower status of the United States, or the economic importance of critical trading partners, the Nordics have had to build their influence in the developing world on the basis of a continuous dialogue and a search for common goals. Support given to NGOs, rather than envisioned as antagonistic to the state, has been motivated by attempts to strengthen democratic forces outside repressive governments or to promote civic education and other activities to facilitate the functioning of the democratic state. Current support for institution-building activities can also be regarded as part of that strategy. The so-called ownership agenda, which attempts to reduce recipient dependency on development aid by giving them more control of the development projects is also related to the legitimation and strengthening of the state. There is no doubt that the formulation of a policy and doctrines for promoting democracy inevitably challenges the principles of sovereignty and nonintervention in the internal affairs of other countries. According to Nordic perceptions, however, democracy promotion is not necessarily antagonistic to sovereignty as such but rather can replace the concept of government sovereignty with popular sovereignty in international politics. The dismantling of repressive governments brings hardly any changes without the simultaneous introduction of democratic institutions, and democratic institutions can remain empty formalities without citizens who have the necessary capacities to effectively participate in decisionmaking. That the promotion of democracy requires work at many levels is clearly evident in the evolving Nordic policy in this field.

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Notes The author is most grateful for comments given by Michael Cowen, Jorgen Elklit, Juhani Koponen, Lauri Siitonen, and Edward Rhodes, and for the assistance of Riikka Lehto in collecting data. 1. As a special case, Iceland is not included in this study. It is a minor donor of development aid, which received regular assistance from the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) until 1976 (Rudebeck, 1982: 156). Iceland has closely followed and cooperated with the development programs of the other Nordic countries. 2. In 1995, for example, fifteen countries (in order of importance) received more than $50 million in Nordic aid: Tanzania, Mozambique, former Yugoslavia, Uganda, Bangladesh, Zambia, Nicaragua, India, Ethiopia, Zimbabwe, Vietnam, South Africa, Palestinian Administrative Areas, Angola, and China. 3. For example, the Nordic withdrawal of aid from Chile in 1974 had little effect, because the United States simultaneously increased its aid to that country. See Toma sˇevski (1989: 69).

5 Germany’s Hesitant Role in Promoting Democracy Jürgen Rüland and Nikolaus Werz

A

fter the collapse of the fragile Weimar democracy (1919–1933) and twelve years of savage Nazi dictatorship (1933–1945), Germany in 1945 became the target of democracy promotion. In the western occupation zones, which became the Federal Republic of Germany (West Germany), the creation of a democratic polity served as an important element in U.S. and British efforts to ensure that German soil would never again become the source of a world war. Denazification, the establishment of parliamentary institutions, and a reliance on surviving Weimar democrats to staff newly created government positions were key elements of this democratization program (Paterson, 2000). In the eastern occupation zone that became the German Democratic Republic (East Germany), the former Soviet Union, which had suffered more than twenty million casualties in World War II, decided that the creation of a communist regime, part of a cordon sanitaire of Eastern, so-called people’s democracies, would best prevent yet another invasion from German soil. East and West Germany vied for international influence throughout the Cold War, stressing the ideological superiority of their respective political systems. The democratic polity ultimately prevailed, with West Germany absorbing its socialist competitor after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the subsequent collapse of the Soviet Union and other communist regimes throughout Eastern Europe. German unification in 1990 served as a potent symbol of the success of Western-style democracy, as well as the importance of international efforts to promote that ideal during the second half of the twentieth century. Observers typically cite Germany as one of the most successful cases of democracy promotion during the post–World War II era. The newly unified Germany, however, has not been an avid proponent of the political dimensions of democracy promotion in the developing world, preferring instead to pursue an approach that underscores the overriding importance of secur73

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ing economic self-interest relative to other foreign policy goals. This emphasis on the economic dimensions of the democratization process is strengthened by a belief within the German policymaking establishment that economic growth fueled by foreign trade and investment serves as the most important precondition for the emergence of Western-style political democracies in the developing world. Although policy pronouncements throughout the 1990s, most notably after the election in 1998 of Gerhard Schröder’s Social Democratic Party (SPD)–Green Party coalition, suggest an increased focus on the political dimensions of the democratic ideal, Germany remains a hesitant and inconsistent promoter of democracy among the northern industrialized democracies.

Initial Lack of Support for Democracy Promotion Although a West German state was formed in 1949, the allied occupation statute remained in place and for the next six years severely restricted West Germany’s foreign policy making autonomy. As a result, West Germany pursued two overriding objectives in the early 1950s: the restoration of national sovereignty and, in order to alleviate the rising security concerns of its Western neighbors over the idea of a recovering Germany, the full integratation of the country into Western Europe’s fledgling supranational institutions, most notably the European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC) and the stillborn idea of a European Defense Community (EDC). Economic recovery became Germany’s third major policy priority of the early postwar years. Together these objectives naturally implied a basically Eurocentric and transatlantic outlook. Although developments behind the Iron Curtain were closely watched and castigated in harsh statements, there was no proactive democratization policy vis-à-vis Eastern Europe designed to strengthen anticommunist opposition forces. German policymakers instead believed that rapid economic recovery under the auspices of a social market economy and a parliamentary democracy would have magnetic effects on Eastern Europe, gradually undermining the control of communist regimes. All that was needed was a policy of strength, which in the end would prove the superiority of the Western system. By the mid-1950s the global power equation began to change. With decolonization new players appeared in the international arena that sought to steer clear of the two ideological blocs. In 1955 the leaders of twentynine countries from Asia and Africa met in Bandung, Indonesia, searching for a “third way” to development beyond capitalism and socialism and laying the foundations for what later became known as the Nonaligned Movement. Not surprisingly, these nations increasingly became targets of deepening superpower rivalry. U.S. policymakers responded to what they

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perceived as a communist threat to Western interests by channeling substantial amounts of economic and military aid to developing countries, as well as by exerting pressure on U.S. allies such as West Germany to play a supporting role in such efforts. For example, after a period of East-West brinkmanship between 1958 and 1962 that included the Berlin crisis, the erection of the Berlin Wall, and the Cuban missile crisis, the Kennedy administration sought West German financial and diplomatic support for the U.S. Partnership for Progress in Latin America and increasing military involvement in Southeast Asia. Official German development aid began in 1956, when the Auswärtiges Amt (Foreign Office) for the first time released approximately $21 million for technical assistance (Bodemer, 1974: 95; Nuscheler, 1995: 378). Increasingly pressured by Washington and the other Western allies to do more in the developing world, West Germany in 1961 established the Bundesministerium für wirtschaftliche Zusammenarbeit und Entwicklung (Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development). A number of additional semigovernmental bodies were also created to aid in the implementation of German development policies, including the Deutsche Gesellschaft für Technische Zusammenarbeit (German Agency for Technical Cooperation); the Deutsche Entwicklungsdienst (German Development Service); and the Deutsche Stiftung für internationale Entwicklung (German Foundation for International Development). At the same time the Kreditanstalt für Wiederaufbau (Bank for Reconstruction) increasingly mutated from an institution financing internal postwar reconstruction to financing development in the developing world. While sympathies with liberal parliamentarian systems existed among German policymakers, democracy promotion did not become an explicit criterion for the allocation of foreign aid. The overriding objective was still to prevent forays of the socialist camp into the developing world. Competition between the two ideologically opposed German countries intensified during the early years of the Cold War. West Germany’s claim to be the only rightful representative of the German people (Alleinvertretungsanspruch) found its expression in the Hallstein Doctrine (named after the former state secretary of the West German Foreign Office), which considered diplomatic recognition of East Germany as an unfriendly act and provided for a variety of retaliatory measures ranging from a reduction in foreign aid to a full break in diplomatic relations. Although initially successful (only Cuba and Yugoslavia among the developing countries extended diplomatic recognition in 1957 and 1963), the emergence in 1969 of a new Ostpolitik (literally “Eastern politics,” or an opening to the East), under the leadership of Chancellor Willy Brandt, led during that same year to the official recognition of East Germany by eleven countries (Algeria, Cambodia, Central African Republic, Chile, Guinea, Iraq, Sri Lanka,

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Sudan, Syria, South Yemen, and the United Arab Republic), with little if any retribution on the part of West Germany (Bodemer, 1974: 137). In this regard, the Hallstein Doctrine was an unsuitable instrument for democracy promotion. It encouraged an indiscriminate spread of foreign aid regardless of recipient regime type and made the West German government susceptible to political blackmail (Bodemer, 1974; Spranger and Brock, 1987). Economic motivations also relegated democratic principles to a back seat in West German foreign policy. The first economic recession in postwar Germany in the mid-1960s and the two oil crises in the 1970s underscored the dependency of German economic well-being on foreign trade, most notably the regular supply of cheap raw materials. As a result, oil producers in the Middle East and countries with potentially large markets such as Brazil, India, Indonesia, Iran, Mexico, Nigeria, Pakistan, and Turkey became priority recipients of German foreign aid. Except for India, none of these countries exhibited a distinguished record of democratic governance. West German policymakers for the most part accepted the widely shared tenet of modernization theory that a causal relationship exists between economic and political development; first there must be economic growth, which in turn is best guaranteed by a strong, unitarian, centralizing, and usually authoritarian state. It was believed that Entwicklungsdiktaturen (developmental dictatorships; see Löwenthal, 1962) and Vormundschaftsdemokratien (“tutelary” democracies; see Shils, 1962) would gradually fade away with economic growth (Newman, 1963). Economic growth would stimulate economic diversification, which leads to organizational differentiation and the rise of new interest groups and an educated middle class that increasingly will demand political representation. In short, a belief that democratic change would naturally accompany the modernization process suggested there was no need for explicit democratization support measures in West German foreign policy and development cooperation.1

