The Politics of Regime Structure Reform in Democracies: Israel in Comparative and Theoretical Perspective (S U N Y Series in Israeli Studies)

The Politics of

Regime Structure Reform in Democracies

Israel in Comparative and Theoretical Perspective

GIDEON RAHAT

The Politics of Regime Structure Reform in Democracies

SUNY series in Israeli Studies

Russell Stone, editor

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES Israel in Comparative and Theoretical Perspective

Gideon Rahat

STATE UNIVERSITY OF NEW YORK PRESS

Published by STATE UNIVERSITY OF NEW YORK PRESS, ALBANY

© 2008 State University of New York All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. No part of this book may be stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means including electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.

For information, contact State University of New York Press, Albany, NY www.sunypress.edu Production, Laurie Searl Marketing, Anne M. Valentine

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Rahat, Gideon. The politics of regime structure reform in democracies : Israel in comparative and theoretical perspective / Gideon Rahat. p. cm. — (SUNY series in Israeli studies) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-7914-7349-8 (hardcover : alk. paper) 1. Israel—Politics and government. 2. Democracy. I. Title. JQ1830.A58R353 2008 320.95694—dc22 2007016958 10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

To Ana, Tsofit, Adi, Maya, and Yuval

This page intentionally left blank.

Contents

List of Tables

ix

Acknowledgments

xi

List of Abbreviations

xiii

Introduction

1

Chapter One

7

Stability and Reform of the Regime Structures of Established Democracies PART ONE The Politics of Electoral Reform in Israel Chapter Two

47

The Electoral System, 1948–1969: A Brief Historical Overview Chapter Three

57

The Politics of Electoral Reform, 1969–1977: The Failure to Promote Compromise Chapter Four

The Politics of Electoral Reform, 1984–1990: From (Knesset) Electoral Reform to Government System Reform

77

viii

CONTENTS

PART TWO The Politics of Government System Reform in Israel, 1988–1992 Chapter Five

113

Long-Term Developments, Catalyzing Events, and the Reform Initiative Chapter Six

147

The Actors Chapter Seven

179

The Stages of the Reform Process and Overcoming the Barriers PART THREE Reform of Regime Structures of Established Democracies in Historical and Cross-National Comparative Perspectives Chapter Eight

215

The Israeli Case Studies in a Historical-Comparative Perspective Chapter Nine

231

The Politics of Regime Structure Reform in Established Democracies: A Cross-National Comparative Perspective Conclusions

263

Epilogue

273

Notes

277

Bibliography

299

Author Index

323

Subject Index

329

Tables

Table 1.1

8

Basic Institutional Features of Regimes in Democracies Table 1.2

11

Barriers to Reform in Democracies Table 1.3

28

A Framework for the Analysis of the Politics of Reform Table 4.1

86

MKs’ Voting Patterns on Electoral Reform According to Party Affiliation Table 6.1

148

Voting Patterns in the Three Readings of the Direct Election Law Table 7.1

190

MKs’ Voting Patterns in the First Reading (Libai’s Bill) According to Party Affiliation Table 7.2

199

MKs’ Voting Patterns in the Second Reading (Article 3) According to Party Affiliation Table 7.3

203

MKs’ Voting Patterns in the Third Reading According to Party Affiliation ix

This page intentionally left blank.

Acknowledgments

Thanks go, first, to Emanuel Gutmann, my wise and kind advisor, for supporting me over the years from the time I was his PhD student; whenever I need sound advice, he is there. My colleagues and friends in the Department of Political Science at the Hebrew University, administrators and academics both, provided a pleasant, supportive working environment that I feel privileged to share. In particular, I am grateful to Gabriel Sheffer for his comments on an early version of the manuscript and to Reuven Hazan for his observations and advice, as well as his friendship. I also thank Francine Hazan for her assistance in preparing the manuscript and Lisa Perlman who helped in the final stages. The two anonymous reviewers deserve thanks for their wise advice. Praise also goes to the members of the SUNY editorial team for their professionalism and kindness. My appreciation extends to the Israel Foundation Trustees who supported the research presented in this book and to the Hebrew University Research and Development Fund and the Shaine Center for Research in the Social Sciences for assisting in the preparation of the manuscript. I also acknowledge the help of the numerous people at the different libraries and archives that I used during the course of my research. Invaluable support came from my family. The grandmothers’ team (Ana, Sara’leh, and Ziva) and grandfather Michael invested much time assisting in the complicated logistics of raising children. Without their help, I would have found neither the time nor the mood needed to cope with the task of research and writing. Last but not least, I am indebted to Tsofit, my wife, for all that she has given me; she is almost too good to be true.

xi

This page intentionally left blank.

Abbreviations

ADP

Arab Democratic Party [Hamiflaga Hedemokratit Ha’aravit]

CFI

Constitution for Israel [Chuka Leyisrael]

CLJC

Constitution, Law and Justice Committee [Va’adat Hachuka, Chok Vemishpat]

DMC

Democratic Movement for Change [Hatnu’a Hademokratit Leshinuy]

FPZI

Faction for the Promotion of the Zionist Idea [Hasi’a Lekidum Hara’ayon Hatzioni]

GZ

General Zionists [Hatziyonim Haklaliyim]

Hadash

Hazit Demokratit Leshalom Veshivion [Democratic Front for Peace and Equality]

HCJ

High Court of Justice [Bagatz-Bet Hamishpat Hagavoha Letzedek]

IDI

Israel Diaspora Institute [from 1991 Israeli Democracy Institute]

LDP

Liberal Democrat Party [Japanese]

Mapai

Mifleget Po’alei Eretz Yisrael [The Land of Israel Workers’ Party]

Mapam

Mifleget Po’alim Meuchedet [United Workers Party]

MGRI

Movement for Governance Reform in Israel [Hatnu’a Leshinuy Shitat Hamimshal]

MK

Member of Knesset

MMP

Mixed Member Proportional

MP

Member of Parliament

xiii

xiv

ABBREVIATIONS

NRP

National Religious Party [Mafdal—Hamiflaga Hadatit Leumit]

PLP

Progressive List for Peace (Hareshima Hamitkademet Leshalom)

PM

Prime Minister

PR

Proportional Representation

Rafi

Reshimat Po’alei Yisrael [Israel’s Workers’ List]

SMD

Single Member District

Introduction

BETWEEN 1988 AND 1992, the Israeli parliament, the Knesset, legislated a basic law that replaced the old system of government with a new one. The new Basic Law: The Government (1992) replaced the Israeli parliamentary system with a mixed system. This new mixed system also included a new presidential element—direct election of the head of the executive branch, the prime minister (PM). The main parliamentary element that was preserved was that of allowing the Knesset, in a vote of no confidence with the support of a majority of its members (61 of 120), to oust the PM and his government. While this particular reform initiative was placed on the political agenda only a few years before it was adopted (1988), an old initiative that had been raised time and again since Israel’s 1948 independence, namely the reform of the Knesset electoral system, was rejected. This points to the central question of this study: how can we explain the success or failure of initiatives aimed at reforming the regime structures of established democracies? This question is answered through a comparative analysis of the attempts at electoral and government system reform in Israel and a comparison with cases of electoral reform in other established democracies in the 1990s.1 A given regime structure expresses and also defines power relations between different political forces—among the government branches, within each of them, and between them and the citizens. On the one hand, regime structure influences the patterns of power allocation among various political actors. On the other hand, these same actors (or, at least, some of them) hold the key to reform in the regime structure, the ability to change the rules of power allocation between them. Usually, institutions in established democracies are stable and fixed, and thus serve researchers well as a firm anchor for the study of politics, defining the restraints and incentives that affect the behavior of political actors.2 Indeed, for a long period, from the early 1950s until the 1990s, almost no substantial reform was made in the structures of regimes in established democracies. Only

1

2

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

one single established democracy adopted substantial electoral reforms (France) in the first four decades after World War II.3 In the 1990s, four established democracies adopted such a reform: Italy, Japan, New Zealand, and Israel. These reforms raised interest in the politics of electoral reform in established democracies, leading scholars to pay more attention to the other side of the coin—the way that established institutions of the regime in democracies are changed. The discipline of political science, however, reacting for decades to a reality of no change—and because of other reasons that will be discussed later—was not properly equipped to face the challenge. Nevertheless, research into this phenomenon has progressed since the mid-1990s. A few crossnational studies that addressed the phenomenon (see, e.g., Norris, 1995a; Shugart & Wattenberg, 2001a; and additional studies that will be mentioned later) provided valuable insights. While growing attention has been given to electoral reform, far less was paid to an analysis of previous failed attempts to reform the electoral system. The aim of this book is to create a framework in which failed attempts at reform and successful ones are analyzed using the same tools. Only in this manner can we best address questions on when, how, and why a substantial reform in the regime structure is adopted (while others were rejected). This study uses a historical-comparative approach, and cases are analyzed using two tools. The first is a framework for analyzing the politics of reform that includes background factors (long-term developments prior to reform and events that occurred at the time of reform), the actors in the politics of reform; the stages in the process of reform promotion, and the characteristics of the reform proposal. The second research tool is a list of the barriers obstructing the promotion of reform of the regime structure. The research framework employed in this study is flexible. It is possible to use it to test the analytical strength of different theoretical approaches—such as the rational choice approach and the institutional approach—to the phenomenon as a whole, along with its different components. This strategy allows for a comprehensive explanation and at the same time improves the analysis of some of its components according to additional theoretical approaches. Anachronism and retrospective rationalization threaten the validity of such research. There is a popular tendency—sometimes also in academic circles—to show how political actors (wisely) achieved their goals through reform after the fact.4 To avoid these mistakes, this research makes extensive use of documents and other primary sources—documents dating from the time of the reform process. These sources clearly indicate that especially at the time of the successful attempts at promoting the government system reform, there was great uncertainty as to the consequences of its implementation. A crucial part of the politics of reform is the marketing of different versions of the expected political outcomes of the reform to different audiences. In addition, short-term interests—such as electoral considerations—

INTRODUCTION

3

that have nothing to do with the anticipated consequences of the reform have an important impact on the actors’ perceptions, interests, and behavior. In short, reform in the regime structure of an established democracy is clearly not a simple (rational choice) story about the success of self-interested politicians in promoting a well-engineered reform that would serve their aims nor a simple, optimistic (institutional) one about a political system that successfully corrects itself. The first chapter presents the framework for the study of the politics of reform in the regime structure of established democracies. The beginning of the chapter defines the key concepts of the study and discusses the state of the research. Later, explanations found in the research literature concerning the stability of regime structures in established democracies are used to compose a list of barriers that reformers face. This list is tested again and again in the course of this study, with the aim of defining the relative weight of each barrier. The sections that follow describe reforms in the regime structures of four established democracies—New Zealand, Japan, Italy, and Israel—that were adopted at the beginning of the 1990s, and the different approaches used for their study. The model for the analysis of the politics of reform used throughout follows. The final section presents the research questions and hypotheses, and describes the research method and the various sources. The second chapter briefly examines the politics of electoral reform in the first two decades of Israel’s independence (1949–1969). Its major aim is to provide the reader with the necessary background—a short history of the electoral system and the failed reform attempts in those years.5 The politics of reform during that period consisted mainly of an interparty struggle: other actors did not play a significant role, although there were attempts to recruit them. The attempt at reform in the first decade (1949–1959) ended with a defeat for the reformers. Not only were specific electoral reform initiatives blocked, but the electoral system gained additional safeguards against reform through the adoption of legislation requiring that an amendment to the electoral system be supported by an absolute majority of Knesset members (MKs) (61/120) at every stage of the legislative process. In the next decade (1959–1969), committed champions of reform persisted with their attempts at promoting it. But most central actors were occupied with trying to build interparty alliances (Alignment and Gahal), and reform promotion was frozen as part of the agreements for establishing these alliances. Reform thus lost its status until the party system restabilized around the two large party blocs at the end of the 1960s. The two following chapters study the failed attempts to promote electoral reform initiatives in Israel. The third chapter analyzes the politics of reform during the seventh and eighth Knessets (1969–1977). At that time, electoral reform initiatives progressed more than in the 1950s, but still managed to pass only preliminary readings before being struck down at the stage

4

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

of committee deliberation. Developments in various components defined by the research model made the promotion of reform easier in this period than in the 1950s. More modest reform initiatives, which were raised when the two largest party alliances (Alignment and Gahal/Likud) were almost equal in size, made reform less of a threat. The 1973 Yom Kippur War seriously decreased public trust and confidence in the political system and served as a catalyst for the promotion of reform. Extraparliamentary actors without vested interests in the institutional order entered the scene, but these actors were weak, and the political parties remained the dominant actors. Under these conditions, the major barriers to reform between 1969 and 1973 stemmed from intraparty factions and from the parties who composed the different alliances. Between 1973 and 1977 (and subsequently), the major barrier to reform was the veto of the small parties, who were crucial members of the governing coalition or potential coalition partners. The fourth chapter examines the politics of electoral reform during the period of national unity governments from 1984 to 1990. While the two large parties cooperated in governing, each still aspired to form a different coalition with its smaller allies, one in which it would be the dominant power. Therefore, coalition pressures against reform were still effective. However, an electoral reform bill did succeed in reaching the most advanced legislative stage since independence: it passed the first reading. Developments in different components of the model proposed in this research had created more promising conditions for the promotion of reform—political power was more dispersed than ever before. Extra and intraparliamentary actors succeeded in mobilizing support for relatively modest reforms, making extensive use of long-term developments and events to justify the demand for reform. The bill was frozen at the committee stage, however, and finally buried. Facing strong and effective objections to reform by the small but pivotal ultraorthodox religious parties, the reformers then decided to focus their efforts on promoting the bill for direct election of the PM. The next three chapters (five, six, and seven) are dedicated to a comprehensive analysis of the success of the government system reform initiative (1988–1992). The fifth chapter examines the long-term developments that prepared the ground for the promotion of this initiative, the events that served as catalysts for its promotion, and the characteristics that made it more fit for promotion than the moderate electoral reform initiatives. This analysis, along with an overview of the lower-profile government system reform initiatives that were raised prior to 1988, show the importance of the actors in the politics of reform. The actors created a link between the problems—as perceived in terms of long-term developments and events and the actors’ interpretation of them—and the solution, namely, the direct election initiative. These actors used the multifaceted nature of this initiative, combining old parliamentarianism and proportional representation with new direct

INTRODUCTION

5

majoritarian election of the PM, to mobilize support from various groups having different, and sometimes even contradictory, perceptions and interests. The sixth chapter studies the actors in the politics of government system reform: their roles in the struggles for and against reform, their perceptions of the reform, and their interests in it. Unlike the politics of the Knesset’s electoral reform, the politics of government system reform were characterized by the significant role played by extraparliamentarian and nonpartisan actors. With pressures now emanating from a much wider sphere, a plethora of unstable perceptions, interests, and behaviors developed. Extraparliamentary actors, especially pressure groups and public opinion, were the major proponents of “change,” while the Knesset members themselves determined mainly the substance of the reform. The first part of the seventh chapter analyzes the path taken by the initiative for government system reform. It relates to the major developments in the parliamentary and extraparliamentary arenas and the interaction between them. The analysis of the process demonstrates that the politics of reform are to a great extent about building and rebuilding coalitions. The second part examines the way in which the reformers overcame all the barriers to reform, for the first time in the history of the state of Israel. The eighth chapter presents the main research findings on the Israeli case studies by conducting a comparison of the politics of regime structure reform in Israel over time. One important finding of this comparison is that the more power was dispersed among the actors in the politics of reform, the more the reform initiative progressed. The ninth chapter is a cross-national analysis, using the model and the list of barriers that were applied to the Israeli cases. The findings of the Israeli study are compared to those on the politics of reform in Japan, Italy, and New Zealand, who adopted substantial electoral reform at the beginning of the 1990s. The historical and cross-national comparisons demonstrate that, unlike the politics involved in preserving the institutional status quo, it is difficult to make simple rules about the politics of reform. The existence, promotion, and success of a reform initiative in the regime structure of an established democracy are dependent on the behavior of numerous actors. The common thread in the cases when the attempt to promote reform was successful was that power was relatively dispersed among the actors. Skilled reformers, building and rebuilding supportive coalitions, took advantage of an environment in which no actor could, on her or his own, veto the progress of reform. If conventional wisdom tells us that reform requires the concentration of power in the hands of the reformers so that they can overcome the rejection of other actors, here it is suggested that reformers can also take advantage of a situation in which power is highly dispersed. In short, a major claim of this study is that the relationship between power concentration/dispersion and

6

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

reform should be interpreted as curvilinear rather than linear. This finding seems to be rather sound and logical when recalling that these cases share a common characteristic: no veto players that can block reform on their own. Additional findings of this study, some general and some that specifically recommend improvements to the analysis of the phenomenon via other theoretical approaches, appear in the concluding chapter. The book ends with a short epilogue that outlines the main characteristics of the politics of government system reform abolition on the basis of a comparison with the politics of adoption of the same reform.

ONE

Stability and Reform of the Regime Structures of Established Democracies

THIS STUDY USES the concept of politics to describe the struggles between the forces that try to preserve the regime structure and those that try to change it, as well as the struggles and cooperation inside each of these camps. The nature of this struggle, and its results, should be understood as a function not only of the amount of power that these forces use, but also of their notions about how the present regime structure functions, and their estimations about the impact of the suggested reforms to it. These notions and forecasts stem from the way these forces perceive their self-interests and group interests, and their perceptions of what the ideal regime structure would look like. Both perceptions, of interests and values, are linked to how power relations and value systems are interpreted at a given time. The term “constitutional reform” is sometimes used in research literature to describe a change in the structure of a regime in democracies. The problem is that this term is employed to describe all constitutional amendments, including those with no bearing on the regime structure. Thus, the concept of reform in the regime structure is significant for this study, as it refers to the object being changed, not to the place where the reform might appear, that is, the constitutional document. Reform in the regime structure implies the adoption of new rules for the division of powers inside government institutions, between them, and between them and the citizens, both as a group and as individuals. The concept describes an orderly change distinct from revolutions or coups. Many times, established democracies have special procedures for reforming their regime structure, and, in any case, such a move will usually take the form of legislation.

7

8

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Using the institutional characteristics in Lijphart’s (1984) distinction between two subtypes of democracies—consensus and majoritarian—will clarify which government institutions that undergo a substantial change (including their establishment or abolition) could be interpreted as experiencing a change in the regime structure (Table 1.1). Within the branches of government, this typology relates to cases of substantial change of the electoral system by which the parliament is elected, the establishment or abolition of a bicameral parliament, or a redistribution of power between the two legislative chambers. Between government branches, this typology refers to substantial changes in the government system, such as replacing a parliamentary regime with a presidential one—which leads to a change in the pattern of horizontal power distribution—or replacing unitary arrangements with federalism—which entails a change in the pattern of vertical power distribution. The adoption of a written and rigid constitution, a bill of rights, or a referendum device means that power is transferred to the citizens, while their abolishment means that power is expropriated from them. The adoption of a written and rigid constitution or a bill of rights can also change the power relationship between government branches—for example, between the judiciary branch and the other branches when legislation becomes an object of judicial review. Reform in the regime structure implies the adoption of a change with substantial and continued impact on the rules of power distribution between the political entities and government institutions listed in Table 1.1. It should be distinguished from other, less substantial changes that would not be

TABLE 1.1 Basic Institutional Features of Regimes in Democracies*

The Institutional Feature

The Bodies Involved in Power Distribution

Electoral system** Government system Constitution/Bill of Rights

Parties in parliament Legislative and executive branches The government and the citizens; the judicial branch and the other branches The government and the citizens One chamber or two Central and regional governments

Referendum Cameral structure Unitarism/federalism

* The six features were selected from the list of nine that Lijphart (1984) proposed. The three features not included are the ones that do not appear in constitutions or laws: the party system, social cleavages, and coalition structure. ** In cases when the head of the executive branch is directly elected (presidential systems or the system adopted in Israel in 1992 and used between 1996 and 2001), an additional feature should be added to the electoral system.

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

9

defined as reforms. Replacing a PR (proportional representation) electoral system with a majoritarian system will be considered a reform in the regime structure, while smaller changes—such as a slight increase in the legal threshold or a change in the formula for allocating remaining seats—would not. Adopting the mechanism of constructive vote of no confidence also would not be considered as such, since it would leave the parliamentary system in place. A partial separation of powers, such as the establishment of a separate source of legitimacy for the PM through his or her direct election, would be considered a reform in the regime structure because it is a change of one of the two basic elements of parliamentarism—the selection of the Government* by the parliament (Hazan, 1996). THE STATE OF RESEARCH

Prior to 1995, only a few studies attempted to construct a basis for a theory on the politics of reform in the regime structure of established democracies (Banting & Simeon, 1985; Longley, 1988; Longley & Olson, 1991a,b). As Norris (1995b, p. 4) claimed in her 1995 introduction to a special issue of International Political Science Review on the politics of electoral reform: “We lack a theoretical framework to understand how political systems reform basic constitutional principles.” The following reasons explain why research of this phenomenon did not develop prior to 1995. First, while interest groups and political parties in many countries attempted to promote reforms in their regime structure, their failure to achieve their goal had put the phenomenon in the category of a “non-event” that the discipline does not tend to address.1 There were several studies about the politics of the status quo, such as Bachrach and Baratz’s (1963) on “nondecision making.” Marxists and neo-Marxists often conducted such studies, but they were not interested in institutional differences in regime structures, which were seen from their perspective as a nonsubstantial nuance. Thus, the study of the reasons for not adopting reform was neglected (although there were a few exceptions, as we will see). Only in the 1990s, after such reforms were adopted, did it become apparent that the stability of regime structures of established democracies from the early 1950s deserves a developed theoretical treatment.

*In this study, Government (with a capital G) refers to the group of ministers and the PM who lead the executive branch. It is unwarranted to use the term cabinet in the Israeli case, as this label often refers to a smaller group of ministers who deal with specific issues and does not include all the ministers (e.g., the “security cabinet”). When referring to government (with a small g), this study means the combination of all government branches.

10

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Second, prominent occurrences of political change, such as the “third wave” of democratization (Huntington, 1991), overshadow internal changes in established democracies.2 Changes that occur in the developing world were analyzed by stressing the politics of regime change, including institutional features. Research literature on developments in Western democracies, however, almost ignored the possibility that the reform of regime structures of liberal democracies might be the answer to social, economic, and cultural changes that occurred in their societies. Even those approaches that did not forecast the extinction or decline of liberal democracy refer to the institutional structure as static and solid, with society being the place in which new patterns of action and organization are expected to arise (Kaase & Newton, 1995). Third, until the 1980s, there were too few meeting points between the society-centered approach used for the research of political change, which gained prominence in the 1960s, and the (old) institutional approach, which was previously dominant (Banting & Simeon, 1985; Bogdanor, 1988). General discussions of regime structure reform in democracies took place within the framework of formal institutional analysis (Andrain & Apter, 1995), with no connection to the political and social context of power relations. The renewed interest in institutions, in the framework of the “new institutional approach” that has developed since the mid-1980s, was more conducive to the study of regime structure reform. Yet one of its main characteristics was that it focused mainly on institutions as independent, rather than dependent, variables (Peters, 1996). That is, it was more interested in the political consequences of institutions than in their origins. Following the adoption of reforms at the beginning of the 1990s, we witness a growing interest in the theoretical aspects of the politics of electoral reform. Generalizations and theoretical propositions were made on the basis of cross-national comparisons (Norris, 1995b; Sakamoto, 1999; Shugart, 2001) and single-case studies (Bueno de Mesquita, 2000; Dunleavy & Margetts, 1995). In addition to these, numerous single-case studies appeared after 1995 (see, e.g., Norris, 1995a; Shugart & Wattenberg, 2001a). Other (mostly earlier) studies that are of interest—although they focus on a substantially different context—are the seminal comparative-historical study by Carstairs (1980) about the adoption of PR systems in Europe in the first decades of the twentieth century, and Boix’s (1999) rational choice interpretation of this phenomenon. Several studies also address the phenomenon of preservation, such as Nohlen’s (1984) analysis of the stability of electoral systems in Western democracies, and the more historical studies of the failed attempts at electoral reform in the UK (Bogdanor, 1981; Butler, 1963, 1984; Farrell, 2001) and Canada (Weaver 2001).

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

11

WHY DID THE REGIMES STRUCTURES OF ESTABLISHED DEMO CRACIES REMAIN UNCHANGED?

As already noted, stability was the rule in the regime structures of most of the established democracies since the early 1950s. Most reform initiatives—even when initiated by parties with a legislative majority—were blocked. The few exceptions when substantial reforms in the regime structure took place usually led to focused contextual treatments in research literature, not to attempts at developing theory. Except for the case of France, no electoral or government system reform was adopted until the 1990s.3 Several explanations representing different research approaches and different levels of analysis can be offered to explain this stability (Table 1.2). First, the institutional procedures for legislating such a reform give primacy to the institutional status quo. In any reform attempt, the institutional status quo is a default, while the reform alternative faces several procedural barriers; if it fails to pass even one of them, it returns to the starting point. In many countries, reform requires a constitutional amendment or an amendment to special laws. These may involve recruiting special majorities or securing the consent of additional majorities: second chambers, subnational legislatures (in federal systems), or the electorate (through a referendum).4 In Israel, where neither special majorities nor special procedures were required for most reforms in the regime structure, stability was the rule until the 1990s.5 The usual legislative process benefited the status quo, since reform required the mobilization of majorities in the Knesset plenum in at least two (in the case of Government bills) or three (in the case of private TABLE 1.2 Barriers to Reform in Democracies

The Barrier

Approach

Procedural superiority of the institutional status quo

“Old” institutional approach

Political tradition

Political culture

Systemic rationale

New institutional approach/rational choice (system level)

Actors’ vested interests

Rational choice (group/individual level)

A majority for change; disagreement over content

Rational choice (game theory)

Coalition politics

Rational choice (game theory)

12

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

member bills) readings that take place at different points in time. The number of voting rounds is even greater than the number of readings; the second reading might require dozens of them—on amendment proposals and on the separate articles of the law. A majority must also be mobilized in the committee that discusses the bill. Since the composition of the committee does not generally mirror the exact partisan composition of the Knesset plenum, due to the difference in size, the mobilization of a majority could become even more difficult. Thus, even in this case, reform is not about a single successful recruitment of a majority, but rather about recruiting, maintaining, and rebuilding majorities at different times and within different forums. Thus, the guardians of the institutional status quo have at their disposal many opportunities to block reform. Reformers, on the other hand, cannot allow themselves to be defeated in any one of these battles. Procedural maneuvers are additional tools that can be used by the guardians of the status quo. Postponement of legislation can be an effective strategy for blocking reform. It can help reform opponents to delay a decision until the timing is better, for example, when public pressure for reform decreases. The effect of such a delay can resemble that of a vote against the reform bill when it leads to the burial of the bill for a period long enough to force it to restart the entire legislation process.6 An additional possible strategy is neutralizing a bill. This can be done by entrenching amendments that remove the central reformist component from the bill. For example, a bill that was supposed to substantially change the electoral system may end up being replaced with only a slight change of the legal threshold. It is also possible to include a component that will break the supporting majority. For example, majority support for reform based on an agreement about the postponement of its implementation might be undermined by an amendment that proposes its immediate implementation. Such an amendment might be supported at earlier stage by both impatient reformists and shrewed reform opponents, only to lead to the rejection of reform at a later legislative stage by reform opponents and the (pro-reformist) opponents of its immediate implementation. In an empirical study of fifty U.S. state constitutions and thirty-two national constitutions, Lutz (1994) demonstrated that there is a significant correlation between the levels of difficulty set by the constitutional amendment formula and the frequency of the adoption of constitutional amendments. However, he argues that the procedural barrier does not supply the whole explanation and that other factors should be used to explain differences in a constitution’s stability. There are also prominent cases that demonstrate the limitations of the procedural perspective. It might be expected that amending constitutional rules in the UK and New Zealand (until the 1990s), who have no written constitution, would be a relatively easy task. Yet these countries experienced fewer changes in comparison to countries with written

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

13

and rigid constitutions and a more demanding amendment formula (Duchacek, 1973). A strong basis also exists for the claim that the stability of the U.S. Constitution stems more from traditional reservations about making amendments than from procedural barriers (Schechter, 1985). Second, institutional arrangements have their roots in the cultural, social, and political traditions of each country. As Lijphart (1994, 1998) explains, the cultural approach is well suited to explain the tendency of the Anglo-American democracies toward majoritarian features and the Continental democracies toward consensual ones. Most electoral systems in established democracies, as well as other conventions for dividing power between and within government institutions, were set up in times of fundamental political and social change, such as the adoption of universal suffrage (Carstairs, 1980; Nohlen, 1984). In a situation of relative stability, which characterizes established democracies, it would be difficult to mobilize support for abandoning an institutional principle linked to local traditions and seen as one that has proven itself. For example, the Israeli regime structure is viewed as reflecting a successfully inclusive political culture—one that was constructive in laying the foundations for the formation of the state of Israel—with origins that can be found in the pre-independence era, in the Zionist and Yishuv institutions (Eisenstadt, 1985; Galnoor, 1982; Horowitz & Lissak, 1978; Sager, 1985). Third, Lijphart (1984) also claims that the institutional order in established democracies usually fits the conditions of a given society and can thus be seen a rational arrangement at the system level. In a multicleavaged society, sharing power (a consensus regime) is rational for those who wish to live in a common democratic framework; a homogenous society can allow itself a majoritarian regime because it can avoid cutting the pie into many pieces. Thus, from a functional-systemic perspective, it is rational to keep the existing order. Fourth, the dominant political forces, who hold the key to change, have vested interests in preserving the conventions that enabled them to be the guardians of this key in the first place. These forces might have been the designers of the institutional conventions for the division of power or perhaps had begun as opponents but adapted themselves (Nohlen, 1984; Taagepera & Shugart, 1989). They are expected to prefer a mini-max strategy, defending what they have already achieved and avoiding risks—the uncertain political consequences of reform. It is not only parties that have vested interests in maintaining the institutional status quo, but also incumbents, as individuals, and strong interest groups (Dunleavy & Margetts, 1995). Thus, institutional order is described as reflecting the equilibrium between the interests of various political actors. This equilibrium might express an optimal division of power between those who hold the key to reform or, in certain contexts, a suboptimal one.

14

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Following this logic, even a change in the social or the (noninstitutional) political environment would not usually lead to the adoption of reform in the regime structure. There would be a systemic preference for adaptation rather than reform when facing new problems or the entrance of new actors into the game (Kaiser, 1997).7 This systemic preference reflects the notion that the cost of adaptation is lower than the cost of reform, and that its consequences are more certain. Evidence points to the limits of this approach. For example, parties that faced similar situations chose to promote different electoral systems. Using the rational choice approach, Bawn (1993) explains the adoption of PR (1949) and double ballot systems (1953) in West Germany as a result of the balance of interests of the various parties that were involved in the design of the electoral system. The largest party, the Christian Democratic Party, supported a majoritarian system that was supposed to supply it with a manufactured majority, while all other parties preferred PR. Prominent among the latter was the Social Democratic Party, the second largest at that time. It understood that under a majoritarian system it would gain less overrepresentation than its Christian Democratic counterpart and therefore its chances to take part in Government would be harmed. This explanation is parsimonious, elegant, and does seem to support the requirements of accessibility to information on voters’ preferences (and therefore on the forecasted affect of each electoral system on parties’ representation), the knowledge of the parties about other parties’ preferences, and the rules that will decide this issue. We can argue that the Israeli scene in the 1950s seemed to follow the same logic, when only the large party tried to promote the majoritarian alternative while the smaller parties preferred to reject it. However, things are not that simple. The British Labor Party, facing a similar situation in the post–First World War era—in terms of its power vis-à-vis the Conservative Party—tended to prefer preserving the majoritarian system. In this case, what is the rational choice? Is it getting a proportional share and thus higher chances of sharing posts in Government, or the risk of underrepresentation together with the possibility of single-party Government? It seems that cultural factors can explain these different rationales: the Anglo-American tendency toward majoritarianism versus the Continental consensual tendencies. Ideological leanings inside parties also seem to dictate stands toward reform. For example, in the first decades of the twentieth century, the time that electoral reform was on the agenda in Europe, this issue was contested inside the social democratic parties. The “socialists” preferred the majoritarian system, which by manufacturing majorities would enable single-party rule and the implementation of the socialist program, while the “democrats” preferred the principal of PR, even at the price of power-sharing and compromised policy (Carstairs, 1980).