Rising Pressures for Democracy Promotion A series of developments created pressures for a more democracy-oriented foreign policy. The far from satisfactory results of the first development decade, including (but not limited to) economic stagnation, widening income disparities within and among countries, growing mass poverty, and development projects that turned out to be white elephants, were sharply criticized by German churches and an emerging community of German nongovernmental organizations. The view that centrally managed, capitalintensive megaprojects could be a panacea for development was softened

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by a more participatory approach based on the slogans of “development from below,” “self-help,” and “small is beautiful” (Schumacher, 1977). According to church and NGO leaders, development projects would succeed only if they involved the participation and know-how of target groups within the host country in the pursuit of poverty alleviation and basic human needs. Widespread public and media support created pressures for the West German government to adopt these principles in governmentsponsored projects. In a sense, a point of no return had been reached that made it virtually impossible for any development organization—governmental or nongovernmental—to ignore the issue of popular participation in development planning (Spranger and Brock, 1987). The new Ostpolitik created additional opportunities for a more democracy-oriented foreign policy. By recognizing the existence of a second German state, West Germany’s relations with East Germany were freed from previous legal rigidities in exchange for East German concessions to grant more liberties to its citizens. Democratic values and human rights were subsequently incorporated into a list of principles as agreed by the member states of the Conference of Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE) under the Helsinki Act of 1975. Principle no. VII of the act called for “respect of human rights and basic liberties, including freedom of thought, conscience, religion and convictions.” Basket no. 3 added further weight to these principles, as it called for improved cooperation in the areas of humanitarian relations, culture, education, and information exchange (von Bredow, 1992). Humanitarian issues and human rights subsequently played a crucial role in the agenda of CSCE successor conferences, especially after the Carter administration’s insistence on the human rights theme almost provoked a collapse of the negotiations at the CSCE successor conference in Belgrade. The German government, more interested in Central European détente, sought to tone down human rights controversies. Both the coalition of the Social Democratic Party and the Liberal Party (FDP) headed by Chancellor Helmut Schmidt (1974–1982), and the conservative government of Chancellor Helmut Kohl leading a coalition of the Christian Democratic Parties (CDU/CSU) together with the FDP from 1982 through 1998, acquiesced to East Germany’s nondemocratic order in the interest of improving German-German relations. Criticism of East Germany’s authoritarian nature was muted, and multibillion dollar credits such as in 1983 helped the ailing communist regime to survive times of acute crisis. Although humanitarian and human rights issues often appeared on the agenda within the general context of East-West relations, West Germany did not use them to exert pressure on the East German leadership or that of other socialist bloc nations to open up their regimes (Hacke, 1993). Controversy was nonetheless manifest in West Germany’s foreign poli-

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cy toward the developing world. The Schmidt government, for example, sought to distance itself from the U.S. policy of assessing relations with the developing world through the lens of East-West conflict. In the case of Latin America, aid was provided to the leftist (and authoritarian) Sandinista regime of Nicaragua, whereas it was frozen for the “rightist” authoritarian regime in El Salvador. The conservative Kohl government, however, closed ranks with the Reagan administration and simply reversed these decisions (Spranger and Brock, 1987: 302). Policy toward South Africa’s apartheid regime and other African dictatorships was also controversial. South Africa was courted as an anticommunist bulwark and vital economic partner by the Bavaria-based Christian Social Union (CSU), which at the time held the development portfolio and used the ministry to endear itself to its conservative voter clientele by creating its own foreign policy. This periodically led to acrimonious debates in the cabinet with the Foreign Office that were resolved only after South Africa dismantled its apartheid system. The Cold War’s end not surprisingly changed the parameters of Germany’s approach to democracy promotion. As was the case in the other northern industrialized democracies, German policymakers believed they could now afford to criticize authoritarian regimes that only a few years earlier had been courted for their ideological (often anticommunist) stance in international affairs. That such regimes—referred to as “Dracula regimes” by one noteworthy critic (Hanf, 1980: 17)—with their flagrant human rights violations, harassment of political dissidents, and in general a tendency to “feed” on their own populations should no longer be tolerated became an article of faith far beyond the habitual champions of human rights and democracy in the NGO and church communities. A new public mood was translated into official policies in 1991 when the Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development announced a policy of conditionalities that henceforth would link foreign aid to recipient progress in promoting human rights, people’s participation in political decisionmaking, rule of law, a market economy, and development orientation (Betz, 1997; Bundesministerium für wirtschaftliche Zusammenarbeit und Entwicklung, 1996; Nuscheler, 1999; Sandschneider, 1997; and Tetzlaff, 1992). The relative weight and hierarchy of importance of these wide-ranging goals nonetheless remained unclear and therefore susceptible to varying interpretations throughout the German government. The coalition government of the Social Democrats and the Green Party led by Chancellor Gerhard Schröder, which came to power in September 1998, disappointed many who expected democracy promotion and human rights to become cornerstones of Germany’s foreign policy. Changes thus far have been largely declaratory in nature. Although the new government declared human rights and democracy to be priorities across numerous policy fields, at an operational level the record is mixed (Nuscheler, 1999: 16;

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see also Aufbruch und Erneurung, 1998). Perhaps the most forceful initiative in terms of democracy promotion is Germany’s contribution to the Stability Pact for the Balkans. Nonetheless, democracy and human rights promotion are adjuncts to the government’s security agenda, which rests on the premise that stability and peace can be secured best through a strategy of conflict prevention. Participation in the NATO intervention in Kosovo, which in the absence of a UN mandate deeply divided German society, reaffirmed these perceptions. While Foreign Minister Fischer and highranking diplomats habitually link democracy and human rights to conflict prevention, the causality remains vague. Sometimes democracy and human rights are viewed as prerequisites for, sometimes as consequences of conflict prevention.2 The rhetorical nature of democracy promotion under the Red-Green coalition is perhaps best illustrated by Fischer’s more recent initiatives to transfer the promotion of values such as democracy, human rights, openness, and critical tolerance into the realm of cultural cooperation.

Institutional Support for Democracy Promotion The formulation and implementation of German foreign policy has become increasingly complex during the 1990s due to institutional restructuring associated with reunification, the demands of globalization, the deepening process of European integration, and attempts on the part of European Union members to create a common European foreign policy (see Chapter 8). Three government agencies in particular determine the extent to which democracy promotion is integrated into German foreign policy: the Foreign Office, the Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development, and the Chancellor’s Office (Kanzleramt). Other agencies and organizations, particularly political foundations, play important supporting roles. As witnessed by the publication of a series of human rights reports during the 1990s, the Foreign Office considers democracy promotion to be part of its overall human rights policy (Auswärtiges Amt, 1996: 21). The bureaucratic focal point of this policy is the “coordinator” for human rights issues (Auswärtiges Amt, 1993: 16). In 1993 this official was dispatched to China, Indonesia, Iran, and Malaysia. In February 1995 the position was upgraded, as one of the Foreign Office’s permanent secretaries was appointed representative for humanitarian aid and human rights. The Foreign Office has also established the United Nations Human Rights and Humanitarian Aid Bureau, a subdivision of which is directed by an official with the rank of ambassador and which exclusively deals with human rights and humanitarian aid problems (Auswärtiges Amt, 1996: 14). Moreover, each of Germany’s more than 150 embassies are obliged to report yearly on

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the human rights conditions in their host country (Auswärtiges Amt, 1993: 16). The appointment of a commissioner for human rights and humanitarian aid attached to the Foreign Office is a novelty introduced by the Schröder government, though one with little influence on actual policymaking (Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 2000). The chancellor’s first trip to China is a good example. The commissioner, a former East German human rights activist, reportedly was neither involved in the preparation of the trip nor was he part of the delegation (Hansen, 2000). The Red-Green coalition also plans to establish an independent national human rights institute with possible activities centering on “information and documentation, human rights education, research and policy advice, promotion of dialogue and cooperation in Germany, and, in the long-term, social and public administration projects abroad” (Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 2000: 104). A desire to avoid accusations of intervening in the internal affairs of other sovereign states has prompted the Foreign Office to prefer indirect means as concerns democracy promotion (Auswärtiges Amt, 1993: 41). Most of this bureaucracy’s activities thus concentrate on norm building in international fora, most notably the various organs of the United Nations, the Council of Europe, the European Union, and the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE). Importance is also attached to Germany’s participation in a number of world summits, including the World Conference on Human Rights held in Vienna in 1993 and the World Conference of Women held in Beijing in 1995. The Schröder government has stepped up these activities. The actual impact of these multilateral contributions is nonetheless difficult to measure. Strengthening the international legal framework for human rights and democracy, for example, says little about the extent to which these conventions are followed in practice by German policymakers. Indeed, the human rights reports published by the Foreign Office are relatively quiet about how Germany deals with countries that ignore agreedupon international norms. In fact, human rights activists frequently deplore that in the closing years of the Kohl government there was a noticeable shift toward realpolitik in German foreign policy that continues to this day. According to this interpretation, human rights and democracy increasingly have been sacrificed on the altar of export interests. The early lifting of sanctions against China after the Tiananmen tragedy and the policy of “critical dialogue” with Burma and Iran are frequently cited as examples of such a policy. A scrutiny of foreign policy documents also reveals the regional diversity of the Foreign Office’s support for democracy promotion. While in the case of Asia, democracy is rarely explicitly mentioned as a foreign policy goal, Foreign Office documents focusing on relations with African,