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

15

Fifth, mobilizing majorities to support reform, and coordinating their activities, requires the creation of an agreement regarding its substance. In a situation when a majority supports change, but there is no agreement on substance, the status quo—supported by a minority—will have the upper hand. This can happen for various reasons. Lack of agreement on substance could make the institutional status quo a “Condorcet Winner”—that is, an option preferred by a majority in all pair-wise matches. This will happen when the alternatives are rejected, one by one, by the temporary coalitions of status quo loyalists (by themselves only a minority) and those supporting a different version of reform. Lack of agreement can also lead to the postponement and burial of reform bills. In addition, there is the possibility of “voting paradox.” This happens when a majority tends to prefer various reform initiatives to the status quo, but each camp refrains from supporting the other camps’ versions (although preferable to the status quo) because it hopes that the others will give up and support its specific version of reform. Thus, a situation illustrated by the “chicken” game could lead to the failure of a reform attempt, when postponements would result in the closing of the window of opportunity for reform.8 Finally, coalition politics make reform difficult, in that any crucial member of the coalition holds veto power against reform. In such situations, even a small minority can block a reform initiative that has the support of the majority in the legislature. Such a minority may cause the rejection of reform by offering support for other policies of the coalition government in exchange for throwing reform off the governmental agenda. It can also threaten to help oust the Government if the reform initiative is promoted. This veto power is not limited to parties in minimal winning coalitions. As H. Diskin and A. Diskin (1995) explain, a minority veto can be effective in super-size coalitions. A small party cannot oust such a coalition, but can nevertheless influence the behavior of its larger partners. It can offer its support for a narrow coalition led by the larger party who would reject reform or threaten to refrain from supporting it in the future. Such a minority is also not necessarily a parliamentary party group, and might be composed of only a single party from an alliance of parties or even an intraparty faction. This list of barriers will be used in this study to explain both failures and successes in promoting reform initiatives. The study of the failed attempts at reform will give an opportunity to estimate the strength of each barrier, and successful attempts will allow us to see how the reformers overcame all of them. NEVERTHELESS, A REFO RM IN THE REGIME STRUCTURE

Adopting a reform in the regime structure is not part of normal, everyday politics. A reform initiative has to pass all of the previously-mentioned obstacles

16

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

to be adopted. Nevertheless, in the 1990s, New Zealand, Italy, Japan, and Israel adopted such reforms. These cases proved the viable possibility of substantial reform of the rules for institutional division of power in established democracies. New Zealand used to serve as an almost pure example of the majoritarian Westminster model—even purer than the UK, where the model originated (Lijphart, 1984, 1987). In 1993, the single member districts system (SMD)—the dominant characteristic of the Westminster model—that served New Zealand from the nineteenth century, was replaced with a mixed member proportional (MMP) system. This new system, used in 1996 for the first time, closely resembles the German one. The vote at the district level determines only the individuals who will represent the parties, while the share of seats in parliament of each party list is determined in proportion to its share of the national (list) vote, as long as it passes the 5 percent legal threshold. Slightly more than half of the members of parliament (MPs) are elected in single member districts (sixty-five), while the rest (fifty-five) are elected from national party lists (Denemark, 2001). Since the end of the Second World War to the 1990s, Italy used a list PR system in multimember districts, which included a preference vote for the candidates on the list. In 1993, this system was replaced by a mixed semimajoritarian system, which was first implemented in the 1994 elections. According to the new system, three-quarters of the representatives in both houses of parliament are elected in SMDs, while the remaining quarter are elected from lists in multimember districts, partly compensating for the biases of the majoritarian tier (Katz, 2001). Israel has kept its closed-list PR system—with the entire nation serving as one district—for the Knesset elections, but in 1992 added the direct election of the PM. This reform meant a change in the government system, with parliamentarism being replaced by a hybrid government system. This system, first implemented in 1996, preserved a parliamentary element—as the Knesset could oust the Government in a vote of no confidence—and added a presidential element of directly electing the head of the executive branch. In addition, this reform can be seen as an electoral reform, where the closed-list PR election of the Knesset is mixed (and interacts) with the personal and majoritarian election of the PM. From this perspective, Israel adopted a unique version of an MMP system (Shugart, 2001). In 1994, Japan replaced its single non-transferable vote system with a mixed semimajoritarian system, first implemented in 1996. Under the old system, MPs were elected in multimember districts (usually three to five representatives per district), where each voter had one vote for electing one candidate. Under the new system, the voter has two votes, one for electing a representative in one of the three hundred SMDs and one for the party lists in one of the eleven multimember districts. Two hundred MPs are elected

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

17

through the multimember districts, with no compensation for the representation biases in the SMDs (Shiratori, 1995). Each of these electoral reforms was substantial enough to be seen as a reform in the regime structure. New Zealand made a complete and clear move from a majoritarian system to a PR system. Italy moved more than halfway between the PR pole and the majoritarian pole. Israel has passed half of the way in the government system dimension. The system that was adopted was substantially different from the old system, in which the PM was decided on (sometimes formally but sometimes effectively) by post-election negotiations. From the perspective of the electoral system, the mixing of majoritarian and PR systems had crucial ramifications (Diskin, 1999; Hazan & Rahat, 2000). The change in the level of proportionality in the Japanese case does not seem to be substantive; however, reform was crucial in the intraparty dimension (Shugart, 2001). In the former system, candidates from the same party had to compete against each other in the general elections; in the new system they do not. This is a substantial change in a country in which one dominant party has held a majority of seats for decades, and most coalition politics occurred between its competing personal factions. APPROACHES TO THE STUDY OF REFO RM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURE

This section presents three possible paths for studying the politics of reform in the regime structure of established democracies: rational choice, institutional approaches, and an historical-comparative approach. The Rational Choice Approach The rational choice approach offers two perspectives on stability and change of the regime structure. The first regards stability in the regime structure as a reflection of equilibrium in the interests of the main actors in the political system. From this perspective, only a strong external shock can lead to reform. This shock should be strong enough not only to make the anticipated benefit from reform higher than the benefit from the existing situation, but also higher than the added cost of change itself—adaptation and uncertainty (Kaiser, 1997). Boix’s (1999) rational choice analysis of electoral reform in Europe during the first decades of the twentieth century demonstrates the advantages and limitations of this perspective. He explains the adoption or rejection of reform by estimating the level of threat to the old ruling parties by the new emerging parties. This analysis, however, is about reforms that took place in the context of developments completely different from those of the 1990s: a massive growth of franchise, substantial changes in parties’ organizational patterns, and a massive realignment of voters.9

18

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

The claim that a large window of opportunity for reform is opened at times of great political crisis—a sudden change in contextual factors or a dramatic deterioration in satisfaction with policy—does not supply a clear answer as to the nature of the crisis that will lead to reform (Kaiser, 1997). That is, we can easily argue that most established democracies suffered such a crisis since the 1980s, yet most did not adopt reform; or we can suggest that no crisis occurred because those democracies continued to function and did not face a real possibility of collapse. The second perspective claims that institutional equilibrium does not exist, and that a continued struggle over the regime structure takes place between actors who are trying to maximize their power. Dunleavy and Margetts (1995) suggest this approach as a critique on the orthodoxy of mainstream political scientists—who hold that it is rational to stick to the existing order and refrain from the costs of reform. They argue that the political background in Japan, New Zealand, and even Italy, prior to the 1990s reforms, was far from being a crisis of the system. According to this approach, reform takes place when the actors with the ability to reform find that it is in their interest to do so—a rare but possible scenario. Replacing equilibrium with the concept of continuous dynamism negates the actual experience, which points clearly toward a tendency to preserve the system rather than reform it. Even if there is a continuous struggle, the consequence is rarely the adoption of reform. In addition, even in the case of reform, there is a tendency to integrate the old with the new, as pronounced by the adoption of mixed systems. Thus, the notion of continued dynamism does not improve our understanding of the phenomenon. The notion of equilibrium, on the other hand, is constructive because it focuses attention on the fact that irregularities are expected in the patterns of the rarely successful attempt at reform. Thus, the notion of equilibrium, as suggested by the first perspective, should be preferred. Yet it must be taken into account that reform may be successfully promoted following developments within the system, not necessarily as a result of “external shocks.” Several problems arise when the rational choice approach is used exclusively to analyze the politics of regime structure reform in established democracies.10 First, placing an exclusive emphasis on the interests of the partisan actors might lead us to disregard a crucial part of the picture—the origins of the changes in the benefits and costs of the action that caused the movement from equilibrium to nonequilibrium. Easily moving from explaining stability on the basis of partisan “vested interests” to explaining reform on the basis of a change in these partisan interests neglects the importance of the influences that caused the changes in the actors’ cost/benefit analysis in the first place. It also neglects the importance of the influence of nonpartisan actors (with no immediate vested interests)—whose pressures for reform are also added to the calculations of the partisan actors—in the analysis of the politics of reform.

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

19

Second, interests in their strict and narrow sense are not the only factors that play a role in this case, even when what is at stake are the rules for distributing institutional powers. As Lamare and Vowels (1996) show, even if rational variables can explain most of the variance in citizens’ voting behavior in New Zealand’s 1993 referendum on electoral reform, the difference between rejection and adoption was determined by other factors. Finding that there is a minority that supports reform is not surprising, so the weight of these variables that made the difference is more than their relatively small statistically explanatory power. For actors with vested interests—political parties and members of parliament—nonrational factors such as ideology play a role in determining stands toward reform (Bowler, Donovan, & Karp, 2006). In his analysis of the positions in Britain on constitutional reform, Norton (1982) suggests six different approaches to the issue, each based on a coherent set of political values. Some of them are parallel to partisan stands, some reflect different streams within parties. These different ideological approaches can have an impact on partisan stands and behaviors during the opening stages of the reform promotion process, when the adoption of reform seems far enough away to allow actors to treat it as a theoretical issue on the basis of their own ideology. Later on, actors who were accustomed to the rapid demise of reform initiatives might suddenly find themselves bound to their initial stands and behaviors. This would require them to weigh the price of being inconsistent vis-à-vis the cost that adopting reform might put on their future power under the new rules set by the reform. Parties that raise the flag of reform, and are distinguished by it from other parties in a multiparty system, may support reform even when it might endanger their existence since their uniqueness and credibility are dependent on this. The strength of ideology can also have an impact on parties’ preferences. A party that fears that a new institutional order might harm issues central to its ideology will resist reform more than a party that views ideology as less important than popular public opinion. It is possible to widen the concept of interest in such a way that it will include self-satisfaction and value-oriented benefits, and not only maximization of power as a motive for supporting reform; in this way, however, we lose elegance and parsimony—the main promised benefits of the rational choice approach—and its use becomes quite awkward. Third, rational choice scholars who are faithful to the promise of a parsimonious explanation present actors’ preferences as solid, for the most part, at the time of the reform promotion process (Bueno de Mesquita, 2000; Doron & Kay, 1995). However, reform is a multistage process during which actors change their interests, perceptions, and behaviors. The behavior of 120 Israeli MKs in three crucial votes is an illuminating example: 71 of them voted against reform and 82 supported it in at least one of the three readings (see chapter seven).

20

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Fourth, in many cases, the promised simplicity of the rational choice approach does not come to pass because the politics of reform reflects a plethora of interests. Reformers’ exploitation, and even creation, of these interests enables them to break the existing equilibrium. These interests have different values for different time frames, and sometimes also for different units (the individual politician, his faction, her party, etc.). The way that MPs vote on reform is affected by both short-term and long-term considerations. The short-term interest may be the immediate (electoral) benefits and costs for them and their parties if they support or oppose reform. The longterm interest may be the way that the change in the rules of power division will affect their personal power and their party power. Oversimplification is especially prominent when the analysis treats the party, and sometimes even “party camps,” as the exclusive analytical unit and as a unitary rational actor.11 Dunleavy and Margetts (1995), for example, suggest a model to explain the British parties’ stands on electoral reform. The model is built on two dimensions that relate to the parties’ interests concerning governability (served by an SMD system) and representation (served by a PR system). Their model has no equilibrium, but instead changes over two continua. In 1995, the Conservatives, who were the ruling party for a long period, tended to prefer governability (and SMD) to representation (and PR). The Liberal Democrats, as the main victims of the SMD system, tended to prefer representation (and PR); their potential status as a pivotal party only enhanced this preference. Labor, after a long time in the opposition, tended more and more to support PR, but was not ready to give up the governability that stems from the SMD tendency to create a governing majority. According to the model, there is a certain space in which a collision of interests can lead to electoral reform. Although this model is parsimonious, it is oversimplified. It is hard to see how can it serve as more than a post facto rationalization of the adoption of electoral reform in Britain. The model does not integrate enough interests even in the British case, which is a relatively simple one because the number of relevant actors involved is small. Dunleavy and Margetts (1995) themselves admit that other “vested” interests in the political system that block reform are not included in the model, such as the personal interests of the incumbent MPs in the preservation of their constituencies, intraparty biases, and the influence of interest groups. Furthermore, the model does not fit analyses of other case studies, even that of New Zealand—in which the reform passed even though most politicians rejected it—with its very similar regime and party system. Each MP has partisan interests: institutional (as an MP); personal (reelection); factional (the faction stance inside the party); and systemic (the effect of reform on the stability and functioning of the political system). Lehoucq (1995) suggested a way to integrate such different interests—maximizing influence in parliament, defending a political career, and preserving the stability of

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

21

the system—in a rational choice analysis. In his case, the reform of electoral laws in Costa Rica in 1948, the reform results seemed certain. Thus, the simplicity of the analysis according to the different strategic considerations of different actors appeared useful. However, when a civil war or its prevention is not one of the forecasted reasonable results of the actors’ behavior (as it was in the Costa Rican case), the calculation of various interests becomes more complex. That is, when uncertainty about the long-term effects of reform is high, as in the electoral reforms in the 1990s, no such simple solution is available. Fifth, it is dubious to assume that political actors can calculate the costs and benefits of reform. In their analysis of electoral reform proposals on the Israeli agenda, H. Diskin and A. Diskin (1988) show that a great gap exists between the intentions and interests of reform initiators and the expected political consequences of their proposals. Many times we tackle contradicting perceptions of interests of actors from whom we would expect to have shared interests. These stem from different estimations of the anticipated results of reform (Longley & Olson, 1991b). Thus, our analysis cannot presuppose that actors’ preferences are in accord with their interests, but rather should test it. Moreover, it may be that creating a gap between interests and their perception explains how an institutional equilibrium was broken. That is, studying the manipulation of perceptions of interests should be an integral part of the study of the politics of reform, a key to explaining its occurrence. The rational choice approach is much more useful for explaining stability in regime structure than change. Understanding the politics of reform requires the analysis of the interests of the major actors, rather than their presuppositions; these interests should be analyzed in their historical and immediate context. This requires the study of variables that are exogenous as far as a basic rational choice approach is concerned. The perceptions of interest should be understood in the context of long-term developments that took place before the process begun as well as events that occur throughout the process. In this study, information is not a given, but a part of the struggle for reform. Actors’ preferences can be the result of getting biased information on the anticipated consequences of reform from those who are acting in the role of professional experts; of having to calculate popular pressures for reform against calculations concerning its anticipated consequences; and of being attracted to systems that might look (as mixed electoral and government systems might look) like the best of both worlds. This study would not a priori simplify the terms for analysis. It would treat it as a process rather than a single game. It would see information, perceptions, and motives as part of the research process, rather than presuppositions. In this framework, rational choice will serve as a research tool (rather than as a paradigm): actors would be expected to act rationally in a certain context (under a plethora of pressures and with biased information), making a seemingly rational decision at a distinct point in time.

22

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Institutional Approaches While established democracies look quite stable, the discipline of political science has many theories of crisis, catastrophe, change, and transformation (Kaase & Newton, 1995). These theories did not take into consideration (or chose not to relate to) the possibility that a reform of the regime structure would be the response to the developing social problems they identified in democracies. However, even if these projections were not fulfilled, we identified several developments that could make the ground fertile for the promotion of reform. Among these are the increase in the importance of public opinion and public behavior; the identification of democratic pathologies such as alienation and dissatisfaction; and the growth in certain types of political participation, which led to a growth in demands and resulted in overburdened polities. These overburdened polities suffer from problems of governability and a decline in legitimacy. Various institutional studies, however, did address the relationship between reform or preservation of the institutional structures and social, cultural, and international factors. In his seminal work on types of regimes in democracies, Lijphart (1984) argues that we should expect institutions to fit the societies in which they are located. Using his models, he justified reform pressures in both New Zealand (Lijphart, 1987) and Israel (Lijphart, 1993). In New Zealand, which was located in the majoritarian pole, the move was toward a more consensus-based regime; in Israel, located in the consensus pole, the move was toward a (seemingly) more majoritarian regime. In line with Lijphart’s theory, Jackson (1994) claims that the evolutionary transformation of New Zealand’s society from a homogenous to a multicultural one explains the pressure to reform the majoritarian model. In Israel, a change in power distribution among political and social forces preceded the reform in the regime structure (Medding, 1999; Sheffer, 1999a,b). Reform can be seen as an attempt either to adapt to these changes or counter their influence. One of the characteristics of democracies is the ability to respond and adapt to changes in their environment. A main mechanism is periodic elections. It is expected that social and cultural changes would be reflected in changes in citizens’ preferences, which would result in a change in the policies of elected governments. Shugart (2001) argues that electoral systems can be distinguished by their level of sensitivity to the preferences of the citizens. He offers a classification of electoral systems according to their distance from an optimal midpoint of “electoral efficiency.” This point stands in the middle of two continua, which represent two separate dimensions: the interparty dimension, with its poles of hyperrepresentative systems and pluralitarian systems, and the intraparty dimension, with its poles of hyperpersonalistic systems and hypercentralized systems. The midpoint represents optimal efficiency, which means the best possible translation of the preferences of a

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

23

majority of voters into policy. This analysis leads him to claim that regimes with “extreme” electoral systems—that is, those in which the electoral systems are located close to the poles of one or two dimensions and are thus less electorally efficient—are expected to be more prone to reform pressures. Longley and Olson (1991b) explain the institutional-cultural logic of the abolishment of second chambers in three established democracies. What was abolished, after all, was a predemocratic remnant in countries whose relatively small size and homogenous social structure did not justify the existence of a second chamber (Lijphart, 1984). Keeler (1993) demonstrates that there is a correlation between the occurrence and success of social and economic reforms and two factors: the magnitude of crisis that the government faced and the size of mandate given to it by the citizens. These two define the size of the “window of opportunity” in which government can act. Walking this path is impossible for the analysis of the politics of regime structure reform. First, the vested interest of a government that earns a “large mandate” (measured as the size of governmental majority) in the institutional status quo is expected to increase, rather than decrease. Second, as already noted, the notion of “crisis” is too vague and its applicability to the 1990s cases of reform is especially questionable. In his analysis of two hundred years of constitutional history, Bogdanor (1988) argues that constitutional bursts happened in stormy political times, all of which signaled the end of a historical era. From this point of view, dramatic developments at the end of the 1980s—the collapse of the Soviet bloc, democratization, and globalization—might be seen to signal that this was a stormy era in which constitutional bursts are to be expected. On the other hand, these developments were interpreted as expressions of the victory of democracy and the free market, rather than of a certain institutional model of democracy. Still, some claim that these developments indirectly influenced regime structure reform. It is claimed, for example, that the end of the cold war influenced the timing of the Italian political crisis and its magnitude, and that it helped to promote electoral reform as well as other reforms (Sidoti, 1993). According to this view, what legitimized the corrupted government and its clientelistic practices was the existence of the communist threat, which was tangible in Italy with its strong Communist Party. When the cold war threat vanished, the necessary evil of partitocracy was no longer justified. Putting this interpretation into a wider context, it can be argued that only when the “communist threat” disappeared, and when the authoritarian alternative lost its appeal, did democracies start to look inward. That is, democracies turned to fix what was neglected for years under the pressures (or alibi) of the “Red” threat. While this hypothesis is quite appealing, we have too few diverse cases to validate it. The studies mentioned earlier do not pretend to offer exclusive or deterministic explanations for reform, but instead argue for its probability.

24

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

The probability of the promotion and adoption of reform is expected to be higher in certain regime structures or under certain domestic or international circumstances than in others. The main fault of the institutional approaches is that of overemphasizing background factors in the analysis. First, there is a tendency when analyzing reform to look at indicators that signify political, social, and economic change and decline, while ignoring those that imply stability, continuity, and improvement in the functioning of the system. Andeweg’s (1997) analysis of the pressures for reform in the Netherlands is an example. Analyzing indicators of the levels of trust in government, he demonstrates that describing the situation as a “legitimacy crisis”—what justified the establishment of committees for studying the possibility of reform of the regime structure—was an exaggeration. It seems that such a sober outlook also applies to the 1990s case studies (Dunleavy & Margetts, 1995). Second, even when the relationship between background factors and reform is not presented as deterministic, the centrality of the former as an explanation may still be exaggerated. While long-term developments and events can be constructive for the promotion of reform, scholars tend to ignore the fact that the existence of similar conditions in the past—for example, “crises” of the same and even higher magnitudes—did not lead to reform. Weaver’s (2001) analysis of the Canadian case, in which electoral reform did not penetrate into the decision-makers’ agenda, serves as an important evidence for the limits of the explanatory power of background factors and events. The Canadian procedure for electoral reform is simple—especially in comparison to other constitutional elements. There is dissatisfaction with the institutional status quo, along with recognition that regional cleavages are magnified due to the biases of the majoritarian electoral system. In addition, five rounds of discussion on constitutional reform, which dealt with various structural issues, took place in the 1980s and 1990s, so decision-makers had many opportunities to address the issue of electoral reform. But the issue of electoral reform was marginal in all these rounds, and was absent from all proposals. Thus, long-term developments and events are not sufficient, not only for the analysis of the adoption of reform, but even for the analysis of its penetration into the agenda. In short, while institutionalists (used in the wide sense here) tend to refrain from suggesting deterministic explanations, the weight they attribute to background factors should be considered carefully. Long-term developments and prominent events must be considered as part of the analysis, however, because they supply reformers with the opportunity to rest their case and collect “evidence” on the faults of the existing system. Certain long-term developments may also be necessary (but not sufficient) conditions for a successful reform move.

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

25

Historical-Comparative Approach Most single-case studies use an approach that can be called “historical comparative.” They do not just present chronological descriptions, but combine elements such as long-term developments and events with elements that characterize the rational choice approach, such as interests and actions of political actors.12 This blend also includes standard concepts and taxonomies of comparative politics. The historical-comparative approach is characterized by seeing the politics of reform as a process that, on the one hand, moves along a path that develops its own logic as a result of human action and inaction and the interactions between political actors, and, on the other hand, is bound by procedural requirements and constitutional conventions. Regarding regime structure reform as a process implies a distinction between phases, in which actors’ calculations and behaviors are substantially different. Such an approach can also be found in the cross-national comparative analysis of Banting and Simeon (1985) and that of Longley and Olson (1991b). In their introductions and summaries to collections of single-case studies on reforms of regime structures in established democracies, they suggest some generalizations on the basis of a historical-comparative approach. Longley (1988) also suggests a framework for analyzing the politics of reform in Britain and the United States that includes six components: events, individuals, organizations, mass media, issues, and perceptions of self-interests. Reed (1998) suggests abandoning the “Newtonian” approach in political science, inspired from physics, which sees the goal of political analysis as discovering the conditions in which a phenomenon will occur again and again. He suggests replacing it with inspiration from chemistry, viewing the politics of reform as the reactions of different components with each other. In essence, he appears to suggest adopting a path-dependent approach. Kingdon (1995) offers a similar approach, but from the point of view of decision-making theories. On the one hand, he claims that rational decisionmaking does not take place most of the time and is therefore not the right tool for analyzing most policy decisions (and for our concern, reform adoption is a policy decision). On the other hand, the incremental approach cannot be sufficient to explain sudden changes in the agenda—and, translated to our own concern, to understand not an evolution of institutions but rather the adoption of a substantial change in the rules of power distribution. He thus suggests adopting the “garbage can” model, according to which the “policy primeval soup” (a metaphor for the theories that explain the creation of life on earth) contains a blend of problems, solutions, participants, and their resources. From this perspective, the focal point for research is the meeting between three independent streams: policy (the solution), problems, and

26

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

politicians. Although Kingdon concentrated his research on the penetration of issues into the agenda, his approach is very useful for the study of the politics of reform and served as an inspiration in the design of the analytical framework presented later on. The equilibrium metaphor suggested by the rational choice approach and the “organic” conceptions of the fitness of political institutions to society and culture are very useful in explaining stability in regime structure. Yet they are not very promising for explaining reform of the regime structure in established democracies. The politics of reform does not fit a standard rational choice setting because it cannot be reduced to a single event (of reform adoption) or to a game between stable coalitions of actors with stable perceptions of interests and behavioral patterns (“supporters” and “opponents”). The politics of reform of the regime structure are also not about the appearance of a problem and the adoption of its solution, as may be interpreted from an exclusive use of institutional approaches. It should also be remembered that the product of the process is not one of carefully planned constitutional engineering, but rather of various political compromises (Norris, 1995b). Therefore, this study chose to use the more flexible and dynamic historicalcomparative approach. Adopting the historical-comparative approach has its costs. Due to the lack of a restricted paradigm that is based on a few universal presuppositions, research may not lead to the creation of elegant and parsimonious theoretical generalizations. A flexible framework might better suit the purpose of this study because research on the politics of reform is in its beginnings. It would be preferable to use a complete series of available research tools and learn which of those are most useful for analyzing the phenomenon. Moreover, different approaches may better fit the analysis of different parts of the phenomenon. Almond (1973), presenting a framework for analysis of political change, recommends the “historical remedy” to transfer historical episodes into analytical ones. He suggests different approaches for analyzing different components and phases of the process, incorporating theories of stability and change, determinism and choice. Lijphart (1998, p. 107) suggests a similar approach, claiming that different approaches should be judged according to their explanatory power, and “that it is unwise and self-defeating to focus on one [approach] to the complete exclusion of the others.” The framework for analysis presented in the next section adopts the historical-comparative approach. It allows the testing of several theories and thus serves the aim of this study, the development of theoretical and methodological recommendations for researching the politics of reform in the framework of different paradigms. It tests the explanatory power of each approach, and enables a determination of which is better to analyze the whole phenomenon and which can serve in understanding defined parts of it.

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

27

F RAMEWO RK FO R ANALYSIS

As described in Table 1.3, the framework for analysis contains five elements: long-term developments, events that occur at the time reform is promoted, the political actors, the stages in the reform process, and the characteristics of the reform initiative. The contribution of each component to our understanding of the phenomenon and its different parts will be tested for several failures to promote electoral reform in Israel and the successful attempt to promote government system reform; it will also be used for a cross-national comparison. Long-Term Developments The five long-term developments listed in this subsection are expected to make the ground more fertile for the adoption of reform. They are also expected to interact with the other components of the framework: to supply the basis for the interpretation of the origins of events; to influence actors’ perceptions and interests; and to influence the interpretation of the reform proposal and its marketing techniques. The common characteristic of these long-term developments is that each one can signify changes in the power relationship inside the political system or changes in the power of the system as a whole—as it is or as it is perceived. In other words, these developments signify changes in the power equilibrium, which means that the price of change is reduced, at least according to the real-time perceptions of the political actors. First, changes in voters’ behavior can result in substantial change in the party system. Such change in power distribution among parties and party camps may create pressures for a reform in the regime structure, aimed at creating different regulations for power distribution. For example, it was claimed that the transformation of the Israeli party system from a dominant party system to a bipolar system had increased the bargaining power of small, pivotal parties and created pressures for putting the large parties back in control (Brichta, 1998; Doron & Kay, 1995). However, in other cases, party system change did not anticipate the reform process, but reform was instead aimed at changing the party system through weakening what was perceived as parties’ duopolies (New Zealand) or monopolies (Italy, Japan). The second characteristic is an overly burdened and malfunctioning polity. The inability of the political system to deal with problems and challenges—derived from the weakening of its steering capacity or the nature of the challenges it faces—may create pressures for reform of the regime structure. This inability can result from such developments as party system change, combined with growing demands from government. In the 1980s, many political scientists and politicians claimed that this diagnosis described the state of established democracies. Pressures for decreasing the role of the

Accumulated experience

Developments in the functioning of government institutions

Changes in citizens’ perceptions of the polity

Overly burdened and malfunctioning polity

Changes in voters’ behavior

Long-term Developments

The judiciary

Other events

The public/ public opinion

Mass media

Experts

Interest/pressure groups

Political parties

Head of state

The Government

Coalition building Coalition breakdown

The parliament

Political Actors

Elections

Events

Reform adoption

Struggle for survival

Initial approval

Initiative and recognition

Stages in the Reform Process

TABLE 1.3 A Framework for the Analysis of the Politics of Reform

A multifaceted proposal or a simple proposal?

Characteristics of the Reform Initiative

28 THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

29

state were combined with growth in citizens’ demands. Reform, in this context, can be presented as a way to face the challenge through freeing government from the hold of established interests and reducing the temptation to continue with old-fashioned clientelistic practices. The third development involves changes in the citizens’ perceptions of the polity. A loss of confidence in political institutions can create a willingness to consider the adoption of reform. This may happen as a result of government overburden and malfunction, but it does have an independent, “subjective” component, dependent on citizens’ perceptions. The source of dissatisfaction may be in societal developments that transformed the ways citizens perceived state and government. Reform initiators and proponents can focus attention on such developments and magnify their weight in order to emphasize the weaknesses of the regime and the necessity of the remedy they offer. Fourth, developments in the functioning of government institutions that do not stem from a reform in regime structure, that lead to changes in the power relationship between government institutions and inside them, can make reform promotion easier. For example, a growing independence of the legislature from the executive branch in a parliamentary system, or from party leadership, can ease the impact of coalition pressures for blocking reform initiatives and at the same time expose legislatures to extraparliamentary pressures. Finally, there is accumulated experience. Three kinds of accumulated experience can make the ground fertile for the adoption of reform. The first is precedent or precedents. Experience with a lower scale or a different kind of reform that is perceived as a success can serve to calm reservations about reform in the regime structure—worries about abandoning traditional political conventions, vested interests worries of losing their achievements, or fears from the unknown. For example, direct elections of mayors in Israel, adopted and implemented in the 1970s, served such a function in the promotion of both electoral and government system reform. The second is the accumulation of experience with different governing alternatives. Having this experience would make it easier to persuade those who are unhappy with government functioning that the problem is systemic rather than partisan. The third is the tranquility of the guardians of the status quo, which stems from experience with repeated failures of previous attempts at reform. This can explain weak resentment to reform in its initial stages, and even support, in order to appeal to public opinion. Later on, when reform has already penetrated the decision-makers’ agenda and is recognized as feasible by political actors, the guardians of the status quo can find themselves in a much more demanding struggle, sometimes bound to their earlier populist statements and actions. An expression of such tranquility is exemplified in the case of New Zealand. The Labor candidate for PM promised, on the eve

30

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

of the 1987 elections—without any planning and being himself opposed to reform—a referendum on electoral reform. This seemed to reflect his selfassurance that reform would fail, while electoral gains could be achieved through such a promise. As it happened, this slip of the tongue was important in bringing reform back to the political agenda (Levine & Roberts, 1993, 1994a,b; Nagel, 1994). Catalyzing Events Events that occur at the time when the reform process takes place can serve as catalysts for its promotion (Norris, 1995b). The weight of events in the politics of reform is dependent on human activity—the ways actors use events. Various actors can influence events through their control of the agenda or their influence on it, or they may just be ready for anticipated events (e.g., general elections). However, especially in democracies, there is some uncertainty as to the way in which anticipated events will develop or unanticipated events may occur (e.g., coalition breakdown). Reformists can use events to influence the prices related to different behaviors by the various actors. Events can be used as “policy windows”—or “windows of opportunity”—periods during which limits that normally block innovation are temporarily pushed aside. This happens when events serve to sharpen, magnify, or focus attention on a certain problem to which a readily prepared solution (the reform proposal, in our case) is related (Kingdon, 1995). Events can be connected to long-term developments. For example, a coalition crisis can be used as evidence for growing coalition fragility that is related to a change in the party system. While events can be claimed to be “merely” symptoms of a problem, they still focus attention on it. Part of the struggle in the politics of reform is about problem definition (Rochefort & Cobb, 1994). A contested prognosis can include a debate over the very existence of a problem, its origins, and its magnitude. Reformists would be expected to focus attention on a problem to which they have linked their solution, magnify it, and market their version of the links between the origins of the problem and the reformist solution they offer. Its opponents are expected to try to minimize attention to it, suggest competing prognosis for its origins, and invalidate the prognosis suggested by reformers. Successful creation of linkages between issues that arise due to the influence of events serves to widen the context of the demand for reform (Banting & Simeon, 1985), as well as participation in its promotion (Baumgartner & Jones, 1994). In other words, it enables the recruitment of additional forces and adds additional interests to oppose those vested in the preservation of the regime structure. Elections are an integral part of the cycle of events in democracies. Their timing is entrenched by law, and while they can take place earlier

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

31

than scheduled in many states, their holding is always known well in advance. When elections get closer, politicians’ behaviors become more and more driven by reselection (of individual candidates) and reelection (of political parties) considerations. Election season supplies an opportunity to put pressures on politicians to promote reform. Long-term strategic considerations, based on the anticipated impact of reform on their future power, are replaced by the more pressing, immediate, short-term electoral benefits (or costs) that might result from supporting or opposing reform. As an electoral issue, reform can also appeal to parties that compete for the support of similar voters, as it can serve to distinguish them from other parties in their camp. Election results can create a momentum for reform. When results seem to be unpredicted (in systemic terms) or biased, it is easier to push electoral reform into the agenda. This happened, for example, when 1974 elections in Britain did not produce a one-party majority government (Longley, 1988). In New Zealand, reform penetrated the agenda of the Labor Party (and then the national agenda) after Labor suffered twice (in 1978 and 1981) from a relatively rare bias in majoritarian systems, being the party with the plurality of votes yet losing elections when the party with the second highest number of votes won a majority of seats in parliament. Coalition building is an anticipated event that follows elections in multiparty systems. In this situation, and also in cases when coalitions are built after a Government has resigned or is ousted, “horse-trading” is prominent. Behaviors of parties and individual politicians in the framework of these negotiations can provoke public protest and even innovative thinking inside government institutions, and may help those who claim that a reform is needed to present reform as a tool for cleaning the stables. Unlike routine “crises,” which seem to be an integral part of coalition politics, coalition breakdown is an unanticipated event. The cards are reshuffled, former coalition agreements are pushed aside, and a window of opportunity opens for temporary cooperation between legislators who at most times find themselves on the two sides of the coalition/opposition line. The veto power of small parties and factions against reform promotion may also be weakened as long as there are no new coalition obligations. Other events can be catalysts for reform. This can be unique to each country and its particular political and cultural context. In Israel, for example, various events—contested statements by ultraorthodox leaders and politicians, attempts at religious lawmaking, and demands for budgets for religious institutions—were presented to imply that the religious parties were too powerful. These were used as catalysts for mobilizing support for reform, which was offered as the “solution” to the “problem” of the “blackmail” power of the religious parties.

32

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Political Actors This subsection describes potential actors in the politics of reform, pointing to the way they can affect the process and their major resources. In a reformulation of Kingdon’s (1995) model (to serve the purpose of this study), actors combine three independent streams—problems (as pronounced in long-term developments), policy programs (in our case, reform proposal), and political events—to promote reform. Skillful and resourceful reform agents are expected to focus attention on certain problems, magnify them through the use of events, and to create a linkage between them and their reform proposal. Sometimes, actors need only to give a slight push toward renewing a well-established connection between problems and their solutions. At other times, this connection is essentially their own creation. The centrality of human action is related to the way the problem is defined; to the estimation of its weight; to magnifying and linking events; to linking reform as a solution to the problem; to influences on the preferences of other actors; and to mobilizing support for reform. The Parliament. Most legislative functions in parliamentary regimes are actually undertaken by the Government, and the coalition tends to pass most Government bills and reject most private and opposition ones (Hague, Harrop, & Breslin, 1998). Yet, many times—even in Westminster parliamentary regimes—Governments try to refrain from dealing with reform and grant the parliament relative freedom to decide. The centrality of parliament in the process is dependent upon the degree of its control over the legislative process. Institutional rules determine whether parliament is the sole legislature or if alternative paths to legislation (such as referendums, which integrate the public in the process) are available. In the Israeli and Japanese cases, MPs decided the fate of reform when they voted for and against specific reform bills. In situations when part of the process took place outside the parliament, it lost much control over reform promotion and content. In Italy, a referendum—which cancelled the existing electoral system that elected the senate—coerced MPs to adopt reform and drew its general features. In New Zealand, citizens decided on the alternative to the existing system in an indicative referendum, and, in the referendum that followed, decided they prefer this alternative to the existing system. However, even in these cases, parliaments and individuals MPs still played a central (though not dominant) role in the politics of reform. Parliaments are not unitary actors. Different intersections reveal various layouts of actors. The reform bill is deliberated and its fate and content are decided in different forums, typically the plenum and the committees. These forums are distinct, first, in terms of the nature and depth of the discussions. Committees are less expressive and more practical than plenums, which may

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

33

create a better environment for persuasion and compromise but also for more discrete manipulations of reform. Second, while the composition of the committee reflects the partisan composition of the parliament, its smaller size does not allow for a perfect match. Thus, it is probable that reformists will have to recruit two slightly different majorities, which makes their mission more difficult. In addition, the individual composition of the committee that discusses reform is important, as MPs from the same parliamentary party group can differ in their stands on it and sometimes even in their behavior. The MPs who hold key legislative positions—which gives them special authority and control over the agenda—can play a central role in parliamentary activities related to reform. The speaker can influence agenda setting in the plenum, while a committee chairperson can have such authority in his or her committee. In addition to those who are responsible for the procedures of legislation, special committees (such as the House Committee in the Israeli Knesset) and judicial advisors can be invited to join the struggle as arbitrators in procedural disputes. The centrality of the role the individual MPs play in the reform legislation process can stem not only from their official status, but also from their focused activity on reform, as initiators and supporters or as harsh opponents. Only a small minority in parliament—a hard core of opponents and proponents—takes part in the everyday struggle for the promotion and blockade of reform. Typically, there are struggles among parliamentary factions (or “parliamentary party groups”) and sometimes even within them. Behaviors of MPs in the plenum, committees, and those holding key positions are often influenced by formal and informal decisions made in the gatherings of the members of the Knesset party groups. When a prominent constitutional issue is at stake, it can be expected that decisions will be made in party institutions outside parliament. But many times, party institutions choose to leave a lot of freedom to the parliamentary faction: when it ratifies the decisions made by the parliamentary faction (whose members are typically prominent also in the party institutions); through nondecisions; or by implicitly giving freedom to the parliamentary faction so it can trade its position on reform to achieve other goals. Another dividing line that can influence MPs’ behavior patterns is the one between coalition and opposition. Many times reform is left out of regular disciplined coalition politics. However, stands and behaviors concerning it may be arranged along those lines when coalition parties decide (typically as a result of pressures of coalition partners) to coordinate their efforts in blocking reform or promoting a certain version of it. Opposition, for its part, may form its stand on reform in reaction to the governing coalition stands and behaviors. It may adopt an opposite position for the sake of opposing Government. It might even find reform a useful tool for ousting Government,

34

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

when it can effectively use its forces to play reform opponents and proponents inside the governing coalition against each other. The influence of MPs does not stem only from their ability to vote for or against reform. They can initiate moves to speed up or (especially) delay legislation. Delay tactics can be used with the hope that support of a reform bill will erode over time and that the bill will never reach the point of being decided on. Another possibility of blockade is that of amending the bill in a way that either neutralizes its reformist components or intentionally changes its content (e.g., by making it “too radical”) and thus would lead to its rejection by a majority. In addition to their legal authority, and usually as its by-products, MPs have other resources, such as a strong position in mass communication as newsmakers or in various interest groups. They can mobilize external actors—such as interest groups and public opinion—in order to influence the stands and behaviors of their colleagues. The Government. Despite Governments’ advantages over parliaments, they usually play a secondary role in the politics of reform, especially in those cases when reform is successfully promoted. Governments seem to be important in the role that they do not play—that is, their noninterference has a significant meaning. When Governments do take part in reform, they sometimes seem to encourage delays in legislation to avoid creating a conflict between government coalition partners (or factions within these parties) that hold different stands on the issue. Head of State. In parliamentary regimes, the (largely ceremonial) head of state usually refrains from dealing with controversial issues. Yet the symbolic, nonpartisan status supplies heads of states with significant legitimacy, which can make them effective actors if they decide to intervene in the politics of reform. As the nonpartisan representative of the “people,” the head of state can help widen support for reform beyond partisan lines, demonstrating that the issue at stake is not “political” or partisan but rather systemic and national. The Judiciary. The judiciary can play a reactive role during reform. Both reform proponents and opponents can use it to counter procedural maneuvers they claim are illegal. Unintentionally, it may also help reformists make their case when its decisions regarding government misconduct and corruption are exploited to “prove” and magnify the “problem.” The nonpartisan, professional stand of the judicial branch can be an important source of legitimacy for reformists, useful for mobilizing support beyond the partisan arena. Political Parties. It is common to argue that parties’ stands on electoral reform stem from their size. Large parties are expected to support reforms that will

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

35

decrease proportionality, as they are supposed to increase their seats in parliament and their influence in government and reject an increase in proportionality that might decrease their representation and influence. Small parties are expected to be interested in reforms with opposite effects: to reject a decrease in proportionality because it might not only curtail their representation and influence but could also cause their extinction, and to support an increase in proportionality, which is expected to increase their representation and influence. Parties’ stands and behaviors often differ from these expectations. In addition to their size, parties’ locations on the ideological continuum can influence their stands on reform. Parties closer to the center are expected to support majoritarian features due to expected systemic centripetal tendencies; parties closer to the extremes are expected to support proportionality because of expected systemic centrifugal tendencies. Although adding this factor does not suffice to cover all cases, it improves our ability to explain and predict parties’ behavior. Especially in the case of the politics of reform, it should not be presumed that parties are unitary actors. It is useful to distinguish between three components of parties: the parliamentary faction (or parliamentary party group), the central institutions (“party headquarters”), and the members. The parliamentary factions often have some freedom to determine their stands on the issue of reform, and in most cases their members have significant influence in party institutions and on party members. Sometimes, however, party institutions discuss and even make decisions, obligatory and non-obligatory, relating to the behavior of their parliamentary faction. Because these institutions often play a central role in selecting party candidates for parliament, they have the power to enforce their decisions on their party MPs. Usually, the influence of party members is low, but there are important exceptions. For example, at the beginning of the 1990s, the Israeli Labor Party adopted party primaries to select both its leader and its candidate list. This pressured candidates to be more responsive to public opinion, which was in favor of reform. Interest/Pressure Groups. Protective interest groups—associations whose primary aim is to protect the interests of certain groups, such as workers (unions), employees, immigrants, and so on—can be recruited to the struggle for or against reform. They can decide to invest some of their material and organizational resources in this struggle, believing that it directly affects their interests or that involvement can be profitable for improving their image— portraying themselves as a group that is concerned with issues of public interest. Promotional interest groups—created specifically to advance certain ideas and values—that are expected to be involved in the politics of reform include existing groups with constitutional agendas and groups specially established for the promotion (or blockade) of reform. Pro-reform pressure groups will aspire to play the role of the nonpartisan representatives of the

36

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

public, or the largest possible part of it, vis-à-vis the institutional (governmental and partisan) actors. They will try to influence the positions and behaviors of decision-makers by mobilizing experts’ authority and the popular legitimacy of supportive public opinion. Although mass protests would be a desired source of power, successful groups cannot base their success on the willingness of largely passive crowds to take an active part in reform activities. They would have to sustain their popular image by creating media events around a core of devoted activists and through the manipulative use of public opinion polls. Experts. In the context of the politics of reform, experts are those perceived to have professional knowledge on the issue of regime structure. Political scientists, sociologists, administrators, law scholars, and historians usually possess the credibility to serve in this role. They may appear on the scene as individuals or groups, expressing opinions in the media, public lectures, conferences, reports, and other reform-related publications. Experts may be among those who designed the reform—either as its sole designers or as participants in special reform committees—or they may appear as expert witnesses in specific committees. Using their professional-scientific authority, experts can supply or deny legitimacy for certain reform proposals. They can also make credible predictions concerning the impact of reform on the functioning of the system and the anticipated power relationships between its governmental and partisan components. Mass Media. Opinions for and against reform are expressed through the mass media: in interviews, editorials, columns, talk shows, documentaries, and so on. The mass media plays the role of a mediator when it spread messages among the elites and to the public, as well as from selected parts of the public to the elite. Mass media influence in democracies does not stem from their preaching certain opinions. Usually, the mass media tries to keep an image of impartiality, although sometimes some newspapers and radio and television networks present clear stands on the issue of reform. However, the mass media is more than a channel of communication or a platform for expressing opinions of owners, editors, and journalists. The context of the news item in which reform is presented is important, as this framework enjoys the image of reflecting reality and not interpreting it or trying to directly influence public opinion. Mass media may have an inherent tendency toward the status quo—being dependent on elite newsmakers—and thus may present reformers as a marginal group of dreamers or purists. This tendency can be counterbalanced when there are controversies within and between elites. Sticking to its own routines and biases, without intentionally taking sides, the mass media can play an important role in the politics of reform. By

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

37

focusing and magnifying certain events, the mass media may help interest groups put pressure on decision-makers. It can assist reformists if it adopts their prognosis of a “crisis,” and even more so if it accepts the linkages they suggest between the issues and events that it covers and the need for reform. The Public and Public Opinion. One of the central issues, especially in studying the phenomena of political change, relates to the question that is dichotomously presented as follows: was the change in regime structure initiated, promoted, and adopted by the elite, or did the elite only respond to popular pressures? This research adopts a perspective of elite pluralism—several interacting elites who may cooperate or be in conflict with each other. Reformist leaders come from the political elite as well as other elites, such as the academic and economic elite (and, in Israel, retired military generals). Reform initiatives do not originate with the public but rather come from the elites. Although the elites run and coordinate most of the show, they are expected to turn to the public to enhance their powers vis-à-vis their opponents. Pro-reform members of the elite, facing the difficulties of reform promotion, are likely to try to increase public influence to counter the vested interests of large parts of the political elite. The degree of public influence is dependent on the reform procedure. When the parliament is the sole legislature, the public can only press decision-makers by demonstrating, petitioning, and other activities. In cases when referendum is part of the process, as in New Zealand and Italy, the public took part in the actual decision-making (see chapter nine). The public, for its part, is not interested in the details of reform, but in change itself. It should also be kept in mind that, in democracies, political participation beyond voting in elections is practiced by a small minority of citizens. Public involvement in the politics of reform is usually reactive and passive—with the exception of a few large outcries that, while leaving a great impression, erode over time. This makes “public opinion”—a vague concept basically seen as the aggregation of individuals’ opinions about political issues—prone to manipulation by interested actors. Public opinion, as used in the politics of reform, reflects in great part the opinion of a passive public, who would not react radically if reform were to be rejected or adopted. Yet it can be successfully used to legitimize the struggle of the hard core of reformists. Skilled reformers can transform it into a threatening force, especially by using the fact that the passive public is still an electorate. They can claim not only that the public supports reform, but also that it will punish those politicians who refrain from supporting it in the general elections. In other words, skilled reformers magnify the impact of public opinion by focusing attention on the opinions concerning reform, creating the image that reform is of central concern to the public, rather than one of many issues on which individuals express opinions.

38

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Stages of the Reform Promotion Process Over time, we can delineate four stages in the reform promotion process, stages during which the perceptions, interests, motives, and behaviors of certain crucial actors in the process substantially change. Each stage is distinct by virtue of having differently composed reform and antireform coalitions, crystallized around diverse perceptions and interests. If we want to understand the politics of reform, we must explain how the initiative passed each of these stages. The following four-stage division is based on an analysis of the promotion of the direct election law (1988–1992) in Israel and fits the Knesset’s legislative process.13 The stages of legislation are used as signposts of the four stages of reform. After all, the politics of reform is about passing specific legislation, and efforts are focused on the different stages of legislation. In each stage, reformers struggle to bring the legislation to an active decision and recruit a majority for its passage. In each stage, several battles, maneuvers, and countermaneuvers take place in extraparliamentary arenas, yet the final result is decided in the legislature. It is also important to remember that reformists must win at every stage: a defeat pushes them back to the starting point; a standstill does not serve their case either. Initiative and Recognition. Kingdon (1989) describes the penetration of a policy alternative into the decision-makers’ agenda as a passage through several filters. It starts with all possible policy alternatives that relate to an issue; then it is filtered through the public, then through the elites, and only then comes to the decision-makers’ agenda. Only after passing all these filters does reform enter “the list of subjects or problems to which governmental officials, and people from outside of government closely associated with those officials, are paying some serious attention at any given time” (Kingdon, 1995. p. 3). Bachrach and Baratz (1963) point to the existence of a built-in bias against the raising of certain issues on the political agenda. In other words, political elites are expected to ignore reform that may put their stand in jeopardy. As Weaver’s (2001) analysis of the politics of electoral reform in Canada shows, penetrating the decision-makers’ agenda is not an easy task, even when background factors and events look constructive. This stage begins when reformists succeed in placing reform—one of various possible issues—on the public agenda. An initiative or initiatives, originated outside parliament or within it, accumulates presence in the public debate, especially through the mass media. The issue must stay on the agenda long enough to consolidate its status and enable its further penetration. The reform initiative is pushed forward using various means, such as publications, newspaper articles, conferences, and rallies. The issue is linked to other issues and reformist ideas are presented as solutions to problems that are on the

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

39

agenda. The public and the decision-makers become aware of the existence of the reform initiative, and some recognize it as a serious proposal. At this stage, most MPs and Government ministers only react to the initiative, and only a minority adopts it as an issue that should be actively advanced. One indication of the penetration of reform into decision-makers’ agenda is the submission of a reform proposal as a legislation bill or as an issue for discussion in a Governmental/partisan/multipartisan/special committee. A lack of sufficient interest in reform and no external pressure for it would likely lead to the burial of the proposal at this early stage. Many times, a report is published and sent somewhere to collect dust; other times, disagreements in the committee do not even allow the submission of a report. Initial Approval. At this stage, decision-makers make their first active decision (or decisions) on the fate of the proposal. In Israel, this stage includes the preliminary reading, deliberation in the committee, and the first reading. At the beginning of this stage, the stands and behaviors of politicians do not necessarily result from their estimations of the long-term strategic consequences of reform. Many may even ignore the issue altogether. At the end of this stage, the issue can expect to get more attention. Yet, even then, MPs’ behaviors are still not exclusively dominated by long-term strategic considerations. Many may vote according to other considerations, such as expressing support for “change.” They may include those opposing the specific reform proposal who might hope that the reform formula will be amended later on. The high pressure of interest groups and public opinion, together with the anticipation that this proposal, like those before, will die somewhere along the long road, may lead some guardians of the institutional status quo to refrain from working too hard to block reform. Struggle for Survival. At this stage, the reform bill is in a static position in the legislative process. The proposal is deliberated and reworked in anticipation of its submission for final decision. Its future implications cannot be ignored anymore. Reformists try to maintain their supportive majority and, if needed, to rebuild it. They must recruit a majority that will support concrete and specific reform, not merely “change.” Some reform opponents who were previously passive now wake up and try to use all means to block it, typically by delays, the promotion of alternative proposals, or attempts at neutralizing the bill. The newsworthiness of the issue is likely to be exhausted, as the struggle now involves such elements as technical details and long deliberations— rather unappealing to most people, who are satisfied with supporting “change” and mainly interested in focused proceedings such as voting for or against reform. This stage requires continued commitment from hard-core supporters inside and outside of parliament. It may end with the burial of the initiative or its arrival at final decision forums.

40

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

Reform Adoption. This is the last stage in the process. Whoever has postponed a decision up to this point—on the basis of past experience that led the MP to believe that the bill would be buried—now has to face the fact that it has become a viable option and its strategic consequences must be calculated. Yet, if reform has reached this stage, it is probable that it is widely supported by the public, and the implicit rejection of it may hold high public and electoral costs. Therefore, reform opponents are expected to perform last-minute, desperate maneuvers—such as attempts to block the reform bill from reaching the plenum or actions to neutralize it—rather than stand up and reject reform in public or through voting in the parliament’s plenum. Characteristics of the Reform Proposal The major claim of this section is that the multifaceted nature of mixed systems14—government or electoral—makes their promotion easier. First, mixed systems enable the preservation of components of the old system, even when they suggest substantial changes in the rules of power distribution. Referring to the wave of electoral reforms at the beginning of the twentieth century, Carstairs (1980) argues that past experience had an influence on the nature of the systems that were adopted. Those countries that adopted PR systems previously used multimember districts or multiround elections; those countries that preserved majoritarian systems already used single member districts. The preservation of certain components of the old system in mixed systems can be used to demonstrate sensitivity to institutional tradition. For example, while New Zealand adopted a radical reform that meant replacing a majoritarian system with PR, it preserved single member districts, as well as a special mechanism for Maori representation. Second, preservation helps to calm (many times, mistakenly) those who fear that reform would hurt their political power: elites who are afraid that reform will hurt the good old power structure; those parties who enjoy the current structure; and incumbent MPs who are concerned with their personal political future. While the mix of old and new might seem to decrease uncertainty, it still leaves room for ambiguity about the interpretation of the political consequences of the reformed system. This supplies reformers with a space for maneuvers between holders of different interests and beliefs. Through exploiting the multifaceted nature of the mixed system, skillful reformists can appeal to various actors with different interests and ideologies, even contradictory ones. Such appeal is possible because on the side of the old familiar components are new ones that inject some uncertainty about the consequences of reform on future representation and power distribution. Different components (or combinations of them) can be presented to appeal to different groups, while the result of the whole package remains ambiguous. Reform can also be sold as a way to eat the

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

41

cake without disturbing its icing—as a means of demonstrating responsiveness to pressures for reform and, at the same time, largely preserving the old power structure. RESEARCH QUESTIONS AND HYPOTHESIS

After defining key concepts and presenting theory and research tools, we can now turn to the major research questions and hypothesis. First, what are the long-term developments that characterize an established democracy that adopts reform in its regime structure? As stated previously, background factors cannot serve as sufficient conditions in any case. It remains to be determined whether specific long-term developments are necessary conditions for reform. The hypothesis is that the long-term developments found to be necessary conditions for reform are those that led reform to be contested in an arena in which power was more diffused than in everyday politics or in the history of the given political system. Substantial dispersion of power is likely to neutralize the relevant veto players; no player would have the ability to block reform on his or her own. This might leave room for maneuverability in terms of building a reform coalition. This hypothesis is linked to the notion that reform is more likely in the face of “crisis,” which may lead to, or even be expressed in, the breakup of the old power equilibrium. Second, what is the weight of events in explaining the successful promotion of reform? Do catalyzing events have any impact of their own? Or is their impact derived from the reformers’ skillful exploitation of them? The hypothesis is that events act as catalysts as a result of human action. Even if these events are dramatic enough to open windows of opportunity, and do not require efforts by the reformers to magnify them, reform promotion occurs only as a result of the actors’ success in connecting these events to reform. Third, what is the weight of each actor in the reform process? The hypothesis is that reform will be adopted in abnormal conditions, when power distribution among actors is significantly high. Normal politics, characterized by executive dominance, will be replaced by more diffused politics, in which parliament, interest groups, and possibly other actors play an important role. Four, are there substantial differences in actors’ behaviors in the different stages? While the distinction between stages was based on the presupposition that such differences exist, we might still see that behavior was quite stable during the process. The hypothesis is that there are substantial differences in behaviors at each stage, which substantiates the claim that reform is a process that can be reduced to several stages, but not to a single act of decision-making. Fifth, did reformers exploit the multifaceted nature of mixed systems (and even other two-tiered systems) for the sake of promoting reform? If the

42

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

answer is positive, how were they exploited? Is this exploitation vital to explaining the successful promotion of reform? The hypothesis is that the exploitation of the multifaceted nature of mixed systems is especially important in building and rebuilding the pro-reform coalition because it enables the recruitment of various forces with different perceptions and interests. RESEARCH DATA AND ITS INTERPRETATION

Both quantitative and qualitative tools were used to pinpoint the relevant long-term developments. Quantitative data included, for example, indicators that point to long-term changes in public opinion and behavior (such as trust in governmental institutions, electoral volatility, and participation in elections). The qualitative tools included studies of developments in Israeli politics and society, ranging from general works on Israeli politics and society (Eisenstadt, 1985; Galnoor, 1982; Horowitz & Lissak, 1989) to studies that focus on government institutions (Arian, 1998; Medding, 1990) and constitutional developments (Gutmann, 1988; Rubinstein & Medina, 1996). Other components of the research framework—events, actors’ stands and behaviors, the exploitation of the multifaceted nature of the reform proposals—were studied through the analysis of primary sources.15 In order to understand developments as the actors see them at the time they occur, and to refrain from the sin of rationalization and anachronism, this study emphasizes the use of sources from the time the process took place. The role of events in the process, and the ways the reform proposals were tied to them, were tested in the context of different forums in which different players interacted: newspapers, the Knesset plenum and committees, partisan gatherings, and propaganda material of interest groups. The interests and perceptions of the political actors were identified using primary sources such as laws, bills, Knesset protocols and Knesset committee protocols, party documents and protocols, publications of pressure groups and research institutions, and news and columns from daily newspapers and journals. It should be noted that accessibility to some sources was problematic, especially material from parties. Some Israeli parties have no archives; others maintain archives in which material cannot be identified by the use of keywords. Collections of daily newspapers are also limited in the years they cover and the issues that are indexed. However, a cross section of various materials allowed for sufficient coverage of the necessary sources. Also useful for identifying perceptions and interests of the actors were secondary sources—such as articles in party journals and articles and books written by politicians and other public figures. The analysis of the dynamics of the reform processes—the ways they developed through their different stages, including changes in actors’ perceptions and behaviors—required a careful chronological reconstruction. This

STABILITY AND REFORM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES

43

project was greatly helped by various studies on electoral reform in Israel, ranging from wide historical accounts of attempts at electoral reform (Brichta, 1988a, 2001; Diskin & Diskin, 1988) to studies and accounts of certain eras (Allon, 1995; Bechor, 1996; Diskin & Diskin, 1995; Doron, 1996; Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). Detailed case studies enabled a cross-national comparative analysis of the politics of reform in several established democracies (see chapter nine).

This page intentionally left blank.

PART ONE

The Politics of Electoral Reform in Israel

This page intentionally left blank.

TWO

The Electoral System, 1948–1969 A Brief Historical Overview

THIS CHAPTER PRESENTS an overview of the politics of electoral reform in

the first two decades of Israel’s independence (1948–1969).1 Its major aim is to provide the reader with the necessary historical background—a short analysis of the origins of the electoral system and the failed reform attempts of that era. The detailed analysis of electoral reform initiatives that appears in the next two chapters actually addresses attempts at reforming a system that was adopted in 1948 by the Provisional State Council—the legislative body that served from the proclamation of independence until the first elections—and did not change much since then. We start here with an analysis of the formulation of the electoral system for electing the Constituent Assembly (Ha’asefa Hamechonenet—which later became the first Knesset). The second section deals with the preservation of the major features of the electoral system for the elections to the second Knesset (1951), and the small changes that were nevertheless adopted. The third section examines the failed attempts at promoting four reform initiatives in the 1952–1959 period and the entrenchment of the system that gained a legal status that no other constitutional element enjoyed until the 1990s: protection from change by a plurality vote. The final section describes the politics of electoral reform in the 1960s, a period in which the issue of reform was pushed aside to enable the establishment of interparty alignments. THE FO RMULATION OF THE ELECTO RAL SYSTEM FO R THE CONSTITUENT ASSEMBLY

The Israeli electoral system was, and still is, distinctive, not because of its adherence to the principal of proportionality through the use of a proportional

47

48

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

allocation formula. Most democracies used PR systems in the mid-twentieth century, and have continued to use them up to the present (Carstairs, 1980; Lijphart, 1984). Two other elements are more distinct: the use of a single nationwide district for seat allocation and the rigid closed-list system. Most democracies have systems with subnational districts and many include a personal element in their system, symbolic or substantial. The exclusive use of a nationwide single district for allocating seats is also distinguishable from the custom of several democracies to use subnational districts at the same time that they ensure nationwide proportionality through national seat pools. This section suggests an analysis of the routes that led to the adoption of each of these three major features of the system. There are two main ways of allocating parliamentary seats: proportionally, according to which seats are distributed among candidates’ lists according to their shares of votes, or majoritarian allocation, by which seats are allocated to those who won a plurality or a majority of votes in a given district. In most cases, proportional allocation is conducted in districts with at least three representatives, while majoritarian distribution is conducted in SMDs. Large majorities in both the Provisional Government and Provisional State Council supported PR. In addition, PR opponents recognized that under the conditions of war—when many recruits were far from their residences and often transferred from one front to the other—it was impossible to adopt and implement a system that would require an especially complicated division of the state into many districts with an equal number of voters. Only a few, among them David Ben-Gurion, who headed the Provisional Government, tried to promote an SMD system. However, their initiatives were rejected in both the Provisional Government and the Provisional State Council. The clear preference for the PR principle should also be understood in a wider context, beyond the unique circumstances of war. First, not only did most democracies at the time use PR, but this system was usually seen as more democratic, especially in the leftist circles, which were dominant in the politics of the Yishuv. Second, this principle was part of the inclusive political legacy developed in the Yishuv and Zionist institutions (Sager, 1985). Third, the UN partition resolution (29.11.1948; in Galnoor & Hofnung, 1993, p. 20) determined implicitly that the parliaments of the states that were to be established in Palestine would be elected proportionally. Finally, the majority of those who formulated the electoral system were representatives of small and medium parties who tended to stick to the formula that ensured most of them an optimal distribution of representation and power (Doron & Maor, 1989). The high level of proportionality the Israeli system is known for is not dictated by the adoption of the proportional formula. Under PR formulas, levels of proportionality are varied, mainly due to two factors (Taagepera &

THE ELECTORAL SYSTEM, 1948–1969

49

Shugart, 1989): the first is the magnitudes of the districts in which seats are allocated—the higher the number of seats, the better the fit between national vote shares and seat shares in parliament; the second is the legal threshold. In many states, election laws dictate that parties must have a minimal share of the votes to be eligible to occupy seats in parliament. All other things being equal, the higher the threshold, the lower the system’s level of proportionality. Thus, high proportionality in Israel relates to the use of a very large district—a single 120-member nationwide district—for seat allocation, and a low legal threshold.2 The Election Ordinance to the Constituent Assembly, 1948, determined that after the allocation of seats according to Droop quotas (number of votes/121), the remainders would be distributed among those parties that already won seats (Article 30). Thus, a full quota (0.83 percent) served as the (relatively low) legal threshold. The remainders allocation formula was the Hagenbach-Bischoff formula, which allocates remainders to the lists with the higher averages.3 This formula tends to reward large party lists, as their size makes the changes in their divider less dramatic than in small parties. This rule, which, unlike the others, serves large parties, seemed to have passed unnoticed; later on, it became a contested issue and was replaced in 1951 by the largest remainder rule, which better addresses the interests of small parties.4 While a single nationwide district was already in use in the Yishuv era, there were instances in which territorial or ethnic districts were used in national and local elections (Biger, 1985; Horowitz & Lissak, 1989; Sager, 1985). Protocols of deliberations held in the year prior to the first elections reveal that a single nationwide district was far from being the only serious alternative considered (Rahat 2001a). The draft constitution—which served as the basis for deliberations in the Constitution Committee of the State Provisional Council—suggested a PR system with multimember districts and a national pool (Cohen, 1949). Even representatives from small parties, who fought later on against any initiative for electoral reform, did not object to such proposals, and even submitted similar ones. In short, the preference for PR was evident, but with no obvious preference for a single nationwide district. However, the Ordinance of the Elections of the Constituent Assembly, drafted by the constitution committee of the State Provisional Council, suggested the use of a single nationwide district. Two immediate circumstances led to abandoning the idea of elections in subnational districts. First, the demographic composition of the state changed. The Arabs, who were expected to compose 40 percent of the population, came as a result of the war to compose about 10 percent of it. The motivation to develop a district system that would discourage Arab national crystallization decreased. Second, the appeal of a single nationwide district system increased when it became clear that warfare would complicate subdistrict elections and possibly make

50

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

conducting them impossible. Even prominent promoters of proposals for subnational district elections recognized the logistical problem as crucial and decided to temporarily postpone their initiatives. The closed-list system is an additional prominent feature of the electoral system that was adopted. It offered no option to the voter in terms of influencing the composition of the candidate lists. In the elections for the Yishuv’s legislative body, the Assembly of Representatives (Aseffat Hanivcharim), voters could cross off the name of a candidate. Those whose names were crossed off by at least half of the voters for the party list were transferred to the bottom of the list (which usually meant that they would not be elected). This element appeared in the draft of the election bill, but a large majority (nineteen vs. one) of the Provisional State Council rejected it. If it had been kept, its “mechanical” influence would have been largely symbolic, as it is rare that as many as half of party voters would bother to cross off a candidate. Yet, even if 50 percent of a party list’s voters would not bother to cross off a certain name, such a move by a significant minority of voters would encourage parties to be more sensitive to the personal composition of their lists or refrain from nominating unpopular candidates in the first place. The rejection of this personal element also made it harder for future reformers to promote any initiative that aimed to increase voter influence on the personal composition of the party lists. They had to fight for the very principal of granting some influence to the voters on the personal composition of candidate lists, rather than on its enhancement. The issue of the electoral system was not central in the deliberations that took place at the time of the establishment of the state. These dealt mainly with a wide array of constitutional issues, such as human and civil rights, relations between government institutions, and questions of state and religion. When the issue of the electoral system was addressed, a clear preference for proportionality was expressed; very little debate on the lack of any personal element occurred; and there was recognition that the use of a single nationwide district was a necessity justified by immediate circumstances and would not obligate its future use. In short, the system was adopted as a legacy of the Yishuv and the Zionist movement institutions. It also best suited the warfare conditions and was seen as a provisional mechanism that would have no bearing on the future system, since the elected Constituent Assembly was supposed to formulate the electoral system in the framework of its constitution-making mission (Brichta, 1988a; Medding, 1988). CONTINUITY AND SMALL CHANGES (1949–1951)

The Constituent Assembly, which later became the first Knesset (February 1949–June 1951), hardly dealt with the question of the electoral system in its

THE ELECTORAL SYSTEM, 1948–1969

51

first twenty-two months. It concentrated its efforts on legislation concerning local government, a pressing judicial-governmental issue; on the national level, it focused on the debate over the adoption of a written constitution. That debate ended with the adoption of a resolution that a constitution would be established step-by-step, as a collection of separate basic laws that would address various constitutional issues. The Knesset held deliberations on the electoral system and the possibility of reforming it almost two years after the adoption of the “temporary” system for electing the Constituent Assembly. In retrospect, the deliberations of the Constitution, Law and Justice Committee at the time were quite instructive. At that time, most parties had no firm position on the issue of the electoral system, and their representatives expressed their personal points of view. Unlike the adversarial debate that developed later on, there seemed to be a real possibility of formulating a compromise reform proposal—or at least some smaller scale amendments. The positions expressed by the different parties’ representatives also already indicated future tendencies: Mapai representatives tended to support reform, while the representatives of other parties seemed to be comfortable with the existing system. The politics of reform was at a crossroads: it could go the way of small-scale change through compromise or through conflict over substantial reform. The issue remained at this crossroads when the electoral law for the second Knesset was legislated. On the one hand, there was wide agreement that the existing system should be readopted, particularly since election day was drawing closer and the issue did not get its fair share of deliberations. Reformers were satisfied that its name, “The Election Law for the Second Knesset,” signified its provisional nature (Yaacobi & Gera, 1975).5 On the other hand, the first Knesset was the only one that adopted two amendments to the electoral system: the increase of the legal threshold from 0.83 percent to 1.0 percent of the valid votes and the replacement of the Hagenbach-Bischoff remainders allocation formula that favors large parties with the largest remainder formula according to which any party list may win a single seat from the remainder pool, with no relation to its size. It was the last time the discussion and vote on the electoral system were not overshadowed by the threat of substantial reform. This left some room for maneuvering, as evident from the fact that two differently composed majorities supported these two amendments. In short, the Knesset did not close the door to future changes, and was flexible enough to adopt smallscale changes. However, the status of the electoral system, while not entrenched by law, was enhanced because it was used, with only marginal changes, for a second time—earning a sort of default status. Later initiatives, no matter how minor, were linked more logically and successfully with the will to substantially reform the system, and were seen as a dangerous precedent.