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Caribbean, and Central American countries typically contain lengthy statements on democracy and human rights (Auswärtiges Amt, 1995). The government argues that, in the case of Asia, democracy promotion with the “megaphone” would be considered confrontational and close many channels through which a more effective “quiet” dialogue could be pursued. The Foreign Office also maintains a democracy promotion facility, created in 1992, which is allotted funds through the Finance and Foreign Relations Committees of the Bundestag (the German parliament). An annual appropriation of approximately $4.32 million funds the dispatch of election observer missions and, in cooperation with the Bundestag, the upgrading of parliamentary services in the new democracies of Eastern Europe and various regions of the developing world (Auswärtiges Amt, 1996: 38). The funds used for democracy promotion are taken from an ominous budgetary item administered by the Foreign Office that is known as “equipment aid” (Ausstattungshilfe). With an annual capitalization of $26-28 million, the fund supports projects designed to strengthen the German military’s developmental and civic functions in partner countries by increasing its role in infrastructural development, disaster and refugee relief operations, and the strengthening of internal security within recipient countries (Auswärtiges Amt, 1996: 38). While the Foreign Office justifies such projects with the argument that they help train police forces and other security personnel to observe human rights and the rule of law, critics contend that such an approach actually strengthens the repressive capacities of authoritarian governments by improving their public images and, in any case, by making authoritarian states more efficient (Auswärtiges Amt, 1996: 39; see also Adelmann, 1992: 10–12; and Erdmann, 1996: 133). The Schröder government reformed the facility, which henceforth will focus only on crisis prevention, peacekeeping missions, and disaster management. The Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development has emerged as the most vocal government agency in support of democracy promotion. A division of labor has been worked out with the Foreign Office, which concentrates on short-term measures such as sending election observer missions, leaving Economic Cooperation and Development to focus on long-term measures (Adelmann, 1992: 12). Indeed, officials note that their ministry played a key role in making popular participation an important aspect of foreign aid projects beginning in the 1970s, ensuring that a much greater and more systematic emphasis was placed on conditions conducive to the development of democratic structures during the 1990s. In a number of cases the Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development has successfully argued for the termination or temporary suspension of foreign aid. Critics contend, however, that the majority of countries targeted are often small countries with little economic value

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(Erdmann, 1999b: 79). When larger politically, economically, and strategically important countries such as China, India, or Turkey are concerned, sharp disagreements have emerged with the Foreign Office. In the case of Burma, the Foreign Office, despite a suspension of German aid, in 1994 promoted a policy of “critical dialogue” with the Burmese military (Heinrich Böll Stiftung, 1993). In the mid-1990s, a deepening economic recession led to growing pressures on the Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development to downgrade, though not give up, its democracy promotion policies. The development objective of poverty alleviation, with its implicit objective of empowering marginalized segments of the population, in particular came under fire by critics who argued that its developmental effects were spurious and that, in any case, there is less room for altruism as other northern industrialized democracies increasingly use their development aid to promote economic self-interest (Wolff, 1995). In fact, the ministry’s new sectoral priorities, most notably infrastructure, environment, and energy development, must be seen as attempts to reconcile global developmental concerns with German export interests. An attempt to balance this shift toward economic objectives nonetheless led Economic Cooperation and Development to develop a new type of project in 1994—in cooperation with its implementing arm, the German Agency for Technical Cooperation—that it hoped would have a more direct effect on democracy promotion. These projects focused on decentralization programs, most notably by strengthening local governance and organizations that represent civil society. These projects, coordinated since April 2000 in a separate organizational unit of the ministry, were controversial for two reasons. First, many German NGOs regarded decentralization support measures as an invasion of their democratization turf, leading to conflicts between the ministry and the agency on one hand and German NGOs on the other. Second, and equally important, as official development aid is basically state-to-state cooperation, most of these projects are characterized by considerable government involvement. If democratization is not on the agenda of these governments, projects essentially will be in vain. Decentralization programs, for example, which may have a decisive impact on the national power equation, more likely than not will be designed in such a way that they merely strengthen the existing state apparatus without contributing to vertical divisions of power and widening avenues for political participation. Even teaming up with NGOs does not necessarily increase the options for official development cooperation because the selection of NGO partners is dependent on which actors are acceptable to the aid recipient’s government. The era of summit diplomacy has ensured the emergence of the Chancellor’s Office as a major actor and competitor with the Foreign

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Office in the realm of democracy promotion. The Chancellor’s Office pursues the most pragmatic policy approach of its institutional counterparts, as witnessed by the evolution of Germany’s Asia policy. Although the Chancellor’s Office in the early 1990s fully supported the European Union’s human rights and democratization policies, making these a major criterion in its relations with Asian nations such as China and the members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), it was Chancellor Kohl himself who initiated a major reversal of Germany’s Asia policy. Under the impact of the severe and persisting economic recession that was affecting Germany’s economy after the consumption-driven unification boom, as well as the unprecedented economic growth in many parts of East and Southeast Asia to which Germany had been a latecomer, Kohl increasingly viewed the acrimonious debates with Asian leaders over democratic values as an obstacle to German efforts to find a way out of its economic malaise. After visiting five Asian countries (India, Indonesia, Japan, Singapore, and South Korea) in 1993, Kohl instructed the Foreign Office to produce an Asia policy paper that would elevate Asia to a priority position within Germany’s foreign policy. Not unexpectedly, the paper had a clear economic bias. Except for vague references to “participation of the people in the political decision-making process,” “good governance,” and the “rule of law,” neither the Asia policy paper nor the policy guidelines drafted in January 1994 by the conference of German ambassadors in the Asia-Pacific mentioned democracy promotion as a foreign policy goal. Human rights, however, were mentioned explicity, albeit treated in a much less detailed way than economic and security issues (Auswärtiges Amt, 1995; Möller, 1996: 712). Economic issues clearly overshadowed any reference to democracy in Chancellor Kohl’s subsequent trips to China in 1995 and Indonesia in 1996. In conversations with Presidents Jiang Zemin and Suharto, issues related to democracy promotion (e.g., human rights protection) were either completely sidestepped or touched upon only briefly as a routine exercise. The most controversial act was Chancellor Kohl’s visit to a garrison of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) near Tianjin, the first such visit of a Western head of state since the Tiananmen massacre. While the German government justified the visit as a gesture to acknowledge the importance of the PLA as a political factor in China, the visit was misperceived by the symbol-conscious Chinese that Germany had entirely dropped its stress on democratic values in favor of realpolitik. Similarly, Germany’s relatively mild criticism of Russia’s war against its secessionist province of Chechenya gave rise to allegations that democracy and human rights have been relegated to a lower priority than in the early 1990s. The democracy promotion policies of Chancellor Schröder’s RedGreen coalition in reality have largely followed the guidelines of its conser-

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vative predecessors. Although Foreign Minister Fischer officially received the Dalai Lama and met with a leading Chinese dissident, the chancellor himself toned down human rights issues during his visit to Beijing in November 1999 (Hansen, 2000). Similarly, at the annual sessions of the UN Human Rights Commission (UNCHR) in Geneva, Germany only reluctantly adopted a more critical stance toward Beijing’s human rights record, while harsher criticism of Moscow over Chechenya did not transcend rhetoric (Hansen, 2000). Parliamentarians, especially, have been advocates of democracy. Delegations of parliamentarians traveling abroad have habitually admonished authoritarian rulers to respect human rights and to facilitate political openings. Moreover, under the Red-Green coalition, the Bundestag created the Committee on Human Rights Affairs which, however, has yet to produce substantial initiatives (Nuscheler, 1999). Outside of official government circles, broad sections of the NGO community remain the most persistent advocates for democracy and human rights in German foreign policy (Mair, 1997: 31). The Politische Stiftungen (political foundations), which occupy the unique status of publicly funded NGOs, are particularly influential (see Chapter 11). Political foundations were established by the political parties in the late 1950s and early 1960s as instruments to foster political education in Germany, to maintain close relations to sister parties abroad, and to promote democratic values in various regions of the developing world. Presently there are six major political foundations associated with German political parties: the Konrad Adenauer Foundation (Christian Democratic Union); the Friedrich Ebert Foundation (Social Democratic Party); the Friedrich Naumann Foundation (Liberal Party); the Hanns Seidel Foundation (Christian Social Union); the Heinrich Böll Foundation (Green Party); and the Rosa Luxemburg Foundation (Party of Democratic Socialism). Political foundations typically maintain offices in partner countries. They support the process of democratization through commissioned policy studies, consultancies, the provision of short- and long-term experts, field trips to neighboring countries and to Germany, scholarships, the production of teaching materials, and the organization and funding of seminars, symposia, workshops, and so-called track two dialogues.3 The latter allow for flexibility to react to new themes quickly or even to stimulate debate by creating a forum for topics that have been overlooked or deliberately ignored in target countries. Largely funded by the German government, political foundations nonetheless are relatively autonomous in their activities. This provides flexibility to Germany’s democracy promotion policies. In those cases where, due to strategic, economic, or diplomatic concerns, the “official” hands of the German government are tied, political foundations serve as the

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ideal vehicles for democracy promotion. Moreover, in case the political foundations go too far and their programs collide with the host government, the German government can reject responsibility for their activities and therefore avoid any rupture in official relations. Yet as a Friedrich Naumann Foundation seminar on Tibet demonstrated in 1996, this does not always work. The seminar and a subsequent Bundestag resolution on Tibet prompted a serious crisis in German-Chinese relations (Möller, 1996).