52

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

THE ENTRENCHMENT OF THE “ T E M P O R ARY” SYST EM ( 1952–1959)

The coalition agreement between Mapai and the General Zionists Party (GZ), which served as a basis for the establishment of the fourth Government in December 1952, stated that both parties would act to increase the legal threshold to 10 percent. This initiative eroded incrementally as Mapai, under the pressure of its small allies, repeatedly lowered the targeted threshold, until it was abandoned altogether in 1955. In September 1954—at the same time that the threshold initiative was in the last stages of its demise—Mapai’s central committee adopted the SMD system as part of its political program, with the support of a large majority and most senior figures. Following that, Mapai and the GZ established a parity bipartisan committee aimed at formulating a mutually acceptable version of electoral reform. This move was supposed to exploit the decline in coalition considerations on election eve. Because the two parties combined held a majority in the Knesset, legislation was supposed to be only a formal implementation of the extraparliamentary bipartisan agreement. The GZ rejected SMD and Mapai agreed that its reform proposal—which preserved PR while raising the threshold substantially—would serve as the basis for negotiations. This proposal suggested a decrease in the size of the Knesset, from 120 to 71 MKs; that 60 MKs would be elected proportionally in 20 three-member districts and 11 from a compensatory national pool. However, it became apparent that the GZ was less enthusiastic about reform than Mapai, when, in response to various disagreements with Mapai, it delayed and cancelled meetings of the bipartisan committee. The negotiations reached a deadlock when the two sides debated the mechanism for determining the boundaries of the electoral districts. Mapai argued that the Supreme Court should be the first and last to decide; the GZ wanted the two parties to design the districts, with a right of petition to the Supreme Court. The two large parties, with their Knesset majority, failed to agree on the content of reform, leaving the default system intact. Reform initiatives did not reach the Second Knesset (1951–1955) in the form of bills. The fate of the above two prominent initiatives was determined outside the Knesset. The issue of the electoral system was deliberated in the Knesset plenum and the Sub-Committee for Basic Laws, mainly in the context of the legislation of the election law and the Basic Law: The Knesset. These deliberations were not yet as adversarial as they would later become. The majority adopted only the principal of proportionality as a constitutional element, and did not give the use of a single-nationwide district the same status. The legislation of the Basic Law: The Knesset was not completed in the second Knesset, so the basic features of the electoral system did not gain constitutional status. The election law, legislated when the elections for the third Knesset got closer, was adopted in a wide consensus. It preserved the existing

THE ELECTORAL SYSTEM, 1948–1969

53

system as a default, as the only system possible until the legislation of the basic law was complete. At first glance, it may seem that this signified a freezing of the debate on reform. However, the re-adoption of the system and its third consecutive use indicates that it was transformed, even from the point of view of its opponents, from a provisional mechanism, justified by special circumstances, into a default. To summarize, the struggle for reform during the second Knesset term ended with the victory of the existing system. While it was not yet entrenched in a basic law, it had already gained the status of an agreed on default. It also accumulated wider support because opponents of the radical initiatives of Mapai and the GZ, whose independent survival was threatened, were pushed to see it, more and more, as their preferred alternative. After the third Knesset elections in 1955, the pro-reform parties, Mapai and the GZ, lost their combined hold of a majority of seats. This time, Mapai preferred to establish the governing coalition with the Socialist parties rather than with the GZ. Under these conditions, the two failed to coordinate their reform moves. Unlike the two reform initiatives of 1953–1955, which were largely a bipartisan, extraparliamentary issue, the two prominent reform initiatives of this period were submitted to the Knesset: the first in the form of amendments to the Basic Law: The Knesset; the second in bills that suggested a referendum to decide on electoral reform. The third Knesset reinitiated the legislation of the Basic Law: The Knesset, and completed it in 1958. After failing to prevent the inclusion of proportionality in the basic law during the deliberations in the committees, Mapai submitted an amendment that suggested replacing PR with the majoritarian principal. In response, the GZ submitted its own amendment, which offered a vague framework for a two-tiered PR system, to include both subnational districts and a national pool. Not only did the pro-reform parties fail to recruit the support of a third party, which was necessary for a majority, but they also failed to cooperate with each other. Both amendments were supported only by their initiators and easily rejected in the plenum. In contrast, the multiparty antireform coalition was coordinated in its support for the existing system and its rejection of reforms. It also succeeded in entrenching the use of a single, nationwide constituency side-by-side with PR, and added a clause that protected both elements from future amendment by plurality vote.6 In November 1958, Mapai MK Yosef Almogi submitted a private member bill that suggested conducting a referendum that would decide between PR and an SMD system. It was assumed that a majority of the public would support electoral reform, or at least that it had a better chance with the public than with the Knesset MKs. Still, Mapai had to recruit a majority for its referendum initiative in the same Knesset that had rejected electoral reform and entrenched the electoral system less than a year before. Mapai failed in its attempts to recruit support from various parties. Even promises to allocate positions on its list in future

54

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

elections did not convince potential allies to support the initiative. The hope that Herut, which promoted the use of referendums, would support the bill also failed because no middle ground could be found between the two parties: Mapai refused to consider any legislation that would give referendums a constitutional status (Arieli Horowitz, 1993). Herut refused to swallow the bait—the precedent-setting legislation and the use of a referendum—and joined forces with all the other parties to block this move (Bader, 1979). In fact, many reform supporters inside Mapai expressed reservations about this initiative because of the use of a referendum. It seems that only Ben-Gurion’s support, combined with estimations that the bill had small chances of being adopted, successfully brought about partisan retroactive ratification of the bill. The GZ, on their part, submitted a bill that proposed holding a referendum that would decide between the existing system and their own version of reform. This time the GZ suggested that ninety MKs be elected proportionally from thirty three-member districts, along with an additional thirty from national lists. Thresholds for both tiers would be set: 20 percent of the votes in each district, and eligibility for seats from the national pool to be conditioned on winning at least four district seats and presenting candidates in at least ten districts. After failing to block the bills’ deliberation in the Knesset on the grounds that they were illegal bypasses of the entrenched article in the Basic Law: The Knesset, a Mapam MK submitted an amendment that would further protect the electoral system from future attempts to reform it. A majority supported this amendment in the preliminary reading, while only Mapai and GZ supported their own bills. The move for reform failed, while the move toward further protection of the electoral system continued. The Knesset adopted, in the face of Mapai’s protests, an amendment that clearly determined that any change to the single nationwide district PR system would require the support of an absolute majority of MKs in all stages of legislation.7 The promoters and supporters of this move—including former and principled opponents to any protected legislation—justified its adoption as a lesson derived from Mapai’s attempt to bypass the existing law. The provisional system that was adopted in 1948 incrementally accumulated a preferred status over its potential and actual alternatives. It gained this status not only because a decision was delayed (as it looked at the beginning) but also because an active decision on the issue took place once the adversarial politics of reform, a clear-cut struggle, had already developed. If the initiative for increasing the threshold in the second Knesset slowly met its demise through several battles, the fate of the initiatives that were raised in the third Knesset was determined in one critical blow. In the 1950s, reform initiatives did not succeed in penetrating the decision-makers’ agenda through the routine path described by Kingdon (1989): passing through filters in the wider public, the elites, and the parliament.

THE ELECTORAL SYSTEM, 1948–1969

55

Rather, they penetrated from above, initiated or at least strongly supported by the PM, Ben-Gurion, who managed to convince and force his party to support them. It seems that in partitocracy, this was the only viable way to penetrate the agenda. However, partitocracy in which the parties are exclusive actors in the arena of the politics of reform also placed obstacles in the way of reform. Ben-Gurion not only failed to recruit enough support for reform outside his party, but also, by presenting radical reform initiatives, he provoked responses that helped crystallize a multiparty, antireform coalition. By promoting radical rather than moderate proposals, Ben-Gurion provoked most parties, threatening their most valuable vested interest—their very survival. He also facilitated the opposite result, entrenching a system with almost the highest possible level of proportionality. The electoral system, which was adopted as a provisional mechanism, became the only protected element in Israeli constitutional legislation until the 1990s. Within a decade, the use of a single nationwide district was transformed from being a temporary necessity into a protected principal in the Basic Law: The Knesset (1958), as sacred as proportionality. Reformers in the first decade of statehood criticized the closed-list system, claiming that it encouraged the centralization of power in the party apparatus and decreased the responsiveness of representatives to their voters. But most times the issue was presented as inseparable from the call for decreasing district magnitude and proportionality. Only in the 1970s was this link somewhat weakened, when MKs drafted bills intended to focus on the problem of responsiveness through electoral reform, without changing proportionality in a significant way. THE DECLINE OF THE STATUS OF ELECTO RAL REFO RM IN THE 1960S

Two pro-reform parties, Mapai (together with its affiliated Arab lists) and the Liberal Party (established in 1961 as a union of the GZ and the Progressive Party), held a majority of seats in the fifth Knesset. It would have seemed that once again, as in 1951–1955, the main problem would be to formulate a reform proposal that the two parties could agree to. However, as things developed, both forces actually backed off from supporting reform, giving up their support in return for alliances with the parties on their left and right. As part of its deal with Achdut Ha’avodah, Mapai agreed to freeze its attempts to promote electoral reform for four years and promised that future electoral reform proposals would be formulated with the approval of its new ally. Although belonging to the largest party’s alliance made it a potential future beneficiary of reform, Achdut Ha’avodah continued to reject reform. It feared that supporting reform might decrease its influence inside the Alignment, preventing it from maintaining an effective threat of defection and facilitating its assimilation into Mapai (Rahat, 2001a).

56

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

Rafi, a party established by Ben-Gurion and other defectors from Mapai in 1964, continued to carry the banner of electoral reform. While Rafi demonstrated a strong commitment to electoral reform and was open to ideas of a compromise formula, it lacked the power needed to promote it (Yanai, 1982). Only in 1968, when it joined the newly established Labor Party (an amalgam of Mapai, Achdut Ha’avodah, and Rafi), did Rafi succeed in making a difference. Labor established a committee on electoral reform and readopted a pro-reform stand, this time proposing a two-tiered system similar to the GZ’s proposed reforms in the 1950s (Joseph, 1975). Only a minority of Rafi members (including Ben-Gurion), who refrained from joining Labor and established an independent party (Hareshima Hamamlachtit), continued to be faithful to the cause of adopting a SMD system. The status of electoral reform was no better in the right-wing camp. The GZ representatives refrained from initiating any serious reform moves in 1961–1969, due to the rejection of the Progressive Party, who were their allies in the Liberal Party in 1961–1965, and Herut, their allies in the Gahal alignment since 1965 (Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). No electoral reform bill was submitted between 1959 and 1968, and the single bill that was submitted in 1969 by an MK from a small faction that defected from Herut, the Free Center, was easily defeated. Reform proponents in both large alliances saw this initiative as premature, and preferred first to try promoting the cause of reform inside their parties’ alliances (Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). The establishment of party alliances in the 1960s pushed reform off the decision-makers’ agenda. The negative impact of intra-alliance coalition politics on reform promotion is even more apparent when considering that, in that period, the number of bills and legislation aimed at consolidating and reforming other aspects of the regime structure increased.8 However, from a systemic perspective, this could be seen as an acceptable price to pay because the creation of alliances had a similar influence to that expected from electoral reform—decreasing the number of parties in parliament.

THREE

The Politics of Electoral Reform, 1969–1977 The Failure to Promote Compromise

THE FIRST SECTION analyzes the failed attempts to promote agreed-on elec-

toral reform formulas during the terms of the seventh (1969–1973) and eighth (1973–1977) Knessets. The second section estimates the weight of each of the various obstacles in order to understand why these reform attempts failed. THE POLITICS OF ELECTO RAL REFO RM, 1969–1977

During the seventh and eighth Knessets, several MKs from various parties submitted private member bills that suggested amendments to the electoral law. Labor MKs submitted the most significant reform bills. These bills suggested the adoption of a two-tiered system, leaving important details—like those that would determine the system’s level of proportionality—for later deliberations. These bills passed preliminary readings in both Knessets, but were than buried in the Constitution, Law and Justice Committee (CLJC). Long-Term Developments Although Labor/Alignment remained the dominant party in the party system until 1977, it was evident that its stand was eroding, especially after 1973 elections. After 1969 elections, the Alignment held—together with its affiliated Arab lists—sixty seats in the Knesset. But this majority was prone to intra-alliance and interpartisan opposition to reform, so majority support for reform from within could not be translated into a successful reform move. 57

58

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

After the 1973 elections, the power of the Alignment as a whole eroded. The second largest list (Gahal) was closer in size to the largest list than ever before. Also, it was the first time that Labor was forced to function within the constraints of a minimal winning coalition, which made it more prone to the antireformist pressures of its coalition partners. The establishment of alliances—the Alignment on the left (fifty-six seats in 1969; fifty-one in 1973); and Gahal/Likud on the right (twenty-six seats in 1969; thirty-nine in 1973)—did not provide a good foundation for the joint promotion of a reform that would substantially raise the effective threshold. Although the alliances proved sustainable, the smaller or more extreme partners, who feared that they would lose bargaining power inside the new parties and alliances, maintained their rejection of reform. Moreover, the fear that electoral reform (even a modest one) might result in manufacturing an absolute majority for the Alignment was not quelled—in fact, this fear began to look real when the Alignment was only ten seats short from an absolute majority in the Knesset even after the Yom Kippur fiasco. If short cabinet duration is an indication of Government instability and “proof” of the need for reform, then this proof was absent in 1965–1973.1 If not for the death of PM Levi Eshkol, this period would have been the first to enjoy two Governments serving full four-year terms. After 1973, the situation changed. Golda Meir’s Government resigned after one month, while Yitzhak Rabin’s Government, which was based on a shaky minimal winning coalition, barely survived two and a half years. However, at the same time that government instability could be used as a proof of the need for reform, reformist forces became more prone to the pressures of reform opponents from the smaller parties. The most constructive development in terms of reform promotion was the dramatic change in the assessment of the polity after 1973. While most of the problems identified after 1973 could have been recognized years before, only the trauma of the Yom Kippur War made them obvious and dramatically magnified their negative nature (Eisenstadt, 1985; Galnoor, 1982, 1999). Both the public and the elites adopted this negative assessment (Barzilai, 1992; Goldberg, 1999b; Hattis-Rolef, 1999; Sheffer, 1999a).2 Opinion polls did not yet play a significant political role, as evident by their absence from politicians’ speeches and their marginal place in the newspapers. Nevertheless, the public sent messages of dissatisfaction to the elite in the 1970s. These messages were first delivered through two waves of public protest: social protest at the beginning of the 1970s and antigovernment protest after the Yom Kippur War. They were later sent through voting behavior: although the 1973 elections resulted in Labor Government, there was a clear increase in support for the opposition. Yet, while the political system was shocked, the dominant party system survived and protest eroded over time. Moreover, because the ruling Labor MKs were the major movers of reform, they were

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

59

constrained in their ability to mobilize protest and focus it on the demand for reform. Still, the arena was different from that of the 1950s, as evident from the support and initiation of reform by a larger variety of forces, including small parties and authentic extraparliamentary groups. The period 1969–1977 saw the development of a more independent Knesset. The number of private member bills that were submitted increased, and in the eighth Knesset they composed, for the first time, half of all submitted bills. In the eighth Knesset, there was also a significant increase in the share of private member bills in terms of all legislation (23.6 percent compared to 12 percent and less in former Knessets). In comparison to future Knessets, however—for example, the twelfth Knesset which passed the direct election of the PM law—the share of private legislation was still relatively low.3 This was only the beginning of a process in which the Knesset was becoming more independent from the Government and the parties and more exposed to extraparliamentary and extrapartisan pressures. The accumulated experience with the functioning of the system up to the 1970s was ambiguous. On the one hand, factionalism seemed to decrease, as the tendency for creating large alliances continued. In addition, no precedent existed for reform that could serve to prove success or calm the fears of the vested interests. On the other hand, the negative assessments of governmental functioning in the Yom Kippur War made the perceptions of past experiences more negative. Catalyzing Events Two events that are part of the electoral cycle were prominent in the politics of electoral reform of the period. The first was coalition formation after the 1973 elections. Coalition bargaining took place when IDF forces were still at the front, and when antigovernmental protest was at its peak. The struggle over government posts was used as fuel for protest as a whole and for the demand for reform in particular. The second event occurred on the eve of the 1977 elections. The demise of the government coalition at the end of 1976 and the determination of early elections created a window of opportunity for reform promotion at a time when coalition pressures became irrelevant to maintaining the government coalition.4 Certain (unplanned) events before 1973 could have served as catalysts for reform, such as a wave of social protest and the exposure of political corruption. While reformists referred to these events as evidence for the need for reform, they were far from being exploited. The optimistic atmosphere of the post-1967 war period made such mobilization hard; the major proponents of reform, Labor partisans, had no interest in magnifying those events. In 1974, reform supporters tried to channel the authentic, grassroots wave of protest, aimed at “the system,” toward the demand for electoral

60

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

reform. They tried to focus the vague demand for “change” on a more explicit demand for electoral reform, by presenting it as a tool for giving the public more influence over its elected representatives. The impact of channeling protest in favor of reform was evident. First, unlike its predecessors, the eighth Knesset dealt with the reform bills at the start of its term. Second, most MKs refrained from voting against reform proposals, even those they clearly rejected, like the bill that suggested the adoption of a SMD system. Third, when protest faded, the legislation process that had started full speed now froze. While the Yom Kippur War crisis supplied much fuel for reform initiatives, electoral reform was only one alternative route. Some protesters concentrated their efforts on creating an alternative to the forty years of Mapai/Labor dominance; others pressured for intraparty democratization, especially in candidate selection (Gutmann, 1979). The guardians of the status quo could thus block reform at the national level, while still letting reform pressures materialize at local and partisan levels. The Democratic Movement for Change (DMC)—a party established before the 1977 elections—reawakened reform pressures in the relatively comfortable setting of election eve. Exposures of corruption, especially in Labor, allowed the DMC to present itself as a clean-hands party. It offered electoral reform as a major tool to counter corruption through establishing the accountability of the rulers to the ruled. The DMC’s success in drawing the attention of the mass media indeed motivated Labor and Likud to try to promote electoral reform, to demonstrate their reformist spirits. Events with the potential to catalyze electoral reform were not absent in the 1970s. What was missing—especially at the beginning of the 1970s—was the force that could exploit events and make them effective catalysts. This resulted from the fact that the major proponents of reform were from the ruling Labor Party, which was the focal point of most of the protest. Other reformist forces, parties and extraparliamentary groups, who arose more than ever after 1973, demonstrated neither the necessary skills nor the ability to exploit events to produce long-term pressure. The most prominent example is the DMC. Although it succeeded in exploiting events to make its reformists case, it was too short-lived to be able to lead a significant reform movement. The Actors Changes in the distribution patterns of political power were evident in the 1970s.5 Power, previously concentrated in the hands of party elites, was dispersed to additional forces and new elites. Sheffer (1999ab) described this development as a transformation from consociationalism to neocorporatism; Medding (1990, 1999) saw it as a transformation of the political system from majoritarianism to consensualism.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

61

The Knesset. In the seventh Knesset, and even more so in the eighth, private legislation increased, along with a few breaches of party discipline in the voting on electoral reform. Partisanship was still the dominant determinant of MKs’ behavior, however, both in the plenum and in the committees. Several times, reform legislation was delayed by procedural maneuvers, backed up by intra-alliance (especially in the seventh Knesset) and interpartisan (especially in the eighth Knesset) coalition pressures. Government. The Government had a marginal role in the politics of reform, mainly because there was no parallel between the composition of the governing coalition and that of the pro-reform coalition. The Government’s work plans ignored the issue altogether, while coalition agreements allowed each coalition party freedom of vote on the issue. When the programs of new Governments were presented and discussed in the Knesset plenum, only a few individual MKs addressed the issue of reform. The Judiciary System. The Supreme Court was invited to give its opinion of the struggle over the change of the remainders allocation formula, but played no active role in the politics of electoral reform. Yet the influence of a Supreme Court verdict from 1969 (HCJ 98/69), which, for the first time in Israel’s history, repealed legislation, was evident. This verdict determined that party finance legislation contradicted the principal of equality that appeared in a protected article of the Basic Law: The Knesset—the article that listed the basic principals of the electoral system. Thus, the Supreme Court claimed that an absolute majority was needed to legislate this law. This verdict was seen as a widening interpretation of the principals that appear in the Basic Law and made the Knesset believe that any change of the electoral system would require the support of an absolute majority. As a result, all reform bills that failed to achieve the support of an absolute majority were considered as if they had not passed the preliminary reading. These included reform bills that did not threaten PR at all, and bills that would have reduced proportionality only moderately—in short, bills that could be easily interpreted as safeguarding the principal of nationwide proportionality (Diskin, 1988). In addition, the Knesset interpreted the law in a restrictive way, perceiving it as requiring an absolute majority in the preliminary reading, which contradicted the understanding reached in the CLJC when the law was amended in 1959. Parties. While parties lost their almost exclusive status in politics (Galnoor 1982; Medding, 1990), and became less cohesive forces (Gutmann, 1979), they were still the dominant actors in politics as a whole and in the politics of electoral reform in particular. The alliances—intrapartisan (Labor) and interpartisan (Gahal/Likud, the Alignment)—were subarenas of coalition

62

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

politics. On the one hand, intraparty, and especially intra-alliance, disagreements encouraged the leaders to push reform aside and delay its promotion for the sake of preserving internal peace and cohesion. On the other hand, the intraparty and intra-alliance coalition structure provided incentives to some of the partners to keep the reform initiatives alive. Factions inside parties (Rafi in Labor) and parties in alliances (the Liberal Party in Gahal/Likud) used their support for reform to distinguish themselves from other allies, emphasizing their own unique identities and thus justifying their continuous functioning as separate and autonomous entities. The Labor Party was established in 1968 on the basis of a unification of three parties: Mapai; Achdut Ha’avodah, and Rafi. The founding agreement gave a substantial amount of autonomy to each founding party, creating “institutionalized factionalism” (Goldberg, 1992). Each faction brought its own views about reform into the struggle over power, influence, and policy in the new party: Rafi championed reform; Mapai supported it, but without much vigor; most Achdut Ha’avodah members opposed reform. The central committee of Labor decided to include support for electoral reform in its 1969 election platform, and succeeded in formulating a consensual, vague proposal for a two-tiered system. Yet, as evident from the behavior of Labor in 1969–1973—which was characterized by delays (such as establishing an additional intraparty committee to address the issue of reform) and nondecisions—intraparty opposition to reform remained an obstacle to reform promotion. After 1973, internal opposition to reform decreased both because former partisan affiliations blurred and because the two candidates for party chairman and PM, Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres, both supported reform. In both Knessets, Labor MKs submitted an ambivalent reform bill that combined different intraparty stands, which ranged from adherence to SMD to support for high proportionality (Goldberg, 1992; Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). In the seventh Knesset, when Labor still enjoyed a high number of seats and less dependence on coalition partners, internal pressures made it indecisive in its reform policy. When these internal pressures receded in the eighth Knesset, Labor had fewer seats and was more prone to other parties’ coalition pressures. Mapam, Labor’s smaller partner in the Alignment, maintained its traditional harsh rejection of reform.6 By resisting reform, Mapam, as a minor, leftist partner in the Alignment, secured its existence as an independent party. It expressed this resistance through coalition pressures, including threats to leave the Alignment. In addition, the procedural maneuvers of its representative in the CLJC contributed to the blockade of the reform move in the eighth Knesset. In Gahal—the bipartisan Herut-Liberal Party alliance established in 1965—and in the Likud—an alliance established in 1973 that included two additional minor parties—intra-alliance disagreements influenced reform policy in the same way that they did inside the Alignment. The Liberal Party

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

63

tried to promote their electoral reform formula, based on the GZ proposal for adopting a two-tiered system, while Herut kept resisting reform until 1977. In 1969–1973, this issue was very salient, and the temporary cooperation between the Liberal Party and Labor in promoting reform created a crisis between the Liberal Party and Herut.7 After 1973, Herut’s rejection of reform began to weaken. Some senior figures in Herut expressed support, and there were signs that its leader’s rejection was beginning to erode (Bader, 1979). While Herut amended its official stand against reform only on the eve of the 1977 elections, it did not put much pressure on its partners in the Likud to refrain from supporting Labor’s reform initiative. The other three partners in the Likud—the Liberal Party, Hareshima Hamamlachtit, and Hamerkaz Hachofshi (the Free Center)—supported reform, and representatives of the two small parties even submitted their own reform bills. The La’am Faction—which originated in the small Hareshima Hamamlachtit party, the remains of Rafi who refrained from joining Labor in 1968 and joined the Likud in 1973—suggested adopting a SMD system. The second small partner, Hamerkaz Hachofshi—a faction centered around Begin’s rival Shmuel Tamir, an old-time reformer, who left Herut in 1966— submitted its own reform proposal (Bader, 1979; Margalit, 1974; Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). All the small and extremist parties—the ultraorthodox parties, Maki, Rakah, and even the otherwise reformist Haolam Hazeh—maintained their harsh opposition to reform, perceiving any proposed change as a threat to their very survival. However, the struggle was not as adversarial as in the 1950s. While most of the relatively moderate small parties opposed Labor’s reform proposals, they demonstrated sympathy, even active support, for reform. The NRP (National Religious Party) MKs rejected reform, voted against it, and contributed to its delay in the CLJC. Yet, NRP senior figures called for electoral reform in its moderate formulas, and the 1969 party platform, while supporting PR, expressed a positive attitude toward a less partycentered system. Although the Independent Liberal Party—largely a legacy of the Progressive Party, which was established in 1965 after the GZ faction in the Liberal Party decided to establish the Gahal alliance with Herut— rejected Labor’s reform proposal in the seventh Knesset, it expressed support for a reform that would entrench personal elements in the electoral system while preserving its high level of proportionality. In the eighth Knesset, the Independent Liberal Party became an active promoter of this version of reform, and one of its MKs submitted a bill based on the same principals that the Progressive Party had held in the 1950s, but had refrained from advocating in the face of the adversarial struggle against Ben-Gurion’s initiative to adopt a SMD system (Barkai, 1971; Sha’ari, 1960). The behavior of the Civil Rights Movement (Ratz)—which was established in 1973—was quite similar

64

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

to that of the Independent Liberal Party. It submitted its own reform proposal, which focused on changing the fixed-list system while preserving high proportionality. However, at the same time that Ratz actively promoted its own version of reform, its moves in the deliberations of the CLJC on Labor’s reform proposals, aimed at ensuring proportionality, contributed to the blocking of reform. In comparison to the adversarial struggle of the1950s, these partisan stands were more flexible and gave more leverage to reformists. However, reformers failed to transform expressions of support or sympathy for the cause of electoral reform into support for a specific version of reform. The DMC and Shlomzion were established after the 1973 elections and were not represented in the eighth Knesset. Both parties held pro-reform positions and emphasized them as a way to distinguish themselves from the evidently impotent pro-reform forces in the Knesset. Their pro-reform stance influenced the behavior of the more veteran parties when the 1977 elections, in which they were going to participate, drew closer. The DMC—an amalgam of the Shinui party that was established in 1974, former Labor and Likud MKs and activists, and additional public figures—and especially its leader Yigael Yadin, a long-time champion of electoral reform, made reform one of its major banners (Shira, 1977; Urieli & Barzilay, 1982). DMC emphasized its reformist stance because it seemed to be the only issue in which the party— composed of people and groups who held opposing positions on the major social, economic, and foreign affairs issues—could demonstrate a coherent stance. The DMC seemed mainly a threat to Labor, and thus encouraged Labor to promote reform on the eve of the 1977 elections. Shlomtzion—headed by Ariel Sharon, a former Likud MK—also called for electoral reform (Neuberger, 1991). It seems that that the popular proreformist stands of Shlomzion and the DMC—which mainly challenged Labor but were, nevertheless, also seen as a threat to the right’s continuous attempts to oust Labor—pushed Herut into finally adopting an official proreform party stance in 1977. Interest Groups. Interest groups became more independent and somewhat more influential in the politics of the 1970s.8 The several independent groups that tried to promote electoral reform at the beginning of the 1970s did not have any significant impact (Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). The influence of pressure groups on the politics of reform was apparent in 1974, but was limited to a short time frame of the first few months of that year. The call for reform became part of the protest against the failure of the government and the “system” to cope with the surprise Arab attack that started the 1973 War. The Knesset’s response to the protest became apparent when it dealt with the four reform bills that were submitted without delay, and when most reform opponents refrained from rejecting the reform proposals in the preliminary reading.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

65

The attempt to mobilize the protest against the Government that followed the Yom Kippur War (1973) to focus on promoting electoral reform was championed by a new group, “The Movement for Personal and Regional Elections in Israel.” This group included many prominent public figures, with various partisan (and even some nonpartisan) affiliations and reform proposals (Gonen, 1974; Herzog, 1974; Kislev 1974; Margalit, 1974; Tadmor, 1974). Although this group continued to be active after the protests diminished— once protesters achieved their major aim, the resignations of the PM and the Minister of Defense—its influence seems to have vanished. Only the activities of the newly established parties revived the atmosphere of protest and renewed interest in the demand for electoral reform. These developments testify that in the still predominantly partisan arena of the politics of electoral reform, interests groups had only a limited impact on reform promotion. In retrospect, these were only the first signals that indicated a future in which the arena of the politics of reform would be more diverse, and the ground more fertile for reform. Experts. While knowledge about electoral systems in the 1950s was based mainly on the educational experience of individual MKs, the 1960s and the 1970s saw an increase of Hebrew publications on the issue. Numerous articles and books that addressed the reform issue appeared.9 While most publications were polemic, they were based on academic research and discourse. Both sides of the debate referred to these publications in Knesset deliberations, especially during the struggle over replacing the remainders allocation formula. Experts also held advisory roles inside parties and their analyses appeared in daily newspapers. However, expert opinion has had marginal impact on the politics of electoral reform. The mobilization of experts against the initiative of the two large alliances to change the remainders allocation formula, while legitimizing the smaller party grievances, was not nearly enough to block the two alliances’ successfully coordinated move. Mass Media. The end of the 1960s and beginning of the 1970s, and especially the post–Yom Kippur War era, saw the development of a more independent and nonpartisan mass media (Caspi & Limor, 1986; Medding, 1990). Although the mass media usually served as an open forum for the reform debate, it did sometimes contribute to the cause of reform through its news coverage. Media exposure of the post–Yom Kippur War protests in 1974, as well as columns that referred to the protesters’ demands and coverage of the DMC campaign in 1976–1977, facilitated the penetration of electoral reform into the political agenda.10 The media was particularly involved in the debate over the replacement of the remainders allocation formula. Most publications backed the losing side of the smaller parties, indicating their limited influence vis-à-vis the political parties.

66

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

The Public and Public Opinion. Like other extragovernmental forces, public opinion became more important in the politics of the 1970s, especially after the 1973 War (Galnoor, 1982; Sheffer, 1999a). Three developments made the public more willing to support the cause of reform: growing political alienation, an increase in the need for political expression, and a decrease in the sense of influence on government institutions (Wolfsfeld, 1988). Indeed, public opinion polls at that time indicated support for electoral reform, and, after 1973, more than 50 percent expressed backing for it.11 These changes in public opinion concerning reform, together with the actions of various pressure groups, pushed several small parties to demonstrate flexible stances on the issue, and even active support. They also influenced Herut, which attempted to revamp its image through changing its position on the issue. Yet, except for short periods—the first months of 1974, immediately after the Yom Kippur War, and several months before the 1977 elections— these developing tendencies were far from being efficiently exploited for promoting reform.12 As evident from the analysis of the politics of government system reform in the 1990s (chapters six–seven), such limited role of public opinion in the politics of reform is not a necessary development. While most people are passive, most of the time, their one-time activities and their (passive) expression of stands in opinion polls can be effectively exploited by those interested in reform, who can claim them to be the “tribunals” of the people. The Stages of Promoting Reform Reform initiatives passed the first stages of initiative and recognition in the seventh and eighth Knessets. The submission of reform proposals as bills signified their penetration into the decision-makers’ agenda: one bill, submitted by Labor MKs, passed the preliminary reading in both Knessets. This indicated movement to the second stage, that of initial approval. Both bills failed to pass that stage and were buried in the CLJC before their submission for a first reading. The Seventh Knesset. More than seventy MKs could be counted as supporters of reform in the seventh Knesset (Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). The fate of reform was largely dependent on the behavior of two large parties, Labor and the Liberal Party. Because of intraparty and intra-alliance rejections of reform, as well as those of small independent parties, neither large party demonstrated much passion for promoting reform. Delays occurred time and time again when these parties repeatedly established special committees or claimed to be waiting for the decisions of party institutions. In short, while certain individuals from these parties had the passion for reform, the parties as a whole, in their attempts to sustain internal peace, demonstrated far less enthusiasm (Bloch, 1970; Kislev, 1971a,b; Yaacobi & Gera, 1975).

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

67

Only two and a half years after its election, the seventh Knesset deliberated and voted on the reform bills. It rejected the three reform bills submitted by MKs from small parties, but passed a private member bill submitted by Labor MKs with the support of sixty-one MKs. This bill was clearly a product of intrapartisan compromise, a vague proposal that determined only the main elements of reform and left major issues like the level of proportionality open for future negotiations. Two Labor MKs (former Achdut Ha’avodah members) refrained from supporting it, and only seven out of twelve Liberal Party MKs voted for it.13 Only the support of MKs from smaller parties supplied the necessary absolute majority (Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). After several delays, a majority in the CLJC supported submitting the bill for a first reading. At that time, though, the Liberal Party declared—after feeling the wrath from Herut for their corporation with Labor on the issue—that they would not support the bill until after the next elections. Without the Liberal Party, the bill had no chance of winning the necessary absolute majority, so Labor decided not to bring it to the plenum (Yaacobi & Gera, 1975). At the same time that this largely dispassionate attempt at reform took place, a far less extensive change of the electoral system—the replacement of the largest remainder formula with the Hagenbach-Bischoff procedure that was expected to reward the largest party lists—was successfully promoted through a joint effort of the Alignment and Gahal. The two alliances faced much wider intra and extraparliamentary opposition against this amendment than for the attempt to reform the electoral system, but nevertheless succeeded in passing it in less than six month after its passage in a preliminary reading (Bader, 1979; Beze, 1973; Kislev, 1972). Although this was a minor change compared to electoral reform, considering its passage in light of the failed attempt at electoral reform substantiates the claim that the fate of electoral reform in the 1970s was significantly influenced by the lack of intraalliance agreement. Although they rejected electoral reform, Mapam and Herut supported the bill that determined the replacement of the remainders allocation formula, and its passage did not threat intra-alliance relations. The legislation passed in the face of harsh rejection by the small parties (potential and actual coalition partners), fairly strong extraparliamentary pressure, and various procedural maneuvers. In contrast, electoral reform was not successfully promoted, despite extraparliamentary support and the support of some smaller parties. Significant differences in the patterns of support for and opposition to electoral reform and the replacement of the remainders allocation formula back the argument that partisan positions on electoral system change are not necessarily linear. Furthermore, they demonstrate that party stands cannot be automatically explained as stemming from their size and the level of proportionality that a given reform is expected to produce. While several parties demonstrated support or rejection vis-à-vis both initiatives as expected from

68

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

their size, a minority distinguished between the two proposed changes: Herut, which initiated and supported the replacement of the remainders allocation formula, rejected electoral reform. Two small, right-wing parties held opposing stands, advocating for the greater reform while rejecting the lesser change. These differences can be understood in terms of the expected impact of the changes in relation to the location of these parties on the ideological continuum. The change in the remainders allocation formula was expected to reward large parties, irrelevant of their ideological position, because this small change was not anticipated to create centripetal pressures. Thus, size was the genuine motivation for formulating partisan stands. In the case of electoral reform, however, location became an issue— small but centrist parties would support it due to the centripetal pressures it would produce; larger but more extremist parties would be expected to reject it. An additional explanation (especially relevant in terms of the support of the small Hareshima Hamamlachtit for SMD and its rejection of the Hagenbach-Bischoff procedure) is that a reformist party may be ready to pay a higher price for a larger reformist cause—perhaps hoping that its identification with reform will give it enough credit to become a member of a large alliance—but not a smaller price for a minor change with no system-level consequences. The Eighth Knesset. Changes in the party composition of the Knesset did not influence the size of the pro-reform majority, which still stood at seventy MKs. This time, the reform bills were submitted at the beginning of the term and were carried on the wave of extraparliamentary protest and cries for change. Three reform bills submitted by MKs from small parties won the support of a plurality, but were later considered to be rejected due to the strict interpretation of the protection clause in the Basic Law: The Knesset.14 The bill submitted by Labor MKs won an absolute majority, and was passed on to the CLJC. When comparing the preliminary votes in the seventh and eighth Knessets, the impact of extraparliamentary pressures becomes apparent: the number of those rejecting the bills decreased in the eighth Knesset because many reform opponents chose to be absent and to wait for a better opportunity to block reform. Yet, the fact that the size of the supporting majority did not change confirms the limited impact of the extraparliamentary pressure, as it was unable to transform opponents into active supporters. This speedy start did not, however, lead this initiative to a better fate than its predecessor. Nevertheless, it was not silently buried in the CLJC, and much more effort was demanded from the reform opponents. The continuous maneuvers of a decisive, antireform minority that faced a fragmented and less decisive pro-reform majority enabled the blocking of the bill. A cohesive majority, it should be recalled, could overcome a decisive minority, as it did with the replacement of the remainders allocation formula in 1973.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

69

The bill suffered many delays, starting with a debate on the forum in which reform should be discussed—the CLJC or the Sub-Committee for Basic Laws. The two had similar compositions, and their only difference was that the chairman of the former was an opponent of reform while that of the latter was a proponent. In the three months in which this issue was debated, public protest quieted, and the window of opportunity that enabled the first speedy legislative move closed. When discussions started in the Sub-Committee for Basic Laws, it became apparent that reform proponents had a clear majority in the committee (eleven supporters vs. six opponents). Disagreements between them, though, which focused on whether the bill should already have details (a position held by the Liberal Party and most smaller parties) or whether they should be postponed until after the first reading (Labor position) prevented reform promotion. These disagreements were seemingly solved when Labor agreed to the Liberal Party demand that the future electoral system would not allow the creation of a manufactured majority. This agreement created new problems, however, when smaller parties started to fear that the two parties would act unilaterally and propose a reform that would serve their interests as large parties. This allowed reform opponents to divide the pro-reform majority by finding allies among the small proreform parties for their attempts to entrench various amendments and advocate alternative versions of reform (Benziman, 1974). In January 1975, the bill reached the CLJC, but, as a result of procedural maneuvers, coalition pressures, and attempts at dealing with disagreements among the parties outside the Knesset, discussions did not start until more than six months later. The role of the Sub-Committee for Basic Laws was to prepare a bill that would be ratified by the CLJC, and the fact they had similar compositions was supposed to help in achieving this. However, the debate reemerged in the CLJC, focusing on the same issues that had seemingly been resolved in the Sub-Committee for Basic Laws. The pro-reform majority was divided into three camps: Labor, which demanded the postponement of details; the small pro-reform parties, who demanded guarantees for high proportionality; and the Liberal Party, which demanded details that would include a substantive decrease in proportionality. While Labor might have preferred the position of the Liberal Party, responding to its demands would have put its governing coalition in jeopardy and might also have resulted in an intraparty conflict. The antireform opposition, which included the CLJC chairman, exploited these disagreements and reopened discussions on each article and subarticle of the bill, thus further delaying the process. Pressured by Yadin’s pro-reform stance in his preliminary campaign toward the establishment of the DMC, Labor and Likud began looking for a compromise version outside the Knesset, and the CLJC fruitless discussions were temporarily postponed. In March 1977, Labor and Likud (including Herut!) succeeded in agreeing on a version of reform. Their ambitions at the time were quite limited,

70

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

and they intended to pass the bill only in the first reading—so that after the next elections (scheduled to take place two months from then) they would be able to continue the legislation process (Ginossar, 1977). Labor and Likud jointly held more than two-thirds of the seats in the Knesset, as well as important key posts (Knesset speaker, chairman of the House Committee). Even so, the CLJC chairman, who opposed reform—with help from his replacements and a few active antireform MKs in the committee—succeeded in blocking the move, despite the fact that he was forced to convene the committee more often. The chairman allowed opponents of reform to submit endless amendments and procedural petitions, and to filibuster. The pattern that developed during the fifteen discussions that took place between March 15, 1977, and April 27, 1977, was that of increasing takeover by reform opponents. Attempts to speed up the process by those who hoped to promote reform weakened and their attendance at the CLJC gatherings decreased. At the end of April, the Likud announced the cessation of its efforts, in response to the absence of Labor MKs from the CLJC meetings. Characteristics of the Reform Proposals Reform proposals in the 1970s ranged from attempting to entrench personal elements and subnational districts, while preserving the high level of proportionality, to suggestions aimed especially at decreasing proportionality, which combined small districts with a national pool, to proposing the SMD option, which was championed by those who saw themselves as continuing BenGurion’s constitutional legacy. The middle-of-the-road proposals, championed by Labor and the Liberal Party, seemed to be a compromise. Yet the gap between the Liberal Part’s position on the level of proportionality on one side, and that of the smaller pro-reform parties on the other, could not be bridged. The Liberal Party, with its eroding image, disliked systems that would expose its members to the public (through the entrenchment of personal elements and districts); it preferred the existing nationwide, closed-list system. Only a substantial decrease in PR, which would give Likud as a whole a greater piece of the pie, could be seen as beneficial for the Liberal Party.15 For the small parties, decreased proportionality meant a threat to their very existence. While Labor had its own detailed version, its “solution” to the contradicting stands (which also existed in its own ranks) was the submission of an ambivalent proposal that could be developed later in both directions. Those who devised Labor’s ambiguous formula claimed that it would help promote reform because it would allow for the recruitment of support from all proponents of electoral reform, regardless of their different visions. This formula was multifaceted, purporting representation on both the national and district levels. However, its loose ends did not engender wide

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

71

support, but instead made potential supporters more suspicious. They insisted on dealing with the details at the beginning of the process to ensure that the initiative would not develop into something that would work against their interests. Reform opponents identified these differences and exploited them. They presented this ambiguity as a trap that Labor had set in order to later adopt a disproportional system that would serve its interests. They argued that those who would support this ambiguous proposal would be trapped, since withdrawal of support at a later stage would be harder to justify as it could be presented as proof of incoherence and “self-interest.” Thus, as was the case with the GZ proposal in 1958, ambiguity was found to be unconstructive. Constructive, multifaceted proposals must be detailed, allowing room for interpreting the political consequences of its mixed elements, rather than leaving open ends for later formulations. THE BARRIERS TO ELECTO RAL REFO RM

The Procedural Barrier The politics of electoral reform in the 1970s demonstrate that when the reform coalition is not cohesive and coordinated, procedure can be an important tool for blocking reform. The requirement of an absolute majority allowed parties to bargain effectively and press for the adoption of their own versions of reform without having to vote actively against reform bills. If a plurality (of only Labor MKs, e.g.) would have sufficed, reformers could have pressured parties that expressed support for reform to refrain from voting against Labor’s open-ended initiative. The important role of procedural maneuvers in delaying legislation until it was virtually buried was evident in the eighth Knesset. Opportunities for suggesting amendments were successfully used to divide the pro-reform majority. All the minor delays accumulated until both windows of opportunity—the one that opened during the wave of protest at the beginning of 1974 and the second one on the eve of the 1977 elections—were closed before being fully exploited by reformers. Although these maneuvers delayed the promotion of reform in the parliamentary arena, their impact should not be exaggerated. When Labor and Gahal did reach inter and intra-alliance agreement on changing the remainders allocation formula, neither procedural maneuvers nor a possible requirement for an absolute majority could block legislation. Procedural maneuvers succeeded in blocking reform because the parties that initiated and promoted reform were not decisive enough due to intra-alliance and interparty pressures. In short, procedures served as effective barriers in the short term, but cannot, in themselves, explain the failure of the reform promotion process as a whole.

72

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

Political Tradition Until the 1973 War, interpretations of how the system functioned were similar to those of the 1950s: supporters of reform claimed that the system that functioned well in a voluntary setting did not translate well to a sovereign state; opponents of reform claimed that the system proved itself in both periods and therefore should be preserved. The shock of the Yom Kippur War changed these perceptions dramatically. There was now the sense that a radical change was required, not the continuation of a system that failed in its response to an existential external threat. This development helped facilitate changes in parties’ perceptions by easing their commitment to previous stances. Some parties stopped their harsh opposition to any change in the electoral system; others became active initiators of alternative reform proposals. Systemic Rationale The adversarial debate over electoral reform that developed during the 1950s eased during the 1960s. Reform supporters made the first move, when most of them retreated from their support of a SMD system and suggested more moderate proposals. Reform opponents reacted more slowly, still fearing that even a slight change could result in a manufactured majority for the newly formed alliances of the workers parties. Opposition to reform significantly subsided after the 1973 War. Most reform proposals of the time were not only more moderate in terms of proportionality, but dealt directly with the unique elements of the system—the lack of subnational representation and, especially, the lack of any personal element, symbolic or real. The discourse concerning electoral reform became more pragmatic, concentrating on fine-tuning the relevant parts of the system rather than adopting a SMD system. Vested Interests A. Diskin (1979) argued that parties’ positions on reform in the 1970s did not reflect their real interests, but rather were fixations with irrelevant, past stands. However, Diskin’s analysis is based solely on the size of parties. Adding the element of location on the ideological continuum makes party’s positions seem more reasonable. The small, extreme parties continued to be harsh opponents of reform; small, but less extreme parties supported the preservation of a high level of proportionality, but were ready to accept some changes in the fixed list system and the possible use of subnational districts. Only the center parties showed support for a reduction of proportionality. This position is understandable since they, as partners in alliances and even as independent actors, could hope to benefit from the expected

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

73

centripetal pressures. It was also rational for them to adhere to the popular cry for “change” because it helped them create a distinct identity in a quite crowded center. Yet, parties, and especially alliances, were not unitary actors. There were forces inside pro-reform parties and alliances—parties, factions, and individuals—that had no interest in a reform that might expose them personally to the public or allow larger or less extreme allies to increase their share of the representation cake. These forces made their mark in blocking reform by distorting the coherence of their alliances and parties on the issue of electoral reform. Agreement on Content Although a clear majority in the seventh and eighth Knessets could be counted as belonging to the pro-reform coalition, no agreement existed about the content of this reform. This was evident in more than just the interparty arena. The ambiguous character of Labor’s bills also testified to the lack of intraparty agreement. Labor’s potential allies for reform promotion, the Liberal Party and the small pro-reform parties, had substantial disagreements. The smaller parties emphasized the entrenchment of the personal element with the preservation of high proportionality, while the Liberal Party demanded substantial reduction of proportionality. Both, however, saw the existing system as preferable over their rivals’ proposals. While ambiguity might have quelled conflicts inside Labor, it did not satisfy other parties. Labor was not only stuck in the middle, but the disagreements within the party were similar to those between the Liberal Party and the small proreform parties. Any move to one side or the other threatened its own internal cohesion.16 Coalition Politics Coalition politics was the major barrier to the promotion of reform in the 1970s. It occurred at two levels: the intraparty and intra-alliance level and the interalliance and interparty level. On the first level, coalition politics was prominent as a barrier to reform in the seventh Knesset. Labor’s indecisive behavior under Achdut Ha’avodah and Mapam pressures, along with the Liberal Party’s unstable policy (especially after Labor finally seemed to settle some internal differences) that was influenced by Herut’s pressures, precluded the promotion of reform beyond the preliminary reading. In the eighth Knesset, intraparty and intra-alliance pressures quieted. Yet interparty pressures became much more effective when Labor headed a minimal winning coalition, which made it more prone to pressures—especially when rivals from the right seemed, for the first time, to be a realistic threat to its dominance and especially its pivotal position.

74

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

Electoral reform initiatives were raised and promoted in the two Knessets under very different political atmospheres. The euphoria from the 1967 victory was replaced with a feeling of deep crisis after the 1973 War. Although there were important differences between the political environments in which the two initiatives were promoted (and in positions and behaviors toward reform), both initiatives were blocked at the same point. In comparison to the 1950s (Rahat, 2001a), conditions for promoting reform in the 1970s were generally better. Reformists, while still far from reaching their goal, succeeded this time in passing the first stage of the reform process. Most developments in the framework of analysis made promoting reform somewhat easier. Most long-term developments made the ground more fertile (but still far from optimal) for it. Labor’s dominant stance weakened while the crystallization of the right-wing forces made them look more and more—especially after 1973—like a possible governing alternative. Yet, beyond the crystallization of large parties and alliances, there were still many parties and factions that due to their size or location inside the party or the alliance had no interest in electoral reform. The political system suffered from problems in functioning and, after the 1973 War, these weaknesses were exposed to the public. Citizens’ evaluations of the functioning of the system became more and more negative and, at the same time, the elites demonstrated greater readiness for reform. The Knesset also became a little more independent from the executive. The 1970s saw an increase in responsiveness toward the demands and pressures that came from outside the party system. The resignation of PM Golda Meir and Security Minister Moshe Dayan signified, first and foremost, a response to the demands of protest groups that were supported by public opinion. Response to the demand for entrenching a personal element in politics was also shown, but was limited to the local and intraparty levels.17 These moves, however, helped block electoral reform because by signifying responsiveness to the cries for change and reform they served as substitutions for it. Retrospectively, those developments that made reform promotion easier were still far from supplying it with optimal conditions. The political arena of the 1970s included extraparliamentary actors and new parties, and at certain times their impact in promoting reform was evident. But while the role of extraparliamentary actors increased in comparison to the 1950s, most of the time it was secondary, if not marginal. In addition, long-term developments and events that could be used to promote the cause of reform were far from being optimally exploited. The exploitation of events was prominent a few months after the 1973 War, and again on the eve of the 1977 elections, but it was not sufficient to promote reform beyond the preliminary reading. In

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1969–1977

75

contrast, in the case of government system reform in the 1990s, two similar windows of opportunity were sufficient for a complete legislative move. The prominent reform proposals had much less potential for creating an adversarial debate than former initiatives. However, the attempt to propose an ambiguous bill was not constructive to promoting reform because it raised the fears of potential supporters that the system that would eventually be adopted would be worse for them than the existing system. If political tradition was a barrier to reform until 1973, after the 1973 War, differences in the perception of experience served the call for change, exposing hidden problems and magnifying them. Barriers to reform on both the system and party levels weakened in comparison to the 1950s: a less adversarial discourse allowed for wide agreement on the need for reform; parallel to the changes in the balance of power between parties, support for reform had grown. The importance of the procedural barrier, and its limits, were also exposed. While the replacement of the remainders allocation formula demonstrated that changes can be passed quickly at times, it was evident that its passage required both the creation of an agreed compromised version of reform and a determined resistance to coalition pressures. These two last barriers are at the center of the explanation for the failure of the attempts at reform in the 1970s.

This page intentionally left blank.

FOUR

The Politics of Electoral Reform, 1984–1990 From (Knesset) Electoral Reform to Government System Reform

THIS CHAPTER BEGINS with a brief analysis of the decline in the status of

electoral reform during the ninth and tenth Knessets (1977–1984). Then, it presents a detailed analysis of the politics of electoral reform in 1984–1990, the period of Likud-Labor unity Governments. Better conditions for the promotion of reform, successful exploitation of various long-term developments and catalyzing events, and the concentration of efforts to promote modest proposals allowed the electoral reform bill to progress further than ever before. The reform bill passed its preliminary and first readings in the eleventh Knesset (1984–1988), and the continuation of legislation was ratified in the twelfth Knesset (1988–1992). The reform bill was nevertheless buried in the CLJC because most reformers preferred to neglect it and focus instead on the promotion of Government system reform. THE POLITICS OF ELECTO RAL REFO RM, 1977–1984

The DMC succeeded in putting electoral reform on the agenda of the 1977 election campaign. In the ninth Knesset (1977–1981) there were about ninety MKs whose party platforms expressed support for reform.1 Yet, after the contest was over, the dramatic replacement of Labor by Likud as the major governing party meant decreased pressure for reform because one of its major justifications—to refresh the deteriorating dominant party system—lost its relevance. Furthermore, the dramatic victory of Likud enabled it to establish 77

78

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

a government without the support of the DMC, making it less susceptible to the DMC’s demands for reform. The call for electoral reform did not immediately fade away, but rather waned incrementally during the term of the ninth Knesset. It did manage to penetrate the decision-makers’ agenda when the Government coalition established a committee with the declared aim of formulating an agreed-on reform proposal. After the DMC joined the governing coalition, the coalition even stated that the next Knesset would be elected by a new system that would include subnational districts and a personal element. Yet, as often happens in politics, the committee proved to be a tool for the erosion of reform rather than its promotion.2 While the committee failed in its mission to formulate a concurrent version of reform, its very existence was used to restrain the coalition parties—obligating them to await its conclusions and reject private member bills that called for electoral reform. The fractionalization of the DMC decreased its ability and motivation to promote reform. Labor took care to attack DMC and Likud for abandoning their commitment to it. However, when a Likud-supported bill that proposed to increase the threshold to 2.5 percent was submitted on the eve of the 1981 elections, it was the Alignment (Labor) that blocked its passage to protect its future potential coalition partners. Coalition politics continued to constitute the main barrier to reform. A clear sign of the decreasing status of electoral reform in 1981 was the disappearance of any commitment to electoral reform in the Likud platform for the tenth Knesset elections—a commitment that was made for the first time in their 1977 election platform. The elections of 1981 created several political conditions that could have been constructive for reform: Labor and Likud held equal power, so reform could be expected to reward both; their combined share of votes and seats was higher than ever before, so even a modest reform could lead to a one-party majority (Brichta, 1982a); most MKs supported reform; some extraparliamentary activity aimed at promoting electoral reform was going on;3 and individual politicians made efforts to formulate an agreed-on version of reform. Nevertheless, the status of electoral reform declined further. The coalition agreement entrenched a mechanism for mutual veto on reform for each coalition partner when the submission of any reform bill (Governmental or private) was conditioned with anonymous support (see Galnoor & Hofnung, 1993, p. 994). Furthermore, in the tenth Knesset, the Alignment-led opposition refrained from submitting any reform bill. Both large parties preferred not to create resentment on the side of their actual (in the Likud case) or potential (in the Alignment case) coalition allies, especially the pivotal religious parties. The main issues that topped the agenda at the time—the Lebanon War and the economic crisis—became parts of interparty adversary politics and were not exploited to serve as “proof” of the need for reform.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

79

THE POLITICS OF ELECTO RAL REFO RM, 1984–1990

The three prominent reform proposals of the 1984–1990 period suggested adopting a two-tiered system. They differed in their proposed district magnitudes, in the numbers of those elected from districts and those from the national pool, and, most important, in their anticipated levels of proportionality, which resulted mainly from the proposed character of the national pool (compensatory or parallel). The first prominent proposal appeared in a private member bill that passed its preliminary reading in 1986 and also appeared as one of the two versions of reform that passed a first reading in 1988. It suggested that eighty MKs would be elected in twenty four-member districts, with the additional forty elected from a parallel national pool. The second prominent proposal originated in an extraparliamentary group, the CFI (Constitution for Israel, 1987, Articles 51–53), and passed as one of the two versions of reform in a first reading in 1988. It suggested adopting a mixed member system: sixty MKs would be elected in SMDs and sixty out of a national compensatory pool, with the national legal threshold set at 2.5 percent. The third version was formulated by a Labor-Likud biparty committee in 1989. It suggested that sixty MKs would be elected in twenty threemember districts and sixty from a compensatory national pool, with the national legal threshold set at 3.34 percent. The first proposal was expected to create a substantial decrease in PR, and the latter two only a modest one. All three suggested adopting subnational districts. Only the third clearly advanced the adoption of a personal element, in that candidates from the three-member districts would be elected personally, according to their number of votes. Long-Term Developments The 1984 elections signified the consolidation of the bipolar party system, which consisted of two large party alliances (Alignment and Likud) and small satellite parties to the left of the Alignment or the right of the Likud. Although several parties attempted to locate themselves at the pivotal position, only the ultraorthodox managed to represent themselves, for a long time, as open to taking part in either Likud- or Labor-led coalitions. They did so by stressing that, unlike other parties, their major interest was in issues of religion and state rather than foreign policy and security (Neuberger, 1991). After the 1984 elections, the ultraorthodox parties shared the pivotal position with two centrist, nonreligious parties (Yachad and Ometz). Yet, in the following years, they both assimilated into the two large party alliances, and the pivotal position fell exclusively into the hands of the ultraorthodox parties. After the 1988 elections, the ultraorthodox parties exclusively captured the pivotal position, being the only parties considered as potential partners to both Likud and Labor governing coalitions (Peres, 1989).4

80

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

The consolidation of the bipolar system created a new kind of balance between anti and pro-reform pressures. The two large parties, who were partners in the unity Governments of 1984–1990, could adopt a substantial reform that would reward both and punish all other parties. At the same time, the influence of the ultraorthodox parties, who fiercely opposed reform, increased because both Likud and Labor saw them as necessary partners for their future coalition Governments (Gutmann, 1988).5 Several scholars (Diskin & Diskin, 1995; Doron & Kay, 1995) used the “prisoners’ dilemma” to describe the behaviors of the two large parties toward reform: the optimal solution was to cooperate in promoting electoral reform, but both preferred the suboptimal solution as they did not trust each other, each fearing that the other would be the first to defect from an attempt at reform in order to create a coalition partnership with the small pivotal parties. Others (Brichta & Zalmanovitch, 1983) suggested that both parties adopted a mini-max strategy, and thus preferred the existing system so as to avoid a situation in which their rival would lead a one-party Government. Although these analyses parsimoniously summarize the system of incentives for both large parties, they fail to capture three important factors. First, under these circumstances, electoral reform progressed more then ever, albeit in a series of battles rather than in a single game. In other words, there were points in time when other pressures (e.g., favorable public opinion on the eve of elections) balanced the pressures of the small pivotal parties. Second, while both “prisoners” were willing to sacrifice reform for the greater prize of leading a coalition, there were differences in the level of their willingness to promote reform. Generally, Labor was more willing to exploit opportunities for reform promotion than the Likud. Third, these explanations ignore the fact that parties were not unitary actors. Particularly in Likud, many MKs voted in support of reform even when they were instructed or advised to refrain from doing so. Thus, the setting suggested by the prisoners’ dilemma should be seen as reflecting the characteristics of the main obstacle for reform—coalition politics—rather than as an exclusive and sufficient explanation for the blocking of reform. The new bipolar party system created better conditions for reform than the former dominant party system. Earlier fears of a complete takeover by one party were eased due to the change in power distribution—the replacement of one large pivotal party with two large nonpivotal ones. Furthermore, the bipolar dynamics produced a permanent feeling of instability. Goldberg and Barzilai (1987) and Bogdanor (1993) claimed that the change in the party system exposed inherent weaknesses of the electoral system, formerly hidden due to the existence of a dominant party system. The establishment of the unity Government quelled the feelings of instability, but it was found to be only a temporary solution. Its appeal incrementally declined because both large parties—during their coalition partnership—continually tried to draw the small parties to their side and establish an alternative narrow coalition.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

81

Several scholars of Israeli politics argue that the political system suffered from a crisis in the 1980s. D. Horowitz and Lissak (1989) claim that a decrease in the capacities of conflict resolution mechanisms created an overburdened system. Galnoor (1996) claims that the declining functioning of parties as mediators between state and society substantially decreased the steering capacity of the government. Goldberg and Barzilai (1987) suggest that the crisis resulted from the accumulation of challenges that the state refrained from facing in the past, and saw the crisis as deep enough to justify the risks involved in adopting reforms. Opinion polls showed that the identification of a crisis was not exclusive to scholars. Levels of public political dissatisfaction were quite high beginning in 1974. In all but one opinion poll (taken immediately after the 1977 elections) more than half of the citizens interviewed (sometimes 80 percent) claimed that government dealt poorly or very poorly with the current situation (Wolfsfeld, 1993, p. 203). According to Barzilai (1992), the Yom Kippur War (1973) and the Lebanon War (1982) damaged public trust in the political system and shattered the consensus that formerly existed in Israeli society. An opinion poll that was conducted in 1986 found a negative correlation between levels of political knowledge and passion for political efficacy, on the one hand, and perception of political efficacy, on the other (Shapira & Susser, 1987). These findings were seen to be especially significant because in most countries the relationship between these variables is positive. Thus, it was interpreted that there was a strong feeling of frustration that explained other findings, such as massive support for reforms in the regime structure. Opinion polls that were conducted at the time reform was promoted, in 1987–1990, identified a decrease in public trust in political institutions.6 Thus, it seems that the public also identified the crisis that various scholars had pointed to, that it was unsatisfied with the functioning of government, and that it was thus ready to support reform initiatives. The independence of the Knesset and of individual legislatures increased during the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth Knessets. The number of private member bills submitted almost doubled in each of these terms; the rate of private member bills that were adopted increased and stood at 24.5 percent of all bills adopted in the eleventh Knesset and 40.7 percent in the twelfth Knesset—compared to 21 percent or less in former Knessets. Because the parties functioning as mediators between state and society had weakened, individual MKs tried to demonstrate greater responsiveness toward pressures that originated in civil society (Galnoor, 1996). The unity Government was also a significant institutional development. Although both large parties were still susceptible to antireform pressures from the small (especially pivotal) parties, the very existence of a framework for their cooperation could be seen as constructive for reform promotion. At the beginning, the unity Governments could have been regarded as a “solution”

82

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

to the “crisis” resulting from the parliamentary parity of the two large political camps and might have calmed the call for electoral reform (Yanai & Aronson, 1986). After the first two years—during which the IDF withdrew from most of the territories it captured in Lebanon and the Government adopted an economic program that stabilized the economy—they began to look like a recipe for disaster. Each side neutralized the other and blocked effective governance and decision-making, especially in regard to foreign affairs and security policies. Parallel to this, the governance culture eroded because the huge coalition needed to absorb a relatively large amount of spoils, and the tiny opposition, on its part, could not block the resulting misbehavior (Doron, 1996; Korn, 1994). Under these circumstances, the politicians and the public became more ready to support a reform that could solve the problems of governability and responsiveness. Accumulated experience contributed to the reformers’ cause. The positive perception almost across the board of the political consequences of adopting direct election of mayors was a precedent that was often used in favor of reform; the very success of its promotion, after repeated failures, validated the claim that the struggle might be worthwhile. The suggestion that a reform of the system, rather than a change in government composition, could be the solution for the malaise of the political system was even more convincing after Israel experienced Governments of various types and compositions: Mapai/Alignment-led (1949–1977) and Likud-led (1977–1984) Governments, along with unity Governments in which power was divided between the two large party alliances (1984–1990). However, experience did not supply only positive grounds for reform promotion. The failures of former reform initiatives did not lead reform opponents to be less cautious. Under the unity Government, the fear that the two large parties would unite against all of the other parties (strengthened by the memory of the 1973 change of the remainders allocation formula in a unilateral move of the two large party alliances) was kept alive. The burden of repeated failed attempts to promote electoral reform encouraged reformers to neglect electoral reform just as a different, untried path seemed to open—that of promoting government system reform. Catalyzing Events The passage of the electoral reform bill in a preliminary reading in 1986 was largely an intraparliamentary affair and no specific event was linked to it. The first reading, however, took place in a different context. As elections drew closer, antireform coalition pressures became less effective. At the same time, a pro-reform pressure group, the CFI, pressured the Knesset to support reform and demonstrate sensitivity to public opinion, which, according to polls, supported electoral reform. The CFI also focused some of its activities on members of the Likud and Labor central committees, the institutions that

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

83

would select candidates for the next Knesset. Yet, as elections neared, increased pressure from the religious parties—whose pivotal stand in coalition building was predicted—became effective once again. Likud MKs, with the PM’s backing, maneuvered to block reform from further progress. The results of the 1988 elections and the coalition bargaining that followed helped put reform back on the agenda. The religious parties exploited their exclusive stand as pivotal parties by increasing demands for religious legislation—especially for the amendment of the Law of Return, a move that would consolidate their monopoly over the determination of who would be considered a Jew in Israel. Several small parties, individual politicians, interest groups, and leaders of the Jewish American diaspora—many of whom belonged to the Conservative and Reform streams of Judaism—strongly resisted these demands. This resistance led to the reestablishment of a unity Government after fifty days, during which the religious parties maneuvered between the two large parties to see which one would agree to their increasing demands. Protests were not primarily aimed at promoting electoral reform, yet the reform initiative gained prominence because it was perceived as a possible solution to the situation wherein small pivotal parties hold disproportional power to “blackmail” the large parties, who represented the majority of Israeli citizens (Bader, 1988; Krivine, 1988a,b; Margalit, 1988). The short tenure of the unity Government (December 1988–March 1990) can be described as an ongoing coalition-building process. Both large parties tried to build a narrow coalition with the ultraorthodox pivotal parties instead of cooperating with each other. This helped the reformers claim that the Government was ineffective and allowed them to present reform as the solution. A central event that could have been used to promote electoral reform was the collapse of the unity Government in March 1990. The collapse of Yitzhak Shamir’s Government was followed by a three-month period of coalition bargaining. Parties and individual politicians made opportunistic attempts to exploit the competition between the two large parties for their coalition support, which provoked a massive public outcry. At the beginning of the March–June 1990 coalition crisis, government system reform became a prominent alternative route for reform, but reform pressures were not yet focused on it. There were still those who claimed that electoral reform should be adopted as a solution for the ongoing coalition horse-trading; those who saw governmental and electoral reform as two possible routes for reform; and those who unsuccessfully tried, after noting that pressure had been mobilized for government system reform, to rechannel it in the direction of electoral reform. However, as will be demonstrated in the next chapter, the protests in the wake of this event were mainly exploited to promote government system reform rather than electoral reform. Anticipated and unanticipated events were successfully exploited in the 1980s to put electoral reform on the agenda and to create effective pressures

84

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

on MKs to promote it. In comparison to their predecessors, the reformers of the 1980s—especially the CFI—demonstrated more skill in exploiting events and also enjoyed more favorable conditions for reform promotion. The Actors Compared to the past, the 1984–1990 era saw more dispersion of power in the political arena as a whole, and in the politics of reform in particular. Power was passed from parties to interest groups and, in a top-down manner, to smaller interest groups and individuals (Sheffer, 1999b). Parliament. The case of the initiative for electoral reform illustrates that the Knesset indeed became a more independent legislature. First, in response to the Government’s failure to promote reform, a group of MKs from various parties began to promote reform legislation. Second, breaches of party discipline in the voting on reform were extensive this time in comparison to the 1970s: Likud failed to impose party discipline on its MKs to vote against reform in the preliminary reading. In the first reading, although Likud was pressured to reject reform by its religious allies, it refrained from imposing discipline, probably fearing a repeated failure that would expose its incoherence. Third, individual MKs, who held key positions in the legislative process, played a prominent role in promoting reform legislation. The speaker of the Knesset (Labor) assumed a significant role when he decided (using legal ambivalence on the issue) to declare the passage of the bill in its preliminary reading, although it lacked the support of an absolute majority. He also contributed to promoting reform by selecting the right timing for the first reading. The chairs of the CLJC in both the eleventh and twelfth Knessets actively promoted the reform initiatives, although their party leadership (Likud) was interested in its demise. Only when pressure from the top was too strong to resist did the two change their behaviors and surrender. In short, while partisan and coalition pressures still played a central role in blocking reform, the space for individual maneuvering substantially increased. Government. Unlike former narrower Governments, the unity Governments did not play an exclusively negative role in terms of promoting reform. Although the Labor-Likud bipartisan committee that was established by the first unity Government (1984–1986) failed to formulate an agreed-on reform proposal, the bipartisan committee of 1989, which was established by the third unity Government (1988–1990), succeeded in agreeing on one. It was the demise of the unity Government that dealt the death blow to the electoral reform initiative. Shamir’s narrow Government (1990–1992) was trapped in a plethora of different obligations on the issue, which made inac-

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

85

tion the optimal strategy for dealing with it. In short, the unity Governments were more constructive, or at least not as destructive, for reform as narrower Governments that usually put up barriers to reform promotion.7 Head of State. President Chaim Herzog (1983–1993) was a former member of the pro-reform Rafi party, an active member of several pro-reform pressure groups, and, as an MK, one of the more prominent supporters of electoral reform in the Knesset. Like previous presidents, he was not active in partisan politics; unlike them, he chose to take an active part in the politics of electoral reform. He represented his support for reform as nonpartisan, reflecting the grievances and demands of many citizens. He acted quite reluctantly, limiting his actions to specific contexts, such as the election of a racist MK to the eleventh Knesset, the coalition negotiations after the 1988 elections, and the formal presentation of the conclusions of the1989 Bipartisan Committee. Herzog (1997) testified that his interest in electoral reform was at least as strong as his interest in government system reform. Yet, his statements on reform were vague enough to allow reformist politicians to exploit his nonpartisan popular legitimacy in terms of making the case for promoting both electoral reform and the direct election of the PM. Thus, like other extraparliamentary actors, the president played a role in promoting reform, but not in determining its content. The Judicial System. The Supreme Court was invited to take part in the politics of reform at an early stage. Several MKs petitioned against the decision of the speaker of the Knesset that a plurality was sufficient for the passage of the reform bill in the preliminary reading (HCJ 761/86). The Supreme Court delayed in dealing with the petition, claiming that it was submitted too early in the legislative process. In 1990, the Supreme Court did answer the question of the required majority when it dealt with a petition to cancel an amendment to the Party Finance Law. The court determined—in a two-toone decision—that the support of an absolute majority is indeed necessary for the passage of such an amendment in a preliminary reading (HCJ 142/89, 172/89). A majority in the Knesset, interested in revalidating the amendment on party finances, almost immediately amended the Basic Law: The Knesset, making an absolute majority necessary only on the first, second, and third readings. This legislation may have saved electoral reform in the legal sense; yet, since electoral reform legislation was frozen at the time, it had no bearing on its ultimate fate (Rubinstein & Medina, 1996). Political Parties. Fortunately, both readings on the electoral reform bill held roll call votes. This allows testing the hypothesis that the size of parties and their location influenced their attitudes and behavior toward electoral reform (Table 4.1). As expected, Labor, a large centrist party, supported reform.

Likud** Labor-Yachad Shinui Mapam Ratz ADP Hadash PLP Tzomet Hatehiya Kach NRP Morasha Shas Agudat Yisrael Tami Total

Large Parties Leftist Parties

Rightist Parties Religious Parties

Others 50

1

4

2

8 35

For

1 39

2 2 2

3

4 2

5

18

Against

31

2

4

1 1

1 1

16 5

Absent

Preliminary Reading

1 120

4 2 4 2

1 4 1

4 2

2 6 5

42 40

Total

69

1

5

2

24 37

For

33

2 2 4 2

3 1

1 3 2

6

7

Against

18

2

1

1

12 2

Absent

First Reading

* Based on roll call results, Eleventh Knesset Records, July 30, 1986; June 14, 1988. ** Likud, including Rafi-Ometz; in the first reading, Likud, including Tami.