Evolving Debate over Conditionality Despite repeated assurances that development aid would not be reduced in the face of German unification and the political transformation of Eastern Europe, an increased propensity to impose sanctions has been guided by the certitude that the development budget is substantially shrinking. In this regard, the lack of democratic credentials could be—and has been—used to justify aid cuts in general and to concentrate aid on specific countries and regions (e.g., Asia and Eastern Europe) considered to be of overriding importance to German foreign policy (Waller, 1992; Betz, 1997; Hanisch, 1997; Nuscheler, 1999). Globalization and intensifying international economic competition nonetheless have made most German policymakers wary of linking trade to a country’s democratic progress. In the case of Asia, Germany’s approach stands in contrast to the European Commission’s growing tendency to target Asian countries for a wide variety of shortcomings, most notably the widespread practice of child labor, as well as to raise this and other issues at ASEAN-European Union dialogue meetings and at multilateral fora such as the World Trade Organization (WTO). Although in general supportive of the European Commission’s efforts, Germany has not been at the forefront of these moves. The primary reason for this stance is that Germany’s export-oriented economy is more dependent on foreign trade than those of the smaller European democracies, including the Scandinavian nations, the Netherlands, and Portugal (Rüland, 1996). Indeed, Germany has a relatively modest trade deficit with Asian countries as a whole and, in contrast to France or Italy, pursues a less protectionist trade policy. The use of economic sanctions in the pursuit of democracy promotion is widely criticized in German policymaking circles. Even the Red-Green coalition treats the issue with great care. Proponents of a more pragmatic foreign policy have argued that such conditionalities confine German foreign policy to a one-issue policy with reduced options. The development community in Germany and partner organizations in the developing world have further argued that economic sanctions punish the poor much more so than the targeted authoritarian regimes. Finally, democracy activists have

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criticized the selective and situational adoption of sanctions that amount to the application of double standards. In most cases sanctions have been imposed on small, economically insignificant countries that are highly dependent on development aid. Large powers with potentially lucrative markets, such as China, India, Indonesia, Pakistan, and Turkey, typically do not find themselves the targets of German economic sanctions or—as in the case of China after the Tiananmen massacre—they witness the withdrawal of sanctions after a short period (Wissing, 1994; Herrmann-Pillath, 1996; Betz, 1997: 208). The German government has reacted to these criticisms in various ways. First, in cases where development aid was terminated or suspended, the government has been prepared to continue programs that directly benefit the target country’s population, such as poverty alleviation and disaster relief operations. Preferably, the funds should be channeled through NGOs to minimize the legitimizing effects of these projects on authoritarian regimes (Tetzlaff, 1992: 490). In response to the critique of maintaining double standards, the government has underscored that sanctions cannot be rigidly and/or automatically imposed across the board (van de Sand and Mohs, 1991: 5). The imposition of sanctions is dependent on the specific political and sociocultural conditions in a country and hence requires sensitive decisionmaking. The most important response of the German government to its critics has been to focus increasingly on providing incentives for countries to promote or strengthen their democracies (Waller, 1992; Tetzlaff, 1992; Betz, 1997; Hanisch, 1997; Eidmann, 1999a, 1999b). In particular, projects promoting “good governance,” including promoting the rule of law and honest and efficient administration, constitute a key element in Germany’s recent democratization strategies. Many of these projects are carried out under the label of administrative cooperation (Verwaltungszusammenarbeit), and they target agencies that play key roles in initiating and supporting reforms in areas such as economic planning, financial management, tax administration, environmental management, social services, and local government (Bundesministerium für wirtschaftliche Zusammenarbeit und Entwicklung, 1997: 51). For example, support has been provided to political foundations to develop projects designed to advise partner countries in parliamentary and constitutional reforms, such as the improvement and professionalization of committee work.

Conclusion The impact and sustainability of democracy promotion measures remain a source of controversy within German policymaking circles. Attempts at

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developing a systematic checklist of statistical indicators to assess when to adopt conditionalities bore little fruit and were ultimately dropped by the German government in favor of qualitative indicators that allow for an assessment of very general political trends (Betz, 1997: 206; see also van de Sand and Mohs, 1991; and Erdmann, 1996). Although such an approach is far from satisfactory and lacks scientific objectivity, it nevertheless increases the foreign policy flexibility of the German government. Overall, German democracy promotion policies have been piecemeal and indirect in nature, lacking in financial commitment, and often reluctantly imposed without clear direction. The highly decentralized structure of the German aid and foreign policy apparatus ensures that much remains to be done to improve coordination among government organizations, as well as with German political foundations and NGOs and other northern industrialized democracies. The question remains, however, whether such policies, even if substantially funded and forcefully implemented, could ever become more than a complement to domestic political developments in recipient countries (Köβler, 1993). Indeed, many German critics of the political dimensions of democracy promotion argue that government-sponsored democratization projects are limited by the willingness of the recipient government to permit political liberalization. There is a strong sense in the German policymaking establishment that democratization projects are only successful in political environments that are already conducive to democratic change. Interestingly enough, criticism increasingly has been directed against the allegedly nontransparent activities of the political foundations and the impact and sustainability of their projects (Erdmann, 1996; Hanisch, 1997; Betz, 1997; Wolf, 1994). While admitting that the projects of the political foundations have not been evaluated with the same frequency and rigor as government-sponsored projects, supporters counter that even by taking into account occasional flaws, the foundations’ democracy promotion activities must be seen in a generally favorable light, the more so as their projects are usually carried out within the confines of very modest budgets. An important rationale for their continuation is that they provide Germany with valuable communication channels and networks of contacts that government agencies are often unable (or unwilling) to establish. Most German policymakers and academics would agree that the promotion of democratic values should continue to be a part of German foreign policy. Positive measures as outlined above should even be strengthened; more funds should be appropriated. Yet this does not mean that foreign policy should be turned into a single-issue policy, exclusively designed to gain the moral high ground. Only economically strong and independent powers can afford such a policy, and even then at considerable cost. Democracy promotion policies therefore must be formulated in accor-

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dance with other national interests, most notably the pursuit of the longterm health and strength of the German economy. The adoption of “purist” democracy promotion policies, irrespective of their consequences for the German economy, is not affordable in a country facing the major structural changes associated with unification. This is a lesson the Red-Green coalition had to learn as well. In the long run, such essentially narrow policies could undermine the very foundations on which the lofty values of democracy are actually built: economic prosperity, social peace, and security.

Notes 1. Behrendt (1965) deviated from the mainstream, making a forceful plea for a development strategy that promoted “fundamental democratization.” 2. For perhaps the most elucidating statement in this respect, see Foreign Minister Fischer’s speech opening the Forum Globale Fragen in April 1999 (Auswärtiges Amt, 1999: 11). 3. In Asia, track two dialogues were originally initiated by the Institute of Security and International Studies in ASEAN member countries to provide a framework to discuss controversial issues without damaging official relations. Depending on the issue involved, these meetings would bring together politicians, senior officials, academics, entrepreneurs, representatives of NGOs, journalists, and highranking military officers. All would attend in a personal capacity. Issues are debated until an agreeable compromise solution emerges that can then be transferred to track one (i.e., official) diplomacy.

6 Japan: A Passive Partner in the Promotion of Democracy Tsuneo Akaha

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apan has been slow in recognizing democracy promotion as a fundamental premise of peaceful international relations. This economic giant has been a passive follower rather than an active promoter of global trends toward democratization (Yokota, 1995: 141–143; Mukae, 1995). This passive role has been admitted even by the Japanese government. “Japan has as a principle refrained from attaching political conditions to its aid,” explained the Japanese Foreign Ministry at the beginning of the 1990s. “This approach differs sharply from that taken by the United States and France, which use their foreign aid to promote what they regard as universal values of freedom and democracy and the French language and culture, respectively” (Watanabe and Kusano, 1991: 45–46). Although this situation has begun to change, albeit only slightly, at the beginning of the twentyfirst century Japan has not adopted a firm democracy promotion stance commensurate with its status as the second most economically powerful country among the northern industrialized democracies. The primary purpose of this chapter is to describe Japan’s approach to democracy promotion at home and abroad. An emphasis is placed on underscoring why Japan has not actively pursued its potentially influential role in democratization processes in Asia and other regions of the developing world. An analysis of domestic and international constraints is followed by a description of Tokyo’s Official Development Assistance (ODA) Charter, the most explicit expression so far of Japan’s desire to use its economic power for security and political goals, including the promotion of democratization and human rights. A special emphasis is placed on assessing the seriousness and effectiveness of Japan’s new policy in effectuating democratic changes in the countries receiving Japanese economic aid. A final section offers some general observations about Japan’s experience with democracy and its role in democracy promotion.

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Hindrances to Japanese Support for Democracy A variety of domestic and international factors impose enormous constraints on Japan’s ability to firmly embrace democracy promotion as a core value of Japanese foreign policy. Contemporary Japanese culture does not encourage the Japanese people to “export” political values. At the risk of oversimplification, one can say that Japanese policymaking processes gravitate toward moderate consensus on policy issues and discourage a public display of conflict over fundamental values underlying policies (Haley, 1992; Richardson, 1997: 7–8). As well, Japanese preference for group harmony over conflict tends to mitigate against the development of strong, aggressive leadership skills. In fact, not seeking leadership until called upon is considered a virtue (Pempel, 1982: 3). These contemporary proclivities of the Japanese people can be observed in their economic-technological performance as well as in their international behavior. It is often observed, for example, that Japan is quick and good at importing hard and soft technologies (products and ideas) from abroad and adapting them to the Japanese situation, often improving on the original models and outcompeting the foreign sources (Borrus and Zysman, 1992: 19–21). Similarly, it is often said that Japanese diplomats spend more time listening to others and taking notes than talking and advocating ideas, even when their longheld values are under international attack (Friedheim, 1996). These tendencies do not make for assertive foreign policy behavior. Moreover, the Japanese remember that the last time they aggressively pursued Japan’s national interests in international politics, they ended up suffering more than a bloody defeat in war. The Japanese are still suffering the loss of credibility and legitimacy in international affairs, particularly in the Asian regional context (Akaha, 1997). The Japanese people’s concept of and experience with democracy prevents them from viewing individual rights as the foundation of democracy. The communal orientation of most Japanese often prevents identification of clearly demarcated rights and responsibilities, which is the fundamental premise of liberal democracy. Political and policy processes in Japan do not reflect widespread conviction or passion for democratic values and beliefs at the individual level (Reischauer, 1977: 327–328). While this tendency has prevented the proliferation of civil litigation that one sees in the United States, it certainly has not helped the cause of individual rights and freedoms in Japan. Japanese preference for public order and social harmony over individual rights and freedoms tends to ignore the welfare and rights of minorities in the country, be they racial, ethnic, or gender minorities (see Reischauer, 1977: 35–36; De Vos and Wetherall, 1974; Smith, 1995; and Lee and De Vos, 1981). There are deep-rooted prejudices against the group of Japanese