Party

Party Size and Location

TABLE 4.1 MKs’ Voting Patterns on Electoral Reform According to Party Affiliation*

120

4 2 4 2

1 4 1

2 6 5 1 4 2

43 39

Total

86 THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

87

Likud MKs, while demonstrating mixed behavior and not acting as expected—that is, like Labor—tended to support reform, especially in the first reading when the party did not attempt to enforce party discipline. It was also the case that most reform opponents came from Herut, the more extreme party in the Likud party alliance. As expected, small extremist parties on the right and left of the dovish-hawkish continuum (Hatehiya and Kach on the right; the Arab Democratic Party, Hadash—the Democratic Front for Peace and Equality—and the Progressive List for Peace and Equality on the left), along with the more clerical parties (Morasha, Shas, Agudat Yisrael) rejected reform, while less extremist parties generally showed less rejection (e.g., the NRP through its absence in the preliminary reading) and even supported reform (Ratz, Shinui, Tzomet). Thus, location and size seem to be good predictors for tendencies, although not perfect ones: Tzomet, a small party to the right of Likud, supported reform while many in Likud rejected it; Mapam rejected reform while Ratz, to its left, supported it; Likud’s behavior did not fully mirror that of Labor. It should be also be kept in mind that these are the results of voting, a public behavior with public meaning. The fate of reform, though, was not decided by voting but through delaying maneuvers. Thus, the intensity of support or rejection—which is not reflected in this preceding analysis—is a main component of our overall analysis and should be addressed separately. Labor can be described as the major mover of reform: Labor’s support for electoral reform was a traditional stand; intraparty opposition to reform in Labor was marginal; most Labor MKs supported reform in both readings and no one opposed it; several Labor MKs and ministers initiated moves to promote reform; and Labor party institutions backed the reformist moves of the Knesset faction. Despite this role, Labor did not put electoral reform at the top of its agenda. In return for the support of the religious parties in a narrow Government, Labor—while attacking Likud for delaying and blocking reform—was ready to stop promoting reform. The response of Labor’s chairman, Peres—who at the time was attempting to build a narrow coalition—to the CLJC chairman’s suggestion that both large parties jointly promote reform illustrates this stand: “Electoral reform is indeed important, but peace is even more important” (Jerusalem Post, November 8, 1989). Likud’s positions on the issue of reform were even less stable than those of Labor. On the one hand, party support for reform mainly stemmed from sensitivity to public opinion. For example, support for reform appeared on the party platforms of the 1977 and 1988 elections, when rival parties or pressure groups mobilized public opinion to support the cause of reform, but not on those of the 1981 and 1984 elections. On the other hand, there was not much strong internal opposition to reform; some Likud MKs actively promoted it and some even breached party discipline and supported it in the Knesset.8 The party chairman, PM Shamir (1986–1992), lacked a clear stand on the

88

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

issue and demonstrated a willingness to reject reform in exchange for the support of other parties in a Likud-led coalition. Among the two prisoners in the dilemma—whose choice was either supporting reform or building a narrow coalition with the pivotal parties that rejected reform—Likud was more susceptible to antireform pressures. Labor, who also preferred establishing a narrow government to electoral reform, carried reform as far as it could, but Likud stopped short, using reform more easily as a commodity for coalition trade. As could be expected from the small and extremist parties, all the rightwing parties—except Tzomet—rejected reform.9 Tzomet presented its position on reform as one of principle, claiming it was willing to sacrifice its own independent survival for the sake of the needed reform. They had at least a short-term rationale for this stand and behavior: until reform would be adopted, Tzomet’s reformist positions enabled it to distinguish itself from the other right-wing parties and thus to justify its independent existence. All the religious parties can be roughly described as opponents of electoral reform, but there were differences in their stands and behaviors. Within the least extreme party of this group, the NRP, a consensus existed on the need to preserve a high level of proportionality. There were internal disagreements, though, between those who rejected any reform and those willing to support the adoption of subnational districts and personal elements. When direct election of the PM became the predominant reform on the agenda—and seemed, at first glance, an ideal reform for the NRP—the disagreements over electoral reform were happily pushed aside (Safrei, 1990). Agudat Yisrael, an ultraorthodox party, was a prominent opponent of reform. Beyond expressing its absolute rejection and voting against it, it used its coalition bargaining power to pressure Likud into blocking the legislation of reform. While other ultraorthodox parties supported its struggle, they usually demonstrated less antireform zeal. The Zionist parties on the left all held different stands on the issue of reform. Mapam, who left the Alignment after the establishment of the LaborLikud unity Government, stood firm on its traditional rejection of reform and voted against it. Only in 1990, when the issue was pushed aside, did some signs of change in its position begin to be seen. Shinui, on the other hand, not only supported reform, but initiated moves to promote its less proportional version. After 1988, while continuing to support electoral reform, Shinui changed its focus and struggled to promote the direct election of the PM. Shinui claimed that this change in focus came from the perception that this reform, unlike the electoral reform proposals that were on the agenda, would curb the blackmail power of the small pivotal religious parties (Rubinstein, 1988a,b). Ratz, while supporting electoral reform and voting for it at the plenum, showed less enthusiasm than Shinui and also tried to ensure that a high level of proportionality would be preserved.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

89

All the non-Zionist leftist parties rejected reform. Hadash did so in its traditional way, claiming that social and foreign policies, rather than the system, were the real problems that should be addressed (see, e.g., Gozansky, 1988). The Progressive List for Peace and Equality was zealous in its struggle against reform and petitioned the Supreme Court concerning the decision of the speaker of the Knesset to pass the bill in its preliminary reading with plurality support (HCJ 761/86). In 1988, the Arab Democratic Party representative, who had defected from Labor, joined the camp of the reform opponents; formerly, as a Labor MK, he had voted in support of reform. Interest Groups. By the end of the 1980s, Israeli pressure groups became more autonomous and significant actors (Yishai, 1998). Changes in opportunities for protest and in citizens’ perceptions were reflected by an increase in protest activity, especially political types (Hermann, 1996; Kortz & Lehman-Wilzig, 1994; Lehman-Wilzig, 1992). In addition, the influence of interest groups became more significant as a result of the vacuum created by the lack of effective parliamentary opposition during 1984–1990, the era of the unity Governments (Korn, 1994). Until the end of 1987, interests groups who attempted to promote electoral reform failed to achieve much. The CFI activities signified a turning point in the influence of pressure groups on the politics of reform. The group originated in a joint academic effort that started at the beginning of 1986, aimed at drafting a constitution for Israel.10 After it completed its draft constitution at the end of 1987, it began a public campaign aimed at promoting a complete package of reforms, including a proposal to adopt an MMP system. After the CFI recognized that the promotion of the “package” was doomed to fail, it decided to focus its efforts on the promotion of three of its main components: a bill of rights, electoral reform, and government system reform. At certain times during 1988–1989, the group focused almost all its efforts on electoral reform. These efforts included various protest activities, lobbying, mass gatherings, telephone and mail campaigns directed at MKs, and also the supply of academic advice to the reformers. Through lobbying and campaigning, the CFI succeeded in promoting its version of electoral reform. It became one of the two alternative versions of reform that passed a first reading in 1988. After failing in its efforts to further advance electoral reform (and a bill of rights) during 1988–1990, CFI neglected all other reform proposals and focused on promoting direct election of the PM. Electoral reform returned to its agenda only in 1992, after direct election was adopted. Immigrants associations were prominent among the additional interest groups that took part in the reform effort. The Association of Americans and Canadians in Israel invested organizational and financial resources in the campaign, and also served as an important link between local reformers and potential supporters among North American Jews.11 Usually, Jews from the

90

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

Diaspora refrain from playing an active role, or at least a public role, in Israeli domestic and party politics. After the 1988 elections, however, many changed their behavior. The strengthening of the ultraorthodox parties created a realistic fear that their demands to consolidate their monopoly on the definition of who is a Jew (and, more important, who is not) would be met. Jewish organizations pressured the Israeli Government not to surrender to these demands (Berg, 1989; Freedman, 1989) and played an important role in bringing the two large parties together to establish the third unity Government (1988–1990). Several Diaspora Jewish leaders and groups supported electoral reform (and, later, government system reform), believing it would be a long-term solution for restraining the coalition bargaining power of the ultraorthodox parties. The linkage between the electoral system and the power of the ultraorthodox parties in Israeli politics was marketed to American Jewish leaders by politicians, academics, entrepreneurs, and through editorials and articles in the local English daily, the Jerusalem Post (editorial, November 25, 1988; Krivine, 1988a; Landau, 1988). At the time of the coalition crisis of 1990, prominent figures in the American Jewish community signed ads that appeared in the Israeli newspapers and called for electoral reform. The Introduction of an English booklet on electoral reform in Israel, written by Arye Carmon (1990a, p. 1), president of the IDI (Israel Diaspora Institute), illustrated the perceived linkage between the electoral system and ultraorthodox power: In the winter of 1988/1989 the Jewish world found itself faced with the question of “who is a Jew?” which had become a central issue in negotiations over formation of a new Government in Israel. The alarm felt in many Jewish communities led to their unprecedented intervention in the turbulent negotiating process and underlined the fact that the relationship between the Jewish state and the Diaspora has a direct bearing on the political situation in Israel, and vice versa. Thus, reform of the Israeli electoral system whose necessity is almost universally recognized would not only serve the Israeli polity but the interest of the whole of the Jewish world, as well.

Mayors were also recruited to support the cause of reform. Many expressed support for the CFI proposals—from adopting its draft constitution to adopting the more focused proposals, among them electoral reform—and several took an active part in various public activities. Electoral reform, especially the entrenchment of a regional element, seemed to fit the interests of the mayors, who held a regional power base.12 At various points, protective interest groups joined the CFI reform campaign: workers councils, student associations, youth movements, and high school student committees. They also functioned as a pool for the recruitment of activists and served the reformers’ goal of creating a nonpartisan and popular image for their campaign.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

91

Some protest activities that did not focus on the call for adopting electoral reform nevertheless contributed to its promotion. For example, after the 1988 elections, veteran military generals and disabled veterans groups organized protests against the ultraorthodox small, pivotal parties. They called them opportunists, and blamed them for exploiting state resources while, unlike other Jewish citizens, being exempt from the burden of military service. Not only was electoral reform not the focus of this activity, but it may have even overshadowed attempts made at the time to promote the reform cause. Yet, in the long run, this protest was beneficial for the reformers because it focused attention on the “problem” that electoral reform (and later government system reform) was supposed to solve. The failure of the Government to respond to demands for drafting ultraorthodox youngsters into the military served as a “proof” of the need for reform, of the need to adopt a systemic solution to the Government impotency vis-à-vis the ultraorthodox parties. The Movement for Governance Reform in Israel (MGRI)—which was born during the days of the coalition crisis of March–June 1990—began its activity by protesting against the behavior of politicians and parties. Later, when it recognized that its success obligated it to present a reform platform, it included electoral reform in its list of demands. However, this group was born too late to play a significant role in the promotion of electoral reform because during the second half of 1990, direct election of the PM had become the focus for reformers. This group, after some hesitation, joined the crowd of reformers and abandoned its demand for electoral reform. Experts. Like other extraparliamentary actors, experts were also more involved in the politics of electoral reform of the late 1980s than ever before. They served as professional witnesses for the CLJC and for the second LaborLikud bipartisan committee, and also were active within various intraparty committees and gatherings. In addition, academics organized conferences that dealt with the reform issue and published academic works and columns in daily newspapers on the pros and cons of various electoral reform alternatives. Several academics also took an active part in the parliamentary and public efforts to promote or block specific reform proposals. Generally, experts tried to demonstrate the complexity of the issue. Skeptical and critical experts pointed out that reformers were overstating the anticipated effects of reform, since no system can respond to all needs, and since those reforms that were on the agenda were not expected to have any radical effect on the nature of the party system (Brams. 1989; Diskin & Diskin, 1988; Doron, 1989, 1990a; Galnoor, 1989). Some experts tried to contribute to the debate through suggesting their own alternatives to the proposed reform, but, lacking the tools to promote them, these proposals remained footnotes in the public debate on reform.13

92

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

Several individual experts and groups of experts played a significant role in the politics of electoral reform. The CFI’s proposal to adopt an MMP system, which became one of the two versions of reform that passed its first reading in 1988, came from political scientist Bernard Susser (1987a,b). His activity included not only the formulation of the specific proposal, but also the organization of a group of political scientists to address the issue with the explicit goal of putting reform on the agenda. The CFI was originally a group of experts, and while it later became a pressure group, it continued its academic activities, using them to create a professional and nonpartisan image. The IDI, an independent think tank, also took part in the public debate on electoral reform. Its activities were focused on supplying academic expertise to the debate on reform, attempting to present a balanced analysis of the pros and cons of several reform alternatives (Peri, 1989; Scheman, 1989, 1990a,b). The IDI was also involved in lobbying, and made sure that its activities—particularly two international conferences on electoral reform— were exposed to the public. Another think tank that took part in academic activities on electoral reform was the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs. It was involved in organizing debates on electoral reform and supplying academic advice to politicians, including an attempt to promote its own version of reform. In the campaign for the direct election of the PM, the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs changed its academic pattern of action and behaved more like a pressure group, taking part in propaganda activities and recruiting and transferring resources to serve the goals of the campaign. Experts suggested various versions of reform. While debate and disagreement are at the basis of good science, they are not constructive for promoting reform. Multiple versions of reform make it harder to crystallize a proreform majority, especially when each version of reform claims the prestige of originating from expert professional nonpartisan advice. The ability of experts to clarify the pros and cons of each reform alternative is important at the preliminary stage, when different versions are placed before the public and decision-makers. Yet, once the campaign is on its way, skepticism, the multiplicity of versions of reform, and the multiplicity of the predictions of the anticipated consequences of each, all contribute to delaying the process. Several reformers internalized the repeated claims that the electoral reform proposals that were on the agenda would not lead to a significant change in the nature of the party system, and thus would not result in a decrease in the bargaining power of the ultraorthodox parties. Therefore, they moved their support to a more innovative cure, direct election of the PM, even though some of those same skeptical experts warned it was the wrong cure. For example, MK Amnon Rubinstein (1988a) based his claim that electoral reform would not solve the problem of the small pivotal parties’ power on the study conducted by H. Diskin and A. Diskin (1988). At the same time, though, Rubinstein became a prominent champion of direct

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

93

election of the PM, ignoring the warnings of A. Diskin and H. Diskin (1991) against its adoption. Experts who work as academic professionals are hardly a convenient resource of support for reformers. In promoting any issue, experts are asked to surrender their professional aura, with no “ifs,” “buts,” and “on the one hand” phrases. Only when there is a selective use of their study, or when they are willing to put aside their skepticism and play the game of one-sided zealous supporters, can their professional aura be efficiently employed to promote reform. Otherwise, the input of pro-reform experts would not be useful for reform promotion and might even cause delays. Mass Media. At the time that electoral reform was on the agenda, the mass media in Israel was in an interim phase of development. On the one hand, the age of the party-controlled press had ended, and privately owned national and local newspapers dominated the scene (Caspi & Limor, 1986). On the other hand, the electronic media was still on the eve of the revolution that later included multiple-channel cable television, additional, semiprivate news channels, local radio, and the Internet. Yet, the mass media was more independent and more critical in its treatment of the political system than ever. Generally, the mass media did not play the role of defender of the status quo, nor was it a central actor in the politics of reform. Even when opinions on the issue were expressed, they usually remained in the editorials, and the newspapers themselves served as a stage for various opinions. Routinely, the mass media reacted to such parliamentary events as discussions and voting in the Knesset on electoral reform through news coverage and by publishing the opinions of experts, politicians, and commentators. Some CFI activities, such as the publication of the draft constitution at the end of 1987, along with its later campaigns for electoral reform, motivated discussion in the media and led to increased coverage of politicians’ stands and behaviors. After the 1988 elections, a new interest in electoral reform was clear, especially since it was proposed as a possible solution for the problem of the exaggerated bargaining power of the ultraorthodox. While this “solution” was debated in many newspapers, the English daily, the Jerusalem Post (editorials, November 25, 1988, March 31, 1989, May 19, 1989; Landau, 1988), indicated consensual support for reform in editorials and commentators’ columns articles. This had important ramifications in terms of mobilizing American Jewish support for reform by presenting it as a solution to their concerns about ultraorthodox demands for a monopoly on the definition of “who is a Jew.”14 The mass media reacted to the activities of other actors who offered various contexts in which reform should be discussed. Its contribution to promoting reform stemmed mainly from routine journalist activities, such as covering coalition crises and protests, which were linked by the reformers to the cry for electoral reform.

94

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

The Public and Public Opinion. Beyond elections, the results of opinion polls are the most common indicators of public opinion. Polling was virtually nonexistent in the 1950s and quite rare in the 1970s. Even when a few results of opinion polls were available, signs of their use in the politics of electoral reform were virtually absent. In the 1980s, in contrast, opinion polls became more and more central in media reports (Wieman, 1998). Parallel to this development, opinion polls became part of the arsenal of political weapons. Reforms were promoted in the name of “the people”—the majority who expressed support for reform in opinion polls. Opinion polls conducted in 1984–1990—some ordered by interested sides, other by independent clients—showed that an absolute majority supported whatever version of electoral reform that was presented in any particular poll.15 These findings were used to promote reform, suggesting that MKs should support it since the public “demands” it. For example, in the Knesset deliberations on electoral reform prior to the first reading of 1988, three MKs mentioned results of opinion polls to demonstrate that the public supported reform. There were several active public expressions of support for electoral reform. Thousands of citizens participated in the mass gatherings of January and November 1988, which, among their other demands, called for the adoption of electoral reform. Thousands sent letters to the president and to MKs in support of electoral reform and the package of reforms suggested by the CFI, which also included electoral reform. Tens of thousands signed petitions that called for political reforms, among them electoral reform. The majority of the public, while showing support for reform, did not demonstrate much knowledge of the issue. In a poll conducted by R. Shapira, Ben Yithak, Susser, and Tibon (1987) at the end of 1986, those questioned (68 percent of whom supported electoral reform) were asked to define the Israeli electoral system by choosing between four possible answers. Only 34 percent chose the correct answer, defining it as a PR system. The others chose to define it as “personal,” “regional,” and “civic.” It should be noted that more than 50 percent of those interviewed answered each of the other nine questions that tested political knowledge in this poll correctly. Furthermore, the public did not distinguish between the different reform proposals. In a poll conducted in April 1990, when reform was gaining prominence on the agenda, 80 percent of those interviewed supported electoral reform and 78 percent supported the direct election of the PM.16 The public, as an actor in the politics of reform, did not express a preference for any specific reform, but did support substantive reform in the regime structure. The nature of this “change” was left to be determined by others, mainly from within the political establishment. The Reform Process Initiation and Recognition. Only a minority of the MKs in the eleventh Knesset (1984–1988) were representatives of parties that declared support for

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

95

reform in their election platforms. Just as in 1981, Likud refrained from expressing support for reform in its manifest. Also, as already indicated, the status of electoral reform had eroded since 1977. Yet, with no significant extragovernmental pressure, the issue managed to penetrate the decisionmakers’ agenda. This happened when politicians recognized that the establishment of the unity Government could be an opportunity for the promotion of reform. After all, electoral reform was not a new issue, nor was the version of reform that was on the agenda much different from those versions of the 1970s. At this stage, the politics of reform took place within the governmental bodies, the Government and then the Knesset. The 1984 Likud-Labor coalition agreement determined that a bipartisan committee would be established to examine the electoral system and election laws, and that the promotion of any reform or amendment would depend on the mutual agreement of both sides. By mid-1985, the bipartisan committee agreed to propose an increase of the threshold to 2.5 percent, but failed to reach any agreement on electoral reform because Likud preferred dealing with the election laws instead of discussing electoral reform. Facing a deadlock, the head of the committee moved the issue of electoral reform to the parliamentary arena. Answering a query in the plenum in July 1985, he reported that disagreements between Likud and Labor created a deadlock and suggested that the Knesset would take the initiative. The Knesset was very receptive, and one week later a private member bill that suggested the adoption of a two-tiered system was submitted. In the following year, forty-four MKs from five different parties added their signatures to the bill, including more than half of the Labor’s MKs (twenty-three) and about a third of the Likud MKs (fourteen). Initial Ratification. The preliminary reading of the electoral reform bill was conducted a year after its submission. The PM and the coalition chairman (both from Likud) tried to block the bill from reaching the plenum, but their actions caused only a short delay. The bill was supported by fifty MKs, including most Labor MKs, a minority of Likud MKs (who breached party discipline), and MKs from Ratz, Shinui, and Tzomet. Thirty-nine MKs rejected the bill, among them eighteen from Likud and most of the small party representatives (Table 4.1). The common notion was that, according to precedence, a plurality was insufficient to amend the electoral system article of the Basic Law: The Knesset in a preliminary reading. Yet the Knesset speaker, using the opinion of the attorney-general, declared that plurality support would be sufficient. The decision surprised many and helped pass the bill, since many who were absent might have thought that their absence would be enough to ensure its blocking. Two MKs petitioned the Supreme Court, challenging the speaker’s decision, but the Court refused to address the issue, claiming that the legislation was at too early a stage (HCJ 761/86). The CLJC began its deliberations of the reform bill three months after it passed the preliminary reading. In March 1987, after six meetings that

96

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

included hearings from experts and lobbyists, the committee decided—with the support of eight MKs (including Likud MKs) and the opposition of three—to pass the bill on to the plenum for a first reading. Reformers were not interested in speeding up the process at that stage, as they now clearly needed the support of an absolute majority in the plenum. The bill was frozen until the activities of CFI revived interest in the issue, thus putting it on the public agenda and garnering wide support in the Knesset. In August 1987, CFI began its public activities by promoting its proposed draft constitution as a complete package. It presented its draft constitution as a gift to the citizens for the fortieth anniversary of the State of Israel, claiming that it was about time for a forty-year-old state to adopt a constitution (CFI, 1988; Reichman, 1987a,b; Saragusti, 1987). The issue of electoral reform was relatively marginal at the time, but the group managed to gain exposure and credit from the serious treatment of its ideas, thus creating a good basis for the more focused activities it later conducted. At the beginning of 1988, the CFI focused its activities on three central elements in its proposal, among them electoral reform. At the same time, the CFI successfully lobbied to promote its version of reform—an MMP system—in the Knesset. This proposal was first submitted as a private member bill by Likud and Labor MKs, but a later parliamentary maneuver allowed the bill to be pushed further along by adding it as a second version of reform to the reform bill that had already passed its preliminary reading.17 At the beginning of June 1988, the Knesset plenum deliberated the electoral reform bill. While reform proponents thanked CFI for its public campaign, reform opponents criticized its aggressive campaign techniques. Deliberations ended without a vote on the bill because reformers failed to ensure that an absolute majority would support it (Bechor, 1996; Ginossar, 1988). The vote was conducted a week later, which came as a surprise since it was thought that both large parties had agreed—in response to smaller parties’ pressures—to postpone it. The timing of the first reading was optimal for the reformers. Religious politicians’ insistence on putting forth their contested amendments to the Law of Return created an opportunity for the promotion of the electoral reform bill. Thus, there were many MKs in the plenum, which enabled the mobilization of the necessary absolute majority (Bechor, 1996). More important, the vote on the proposed amendment to the Law of Return created tensions between the ultraorthodox parties and the large parties, whose MK votes defeated the initiative. Many Likud MKs objected to this amendment, and predicted that their stand would lead to tensions with the religious parties. The perception that a crisis would be inevitable created an opportunity to support electoral reform and ignore the opposition of the ultraorthodox parties. In the first reading, the reform proposal had the overwhelming support of sixty-nine MKs versus thirty-three. Partisan voting patterns were similar to those of the preliminary reading, except for those of the

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

97

Likud MKs (Table 4.1). This time, a majority of Likud MKs supported the bill, which enabled it to win the support of the necessary majority. Speeches and voting behavior were clearly influenced by the CFI public campaign for electoral reform. Fifty-nine out of sixty-five MKs who were listed as supporters of electoral reform in a CFI advertisement indeed voted for reform, while only two voted against reform and four were absent.18 Struggle for Survival. After suffering a double defeat—the defeat of their amendment to the Law of Return and the passage of the electoral reform bill—the ultraorthodox parties increased their pressure on Likud. Although the CFI public campaign continued, calling on decision-makers not to surrender to these pressures, the PM chose to capitulate and promised the ultraorthodox parties that the reform bill would not be brought to second and third readings. The CLJC began its deliberations on the reform bill about two weeks after it passed the first reading. At this stage, as elections drew closer, it was clear that only a coordinated move by the two large parties would allow for the completion of legislation before the end of the term of the eleventh Knesset. Facing the upcoming general elections and public support for reform, MKs from both large parties expressed their support for reform. Yet attempts to reach a bipartisan agreement failed. On the surface, the two parties’ disagreement on the content of reform seemed to be the obstacle to its progress. Likud appeared to support MMP, while Labor—with the support of the CFI, who had previously promoted MMP—supported a somewhat newer version of a two-tiered system. The discussions were postponed without reaching an agreement, serving PM Shamir’s interest in freezing the moves toward reform (Bechor, 1996). However, beneath the surface, what really happened was that Likud managed to block the bill without being blamed for opposing reform. Under pressure from PM Shamir to block the legislation, Likud MKs in the CLJC changed their attitudes during three meetings that took place over eight days; through the course of one meeting, their positions changed during an afternoon break (Bechor, 1996). Thus, the blocking of reform legislation was not the result of substantive disagreement concerning its content; such disagreement served to block reform without Likud’s having to take an unpopular, explicit stand against it. This was made even easier when the champions of reform, the CFI, modified their proposed version of reform. Likud was then able to champion their old MMP version, while Labor supported the CFI’s new version of reform. In essence, the special conditions that enabled Labor and most Likud MKs to support reform in the first reading in the plenum were absent. They both became obligated to the religious parties again: Likud made promises to them in regard to electoral reform; Labor coordinated with them to determine that municipal elections would be held at a different time than the general elections.

98

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

Electoral reform was not a major issue in the election campaigns for the twelfth Knesset. It returned to the agenda after elections when it was clear that the election results had given the ultraorthodox parties an exclusive pivotal position, that is, the ability to decide which large party would establish the Government. Their demand to promote religious legislation, especially amending the Law of Return, created a harsh reaction in the Israeli public and the Jewish Diaspora. Renewed calls for electoral reform, by such actors as the CFI and the president, presented reform as a cure to the seemingly disproportionate blackmail power of these parties (Allon, 1988a,b). Although electoral reform returned to the agenda, it was evident that sometimes it became mixed with the call for government system reform. There were even initial signs of readiness to abandon electoral reform and to focus efforts on government system reform by those who saw it as the “solution” to the pressing “problem” of the bargaining power of the ultraorthodox parties (Goell, 1988; Rubinstein, 1988b,c). In the first few months after the November 1988 elections, it seemed that electoral reform not only had survived, but might even make progress. Both PM Shamir and Labor chairman Peres expressed positive stands in regard to electoral reform. More important, since electoral reform was used by Labor as a tool to legitimize its contested reentry into the unity Government, it penetrated into the Government agenda (Bechor, 1996). A bipartisan committee, whose function was to design an agreed-on reform proposal, was established as part of the coalition agreement between the two large parties. Unlike former coalition agreements, this agreement explicitly restricted both parties from unilateral action to promote reform for only one year (see Galnoor & Hofnung, 1993 pp. 1012, 1014). The parliamentary arena also looked better prepared to promote reform, since about ninety MKs came from parties whose election platforms included support for reform. This demonstrated that the parties understood that the issue had become publicly salient. Developments in the first half of 1989 seemed to confirm that reform was indeed making progress. The CLJC’s request for continuity of legislation of the electoral reform bill was not even contested. In two and a half months, the bipartisan committee succeeded in formulating a reform proposal that was anonymously ratified by all its members. This development was significant because committees had often served as cemeteries for reform initiatives. Yet, at the same time, it became more and more apparent that the exclusive, pivotal position of the religious parties would prove an effective barrier to promoting reform. Labor and Likud, after a very short honeymoon, each tried to build their own narrow coalition, in which the religious parties would be a crucial part. The Likud blinked first, when it failed to ratify the conclusions of the bipartisan committee, at the same time that Labor ratified it.19 In the following months, Likud maneuvered between antireform pressures from the religious parties, and intraparty and extraparliamentary pro-reform pres-

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

99

sures, trying to satisfy both sides. Likud established its own intraparty committee that reexamined the bipartisan reform proposal, found its faults, and suggested alternative reforms, including making the adoption of electoral reform conditional on the simultaneous adoption of government system reform (Allon, 1995). Shamir’s close associate, Chaim Corfo, led the maneuvers within the party, expressing pro-reform stands—thus demonstrating responsiveness to public opinion and to supporters of reform within Likud— but blocking reform promotion by emphasizing disagreements with Labor on its content (Allon, 1995). Labor attacked Likud for these maneuvers (Yaacobi, 1989b), and the CFI and its allies focused their pressures on Likud (Bechor, 1996). Yet, although Labor threatened to initiate a unilateral move, it refrained from doing so. Although Labor put more emphasis on reform, it still used reform as a tradable commodity in its attempts to establish a narrow governing coalition with the crucial support of the ultraorthodox parties. The coalition crisis of March–June 1990 had the potential to be a window of opportunity for the last push for electoral reform. The collapse of all earlier coalition agreements—especially Likud’s promises to the ultraorthodox parties not to promote reform without their consent—together with huge public pressure for “change,” could have advanced such a move.20 What happened, however, was that the crisis became the funeral for electoral reform and the matriculation of the initiative for government system reform. Former supporters of electoral reform—like MKs Rubinstein, Avraham Poraz, and Uriel Lynn—claimed that it would not get rid of factionalism and horse-trading, and might even make things worse, and called the direct election of the PM the right solution. Even MK Gad Yaacobi, a veteran champion of electoral reform who until then was unenthusiastic about the direct election initiative, claimed that the two reforms should be promoted together and even suggested his own government system reform bill. The way that the CJLC deliberations developed during the coalition crisis illustrates how government system reform replaced electoral reform as the major proposal for reforming the regime structure. At the same time that the CLJC chairman opened the floor for discussion of various reform initiatives—electoral reform, government system reform, adoption of a bill of rights, smaller scale changes such as an increase of the legal threshold and laws against the defection of MKs from their parties—his announcements and his behavior testified that he favored focusing on the direct election of the PM. Other active members of the CLJC—some of whom were veteran champions of electoral reform—also decided to focus on promoting the direct election of the PM. The way that the long deliberation, under the title “government and electoral system reform” developed indicated which of the two would be promoted. Electoral reform was discussed only at the beginning of these deliberations, by its long-time champion Yaacobi. After the discussion turned to the direct election of the PM, this initiative took precedence and

100

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

the experts who were invited to the meeting concentrated on direct election rather than possible electoral reforms. At that time, the bills on electoral reform and direct election of the PM were at the same legislative stage—they had both passed their first reading. The belief that the direct election bill had a better chance of being adopted than the electoral reform bill was a major reason for the decision to focus on it. This prediction was based on past experience with the failure of electoral reform initiatives, together with the estimation that the lack of a solid, long-term rejection of the new initiative could help in its promotion. When both large parties tried to draw the ultraorthodox parties to their side, it was difficult to see how the old, disputed electoral reform bill could be promoted. In addition, the belief that direct election would supply the solution to the problem of Government dependence on the small pivotal parties and opportunistic individuals strengthened at this time. In contrast, realistic versions of electoral reform, with their high levels of proportionality, were seen as lacking the characteristics needed to solve the problem. In the coalition agreement of June 1990, Likud made potentially contradictory obligations to its coalition partners on the issue of electoral reform (see Galnoor & Hofnung, 1993, pp. 1016–1026). These obligations remained moot, though, as the whole issue was pushed aside, and Likud did not have to face these potential complexities. Although the Knesset prevented the electoral reform bill from returning to square one, by determining that an amendment to Article Four of the Basic Law: The Knesset required the support of only a plurality in the preliminary reading, this remained a side effect of Knesset decisions on the pressing issue of party financing. Pressures for electoral reform were not renewed and the direct election of the PM occupied center stage. The twelfth Knesset adopted only a small change to the electoral system, an increase of the legal threshold from 1 percent to 1.5 percent. While this change was minimal and seemed to be in the interest of almost all parties, serving as a barrier against the defections of individuals or minority groups, it still testified to the atmosphere of reform at the time, since even such marginal changes rarely occurred in Israeli politics (only in 1951 and 1973). The Characteristics of Reform Proposals The three prominent electoral reform initiatives of the 1980s combined the existing nationwide closed-list system with new elements of local representation and added personal elements as well. While the first initiative—the one that passed its preliminary reading in 1986—preserved a pool of forty seats for national representatives, it was the most radical in terms of PR. First, the national pool was supposed to be noncompensatory, so small parties with no vote concentrations were expected to

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

101

win only one-third of the representation they had under the current system. In addition, the effective threshold in the twenty-four member districts would have stood at about 20 percent of the vote. This might have appealed to the large parties, and maybe to those small centrist parties to whom reform was so central that they were prepared to commit political suicide—or who hoped that their centrist image would help them survive given the increase in centripetal pressures. Indeed, most small parties, especially the religious ones, saw this proposal as a threat and did their best to block it. Yet, in the first stages of legislation, reformers did succeed in postponing negotiations on proportionality among the pro-reform parties. Later, more proportional electoral reform proposals captured the center stage, and the relatively radical proposal was pushed aside. The CFI (1988, Articles 51–53) proposal for an MMP system—which passed the first reading as an alternative to the 1986 proposed reform—had an optimal mixture of preservation and innovation. It preserved high levels of PR (distorted only by a modest increase in the legal threshold) and maintained half of the seats in a national pool and a closed-list system. At the same time, it included the reformist element of the adoption of single member districts. The mix could have been helpful for the establishment of a coalition of various forces with different interests and even differing systemic notions, and was actually presented as the best of both worlds. This proposal did not attract most of the small parties, however. They feared that the reform could be amended to include a substantial increase of the legal threshold and that local competition—when they usually would have no chance of winning—would have an effect on voting behavior at the national level. Yet, indications appeared that this proposal could have been a possible compromise, if the small parties had been convinced that electoral reform was inevitable. The 1988 bill was submitted for a first reading with two versions of reform, a step seen as one that might convince small parties to support reform. The deliberations in the Knesset plenum showed that it helped in recruiting support when many reform supporters expressed a preference for one version over the other. However, the parties that rejected reform in the preliminary reading did not change their positions; the small parties that supported reform in the preliminary reading continued to support it. But while the addition of the MMP version had a limited effect, it was important since it enabled the recruiting the support of an absolute majority. The MMP made it easier for Ratz—who wanted to preserve a high level of PR—to support the bill. Many Likud MKs also preferred this version because it was less threatening to their ultraorthodox allies. The third version of reform, the proposal of the 1989 bipartisan committee, was quite similar to CFI’s original proposal: it preserved a high level of proportionality, while raising the legal threshold to 2.5 percent, and determined

102

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

that half of the MKs would be elected in districts and half from a national pool. The main difference was that the 1989 proposal suggested adopting three-member districts, rather than single member districts—a change recommended by the CFI chairman as an afterthought. This was aimed at entrenching a personal element into the system, so that each voter would be allowed to elect two candidates in each district. It would also ensure minority representation for the second largest party in each district. Like the MMP proposal, this initiative did not substantially change the composition of the pro-reform and antireform coalitions. The ultraorthodox parties rejected it, as they did all other proposed reforms. All these proposals preserved the principal of PR, but were supposed to produce different levels of proportionality. The first initiative would have substantially decreased proportionality. On the other hand, the CFI version of an MMP system and the 1989 proposal of the bipartisan committee both preserved a high level of PR, decreasing it moderately through an increase of the national legal threshold. The proposals were also different in their levels of personalization of the electoral system. The first initiative preserved the closed-list system and made representatives and voters closer only indirectly, through decreasing district magnitude (Shugart, 2001). The CFI version included SMDs, which was supposed to create district representation and would be more personal than the existing closed-list system, but still disable voters to distinguish personal and partisan preferences. The proposal of the bipartisan committee contained the most significant personal element: not only would candidates in the districts be elected personally, but voters would have the option of splitting their vote between the candidates of two different parties. These proposals contained a strong element of compromise that helped to garner wide support. However, through compromise—especially in the case of the preservation of a high level of proportionality—they lost, in large part, their appeal as the “solution” to the major “problem” of the blackmail power of the small, pivotal ultraorthodox parties. On the other hand, when the base point was the “extremist” proportional and partisan Israeli electoral system, even a modest reform proposal could have been seen as a threat to the small parties, especially since it could have served as a precedent for later reforms that would further decrease proportionality. For many MKs, the entrenchment of districts or personal elements could have been seen as threatening their reselection. Direct election of the PM was presented, and also widely considered, as a better solution to the problems of coalition government, as well as a lesser threat to parties and individual MKs, since it dealt only with the election for the PM. Thus, when the electoral reform proposals competed with the initiative for the direct election of the PM—which was also a proposal that suggested the adoption of a multi-faceted, mixed system of government—they were pushed aside.