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known as burakumin, who used to engage in occupations that were regarded as unclean, such as handling carcasses and tanning leather. Discrimination against ethnic Koreans in Japan continues, as it does for foreign workers and women in the workplace. And Japan has historically discriminated against and persecuted the Ainu, the indigenous people of northern Japan. Another important reason for the lack of emphasis on democracy promotion in Japanese foreign policy is a widespread belief among the Japanese that the development of a democratic society requires some degree of political stability and that this in turn requires economic development. To a large extent, this belief is based on their own, largely successful postwar experience. In the immediate postwar years, the Japanese were preoccupied with economic recovery and material welfare while the U.S.led occupation authorities conducted sweeping democratization reforms in the country. As the Cold War began in Asia toward the end of the 1940s, however, the democratization campaign quickly gave way to a campaign of ensuring political stability and suppressing leftist dissent (Scalapino and Masumi, 1971: 22–53). Left-leaning political groups and the labor movement were intimidated and frustrated as the United States took measures to make sure Tokyo stayed in its ideological fold. The conservative political forces in Japan found it in their own interest to cooperate, and in this they were supported by growing business interests who also wanted domestic political stability, as well as cheap domestic labor and access to U.S. markets for their fledging exports (Masumi, 1995: 15–157). Staying focused on domestic political stability and economic development, the conservative coalition of political and economic forces, supported by the United States, were able to turn their country into an economic superpower. In the process of economic growth the Japanese were able to introduce and enjoy institutions of democracy. Therefore, many Japanese can appreciate the Chinese leadership’s repeated statement that political stability and economic development are more important than individual rights and freedoms in today’s China (e.g., see Eto, 1996). Japan’s postwar political system has further limited its ability to formulate and implement a coherent policy on democratization. Again at the risk of oversimplification, one can say that in postwar Japanese politics a public display of dissent has long been reserved for parties out of power, but until recently the opposition has often, if not always, been excluded from participating in a meaningful way in foreign policymaking. The foreign policy process has been dominated until 2001 by a hegemonic coalition—the so-called Iron Triangle—composed of the former conservative ruling party, the Liberal Democratic Party; the elite bureaucrats in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of International Trade and Industry (MITI); and the business community (Hosoya, 1977: 5–10; Tanaka, 1994: 93–110). This strongly pro-U.S. and procapitalist coalition

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has generally been reluctant to criticize authoritarian regimes in Asia and other regions of the developing world. In the fight against communism and in search of dependable trade and investment partners, Japan has placed higher priority on promoting political stability and a better business environment than on free elections. Japan’s bitter experience as an imperialist-militarist power, culminating in defeat during World War II, has imposed enormous constraints on its international political role. A noted human rights and international law expert in Japan laments: “Looking back with remorse on their prewar and wartime history of human-rights violations in colonies and occupied territories, the Japanese concluded that they were not qualified to comment on human rights in other countries. Consequently, they tended to focus their attention on human-rights issues within Japan” (Yokota, 1995: 138). This sentiment is widely held among the Japanese people. Many Japanese feel very reluctant to advocate human rights protection in neighboring Asian countries because their country committed unspeakable atrocities against these peoples during World War II. However, this is not the only reason why the Japanese government has not loudly spoken up against human rights violations in Asia. Another important reason for Japan’s poor record in international democracy promotion is that its foreign policy has long been geared toward promoting economic and commercial interests, and its foreign aid policy has been a means of achieving this goal. This is a point on which virtually all observers of Japanese economic assistance agree (Rix, 1980; Yasutomo, 1986; Orr, 1990; Schraeder, Hook, and Taylor, 1998). The case often cited in this connection is Tokyo’s support of the Indonesian government in the 1970s in forcibly suppressing the independence movement in the former Portuguese colony, where there were many instances of human rights violations. Japan’s position has been attributed to its anticommunist policy and its eagerness to protect its economic (oil) interests in Indonesia (Kawabe, 1994: 156–159). For a long time after Japan started providing official economic assistance to the developing world, Tokyo refrained from asserting itself politically and strategically. For example, one Japanese analyst writes that Japan’s foreign aid goal until 1965 was to expand markets for Japanese exports and secure access to important raw materials. Until 1973 the goal of foreign aid was to discharge Japan’s responsibility as an advanced industrialized democracy to expand economic assistance to developing countries and to strengthen economic relationships with them. Following the first oil crisis of 1973–1974 until about 1980, Japan was preoccupied with “economic security,” with an emphasis again on access to strategic raw materials (Inada, 1990: 117–118).

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Linkage Between Economic Aid and Democratization Policies The promotion of democracy by Japanese policymakers is a more recent concern (Honma, 1990, cited in Mukae, 1995: 249). Since the 1970s Japan has shown some willingness to interject political and strategic considerations, including principles of human rights, into its foreign aid policy. This change was more a result of alliance politics than a reflection of bursting desire to promote democratization universally. Initially the effort to link Tokyo’s foreign aid policy to democratization was developed as part of burden sharing with the United States in the context of the Cold War, to demonstrate Tokyo’s willingness to support proWestern governments such as Indonesia, the Philippines, and South Korea. Within the same context, Japan also extended economic aid to a wide range of countries, including Angola, Egypt, Jamaica, Kenya, Oman, Pakistan, Sudan, Turkey, Thailand, and Zimbabwe, considered by the United States as strategically important or bordering international conflicts, in order to counter the influence of the Soviet Union and its allies, most notably Cuba and Vietnam (Tanaka, 1995: 126–144). These points are well documented by many observers of Japanese economic assistance (Yokota, 1995). Japan’s commitment to human rights protection has been less than universal and more reactive than proactive. It was only after pressure from the Carter administration that Japan decided to sign the International Covenants on Human Rights in 1978 (see Mukae, 1995: 259). In 1981 Japan joined the convention relating to the status of refugees and the 1966 Protocol to the convention relating to the status of refugees. This also was prompted by external pressure, namely the increasing numbers of Indochinese refugees reaching Japanese shores after the fall of Saigon in 1975. Initially, Japan would allow only temporary stays for Vietnamese refugees, but as the number of Vietnamese and other Indochinese refugees continued to rise and international pressure for liberalization of Japanese refugee policy mounted, the government was forced to allow permanent settlement in Japan by qualified refugees (Mukae, 1995: 259–260). Japan had ratified four of the six human rights conventions by 1994, including the covenant on economic, social, and cultural rights, the covenant on civil and political rights, the convention on the elimination of all forms of discrimination against women, and the convention on the rights of the child. However, it was not until 1995 and 1999, respectively, that Japan ratified the convention on the elimination of all forms of racial discrimination and the convention against torture and other cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment. Japan’s approach to foreign policy is slowly changing, as Tokyo feels

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increasingly confident in asserting itself in international political and security affairs. This is evident in Japanese support of the U.S.-led international coalition against Saddam Hussein during the Gulf War and its participation in international peacekeeping operations. Japan’s commitment of $13 billion to the U.S.-led coalition marked a major departure from its previous policy of staying out of international conflicts altogether. Even though the international community was highly critical of the slow decisionmaking process in Tokyo and its exclusively financial role during the Gulf War, Japan was able to share a substantial portion of the burden of fighting the first major regional conflict after the end of the Cold War. This experience paved the way for Japan’s participation in a United Nations peacekeeping operation in Kampuchea (Cambodia), including the dispatch of Japanese Self-Defense Force (SDF) personnel as part of the United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC), and international support of free elections in the country in 1993. This was made possible by the passage in June 1992 of new legislation authorizing the deployment of SDF personnel to international peacekeeping missions based on United Nations Security Council resolutions. The law nonetheless placed strict limitations on Japanese participation.1 Before the dispatch of SDF personnel to UNTAC, Japanese participation in UN peacekeeping missions had been limited to the dispatch of civilian election monitors and/or political officials. These missions included UNGOMAP in Afghanistan and Pakistan (1988–1989); UNIIMOG in Iran and Iraq (1988–1989); UNTAG in Namibia (1989–1990); UNIKOM in Iraq and Kuwait (1991); and UNAMIC in Cambodia (1991–1992); In 1994–1995, Japan participated in UNPROFOR in former Yugoslavia. In the aftermath of Japan’s participation in UNTAC in 1993, the country’s role in United Nations missions has expanded to include the dispatch of SDF personnel as well as civilian law enforcement officials. These include UNAVEM II in Angola (1992); UNUMOZ in Mozambique (1993–94); ONUSAL in El Salvador (1994); and UNDOF in the Golan Heights (1996– present) (Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 1999: 408–409). Japan has also increased its participation in the international monitoring of free elections around the world. In the case of Namibia, Japan dispatched twenty-seven election monitors to the newly independent country. Japan also supported free elections by sending six monitors to Nicaragua in 1990, three to Angola in 1992, forty-one to Cambodia in 1993, fifteen to El Salvador in 1994, twenty-two to South Africa in 1994, fifteen to Mozambique in 1995, five to Haiti in 1995, and seventy-seven to Palestine in 1996 (Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 1996: 281–282). The most explicit expression of Japan’s desire to use its enormous economic resources for security and political goals, including democracy promotion, is the adoption by the Japanese government of an ODA charter in

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June 1992 (hereinafter referred to as the charter or the foreign aid charter). The charter states that Japan’s foreign aid policy is based on four basic ideas: humanitarianism, recognition of interdependence between donor and recipient countries, the importance of environmental protection, and selfhelp efforts by aid recipients. In making foreign aid decisions, the charter states that Tokyo will pay “full attention” to a recipient country’s actions to promote democratization, to introduce a market-oriented economy, and to ensure basic human rights and freedoms. The charter also states that Tokyo will closely monitor trends in recipient countries’ military expenditures, development and production of weapons of mass destruction and missiles, and arms imports and exports. According to the 1992 guidelines, Tokyo will discourage the use of foreign aid for military purposes or for aggravation of international conflicts and pursue environmental conservation in tandem with development (Asahi Shimbun, 27 June 1992: 1; Gaimusho, 1995: 80–81; Hirabayashi, 1995). Prior to the adoption of the foreign aid charter, Tokyo’s foreign policy was often criticized for its commercially oriented, Asia-focused, and loandominant nature. That is, until recently a preponderance of Japanese foreign aid was in the form of loans rather than grants, the loans were often “tied” to Japanese providers, and most assistance was extended to Asian countries where Japan’s economic interests were concentrated, to the neglect of countries in other parts of the world. For example, in fiscal year 1990 (April 1990–March 1991), 73 percent of Japanese loans to the developing world were extended to Asian countries, as opposed to 7 percent each for the Middle East and Africa, 11 percent for Latin America, and 2 percent for Oceania and Eastern Europe. Japan’s Asia focus throughout the 1990s increased, with 90 percent of its loan pledges destined for Asia during the second half of the 1990s. The predominant Asia focus of Japanese foreign aid policy continues with the start of the new century, as does the emphasis on loans rather than grants. In Asia there is growing appreciation of Japan’s positive contributions to the region’s peace and prosperity through its pacifist and economics-centered policy (Jihua, 1993: 185–200; Chittiwatanapong, 1993). Elsewhere in the world, Japan’s economic presence has generated some expectations for expanded political roles, but those expectations have so far proven unrealistic. This is particularly the case in Latin America (Elton, 1993) and Africa (Schraeder, 1999). Tokyo also believes that loans requiring repayment are a more effective way to develop effective economic management on the part of aid recipients, and therefore it limits the grant element of its foreign aid. During the Cold War, Japan’s political and strategic interests were clearly tied to its cooperation with the United States in the political and strategic rivalry against the Soviet Union and its allies. This was particular-

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ly the case in Southeast Asia, the Middle East, and Africa, where political instability was seen as a prime target for communist expansion. Japan’s interest in democracy promotion in the developing world is a more recent phenomenon. Even more recent is Japan’s participation in international support for democratization and market development in the so-called transitional economies in Central and East Asia, the former Soviet republics, and Eastern Europe. Japan’s adoption of the 1992 foreign aid charter and its increasing willingness to use economic assistance for democratization purposes in a more explicit manner than in the past has been encouraged by the growing international acceptance of the so-called political conditionality in economic assistance. In May 1990, when the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development (EBRD) was founded, the new organization adopted the principle of political conditionality in promoting democratization and market reform in the former socialist economies of Europe (Oshiba, 1994: 137– 138). Moreover, the United States and its Cold War allies find themselves in a better position materially and morally to pursue democratization in their former enemies (Oshiba, 1994: 139). Humanitarian missions, international environmental cooperation, the proliferation of nongovernmental human rights organizations, and deepening economic interdependence throughout the world are also strengthening—and being strengthened by— political and moral arguments in favor of political conditionality. Finally, there is growing acceptance of the proposition that democracies do not go to war against each other (Oshiba, 1994: 138–139). Although its empirical verification remains highly problematic, the democratic-peace hypothesis provides additional ammunition to the advocates of economic assistance to the newly independent states of Europe and Central Asia and to the former socialist countries of East Asia, most importantly Mongolia and Vietnam (see Chapter 2). Another question often raised about the effectiveness of foreign economic assistance in democracy promotion is how serious and committed donor countries are with the promises of rewards and threats of punishment they might offer as part of their conditionality approach. “Positive sanctions” appear more readily deliverable than “negative sanctions.” Evidence from international cases is far from conclusive (Cassen, 1986, cited in Takeda, 1995: 141–147). The political conditionality that Japan has recently incorporated into its foreign aid policy is quite ambiguous, and Tokyo appears ambivalent about its implementation (Takeda, 1995: 147). From a purely theoretical perspective, an assessment of political and social effects of the offer or withdrawal of economic assistance in the developing world might be called for. However, because such an assessment would be very controversial or unacceptable altogether for political reasons, the Japanese foreign aid system has no provision for such assess-

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ments (Okabe, 1992: 208). Tokyo is clearly quite sensitive to any criticisms of interference in the international affairs of its foreign aid recipients. Japan has traditionally adopted the position, known as yoseishugi, that it would consider economic aid on the basis of requests initiated by recipient countries. Moreover, Japan’s foreign aid administration and personnel resources are woefully inadequate to undertake a thorough assessment of the impact of its economic assistance, much less the political and social consequences of its foreign aid programs. Under these circumstances, perhaps the best the donor country could do would be to engage the recipient government in dialogue and persuade it to develop indigenous political and social institutions for an equitable sharing of the benefits of economic development. It may be helpful to involve members of the intellectual elite in the recipient country in this dialogue in view of the accentuated importance of the role of elites in developing countries in general (see Kohli, 1986, cited in Takeda, 1995: 135, 152). According to Japanese policymakers, there are also some serious questions about the long-term effect of democratization intervention. For example, international monitoring of elections in developing countries is one thing, but the postelection establishment of democratic institutions and practices is quite another. Long-term democratization obviously requires commitment of far greater human and material resources than the monitoring of elections. Witness, for example, the cases of Haiti and Angola, where a coup d’état and a civil war erupted after democratic elections in 1990 and 1992, respectively. In Myanmar, as discussed in the following section, a military junta nullified democratic elections in 1990 and deprived elected officials of their legitimate right to govern. A number of experts have proposed steps to improve Tokyo’s ability to promote democratization in developing countries through its foreign aid policy. One idea is to specifically interject human rights-focused projects in foreign aid. Such projects might include the construction of modern prisons, improvement of justice systems, and education of police and military personnel in human rights. Also suggested are projects to train members of minority groups in recipient countries who are subject to discrimination. So far this idea has proven too political for Japanese officials to consider seriously. Another proposal is to conduct a human rights assessment as part of the process of selecting foreign aid projects. Environmental assessments have become an important if not always effective part of Japanese foreign aid. By the same token, some critics argue, the Japanese government should include human rights assessments as a formal requirement. So far the Japanese government has remained publicly silent on the desirability of an explicit evaluation of progress on the human rights front in recipient countries. Similarly, the government has been cool to the idea of introducing human rights principles and conditions into foreign aid projects, for exam-

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ple, consideration that a foreign aid contract should stipulate nondiscrimination against and promotion of minorities in the workplace. In other words, what is required is an affirmative action program as part of Japanese foreign aid, an idea bound to raise criticisms in recipient countries. Even more controversial would be making the size and nature of Japanese foreign aid proportional to the quality of human rights records of recipient countries (see Yokota, 1995: 145–146). A number of cases illustrate Japan’s preferred “quiet approach” to democracy promotion. For example, after the military coup in Thailand in 1991, Japan’s policy toward that country remained essentially the same: to provide economic assistance, including support for large infrastructure projects, and to encourage Japanese commercial investments. As noted earlier, Tokyo’s response to Indonesia’s suppression of proindependence demonstrations in East Timor in 1991 differed substantially from the approach taken by many northern industrialized democracies with stronger human rights initiatives. Similarly, Tokyo was not moved by President Fujimori’s emergency rule of Peru, including the suspension of the national legislature in 1992, to review its pro-Lima policy, which included extension of economic assistance and promotion of commercial investments in the Latin American country. The logic behind these and other cases, which serves as the cornerstone of Japan’s democratization policy, was aptly captured by a Japanese analyst: “Democracy is a universal value, and the world shares in this value. However, paths to democracy vary according to each country’s situation, and it is not wise to impose democratization in a uniform and rash manner. The repeatedly observable pattern in many developing countries, particularly in Asia, is that economic stability is established first and then political stability comes, leading to political democratization” (Yokota, 1995: 170). Under domestic and international pressure, Japan belatedly added a democratization dimension to its foreign aid program in 1996—the Partnership for Democratic Development (PDD), an initiative explicitly designed to support democratization efforts in the developing world. PDD assistance is intended to help recipient countries develop legal, administrative, electoral, and police systems and institutions, as well as build the human resources capacity necessary for democratization and human rights protection. Most of the aid under this initiative is extended bilaterally, but some assistance has gone to support the activities of the Voluntary Fund for Advisory Services and Technical Assistance and the UN Crime Prevention and Criminal Justice Program. Japan organizes lectures and introduces Japanese systems through the dispatch of experts, the acceptance of trainees, and the invitation of government officials to visit Japan and others from the recipient countries. Under this initiative, Japan has extended financial and technical assistance to such countries as Cambodia, China, El