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

103

BARRIERS TO REFORM IN THE 1980s

The Procedural Barrier Reformers benefited from the ambiguity concerning the size of the majority required to amend Article 4 of the Basic Law: The Knesset in the preliminary reading. It seems that the convention that an absolute majority was needed— which was based on the House Committee decisions in 1974—led many who would otherwise might have voted against the bill to be absent, allowing the bill to pass with the support of a plurality. Although this legal interpretation was ruled wrong by the Supreme Court in 1990, it was not the reason for the burial of the initiative, as Knesset legislation revalidated the need for a mere plurality. In the first reading, it was clear that an absolute majority was required. This was a real obstacle since many MKs, especially from Likud, could choose to be absent—thus responding to coalition pressures without demonstrating “active” rejection—and lead to the rejection of the reform bill. As shown, reformers overcame this obstacle by choosing the optimal timing for the vote. In the face of extraparliamentary pressures in support of reform, it was more convenient to bury the reform bill in the CLJC than reject it in the plenum. When the bill reached the plenum, Likud failed to impose party discipline on its representatives. Delaying tactics enabled Likud to effectively counter the pressures to complete legislation on the eve of the 1988 elections.21 These delaying tactics were backed up with a neutralizing strategy. Disagreement on the content of reform, rather than an unpopular rejection of it, was presented as the reason for postponing reform legislation. In the twelfth Knesset, Likud delayed its decision on the proposal of the bipartisan committee and, at the same time, reused the neutralizing strategy—suggesting an additional version of reform and later making the adoption of electoral reform conditional on the simultaneous adoption of government system reform. Political Tradition After forty years, PR seemed to have achieved a lofty status. All the prominent reform proposals preserved PR. Two of the three prominent proposals maintained high levels of PR and offered only marginal reductions. The explanation for the MMP bill indicated that “the suggested system preserve this principal [PR] that became part of the democratic tradition of the State of Israel.”22 Many reformers explicitly emphasized that PR would be preserved and that reform was targeted to address both the lack of a personal element and of local representation, thus reducing PR rather than abandoning it (see, e.g., Peri 1989).23 The emphasis of the reformers on the preservation of PR was aimed at recruiting wide support for reform. Although this seemed to be a successful

104

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

strategy for promoting reform, it later became the Achilles heel of the initiative. When reformers attempted to divert the stream of cries for “change” in the direction of support for the government system reform initiative, they claimed that PR was so entrenched in the political culture that it should not be destroyed. On the other hand, they claimed, the preservation of PR would not allow electoral reform to address the main problem of coalition politics— the existence of small, powerful, pivotal parties. Thus, they declared that direct election of the PM is the solution, preserving traditional PR in the Knesset elections, while at the same time solving the problem of governability, by letting the people rather than the parties decide who would be the PM. Nevertheless, beyond the power of routine, tradition can hardly be seen as a fundamental barrier to reform in the Israeli context. Only the 1950s initiative that called for the adoption of a SMD system was really radical in this sense. All subsequent prominent initiatives preserved PR. Tradition was flexible enough to justify both reform and the status quo, especially when the struggle over electoral reform was on the level of proportionality rather than on the abolishment of it. Systemic Rationale The prominent electoral reform initiatives of the 1980s, as well as the government system reform proposals, reflected the notion that PR was suited to Israeli politics and society. Reform was mainly aimed at changing the character of the voter-representative relationship and solving the “problems” of coalition politics without harming the principal of PR, either through a modest decrease of proportionality or through the direct election of the PM. Most scholars who addressed the issue of the relationship between the Israeli regime structure and the heterogeneous nature of Israeli society saw PR as an element to be preserved. Beyond this agreement, scholars suggested different diagnoses of the nature and depth of the problems that could be blamed on regime structure, and offered different cures. Using his “consensusmajoritarian” comparative framework, Lijphart’s (1993) analysis of the Israeli regime led him to claim that, by and large, the Israeli consensus-unitary regime structure fits its multicleavaged society and small size. He criticized suggestions to adopt majoritarian features, and recommended fine-tuning the system through adopting moderate changes with the aim of slightly moving Israel’s regime away from its extreme position near the consensus pole. His recommendations included a modest decrease in PR, through an increase of the legal threshold or through the adoption of multimember districts. He also suggested adding an element of personal choice into the list system. Bogdanor (1993) suggested a different diagnosis, claiming that the Israeli electoral system was always problematic, but that when there was a dominant party system, the main faults of this system were hidden. He blamed the

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

105

Israeli system for depriving voters from any role in influencing the composition of the governing coalitions and of the electoral lists, and the lack of constituency representation for having a negative effect on civic and community responsibility. Because he recognized that majoritarianism does not suit Israel’s multicleavaged society, he recommended adopting a PR, multimember district system that would include a personal element. Other scholars claimed that substantial developments that justified reform had occurred in Israeli society. Geographers Gardus and Eini (1986) criticized traditional claims that issues in Israeli politics are mainly national, rather than regional. They claimed that objective indicators testify to an increase in the gaps between the geographical center and the periphery, and that the testing of subjective perceptions in the periphery points to the development of “regional consciousness.” These developments, they claimed, should be addressed through adopting subnational districts that would fix the problem of the underrepresentation of the periphery in the Knesset. Wolfsfeld (1988) claimed that, since the 1970s, a problematic kind of participatory politics has developed in Israel, one in which citizens feel that institutional channels are blocked and therefore behave in terms of what he labeled “the politics of provocation.” The solution he suggested was the opening of channels for institutional participation through adopting districts and personal elements, which would enhance politicians’ personal accountability and responsibility. In short, most scholars agree that PR is suited to Israeli society; although they do not agree on the exact content of a reform to improve its functioning, the main tendency is to recommend a modest decrease in PR and the entrenchment of districts and personal elements (Bogdanor, 1993; Brichta, 2001; Lijphart, 1993). A decrease in PR would not have changed the reality of small ultraorthodox parties holding the pivotal central position. The ultraorthodox parties captured this position because of their different set of priorities, rather than because of extreme PR. A decrease in PR would have forced such groups as the ultraorthodox to band together and participate in elections as a single party. This could somewhat restrain the dynamics of competition among the sectarian parties when each, in addressing similar sectors, tried to demonstrate its greater ability to exploit state resources (material, legal) for the benefit of the sector. From a comparative perspective, the Israeli system was, and still is, problematic as it lacks any personal element (Sager, 1991)—even a symbolic one—and any kind of local representation. According to Shugart’s (2001) comparative approach, the Israeli electoral system is extreme on both interparty and intraparty dimensions. Such a system, according to his approach, is more prone to create pressures for reform, as it produces a low level of “electoral efficiency”—that is, it does not optimally translate the preferences of a majority of the citizens into policies. As Shugart predicted, pressures for

106

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

change were indeed apparent. The response was not electoral system reform per se, but rather the adoption of party primaries and the direct election of the PM. On the intraparty dimension, the element of personal election was entrenched from the bottom, by several parties, and not through electoral reform. Governability was supposed to be fixed from the top, through government system reform, rather than through decreasing proportionality (Rahat & Hazan, 2005). From this perspective, primaries and direct election were substitutes (rather unsuccessful ones) for electoral reform, which, like the proposed electoral reforms, were meant to preserve the tradition of inclusive politics and to suit the systemic rationality of representative politics in a heterogeneous society. The entrenchment of a personal element in the electoral system would have worked better than party primaries, which under the existing electoral system led to the separation of the representatives from their parties. Districts could have added a cross-cutting cleavage to politics, while the majoritarian competition for the prime ministership and the split vote instead reinforced cleavages. As for governability, it could hardly be expected that a modest change in PR would lead to an increase, but a partial division of powers, created by direct election, enhanced the problem rather than fixing it. The substitutes for electoral reform suited the needs of the system much less than a modest electoral reform. Thus, systemic rationality should not be seen as a serious obstacle for reformers, but rather a surmountable barrier like political tradition, which can be overcome by presenting various mixed versions of reform (in the wider sense) and linking elements of suggested reforms to common perceptions (yet not undisputed; see Lijphart, 1999), such as the linkage between majoritarianism and governability. Vested Interests Parties and MKs can be expected to predict that reform might change their fortunes. Yet it is unclear whether they can really recognize the specific consequences of a certain reform. H. Diskin and A. Diskin (1995) claim that the politicians in Israel acted in a far from rational manner—rational in terms of supporting systems that would reward them and rejecting those expected to harm them. For those who were sure that the current system served their interests—the religious parties and the small extremist parties—it was reasonable to act as its zealous guardians. Even if some could have actually benefited from the version of reform that was devised in the 1989 bipartisan committee—as H. Diskin and A. Diskin (1995) claim—reform was risky because an amendment made at the last moment could completely change the calculations. For example, turning the national pool into a noncompensatory pool would have radically altered proportionality, hurting most, if not all, of the small parties. For those closest to the center, especially the large parties, it was unclear who

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

107

would gain and who would lose from reform. In addition, it was unclear if an increase in representation would be translated into an increase in power and influence. Facing this uncertainty—which grew thanks to the complexity of the proposed reforms—the behavior of MKs and parties toward reform was often a response to immediate pressures—sometimes external pro-reform pressures, and sometimes internal coalition antireform pressures—rather than a calculated response in anticipation of its long-term political consequences. The role of individual MKs in the promotion and blocking of reform became more prominent and central in the politics of reform of the 1980s and 1990s. The CFI identified it, and addressed the public as a way to combat their vested interests. The CFI’s chairman claimed in an interview at the time:24 The people who sit in the Knesset are not willing to budge. Among other things, we suggested electoral reform, a change that is not quite radical, but one that will keep a considerable number of them out of the Knesset, and therefore they are not happy to forfeit their place and support the reform of the system. They behave like a workers’ union that defends its assets. (Saragusti, 1987, p. 10)

One tool that was used in the 1970s, and also in the eleventh Knesset, to allay MKs’ reelection worries under the new rules was to promise delay of the implementation of reform until after the next elections. This delay was intended to give MKs enough time to adapt. It also made the price of rejecting reform—especially when there were strong, immediate, external pressures—higher than the political consequences of the reformed system, which were pushed far away to the political horizon. In short, vested interests, on different levels, were a central barrier to the promotion of reform. Yet, they could be overcome at certain points in time, when a majority believed that supporting reform could serve its interests— short term, long term, or both—while rejection could be too costly a move. Agreement on Content Disagreements about the various versions of reform, as well as the proliferation of reform proposals, reflected the two sides of the issue—the substantial and the tactical. On the one hand, disagreements sometimes mirrored a real difference in perceptions and interests. On the other hand, disagreement gave actors an excuse to delay when pressures (external and sometimes intrapartisan) made explicit rejection of reform too costly. In the preliminary reading, it was apparent from the speeches of the two MKs who defended the bill that both those who emphasized the personal element—that of creating a link between voters and representatives—and those who considered Government stability a major goal were satisfied with the bill. At that time, reformers succeeded in postponing conflict over PR.

108

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

As the first reading neared, the MMP version of reform was added to the reform bill, so it contained two versions of reform. The CLJC decided to put both versions to one vote to avoid dividing the required absolute majority into two camps. This decision was helpful at that stage, when the bill was supported by those who explicitly supported only one of its versions. Yet, as later developments illustrate, it was not constructive in and of itself, and was beneficial only thanks to several conditions that existed at the time of voting: the activation of extraparliamentary pressure, and MKs’ tendencies to respond to it on the eve of elections; the conflict between Likud and the religious parties on the issue of separation between local and national elections; and the clerical/anticlerical conflict over the amendment of the Law of Return. Without these factors, the existence of two versions of reform could have served as a justification for abstentions or absences, which might have led the bill to be short of an absolute majority. After the bill passed its first reading, it was no longer possible to postpone defining the exact content of reform. Yet, at this stage, substantial disagreements over content were not the major reason for additional delays, but rather a tactic used to serve other goals. It enabled Likud to claim that it supported reform—thus responding to public opinion, pressure groups, and intrapartisan pressures, while at the same time responding to coalition pressures to block reform. After the bill passed in the first reading in 1988, both CFI and Labor contributed their share to the debate over reform content—changing their minds about the preferable version of reform—and Likud turned these disagreements into a tool for accumulating delays. After 1988, the issue became even more complicated, as the calls for electoral reform in its various forms were mixed with calls for government system reform—both as solutions to the problem of coalition horse-trading.25 Politicians could represent themselves and their parties as “reformers” even more easily, while they could be sure that no specific version of reform would enjoy the support of a majority. At that time, Likud expressed support for government system reform—a private member’s bill that proposed direct election for the PM won the support of the Likud Knesset faction—while Labor tended to emphasize its support for electoral reform. While the bipartisan committee devised a mutually acceptable version of reform, it was later found that this agreement was valid only in the sterile conditions of the committee. In the outside world, this compromise version had to contend with other reform proposals, supplied by Likud’s intraparty special committee. After rejecting the proposal of the bipartisan committee, Likud’s internal committee decided to make electoral reform conditional on government system reform (Allon, 1995). It was argued that both reforms should be promoted together, a claim that meant delay (until government system reform could be discussed and promoted) and the creation of a new focus for disagreements among reformers. This move was quite shrewd because the CFI,

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM, 1984–1990

109

the main representative of the extraparliamentary reformers, did work to push this reform together with electoral reform. It gave parties and politicians enough space to maneuver, to be considered reformers with different visions rather than “self-interested” and “conservative.” The next chapter will show how the CFI and its allies learned their lesson. The process of promoting government system reform was focused on creating a mutually acceptable version of reform with the direct election of the PM at the core. Other elements, even those presented as substantial by the CFI and its allies in the Knesset, were compromised for the sake of recruiting the necessary support. Coalition Politics Coalition politics were both a catalyst for reform and a barrier to it. They were a catalyst when the attempts of the ultraorthodox parties to promote religious legislation fueled extraparliamentary pressure for electoral reform. They were a barrier when the ultraorthodox parties threatened each of the large parties that it would join the other in a narrow coalition if it dared to promote reform. As the preliminary reading approached, coalition pressures were not very strong, probably since the common assumption was that an absolute majority—presumed to be crucial—would not be recruited. The timing of the first reading—on the eve of elections, with tensions between Likud and the religious parties over the timing of local elections, as well as over the Law of Return—exploited a rare situation when the two large parties could allow themselves to stand together vis-à-vis the religious parties. The ultraorthodox Agudat Yisrael party claimed that Likud repeatedly failed to fulfill its obligations, which led it to join Labor in ousting the Government in March 1990. What really happened was that PM Shamir’s conservative style dictated a policy according to which Likud did not promote legislation requested by Agudat Yisrael, but also refrained from promoting legislation rejected by it. Thus, while the electoral reform bill and also the Basic Law: Human Rights bill passed the first stages of legislation, they were later buried, thanks to various maneuvers that prevented their return to the plenum. It did not prove impossible to break through the coalition barrier. Reformers—who exploited windows of opportunity that were created when coalition pressures were relatively weak vis-à-vis other pressures—promoted reform step-by-step. Such windows were opened in the eleventh Knesset, in the relatively comfortable conditions of the unity Government. But reform was never at the top of the agendas of both large parties, and this blocked reform promotion at times of intense competition between them. While Likud was usually the first to blink under coalition pressures, Labor also failed to champion electoral reform at all costs. Windows of opportunity that

110

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN ISRAEL

opened in the twelfth Knesset were exploited for another purpose—promoting government system reform. The new reform did not suffer the same burden of a long tradition of deep resentment, including years of coalition agreements that were made to grant smaller parties a veto. The coalition barrier was central (but surmountable) in the first stages of reform legislation, and substantial in the later stage, when the unity Government started to collapse. CONCLUSIONS

Several factors explain why electoral reform initiatives progressed in the 1980s more than in previous eras. First, long-term developments made reform promotion easier than in the past: the conditions of a bipolar party system and the framework of the unity Government, while putting their own obstacles in the way of reformers, were more conducive to reform promotion. The crisis of governability—and, more important, the perception of crisis—created a receptive audience for the solutions that the reformers proposed. It was easier to promote reform when power was more dispersed among the actors in the politics of electoral reform. Particularly important was the more independent behavior of the Knesset and the increase in the influence of extraparliamentary actors. Parliamentary maneuvers were more successful in such an arena, and skilled exploitation of events enabled reformers to pass the first legislation stages. It was also less difficult to consolidate majority support for multifaceted and relatively modest reform proposals. Yet, the move for electoral reform was not complete. The main obstacle was the increase in the influence of coalition pressures that stemmed from the intensifying competition between the two large parties over the support of the ultraorthodox parties, and the exclusive hold of these parties over the pivotal position after the 1988 elections. In June 1990, when Likud built its narrower coalition, electoral reform was already abandoned for the sake of promoting direct election of the PM. This substitution for electoral reform, after gaining recognition and support, enjoyed a sense of novelty, and did not carry the burden of years of struggles and rejection. In addition, reformers showed that they had learned some lessons from their attempts to promote electoral reform. The perception that direct election of the PM served both various vested interests and systemic interests better than electoral reform helped this initiative complete its journey, while its predecessor, electoral reform, was abandoned at the side of the road, to await better days.

PART TWO

The Politics of Government System Reform in Israel, 1988–1992

This page intentionally left blank.

FIVE

Long-Term Developments, Catalyzing Events, and the Reform Initiative

THIS CHAPTER and the two that follow analyze the politics of government system reform, the process that led to replacing the Basic Law: The Government (1968), which defined Israel as a parliamentary system, with a new version of the Basic Law that established a hybrid government system. In this hybrid system, the head of the executive branch (the PM) was to be elected directly by the citizens, as in presidential regimes; by the same token, the head of the executive branch could be ousted by the legislature, as in parliamentary regimes (Hazan, 1996). Although there were various formulas for government system reform, its major feature, around which reformers built their coalition, was the direct election of the PM. The first part of the chapter describes long-term developments that made the ground fertile for reform. The second part examines events that occurred at the time of reform promotion and their use by reformers. The third part discusses the importance of these background factors in explaining the success in promoting government system reform. The claim is that these background factors made the ground more fertile for reform and also supplied windows of opportunity that would ease its promotion. These background factors did not, in and of themselves, lead to reform and their value in terms of promoting reform was as a result of human action. The fourth part deals briefly with various ideas that were raised before 1987 for fixing and reforming the Israeli government system. Unlike the proposals for electoral reform, these did not win any serious attention from decision-makers and the public. Only when they appeared wrapped in a draft constitution at the end of 1987 did their successful journey begin. The fifth section addresses the issue of the

113

114

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

content of reform. It analyzes how the “mixed” nature of the reform was exploited to build and rebuild supportive majorities composed of forces that held varying perceptions and interests, and sometimes contradicting ones. The last section describes how the various versions of reform merged into one accepted version that won the support of a majority. The analysis in the two last sections reemphasizes the major role of human action in the politics of reform. Actors diagnose problems—which are defined based on background factors—and link them to their suggested solution—in this case, government system reform. LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS

The long-term developments that were addressed in the analysis of the politics of electoral reform in 1984–1990 (chapter four) are also relevant to the politics of government system reform. Yet quite often, the same long-term developments were presented, perceived, and exploited differently. Thus, there is a point in reanalyzing them in the context of government system reform. The bipolar party system that had consolidated since 1977 gave small parties the power to be king-makers, to decide which of the large parties would govern. The ultraorthodox were prominent among these small parties. They exploited their pivotal position to promote religious legislation and enlarge the budgets for their communal religious institutions. Many saw them as cynical exploiters of the system—enjoying its benefits while holding antiZionist stands, and, unlike all other Jewish citizens of the state, refraining from sending their youngsters to perform military service. Until 1988, the power of these parties was somewhat restrained for a number of reasons: the pivotal position was partially shared with other, nonultraorthodox parties; the 1984–1988 unity Governments put some checks on their power; and the more moderate parties within the religious camp held more seats. Most of these restraints disappeared after the 1988 elections, when the ultraorthodox exclusively captured the pivotal position and won more seats than the NRP. As of March 1990, the last restraint—that of the unity Governments—disappeared. The ultraorthodox parties increased their demands, competing with each other for more gains from the large parties. Many began to argue that dependence on such parties was actually “minority rule.” Direct election of the PM seemed to suggest a solution to this situation by moving the power to decide who governs from the small pivotal parties to the citizens, a change not expected from the modest versions of electoral reform that were on the agenda (Brichta, 1998; Doron, 1996). In the previous chapter we saw that, in the 1980s, the Israeli political system was diagnosed as being overburdened and dysfunctional. At its start in 1984, the unity Government supplied solutions to pressing problems of secu-

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

115

rity and economics. Later, it became a malfunctioning partnership between the two large parties, one that was characterized by deadlock—created by mutual veto—and an increasing allocation of spoils. Direct election took its place at center stage exactly at the time when the malfunctioning of the unity Government became most apparent. The two large parties lost any interest in cooperation, were divided on the issue of the U.S. peace initiative that was raised at the time, and faced the third year of the seemingly endless Palestinian uprising. A series of polls conducted between 1987 and 1990 indicated a decline in public trust in Government, Knesset, and parties, an increase in dissatisfaction with the regime, and the longing of many for strong and unchecked leadership.1 Thus, direct election of the PM appealed not only to those who wanted to preserve democracy by making it more functional, but also to large parts of the public who were ready to support it in order to create strong leadership, and who were not afraid that reform—as some of its opponents claimed—would pave the way for a strong, undemocratic leader. The mass demonstration of April 1990 was another sign that the public was highly dissatisfied with the functioning of the system. An unprecedented number (for a nonpartisan demonstration) of more than 100,000 citizens participated in a protest against the “system” as a whole, under the slogan that pointed at all politicians: “We are fed up with the corrupt!” (Mushchatim nim’astem).2 The Knesset’s independence in initiating and adopting legislation reached a new peak in the twelfth Knesset, at the same time that the electoral reform initiative was replaced by government system reform. The Knesset could promote reform with relative independence from coalition and partisan pressures. Developments in intraparty candidate selection methods—the widening of the selectorates—encouraged MKs to respond to popular pressures.3 By 1990, Israelis had accumulated experience with three governing alternatives: Mapai/Labor-led governments (1949–1977), Likud-led governments (1977–1984) and unity governments (1984–1990) in which power was divided between the two. If unity government could have been considered a solution to the crisis, its demise only strengthened the feeling of crisis (Hazan, 1996). Thus, there was an increase in the potential of channeling political dissatisfaction toward regime structure reform, rather than toward a “mere” (electoral) change of its composition. Direct election of mayors, a reform adopted in the 1970s, was generally perceived as a successful reform. Even those who rejected it, or had reservations, did not make any serious effort to suggest a return to the old system. Reformers claimed that this precedent should calm fears from the unknown. While admitting the difference between local and central government, they claimed that the reform in the system of local government demonstrated the

116

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

potential for improvement through a similar reform at the national level (Har Zahav, 1990; Netanyahu 1990b; Rubinstein, 1989). Experience also showed how difficult it is to promote electoral reform. After the new initiative for the direct election of the PM earned some recognition and support, its newness gave it an advantage over the old electoral reform initiative. The initiative did not meet automatic rejection of significant forces as renewed initiatives for electoral reform did. The changing composition of the camps of opponents and proponents of government system reform in 1990–1992 (chapter seven) indicates the relative flexibility in the interpretation of the anticipated consequences of reform. Unlike the case of electoral reform, different projected consequences for different actors could be marketed, without facing strong, united positions on the issue. CATALYZING EVENTS

The same events that were exploited to promote government system reform at its start also helped keep electoral reform alive until the mid-1990s. But, as time passed, the former initiative pushed aside the latter. Events were increasingly manipulated to present government system reform as the right solution to the “problem.” Coalition Building (November–December 1988) Coalition bargaining after the 1988 elections, especially the willingness of the two large parties to succumb to the ever-growing demands of the ultraorthodox parties, created a public outcry that was expressed through the mass media and public protests (Korn & Shapira, 1997). The demand for government system reform was raised together with that for electoral reform. Nevertheless, there were already those who claimed that the remedy to the ultraorthodox’s blackmail power lay clearly with government system reform rather than electoral reform (Goell, 1988; Rubinstein, 1988b,c; Weiss, 1988). Moshe Nissim, a senior Likud politician—who later became a fierce opponent of government system reform (Nissim, 1995)—expressed this view in February 1989 (Allon, 1995, p. 53). After what happened in the last elections to the Knesset, I realize more and more that what is needed is direct election of the PM. What happened in the last coalition negotiations indicated a completely new culture. Woe is to us regarding the level of ‘culture’ when dealing with coalition discussions. We had here a culture of shameful competition, without precedent, between two parties roughly equal in power. A culture of competition, such that no one would have believed it possible to reach conclusions with such dealing. Unbelievable things became a fact. I reached the conclusion that we must impose change. We must not leave the situation as it is, on no account.

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

117

These events prompted the submission of five different bills that proposed government system reform in December 1988–February 1989. Coalition Crisis and Coalition Negotiations: “The Stinky Trick” (March–June 1990) The peace initiative that was promoted by the U.S. secretary of state led to a harsh debate between Labor and Likud at the end of 1989. Peres, then head of Labor, saw it as an opportunity to promote peace. In the face of reservations and rejections from Likud, he instructed the chairman of Labor’s Knesset faction to negotiate with the ultraorthodox parties to establish a Labor-led Government. These moves and disagreements increased tension between Peres and PM Shamir. Many signs indicated that Labor was going to vote against the Government in a no-confidence vote that was scheduled for mid-March 1990. Yet Labor intended to stay in the Government, since the defeat of Government would have made it impossible for the PM to fire his ministers and would thus allow Labor to be in a better bargaining position. However, Likud recognized the “trick” (labeled by Rabin as “stinky”) and Shamir fired Peres, which led all of the remaining Labor ministers to submit their resignations. Labor succeeded in ousting the Government. For the first time in Israel’s history, a Government was thrown out by a vote of no confidence. The MKs of the ultraorthodox parties, who captured the pivotal position, enabled this move when some of them voted against Government and others were absent. They did not automatically join Labor to form a new Government, but instead opened negotiations with both large parties. The ousting of the Government opened the way for three months of coalition negotiations. At the outset, Peres failed in his attempts to form a Government under his leadership because Likud succeeded in building an anti-Labor block. Yet, when Shamir assumed the mission of establishing a Government, it took him an additional forty days to complete it. Ultraorthodox parties, other small factions, and individual MKs who defected from their parties tried to exploit the situation and made high demands in exchange for their support of either party. These demands included senior governmental and administrative posts, special budgets for affiliated institutions, and safe positions in the large parties’ lists in the next elections. This behavior resulted in public outrage since politics looked, more than ever, as if it was only about money and posts. Korn’s (1994, p. 245) account is very instructive. During the political crisis, which really deserved the label under which it entered the history of Israeli politics—the ‘Stinky Trick’—both Likud and Labor dealt with political intrigues of the most base and material kind. . . . In the coalition negotiations, the moves were dictated by marginal actors

118

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

and various defectors. They demonstrated an astonishing level of cynicism in their greediness, and were willing to do anything to get ahead. This was a stormy era of defections from camp to camp, interventions of external agents in the coalition negotiations, parties’ fractionalism, intensive factional activity, payments of political bribery and the like.

The initiators of government system reform and their close associates linked the coalition crisis to their cause from the beginning. Four days after the ousting of the Government, four private member bills that called for the direct election of the PM were introduced for a preliminary reading. MK Yoash Tsiddon, presenting one of the four bills, claimed that, “The formation of the coalition, if we talk only about the Twelfth Knesset, the spasms of the so-called ‘national’ unity Government, everything paints a picture that recalls the French Third Republic; we know what this means and do not want it to be the fate of the Third (Jewish) Temple” (Twelfth Knesset Records, March 19, 1990). He called on the Knesset to support reform in order to regain the “image of the representative of the pure national interest” (ibid.). MK Rubinstein (ibid.; see also Rubinstein, 1990b,c) used the ousting of the Government as proof of the need for the reform. The submission of this bill preceded events. It was submitted in January 1989. Today, the big crisis in our political system illustrates its need. Gentlemen, there is no person who walks the Israeli street, that hears Israelis, and does not hear the echoes of collective disgust with the wheeling and dealing that accompanies the establishment of Government in Israel. There is no precedent and no parallel in the post Second War world to such dealmaking and such disgust, which places in jeopardy the very existence of the democratic regime.

Reformers used the various events that occurred during the Stinky Trick period as evidence of the need for government system reform, as a solution for corrupt government. In a newspaper article entitled “After Black Thursday,” Rubinstein (1990e) gave examples from just one day and night in the Knesset to illustrate his point: the increase in party financing; the increase in “exclusive” budgets (those intended for institutions with which MKs had a strong affiliation, particularly religious ones); and the rapidly spreading rumors that MKs were for sale to the higher bidder. His article ended with the call for government system reform because “to continue like this, like on Black Thursday, is impossible.” One day before the anticipated fall of the unity Government, the CFI chairman was quoted in a newspaper, arguing that “the end of the national unity Government is also the end of the political system in Israel. . . . The events clarify the tragedy inherent in the coalition system and the electoral system that creates it . . . (and) the citizens of the state are disgusted by the politicians for a long time already” (Ha’aretz,

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

119

March 14, 1990). In a news conference at the beginning of April, he defined the behavior of the politicians as a “violation of trust, bordering on criminal offense” (Ma’ariv, April 5, 1990). Sprinzak and Diamond (1993) claimed that while such events occurred in Israeli politics in the past, the Stinky Trick period was distinguished in its magnitude and intensity. The politicians engaged in actions that included coalition horse-trading, political blackmail by small extremist parties, open and shameless political bribery, obsessive partisanship of prominent decisionmakers, disinterest in national economic and immigration policy, and a cynical and paternalistic attitude toward the public. Public protest not only reflected such feelings, but also magnified them. At a mass demonstration on April 7, 1990, this protest reached its peak. In addition to protesting against political misconduct, there was a general call for government system reform—a vague concept at the time that could be seen as relating to any one of various reform initiatives. There was also a demand to expropriate reformmaking from the Knesset and to authorize an independent public committee to formulate a reform package. This protest and the general call for “change,” although unfocused, helped promote the initiative for the direct election of the PM because it was the only substantial reform of the regime structure that was put forth in the Knesset at the time. Paradoxically, the politicians, who were the targets of the protests, decided on the content of the “solution,” the reform—whether they were among those who decided to abandon all other alternatives and focus on direct elections or whether they were among those who made the promotion of any other reform impossible. As A. Horowitz (1990a, p. 18) put it, reformers “adopted a sophisticated strategy of ambush . . . (waiting) for an event that would create an opportunity to promote the idea, exploiting confusion and embarrassment.” The Stinky Trick proved to be such an event, and was exploited for the purpose of passing the direct election bills in preliminary and first readings, bringing it to the same legislative stage that electoral reform reached after years of struggle. Even when the storm was over, the memories from the time that was known as the Stinky Trick era could be used as “evidence” for the harsh problems of the political system and the pressing need to reform it. General Elections Pressure groups were aware that politicians relate to the public especially as the electorate, and that therefore they would be expected to be more responsive as elections drew closer. Hence, to pressure parties to support reform, they used opinion polls showing huge majority support for government system reform and indicating that voting considerations could possibly be affected by partisan behavior on this issue. The CFI even threatened to compete independently in

120

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

the elections if its demands were ignored, and presented opinion polls demonstrating that many voters of the established parties would support it (see chapter six). Bechor (1996, p. 106) relates the following approach to ad-man Arye Rothenberg, who managed the CFI campaign. . . . parallel to the power accumulated, the political system suffers periodic weakness in pre-election periods. During this period, it requires public energy more than anything else, and it is therefore more submissive. Exploitation of public power at this time will be more effective than at any other period. In other words, if accumulation of public power is a process that depends on events that cannot always be controlled, it is the case that election dates are known, and therefore the heads of the public committee [of the CFI] should try to create as much of a link as possible between the times of accumulating public mass and elections dates. If this link succeeds, the movement will succeed in passing more and more of its messages and goals in the Knesset. This analysis was labeled by Rothenberg “the wave theory,” and he needed it again and again during the years of the public struggle in order to explain to frustrated activists why the movement passed through low periods. “Our tree is sleepy in the winter,” he explained, “but in the spring, towards elections, it will suddenly bloom, and afterwards the fruits will also appear.”