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Salvador, Indonesia, Kenya, Pakistan, the Philippines, Poland, South Africa, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and Vietnam. Since 1994 Japan has also provided electoral support to about forty countries around the world. In 1998 alone, Japan extended financial, technical, and personnel training support to Bosnia-Herzegovina, Cambodia, the Central African Republic, Equador, Guinea, Lesotho, and Nigeria (Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 2000). Japan’s assistance to Indonesia is illuminating. Indonesia is Japan’s fifth most important trade partner in the world, with bilateral trade in 1998 valued at $10.8 billion, or 3.9 percent of Japan’s global trade. Indonesia is also the second largest recipient of Japanese foreign aid, after China. In 1998 Japan disbursed $828 million in ODA to Indonesia—a figure representing 9.6 percent of Japan’s bilateral assistance (Japan 2000, 2000: 60, 68). Japanese aid represents about 60 percent of the aid Indonesia receives annually. Obviously, political stability in Indonesia is of great concern to Japan. In June 1999 Japan extended assistance to Indonesia to support the general election under the new government of President B. J. Habibie, offering $34.5 million through the United Nations Development Program (UNDP), which coordinated international support. In addition, the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), a quasi-government agency in charge of Japanese technical assistance to developing countries, sent seventeen experts to the Indonesian general election commission and three experts to the UNDP. Finally, a former ambassador to Indonesia headed a Japanese government observer mission to Indonesia from June 3 to 9, 2000 (Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 2000). During the East Timor crisis in 1999–2000, Japan came under international criticism for its less-than-vigilant approach to Indonesia. It was widely believed that Indonesian troops and East Timorese police worked with pro-Indonesian militias in the mass killings, destruction of infrastructure, and forced relocation of thousands of East Timorese to West Timor that occurred in the wake of the East Timorese referendum for independence in August 1999. The Japanese government refused to criticize directly the Indonesian government for these atrocities. Moreover, when the UN Transitional Administration in East Timor (UNTAET) was established in October 1999 to oversee the establishment of a civilian government in East Timor, Japan did not participate in peacekeeping, explaining that it could not take part in peacekeeping because no cease-fire was in place—one of the conditions under the international peace cooperation law that had been used to send peacekeepers to Cambodia. Japan limited its participation in the East Timor crisis to financial aid, humanitarian assistance, emergency rehabilitation, and postconflict economic and social development. It dispatched a contingent of the Air SelfDefense Force to airlift four hundred tons of relief goods to refugees in West Timor from November 1999 to February 2000 and sent a few police

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officers to East Timor to train local residents as police officers. In December 1999 Japan invited East Timorese rival factions to Tokyo to urge reconciliation and cooperation in postconflict development, and it also pledged $100 million in emergency, technical, and humanitarian assistance over three years. When three UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) employees were slain by East Timorese militias in September 2000, Japan participated in a UN-appointed fact-finding mission. In short, its role was strictly in the civilian sector.

Political Conditionality and Japanese Foreign Policy Practice The degree to which the Japanese government has been seriously applying political conditionality in its foreign aid policy is best demonstrated by an analysis of Japanese foreign aid to three disparate cases: China, Myanmar, and Russia. The most visible and most difficult case that has tested and continues to test Japan’s commitment to democracy promotion is China and its human rights violations. Although Japan has expressed a degree of concern over China’s human rights record, Tokyo has taken pains to ensure that the issue does not affect its relationship with Beijing. Historical, political, strategic, and economic factors affect Tokyo’s approach to China. The most significant is the historical factor. Japan’s influence over China is severely compromised by Imperial Japan’s aggression against China in the 1930s and 1940s. Beijing rarely fails to bring up this dark chapter in the history of bilateral relations between the countries. The most recent incident involving Chinese criticism of Japan’s past aggression occurred in November 1998, when Premier Jiang Zemin visited Japan for a series of high-level meetings, including ones with the Japanese prime minister and emperor. The Chinese leader, by repeatedly and pointedly reminding his hosts of the history issue, irked the Japanese and seriously affected the political climate surrounding their relations. Tokyo also underscores the enormous importance of its giant neighbor to the peace and stability of the entire Asia-Pacific region and is determined to keep Beijing engaged in bilateral and multilateral dialogue for the construction of a post–Cold War regional order. For this reason, Tokyo does not want to see the human rights issue isolate Beijing internationally. Most Japanese further believe that China’s internal stability is essential to the region’s peace and stability and that this requires sustained economic development in China. Most important, Japan has substantial economic interests in China, which is its second most important trade partner after the United States, and Japan is China’s largest trade partner, with the two-way trade in 1998 amounting to approximately $37 billion. For these reasons,

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Tokyo believes its substantial economic assistance to Beijing is both necessary and justified even if China’s human rights record is poor. Indeed, Japan is China’s largest foreign aid donor and provided $1.2 billion in economic aid in 1998, making China the largest recipient of Japanese aid (Japan 2000, 2000: 60, 68). In the aftermath of China’s brutal subjugation of the prodemocracy movement at Tiananmen Square in 1989, Tokyo was the most reluctant Group of Seven (G-7) country (now G-8 with the addition of Russia) to join the decision to impose diplomatic and economic sanctions against Beijing. On the contrary, Tokyo strongly advocated limiting sanctions and the early lifting of sanctions. Even while Western sanctions were in effect, Japan allowed China to proceed with Japanese foreign aid projects already in progress. At the same time, however, Japan repeatedly informed China it would not be able to lift its sanctions until Beijing took measures that would be acceptable to the international community and that demonstrated its resolve to continue with the reform and open policy. Japan’s ambivalent attitude was thus reflected in the seemingly contradictory elements in its action and words. At the Houston summit of G-8 leaders in 1990, Japanese Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu stressed the “special relationship” between Japan and China and obtained the other summit leaders’ tacit approval of his decision to resume new government loans to China. Tokyo’s explanation for its position was that even though democratization was an important issue, stopping economic assistance to China would not necessarily promote democratization in that country. To the contrary, Tokyo argued, continuing support for China’s reform and open policy rather than isolating the country was important not only to China but also to the stability of Asia (Inada, 1995a: 6, 9–10). Japan’s emphasis on its special relationship with China was at odds with the more critical policy of the United States and the other northern industrialized democracies. Japanese leaders publicly acknowledged the difference between their approach to China and that of the United States, their closest ally. Chinese leaders took full advantage of Japan’s position. For example, following the meeting between Japanese Prime Minister Morihiro Hosokawa and Chinese Premier Li Peng in Beijing in March 1994, a Chinese foreign ministry spokesman reported that the Japanese leader told his Chinese counterpart, “It is not wise to impose a Western democratic value on other countries,” a reference to the visible criticism U.S. Secretary of State Warren Christopher had raised about China’s human rights record during his visit to Beijing, which just preceded Hosokawa’s visit (Asahi Shimbun, 21 March 1994: 3). Tokyo’s position no doubt compromised its stand on democracy and human rights around the world. At the same time, however, Japanese policymakers refused to believe that China would have changed (improved) its human rights policy to any significant

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degree if Japan had joined the position on China of the United States and the other northern industrialized democracies. This is the basic dilemma that continues to confront the international community. Long after Tiananmen, many Japanese analysts continue to believe that Japan is justified in maintaining a unique approach to China and that it should continue to support China’s economic development to ensure political stability in the country (Inada, 1995b: 162). This view reflects the continuing apprehension among Japanese analysts concerning China’s ability to maintain political order peacefully against the backdrop of rising social expectations, growing ethnic aspirations, and increasing regional and class disparities (Nakajima, 1992: 164–179). It is important to note that this view is shared by many Chinese intellectuals as well. They are quietly critical and regretful of the brutal end to the prodemocracy movement at Tiananmen Square in 1989, but they believe China’s stability must be maintained to improve the plight of average Chinese before the country is ready to accommodate the intellectuals’ aspirations for freedom and democracy. Myanmar represents a different case because the country is small enough that outside pressure can have a substantial impact on the behavior of the government. Although Myanmar was the first case in which Japan imposed economic sanctions for reasons of democratization (Inada, 1995b: 155), here too Tokyo was reluctant to use foreign aid and did not abandon a more subtle approach, choosing engagement and dialogue over isolation and overt pressure. In March 1988 a prodemocracy student demonstration in Yangon escalated into violence, and by June violence had spread to provincial cities. By the end of August the antigovernment movement had reached its height, with public officials and soldiers also participating in demonstrations. On September 18, the military launched a coup d’état and took over the government. By September 7, the U.S. government had announced it would discontinue all economic assistance except humanitarian aid. As late as mid-August, however, Tokyo was planning to proceed with its economic assistance to Burma, but the chaos in the country forced postponement of the delivery of food production aid and medical equipment worth $7.8 million. By September Tokyo had decided not to resume aid until a peaceful resolution to the situation came about. In February 1989, when violence had quieted down, Tokyo moved to recognize the military government before any of the other northern industrialized democracies and resumed economic assistance that was already under contract, although it placed a freeze on new aid projects. In 1990, when the UN General Assembly was debating the proper international response to the Burmese military’s suppression of democracy advocates, the Japanese delegation worked to postpone a vote on a

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Swedish-proposed resolution stating that all political detainees should be released immediately and confirming and fully restoring their right to participate in the political process. In 1991 Japan rejected Sweden’s request to jointly sponsor another General Assembly resolution noting that many democratically elected leaders of Myanmar, including the Nobel Peace Prize winner Aun San Su Kyi, had been deprived of their freedom and demanding that the Yangon government allow all citizens to participate in the political process. Japan’s decision not to support the Swedish initiative was motivated both by its concern not to isolate the Myanmar government internationally and by its fear of negative consequences for Japanese economic aid to the country, which incidentally was the largest from a single country (Inada, 1995b: 169–175). With the general elections in May 1990, which gave opposition candidates a major victory, democracy appeared to be returning to Myanmar. However, the military government placed opposition leader Aun San Su Kyi and other civilian leaders under house arrest and refused to turn the government over to civilian control. Tokyo decided to suspend all economic aid except humanitarian assistance. In March, as a sign of constructive engagement, Tokyo had announced it would extend approximately $9 million in grants for food production programs but continued the suspension of all loans (Asahi Shimbun, 9 March 1995: 2). This continued until July 1995, when the military government in Yangon released the Nobel Peace Prize winner from house arrest. Japan welcomed the move and announced it would gradually unfreeze loans to Myanmar, with the timing of aid restoration contingent on progress toward democratization. Tokyo believed this was the best way to prod Myanmar along toward democracy (Asahi Shimbun, 11 July 1995: 2, 3; Asahi Shimbun, 19 July 1995: 2). It is difficult to say that Tokyo’s carrot-and-stick approach was critical to the change in Myanmar, but in view of the fact that its economic assistance represented 70–80 percent of all international aid to the country, Tokyo’s influence clearly could not be underestimated. In February 1998 the Japanese government decided, against criticisms in the United States and the other northern industrialized democracies, to resume loans to Myanmar. Tokyo was prepared to extend approximately $21 million in loans for the expansion of the Yangon international airport; evidently, safety concerns overrode democracy and human rights issues. The Japanese Foreign Ministry justified the decision on the basis of the urgent need to ensure safety in air transport in view of the deteriorating condition of the runways and control tower at the airport (Asahi Shimbun, 26 February 1998: 2). In Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union, Japan is showing increasing commitment to international assistance for the development of democracies and market economies. Here again, however, Japanese support

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is more extensive, more direct, and more varied on the economic than the political front. Japan’s assistance for what is often referred to as “transitional economies” began in 1990, when Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu announced a series of aid programs for Poland and Hungary during his tour of Europe. In announcing these initiatives, the prime minister emphasized that Japan wanted to cooperate with the United States and Europe in building a new world order and that successful reforms in the former Soviet bloc countries were important to the stability of the Asia-Pacific region. An observer of Japanese aid policy notes, however, that these initiatives did not represent a major shift in Tokyo’s aid philosophy, suggesting that they were consistent with the policy the government had enunciated since 1980 to use foreign aid as an element of Japanese participation in the Western alliance. Moreover, the analyst adds, Tokyo wanted to establish the introduction of democratic principles and other criteria for extending assistance to former socialist countries as a means of preventing unconditional expansion of Western aid to the Soviet Union (Inada, 1995b: 159). Among the former Soviet Union and East European countries, Russia is of the greatest importance to Japan, both politically and economically. The goals and objectives of Japanese assistance programs are purported to include support for Russia’s transition to a market economy, democratization, and establishment of diplomatic relations based on “law and justice.” The last of these refers to Tokyo’s most important political interest in Russia: settlement of the Japanese-Russian dispute over the Russian-controlled islands known as the “Northern Territories” in Japan and the “Southern Kuriles” in Russia. Japan has made aid to Russia conditional to Moscow’s concessions on this issue, and since Moscow has offered no such concessions, Tokyo has been unwilling to provide extensive financial assistance, preferring humanitarian and technical assistance instead (see Akaha, 1993; 1994). In contrast, democratization receives scant attention in Japanese assistance programs. Since 1991 Japan has earmarked $1.2 billion for loans through the Export-Import Bank for various projects to develop telecommunications, energy supply, and small-to-medium enterprises, as well as to privatized corporations. Japan has also allocated $2.9 billion for trade insurance to cover major Russian industries, while making it amply clear that its economic interests are first and foremost in the Russian Far East region, which offers an important potential market for Japanese investment and an equally attractive source of natural resources. Japan has long declined to provide direct, bilateral economic assistance to Russia, limiting its aid either to multilateral channels within the G-8 framework or technical and humanitarian aid on a bilateral basis. Tokyo has justified this position by asserting that Russia is not a developing country, and therefore, according to the foreign aid criteria established by the

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Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), of which Japan is a member, it is not eligible for official economic assistance. While technically correct, the justification more accurately serves as an excuse for the Japanese government’s reluctance to extend direct assistance, particularly financial, to Russia unless and until Moscow concedes even partially to Tokyo’s demand for the return of the disputed Kurile Islands. Tokyo has also communicated to Russia that Japanese businesses would be reluctant—as they have been—to invest in Russia unless and until legal and administrative improvements are made to provide substantially more hospitable market conditions. The situation appeared to be changing, with Tokyo and Moscow agreeing in 1997 to do their best to conclude a peace treaty by the end of the century, with the prospective treaty interpreted in Japan as including a territorial settlement but in Russia as not necessarily representing a final territorial solution (Akaha, 1998a). However, Japan’s improving attitude toward Russia is a reflection not so much of its appreciation of democratization processes underway in the latter as of its eagerness to reach a territorial settlement and diversify its sources of imported natural resources. Additionally, Japan is increasingly interested in improving political and security relations with Russia to counter the growing potential of a Chinese threat (Akaha, 1998b). In summary, most of the aid Japan has extended to Russia has been focused on the introduction of market principles and the development of institutions to promote economic reforms rather than the process of democratization and promotion of human rights. Indeed, Japan’s more recent interest in improved economic relations with Russia is based more on strategic, territorial, and economic calculations than on expectations of a democratic Russia.

Conclusion A variety of factors, most notably a cultural bias against exporting political values, has limited Japan’s embrace and support of democracy promotion in the developing world. However, there are some reasons why one can expect Japan to become more assertive in its foreign policy, including a more pronounced use of foreign economic assistance to promote democratization and human rights. Japan’s most important foreign policy partner, the United States, expects—and Japan’s Asian neighbors are beginning to accept—a change in the nation’s foreign policy in this direction. Other reasons include Japan’s broadening definition of its role as a provider of not only economic values but also political and even security values to the international community.

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The Japanese government has accepted the plausible yet unsubstantiated assumption that through economic development, societies can cultivate democratic values and institutions and that the best instrument Japan has for promoting democracy and human rights around the world is economic assistance. However, it remains to be seen whether an even more assertive use of economic resources will visibly improve Japan’s ability to facilitate democratization processes in Asia and other regions of the developing world. There will be limits to the persuasiveness of Japanese efforts. Japan’s own human rights record must be substantially improved if Tokyo’s democratization effort can carry moral weight. For example, critics find reprehensible Tokyo’s stand on the issue of compensation for the socalled “comfort women”—foreign women who were forced into prostitution to service Japanese troops during World War II. The Japanese government has repeatedly stated that its postwar peace treaties with neighboring Asian countries legally settled the issue of compensation. Under mounting international pressures on this issue, however, the government decided in December 1994 to establish a nongovernmental fund to provide financial assistance to former comfort women and asked private citizens to contribute to it, but critics see this as a shirking of responsibility on the part of the government itself (Asahi Shimbun, 21 December 1994: 3). It is also reported that even this fund is far too small to provide the level of compensation being demanded by Korean, Chinese, and other citizens who had suffered under Japanese military occupation. Many Japanese and foreign critics also remain skeptical about the seriousness with which the Japanese government intends to implement the 1992 foreign aid charter. They particularly note a lack of consistency in the application of the guidelines, as shown in the case of China. Even if Tokyo is serious about implementing the policy, doubts will remain about the charter’s effectiveness if the effort is viewed as an imposition of foreign values and meddling in the internal affairs of target countries, be they developing capitalist countries or former socialist countries (Okabe, 1992: 212). Although the seriousness and effectiveness of Japan’s democracy promotion efforts have yet to be tested, one thing is clear. This economic giant has finally awoken to the realities of the post–Cold War world, realities that beckon Japan to speak more openly and clearly of its philosophy and its political aspirations. Although the complexity of contemporary global problems defies unidimensional and quick solutions, Japan is expected to participate actively and consistently in the formulation of viable solutions. The contemporary problems of freedom, prosperity, and security continue to heighten the Japanese people’s awareness of the interconnectedness of the world, and the realities of the world are forcing them to seek sensitive and sensible solutions to these problems.

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Japan’s answer thus far has been to use its enormous economic power in an increasingly strategic and political manner. While this approach is certainly not revolutionary, it is a big step for a country that still has a long way to go before it can overcome the weighty legacies of its past and establish itself as a credible and legitimate world power. In the process, the Japanese people are slowly overcoming their cultural barriers to international life. They are beginning to see peace and prosperity not as “private goods” to be won and cherished within their own island country but as “public goods” to be won and cherished in the borderless “one world.”

Notes 1. Japanese SDF personnel could participate in a UN-sanctioned peacekeeping operation if a cease-fire was in effect, if the parties to the conflict accepted the peacekeeping operation, and if the operation maintained neutrality. They would withdraw if one of these conditions ceased to exist. They would bear only minimally required arms to protect themselves.

7 Inconsistent U.S. Efforts to Promote Democracy Abroad Steven W. Hook

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o country has had a greater impact on global democratization, for better and for worse, than the United States during the twentieth century. No country has possessed its vast political, cultural, economic, and military resources—and its predisposition to use them toward recreating other states in its own image. Thus it should come as no surprise that the U.S. government’s involvement in democracy promotion has received such great attention, along with a considerable degree of skepticism and suspicion. Indeed, the very foundations of U.S. democracy promotion have come into question since the terrorist attacks on the nation occurred in September 2001. The U.S. pursuit of global democratization historically has served an ambiguous combination of altruistic aspirations and concrete national selfinterests. Unfortunately, the subordination of U.S. democratic ideals to geopolitical concerns during the Cold War, combined with the tendency to impose its own democratic model on foreign countries, fueled ideological polarization within many developing countries and left a legacy of mistrust and resentment that has yet to be overcome more than a decade after the Cold War’s collapse. Democracy promotion efforts have also been hampered during the post–Cold War era by a variety of domestic obstacles, including the lack of consensus regarding the broad outlines of U.S. foreign policy and the presence of other foreign policy objectives that, in many cases, clash with the pursuit of democracy promotion. Despite mounting evidence that many of the lessons associated with the failures of previous democratization campaigns have been taken into account in more recent efforts (e.g., see Carothers, 1999), the government’s ability to achieve its stated goals remains greatly constrained by domestic factors. This chapter explores and evaluates the U.S. experience with democracy promotion. First, such efforts are p