Reformers succeeded in putting an electoral price tag on the parties’ rejection of reform. Pressures on individual MKs, who faced reselection by the selectorates of their respective parties, came from many directions. Labor MKs, facing reselection by party members who, like the public as a whole, supported reform, had every reason to comply with the central committee’s decision of December 1990 to support direct elections. Likud MKs, in contrast, faced reselection by a central committee that decided in December 1991 to reject reform, so rejection seemed to be a logical step from their point of view. The March 1992 second and third readings on the reform bill, however, took place after Likud had selected its candidates. It was also getting closer to the general elections, and Likud was threatened that it would pay an electoral price if it tried to block reform. While Likud attempted to freeze legislation by keeping the reform bill in the CLJC, it did demonstrate responsiveness toward external pressures when PM Shamir agreed to grant MKs freedom of vote in the more publicly exposed plenum (Bechor, 1996).4 Behaviors of the Ultraorthodox Parties and Politicians Prominent among the various events that were used to catalyze reform were those that focused on behaviors of the ultraorthodox parties and politicians: budget politics and ultraorthodox demands for special funds for their institutions; statements of ultraorthodox leaders and representatives concerning

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

121

their opinions on the nonreligious public; initiatives for religious legislation; and irregularities in the budgets of religious institutions and ministries held by ultraorthodox politicians. Reformers used such events as a “proof” of the pressing need to check the power of the ultraorthodox parties. Direct elections of the PM, they argued, would achieve this goal through neutralizing the importance of the pivotal position that these parties had captured. Budget Politics. In March 1991, for example, in an attempt to revive interest in the reform, pressure groups focused their campaign on the claim that reform adoption would thwart the ultraorthodox parties’ attempts at “blackmail” and “robbing the state coffers” (Yedioth Aharonoth, March 29, 1991). The link that this campaign made between reform and ultraorthodox financial demands was used in the Knesset deliberations on the issue of speeding up the reform legislation. The January 1992 first reading deliberations on the reform bill took place immediately after the Knesset finished its deliberations on the budget. Ultraorthodox behavior—which resulted in a delay in the approval of the budget—were used by politicians as “proof” of the need for reform, as well as a tool for recruiting public opinion to pressure politicians to support reform (Kislev, 1991b; Strassler, 1991a,b). At the time of the prolonged discussion on the budget, MK Rubinstein was asked whether he “is totally convinced that the direct election law is crucial” and his answer was, “After the shameful blackmail scenes presented by the ultraorthodox and the Hatehiya party in the last few days, there is still room for such a question?” (Davar, January 1, 1992). Public Statements of Ultraorthodox Leaders. At the end of March 1990, less than two weeks after the Government was ousted in a no-confidence vote, an ultraorthodox mass gathering took place. The gathering raised much interest because it was predicted that Rabbi Shach—who allegedly controlled the behaviors of eight ultraorthodox MKs—would express his preference for either a Likud- or Labor-led coalition. His speech was broadcast on state television, and what became the highlight was his harsh criticism of secular Jews. The picture of an audience composed of thousands of ultraorthodox followers, listening to an elderly rabbi mumbling unclear words in Yiddish, contributed to the magnification of the event as well as the alienation of most of the public from it. Responding to Rabbi Shach’s speech, CFI chairman Uriel Reichman argued, “We are witnessing institutional corruption of the most disgusting kind. The day before yesterday we saw what kind of minority rules us. They preach for the exile of and smear those who established this state” (Ma’ariv, March 28, 1990). The feeling that this event demanded a response led two citizens to begin a hunger strike near the Knesset, an act that later developed into a mass public protest. The speech evidently left a lasting

122

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

impression, and Rabbi Shach became a symbol for the reformers. For example, nine months after Rabbi Shach’s speech, on the eve of Labor’s central committee gathering that was to decide on its stand on reform, the reformist pressure groups published an ad with a picture of Rabbi Shach across from a picture of pro-reform demonstrators that asked, “Who will elect Israel’s PM?” (Ma’ariv, December 23, 1990).5 Religious Legislation and Financial Irregularities. Reformers used Likud’s willingness to promote religious legislation (such as the ban on public transportation on the Sabbath and legislation against selling nonkosher meat) in exchange for Agudat Yisrael’s joining the Likud-led coalition to reemphasize the need for reform. Rubinstein (1990j), for example, argued that this agreement was proof of the problematic nature of the system, in which a majority votes to support laws which the majority opposes and even expressed the awkward (but magnifying) claim, “I do not know of any additional parliament in which such an absurdity exists.” Police investigations of corruption allegations against ultraorthodox politicians were also used as proof of the need to adopt direct elections as a solution to the dependence of the large parties on those parties that saw public financing as a “milking cow” (Kislev, 1991a). Events that focused on the behavior of ultraorthodox parties and politicians were exploited to magnify the criticism of what was presented and perceived as their disproportional power. On several occasions, pressure groups and MKs succeeded in channeling this criticism in the direction of reform, which they presented as the solution to the “ultraorthodox problem:” to the demands of American Jews to restrain ultraorthodox power in order to block their initiative for amending the Law of Return; to the fears of secular Jews from religious legislation; to the anger of the Zionist public at the exemption of young ultraorthodox men from military conscription; and to the harsh criticism of the way that public money was transferred to ultraorthodox religious institutions. Additional Events Reformers tried to link other events to the need for reform and sought to use them to mobilize public support. They claimed that the failure of the Government in the absorption of a large wave of new immigrants from the former USSR was proof that Israel’s government, in its existing structure, was unable to implement its governing role even when it faced a consensual Zionist mission. They argued that only direct election would enable government to be effective in its policy decisions and implementation (Netanyahu, 1990c; Rubinstein, 1991). Even events that were directly linked to the legislation of reform served as “evidence” of the need for it. For example, MK Rubinstein (1992) argued:

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

123

The truth is that never was the need for government reform so apparent as in these days of struggle over the bill that was meant to start and carry out such a reform. Here a reform is presented, which a majority of the public supports, which until recently most of the Knesset supported, and it is defeated by anti-democratic plots, by attempts to “buy” MKs and by imperatives that come from Bnai Brak [from the ultraorthodox leadership]. Do we need any stronger evidence to show that the current system humiliates the legislature and together with it the entire Israeli democracy?

At the end of 1990, the CFI tried to link reform to the main issues that were on the agenda at that time. In its ads, it argued that reform would allow the PM and his cabinet to effectively address the “Gulf Crisis,” the ongoing Palestinian uprising, and problems in absorption and housing policies. Independence Day celebrations were also used as a call for gatherings, in an attempt to exploit their status as national holidays as well as nonpartisan consensual dates. As a continuation of its presentation of a draft constitution as a gift to the country on its fortieth anniversary, the CFI tried to use the forty-first anniversary to press for electoral reform. Citizens were also called on to spend Israel’s forty-second anniversary protesting near the Knesset (Bechor, 1996). Reformers also exploited memories from past events (e.g., see Kadish, 1991a). Unlike during the Stinky Trick era, when many actively joined the call for reform, at other times these links were better used as tools to legitimize the pressure groups’ claims that they represented the public interest and sustain (passive) public support than for active recruitment. Events were also used in the intraparty context. For example, Benjamin Netanyahu (1990a), in an address to Likud members, used the “Weizman affair”—the firing of Minister Ezer Weizman at the end of 1989 after he spoke with PLO personal, and his subsequent forced return to Government—as proof that reform was necessary. Netanyahu claimed that a directly elected PM would be able to nominate ministers and make policy without having to respond to partisan pressures, which originate in coalition blackmail power. The exploitation of events especially helped reformers in overcoming the obstacle of a minority veto—the ability of small, but crucial, coalition partners to block a reform that enjoys majority support. Certain events (coalition crisis, election eve) were used to decrease the impact of coalition pressures vis-à-vis increasing extraparliamentary pressure. In the politics of reform of 1990–1992, events were not merely a wave that reformers were trying to catch. Pressure groups and their allies used events to emphasize their claim that a deep “crisis” existed; they focused the attention of observers on certain features of these events that were linked to their “solution.” Events were used as constant and clear evidence of the need for change, and helped to sustain and increase pressure for reform.

124

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

THE PLACE OF BACKGROUND FACTO RS IN THE ANALYSIS

After giving background factors—long-term developments and events—their fair status in the framework for analysis, it is time to reassess their explanatory power. It is obvious that in a system that functions well (and is perceived as such) there will be less willingness and pressure to adopt reform, and that in a system that malfunctions (and is seen as such) there will be more motivation to seriously consider the possibility of reform. However, these factors are far from being sufficient to explain success in promoting reform. The first chapter addressed these limitations in general. In this section, these limitations will be reconsidered in the particular context of government system reform to further evaluate the status of background factors in analyzing the politics of reform. First, we saw that many long-term developments seemed to confirm a series of problems in the Israeli political system: party system change that gave small and extremist (in terms of religious attitudes) parties disproportional bargaining power; an overburdened and dysfunctional political system; changes in public perception of the political system; accumulated experience that seemed to show that the problem was not the leaders, but the system. The catalyzing events seemed to be the symptoms of these problems. All of them together could be perceived as a “crisis,” especially in times like the Stinky Trick era. Yet all of them combined are far from being similar in scale to the background factors used to explain electoral reforms in Europe in the first decades of the twentieth century. These developments included the widening of the electorate and the rise of the Socialist parties, developments that seemed to pose an immediate threat to the old elites. The elites were threatened to such an extent that they had to choose between power sharing (through adopting PR systems) and a serious risk of giving the Socialists (with their new voters) complete control of Government (by allowing them to enjoy the possibility of earning a manufactured majority). Second, it should be acknowledged that there is a tendency when studying reform (and political change in general) to look for those indicators that prove that the system malfunctions. Indeed, some indicators from 1988–1992, which could have been used for the purpose of demonstrating that the ground was ready for reform (if they signified deterioration), actually pointed to continuity, stability, and even improvement—or at least a smaller deterioration than would have been expected to indicate a “crisis.” Public dissatisfaction with multipartism is as old as the state (Institute for Public Opinion Research, 1949) and massive support for reform was seen already in the 1970s.6 Although a decrease in public trust in governmental institutions was indicated in the late 1980s, other indicators of public satisfaction with politics were stable. The level of participation in the general

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

125

elections was steady, and higher than in most other countries (Arian, 1998, pp. 206–209).7 Volatility decreased from the time of the 1977 and 1981 elections and stabilized in the 1980s (Kenig, Rahat, & Hazan, 2005). Economic indicators, such as GDP (overall and per capita), do not point to any particularly dramatic development that could create public pressure or serious considerations of the need for overall reform in 1988–1992. Unemployment increased around 1990, but it reached levels that were quite common in the West at the time, while hyperinflation was actually halted in 1986 and stabilized at about 20 percent, a relatively low level compared to the beginning of the 1980s (Central Bureau of Statistics 1996, pp. 166, 167, 248, 285). Although trust in public institutions decreased between 1987 and 1990 (Peres & Yuchtman-Yaar, 1992, pp. 21–23), it was quite similar to that of other Western democracies, where such a reform was not adopted. Moreover, trust in governmental institutions increased in 1991 (ibid., pp. 47–50), as the struggle for reform went on. Arian and Amir (1997) presented a series of indicators of the attitudes of Israeli citizens toward the political system. From a cross-national comparative perspective, they characterized Israel as having a relatively higher level of participation in elections, high levels of political knowledge, and a moderate level of satisfaction from democracy. Political efficacy levels were found to be low and decreased in the years when reform was promoted; yet it reached its lowest levels in the 1970s, not in 1988–1992. The only indicator in the whole set that shows a continuous decline in citizens’ perceptions of politics was that of the share of citizens who declared their membership in political parties. In 1969, 18 percent of the citizens said they were members of a political party; in 1981, 10 percent; and in 1990, only 8 percent. Such a decrease can be interpreted as an expression of growing alienation from the parties and even the system; but it is far from being decisive evidence of a “crisis of legitimacy” against all other measures. Arian and Amir (1997, p. 40) captured reality well in describing the picture that arose from this data as “complex and ambivalent.” This series of long-term developments does point to the existence of functioning problems that could facilitate support for reform. But it is hard to claim that at the beginning of the 1990s a political crisis was at its peak or that there was an unprecedented crisis of legitimacy or an extraordinary socioeconomic crisis. From a cross-national comparative perspective, the Israeli political system was actually characterized as stable with a strong executive, who held significant power in terms of policy-making vis-à-vis the Knesset (Brichta, 1998; Brichta & Zalmanovitch, 1986). However, the perception of stability as something subjective—a feeling rather than a situation based on hard, comparative indicators—could better explain its role in the politics of reform. Subjectivity allows for more freedom in diagnosing a “problem,” magnifying it, and linking

126

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

it to the selected “solution” (reform). A good example can be found in the response of one of the initiators of reform to claims about the relative stability of the Israeli political system: “Government duration does not determine stability. Stability exists when there is a feeling of stability, and here we have internal struggles, crises and speculations about Government duration” (Lynn, 1992a, p. 167). As we saw, reformers not only exploited the “feeling of crisis,” but contributed their share to its diagnosis and magnification. Third, even if long-term developments and events facilitated the movement toward reform, the existence of the same conditions as in the past, “crises” in similar and even higher magnitude, did not necessarily lead to institutional reform. Even if we are careful enough not to suggest a deterministic linkage, a suspicion still exists that the weight of background factors in the explanation can be overstated. Although party system change increased the bargaining power and demands of the religious parties, the concern of “religious blackmailing” was not new. A look at the history of coalition politics shows that the price set by religious partners was not seen as high by coalition builders, and that they were the preferred partners even when there were other options. While high levels of public dissatisfaction may have helped promote reform initiatives in certain years, these levels were high also in years when there was no progress.8 Even if some events served as catalysts, the existence of similar conditions in the past did not lead to reform. For example, Israel experienced coalition crises from its very beginning (Korn & Shapira, 1997). A quite continuous rhythm of two Governments per Knesset term continued until 1996. These coalition crises were sometimes even linked to the demand for electoral reform. Yet, the electoral system remained the same. Finally, there is no necessary link between the direction of reform (a change of regime structure) and its content (the direct election of the PM), and the background factors. The specific reform can be seen as only one of many responses to the long-term developments and their immediate expressions as catalyzing events. The precedent of reform in local government helped create such a link. Yet even this association was far from being selfevident, as this precedent was actually first used to promote electoral reform. Moreover, many years had passed since the attempt to reform local government began and until this idea was raised (and ultimately adopted) as a solution to problems at the national level. Doron (1990b) identified two culprits that the public considered responsible for the crisis: the small parties that negated the possibility of establishing a one-party Government and the rule that the Government needs Knesset majority support to promote policy. The regime structure was associated with many problems Israel faced from the mid-1980s: a lack of government accountability; politicization of public administration; excessive government involvement in the economy and society; religious coercion; an inability to

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

127

move toward a peace agreement. Bear in mind, though, that these culprits were not just “identified,” but that there were those who “helped” in their identification and pointed in their direction. Moreover, these culprits existed beforehand and were part of everyday life for years of coalition politics. The various possible links between these perceived problems and solutions can be found in the CLJC deliberations of May 8, 1990, that addressed the different possibilities for reform of the political system. These discussions took place in the shadow of the Stinky Trick. As a response to the public outcry for change, MKs raised numerous proposals for legislation that would help solve the “apparent” problems: a bill of rights; ethical laws to restrict MKs’ behaviors; an increase of the electoral threshold; electoral reform; and government system reform. Some of these ideas were pushed aside and Chairman Uriel Lynn—in cooperation with other initiators of government system reform bills—channeled the committee’s activity toward government system reform. This happened at the same time that alternatives, such as the old idea of electoral reform, were still being discussed in other forums, and initiatives to establish an independent committee of experts that would recommend which reform or reforms to adopt were being considered. The link between the solution (direct election of the PM) and the background factors was mainly a creation of the reformers. They used their great skill, as well as their allies inside the Knesset and their extensive resources, to highlight particular problems of the political system and channel dissatisfaction in the direction of the government system reform “solution” rather than any other alternative. GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFO RM UP TO THE LATE 1980s: AN IDEA WITH NO FOLLOWERS

Before the late 1980s, electoral reform was seriously considered a solution to many of the problems previously discussed. At the same time, various ideas about government system reform, whether moderate or radical, were not really taken into account by the decision-makers. A survey of the pre-1988 period reveals that there were individual politicians and academics who considered government system reform. But no serious attempt was made to promote these ideas until the late 1980s.9 Before 1988, most of the initiatives that proposed changing the relationship between the executive and the legislative branches, the PM and his ministers, and reassessing the authority of the president were made under the assumption that the parliamentary framework would be preserved. The few references to the possibility of government system reform were, at best, attempts to raise an idea in order to assess its viability. Even those who advanced such ideas (including such prominent figures as PM Rabin in 1974–1977) did not see much purpose in investing resources in promoting

128

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

them. Thus, the concept of government system reform was not “new” in the sense that it was not raised before 1988, but had not been taken seriously and had no chance of being adopted. The promoters of reform were important less in terms of coming up with the original idea, but rather in terms of transforming it from an abstract idea with no followers into a reform with substantial support, one that would induce others to invest resources in its promotion. If it was not for these promoters, this idea would have remained wishful thinking, and no one would even bother seeking its origins. In retrospect, it can be argued that some signs of increased interest in government system reform surfaced at the beginning and mid-1980s. But this interest was too vague for this option to be any more viable than, say, the idea of establishing a second chamber. Abba Eban, a veteran politician, claimed, “There has been no serious appeal against the idea that the parliamentary principle is an inseparable part of the Israeli experience” (Eban, 1985, p. ix). In a paper published in 1986, Yanai and Aronson (1986, p. 73) claimed that in Israel there is no “real ideological-regimental [alternative], as there is in France.” In an updated epilogue to a chapter published in 1988, Gutmann (1988, p. 303) related to the possibility of replacing the parliamentary system with a presidential one, either the French or American version, claiming, “other than a very few intellectuals and even fewer politicians, there seems very little enthusiasm for such a change of regime.” During the discussion on electoral reform in the Knesset in mid-1988, the idea of government system reform—already raised by the CFI (although not as a separate initiative)— was mentioned by only a few MKs. This brief overview further validates the argument against overstating the role of background factors in explaining reform. It points out that in the past, when difficult problems arose—problems sometimes quite similar to those of the late 1980s—similar solutions—such as initiatives to reform the system of government—were raised. Until the end of the 1980s, though, there was no one seriously and skillfully dedicated to promoting these initiatives and investing the necessary effort to link the problems with this specific solution. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE REFO RM PROPOSAL

The need for wide consent on reform content was avoided in the first stages of legislation when reformers agreed to mutually support each others’ initiatives for all four different versions of direct election of the PM and, in addition, for the competing initiative for the adoption of a “PM Government.” This agreement enabled reformers to exploit the window of opportunity, opened at the time of the Stinky Trick, to promote legislation as much as possible when there were disagreements on content. At later stages, in order to complete the reform move, reformers would have to gain majority support for

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

129

one specific version. The “mixed” nature of the reform proposal proved especially helpful in achieving this goal. Reformers suggested adopting a “mixed” multifaceted system that would combine the old (a parliamentary system in which the PM needs the confidence of MPs who are elected through a PR electoral system) with the new (direct majoritarian election of the PM). This allowed them to present different faces of reform to those with different perceptions of the ideal structure of regime and to those with different, sometimes contradicting, interests. The mix contained a real foundation of compromise between the status quo and reform, but it was also flexible enough to enable shrewd and aggressive reform agents to “sell” different, and even contradicting, versions of the anticipated consequences of reform. These sold particularly well when the “customers” had plenty of other good reasons to “purchase,” given the huge public pressure for change and a clear immediate incentive to support it—the expected electoral rewards. The two names of the proposed reform expressed its two faces. One, the direct election of the PM, was a reductionist and clearer label that implied that, after all, it was only a change in the way the PM was to be elected. The second, government system reform, was a name that implied a more general and radical change, but was more ambiguous in its content and could refer to various versions of reform. The mix let reformers claim that the traditional element of inclusion— through PR in Knesset elections—would be preserved, while governability—a “traditional” problem—would be improved. Reformers even used “tradition” to promote their initiative, to answer the claim that their proposed system had never been tried before. They argued that the special mix was formulated especially to suit the unique political tradition of Israel (see chapter seven). Reform was presented to the MKs as a trade-off deal that would profit most of them. In return for giving up the selection of the PM, they would gain more power to legislate and scrutinize Government.10 Furthermore, since a large majority of MKs did not belong to parties that captured the pivotal position, it seemed like a very low price. Indeed, the hard core of opponents was mainly composed of MKs from the pivotal parties. The last version of the reform bill—in determining that the Government would stand for a vote of investiture immediately after its establishment and giving the Knesset the power to oust the Government by absolute rather than supermajority— appeared to preserve Government dependence on the confidence of the Knesset. Thus, the proposal seemed to respond to extraparliamentary demands at the same time that it preserved the powers of most of the MKs, and even enhanced them. Presenting direct election of the PM as a substitute for Knesset electoral reform helped reinforce the claim that reform dealt only with the PM, and

130

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

that party representation—and therefore also the personal fates of the candidates in the closed-list system—would not be affected (Doron, 1996). Netanyahu (1990b) claimed: “The new system will not hurt the proportional representation of the different factions in the Knesset. On the contrary, it solves the contradiction between the need for stable Government and the will to maximally represent all currents of Israeli society.” The CFI explained that “On the one hand, it [the reform] will preserve the existing proportionality and thus will not hurt minority groups—an offense that exist in all majoritarian-district systems, and even proportional district systems. On the other hand, it prevents a situation in which there is a PM who is not acceptable to a decisive majority of the population” (Har Zahav, 1990, p. 9). MK Chaim Ramon argued that the pressure for electoral reform, which would surely hurt some parties, would decrease: “I address those who see themselves as holders of the balance [MKs from the pivotal parties]: Give up some of your power; give up some of your maneuvering ability. Because if you do not willingly give up, you will suffer a larger blow in the future; and the idea of PR will also be severely damaged because it is impossible to survive with this system” (Twelfth Knesset Records, May 15, 1990). Moreover, the initiative for “PM Government,” which represented an alternative to direct election of the PM, clearly threatened the small parties. Rejecting the direct election of the PM could be seen as a dangerous stand that could lead to the rebirth of this proposal and its promotion by both large parties. It seemed clear who would win and who would lose from electoral reform and the “PM Government” initiative. On the other hand, the anticipated consequences of direct election of the PM were debatable, so it was possible to present it as “minimalist” and “traditional” when it served the cause. Sternhell (1990a)—a harsh critic of the reform initiative—explained that the initiative for adopting a bill of rights was abandoned due to coalition pressures; electoral reform was abandoned because it threatened the political future of many MKs. Direct election, on the other hand, was an alternative that seemed to suit their interests. Until now those politicians who protected themselves were successful. But all are aware of the fact that it is impossible to do nothing. The allocation of political bribes has increased to levels that require some action. Therefore, so many found direct election of the PM so appealing. On the one hand, this is a real reform: no one can claim that public protest was ignored. On the other hand, this is a reform that does not affect at all the comfort and future of the apparatchiks themselves. No politician pays the price of such a huge change, no MK put his status in jeopardy, and no party faces the choice between unifying with close forces and disappearing.

Disputes arose over the anticipated consequences of reform. An important disagreement was on the effect of voting with two separate ballots on the

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

131

electoral power of large versus small parties. There were those—especially among reform opponents—who claimed that it would lead to a decrease in the representation of the large parties and an increase in the representation of the small parties. When voters are able to determine the predominant character of the Government by electing the PM, they argued, they will feel freer to vote for a small party that represents interests closer to their own (Diskin & Diskin, 1991; Peres, 1990). This claim was especially popular among opponents of reform from the large parties. Likud MK Chaim Corfo claimed: The will of those who wish to vote for a small party is curbed today, to a large degree, because of the fear that this vote might bring with it the election of a PM they do not want. Under this [reformed] system this fear will completely disappear and everyone will be able to fulfill his obligation by voting for his desired PM, while he can vote for the party closest to his heart. This will find its expression especially among those who tend to vote for ethnic lists such as Shas. Thus, Likud faction in the Knesset will be weakened to a larger degree, whether a PM from its ranks is elected or not. [boldface in original]11

Reform opponents in Labor raised a similar claim: Direct election of the PM will create an over-fractionalization of parties in the Knesset, from the left as well as from the right. This system will extremely damage Labor’s representation in the Knesset. Many voters who belong to the center-left camp will vote for Labor’s candidate for Prime Minister, but in the Knesset election they will vote in a way that will precisely reflect their preferences, for one of the small parties that possesses a sharper color. This way Labor will lose many voters who will move their votes to Shinui, Ratz and Mapam.12

In contrast, reform supporters from the small parties used this claim to recruit support within their parties (see, e.g., Hazofeh, December 21, 1990). Some reform supporters and columnists argued that reform would strengthen the large parties. They claimed that voters would want to strengthen their preferred candidate for PM—who will naturally be from a large party—and thus will vote for his or her party (CFI, 1991; Schnitzer, 1991; Tsiddon, 1991–1992). Some even claimed that reform would save the large parties from a continuing erosion of their strength, which began in the 1984 elections and continued in 1988 (see, e.g., Magen, 1991). MK Shevach Weiss (Twelfth Knesset Records, January 6, 1992) argued that the French case was proof that a move to direct election of the head of the executive actually leads to a decrease in the number of parties. In a publication of CFI (1991) it was argued that the experience with direct election of mayors showed that a mayor who wins a high majority usually pulls his party with him.13 Reform supporters from Likud claimed that

132

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

Another argument is that the power of the Likud Knesset faction will decrease because there will be voters who will prefer to split their vote. They will vote for Likud’s candidate for PM and for another list in the Knesset elections. This claim is not correct. In every place in the world where direct election is customary, the winning candidate attracts many votes to his party. Experience teaches that actually those small parties that cannot present a candidate for PM lose parliamentary power in the elections. [boldface in original]14

It is a mystery to which “place in the world where direct election is customary” these Likud MKs refer, yet such “factual” and decisive claims contributed to blurring projections of the political consequences of using two separate ballots. It is safe to assume that most of those who were involved in the politics of reform did not hurry to verify the reformers “factual” claims. The MKs faced a plethora of contradicting claims. Both predictions had promoters from small and large parties; both sides had their own “evidence” to back up their assertions. This resulted in ambiguity. One of the ways to face it was, naturally, to present a middle way. The CFI chairman, who preferred not to alienate reform supporters from either small or large parties, answered a question on the issue in an interview to the press, claiming: “There will be some split, but the attraction of the PM candidates, who will presumably be the leaders of the two large parties, will also pull votes from the small parties” (Inbal, 1991, p. 17). The CFI published an ad with the claim that the experience with direct elections for mayors confirmed that voters will tend to strengthen the party of the PM candidate they support, but nevertheless took care to mention that it would still be possible to vote for the small parties (Yedioth Aharonoth, November 8, 1991). This middle-of-the-road version only strengthened the feeling that, in the end, individual MKs and parties would not be affected by the reform. This ambiguity made it possible to maneuver and recruit support from the politicians and supporters of both large and small parties by presenting each with a version of a forecast that suited their interests. Toward the end of 1991—at the time when the second reading of the bill was growing closer—the prediction that reform would lead to a Labor victory if Rabin were selected as chairman became stronger. This prediction was based on opinion polls indicating a public preference of Rabin over Shamir. To counter these polls, right-wing supporters of reform presented other polls, claiming: “According to our information and updated opinion polls it is apparent that if a PM is directly and personally elected in November 1992, our PM, Yitzhak Shamir, will have a personal advantage over Peres and Yitzhak Rabin” [boldface in original].15 Prior to the second reading, in January 1992, many MKs accepted the forecast of a Rabin victory. By the time of the last reading in March 1992, this prediction lost its relevance as the implementation of reform was delayed until after the next elections.

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

133

Another central issue in the debate was the prediction that reform would serve the left in the long run because the new system would hand the Labor candidate for PM all of the Arab votes. In contrast, under the established system those votes that went to the “Arab,” left-wing non-Zionist parties, which were not seen as legitimate coalition partners, were lost for Labor. It was also felt that since the religious vote was not connected to any camp, the rabbis would be able to call on their followers to vote for the Left candidate. As the left block was larger than the right block, even the abstention of religious voters would help it (Shapira, 1996). A general acceptance of this prediction led to an increase in support for reform from the left. Yosef Sarid, a prominent figure in the Zionist left, voiced his support for reform, although with reservations, because he figured it would increase the chances of the left bloc acquiring a majority (Ben Porat, 1997). In the meeting of Labor’s central committee on December 23, 1990, that was to decide the party’s stand on reform, MK Ramon presented the optimal scenario for Labor. He argued that reform would qualify Arab votes by mixing them with all other votes; that unlike the present system, when all of the religious parties’ MKs support Likud, there will be 10,000–20,000 religious voters who will support the Labor candidate for PM.16 There were those on the left who refuted this prediction. Some were worried that such a system would facilitate the rise of a populist, antidemocratic hawkish leader, an image translated by the left into the figure of Ariel Sharon (Davar, editorial, October 3, 1991; Shpinner, 1991). Labor veteran Chaim Tzadok (1990) argued that Likud would be rewarded by the reformed system. He claimed that the results of the Stinky Trick demonstrated that the ultraorthodox public has a strong right-wing tendency and that its more moderate leaders, who know this, preferred not to test their community’s obedience and risk their status, so they would eventually support the Likud candidate. In addition, addressing the concerns of Arab voters could cost Labor Jewish support, and there was no assurance that the Arabs would support a Zionist candidate—they might even boycott the elections. Among the non-Zionist parties and the Arab MKs no agreement existed on the expected effect of reform on the power of Arab voters. Some argued that the law would empower the Arab voters by giving them the right to select the PM. Others claimed that most Arab votes went to the left bloc anyway, directly and indirectly supporting the Labor government, so direct election of the PM would not mean a change. Right-wing opponents of reform used claims about the empowerment of the Arab vote as a tool to mobilize opposition to reform (Corfo, 1991a). Sometimes these arguments were mixed with ultranationalistic slogans. Likud Minister Gideon Pat was quoted, for example, as saying, “If the government

134

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

system is reformed, PLO Arabs will elect the PM” (Ha’aretz, December 16, 1991). In a more moderate style, Likud MK Uzi Landau wrote in a letter addressed to the members of the party’s central committee: A key to the enemies of the state to determine who will be the PM The vast majority of the Arab public is loyal to the state; its share in the population is 19%, and among voters approximately 12%. But within it, a small dangerous minority of fundamentalist nationalists, who wish to destroy the state, is arising and growing stronger. Until today they had no impact on determining the PM, as Zionist parties refrained from sitting in a coalition with Arab anti-Zionist parties. But in the direct election system they will be able to vote and will be pivotal; and thus we will let our enemies, with our own hands, decide who will be our PM, whose function is to promote Zionism.17

MK Corfo put forth a series of claims with a nationalistic flavor. He argued that “If it [reform] is adopted, it will return Labor to Government through the backdoor,” which will harm Israel as “the inevitable consequence will be the establishment of PLO-ist state in the Land of Israel!”18 He claimed that the reform originated in Labor, and that now Labor sees this reform as the only way to return to power. First, the Labor candidate would have an advantage of 15 percent, by getting the votes of the Arab citizens who hoped that their support would lead to the establishment of a Palestinian state. In contrast, under the existing system, the fact that many Arabs vote for small leftist parties helps the right because it improves Likud’s chances of becoming the largest single faction; direct election, he claimed, will channel all these votes to Labor candidate. Second, he claimed that Likud cannot count on ultraorthodox votes. Their leaders had expressed leftist stands and their obedient voters will do as they are told. He mentioned that these parties had been in coalitions with Mapai/Labor in the past, with no sign of protest from their voters. It can thus be concluded that their votes cannot be counted as the Likud candidate’s votes; for a high price, Labor would be able to buy the votes of the ultraorthodox.19 Another Likud MK who opposed reform used similar arguments and claimed that he “is ready to admit that in the face of the dangers inherent in the direct election system—safeguarding the Greater Land of Israel is higher in my list of priorities than the reform of the current system” (Kaufman, 1991, p. 12). The opinion that reform would be better for the left in the long run gained greater acceptance toward the end of 1991 among MKs from both the right and the left, and influenced their positions on the issue. Yet a number of right-wingers did not accept this prediction, which ultimately allowed the bill to pass (see, e.g., Magen, 1991). They claimed that the Arab vote should not be seen as a substantial threat. First, the Arab vote helped Labor in any case, and Labor was ready to fully exploit it in March–April 1990 to establish

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

135

a Government based on the support of these extremist parties.20 Second, they expected that religious and ultraorthodox voters would vote for the Likud candidate. Furthermore, direct election would prevent the religious leaders from taking seats that were won though the support of right-wing voters and joining a left-wing Government. Three Likud MKs who were prominent supporters of reform argued: There are those who claim that the new law will give more weight to the Arab vote (which is only 11% of the electorate) which will go to the Alignment (Labor) candidate. However, right now those parties who receive Arab votes take part in the left coalition. Reform of the system would not harm Likud—on the contrary. The most extreme voters amongst the Arabs may refrain from voting for a Jewish-Zionist candidate of the Alignment. It is no coincidence that the Arab parties harshly reject the law. Counter-balancing the Arab votes, which are given to the left in any case, there are the votes of the religious voters (15% of the electorate). A substantial majority of the religious public supports a Likud Government. [boldface in original]21

Third, right-wing reformers argued that if the Arabs showed strong support for a Labor candidate, a backlash from the Jewish public could be expected to strengthen the right. Fourth, the proportion of Arabs in the population is, in any case, very small. Lynn (1991b) argued that balancing the Muslim public, who tends to vote for Labor candidate, is the religious public, who tends to vote for Likud candidate. Today there are 3,060,000 voters. There are 272,000 Muslim voters, 9% of the electorate. On the other hand, there are 248,000 new immigrant voters who came in 1990–1991, 8% of the electorate. The conclusion: the law does not reward either one of the two large parties; the competition will be democratic and real; and the voter will directly determine who will be the PM in Israel.

Netanyahu (1990c) even argued that, in the face of immigration, the influence of Arab voters is likely to decrease: “And what about the Arab voters? Wouldn’t they decide who would be the PM in direct election of the PM? This is the semi-latent argument that motivates many in the right in their opposition to this system. Vanity of vanities! If there is demographic anxious today, it is actually to be found in the Arab sector, that sees with great concern the shrinking of its electoral power in the face of the huge stream of new immigrants to Israel.” Tsiddon (1990c, 1991–1992), an ultrahawkish MK, argued that the very preservation of Greater Israel is dependent on reform because only a working Government—rather than the current one that is busy defending its survival—can assure it. The multifaceted character of the reform also complicated the marketing of systemic arguments against it. For example, reform opponents argued

136

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

that it could open the way for a dictator, but also warned of growing fractionalization and an increase in coalition pressures. Reformers argued that these two claims were contradictory—one involves the centralization of power by a single individual and the other a high diffusion of power. One possible explanation for this is that power dispersion can create pressures and demands for centralization—as has happened in many presidential democracies that ended in collapse. It is possible to present this account in an academic forum, but to market such a complex explanation is another thing, especially when the mixed system was already marketed as one that promised good results to almost everyone.22 It is easier to recruit public support for a reform that at its core promises to give the people the power to decide who will be PM. Conversely, it is harder to market possible scenarios that suggest that those who were elected separately by two ballots can veto each other, create a deadlock, or produce unintended policy consequences. A list of the pros and cons of reform published by the IDI (Peri, 1989) illustrates much of the debate over the anticipated systemic consequences of reform. This collection of arguments was not based on a complete systemic scenario, but on differing claims concerning various elements of the system. For example, the pro-reform list suggested that direct election of the PM would strengthen collective responsibility, increase discipline, and, as a result, improve the functioning of Government. In the “cons” column, there were fears that the PM would be separated from both his party and the Knesset, resulting in possible conflict that could lead to a deadlock. These two claims are not contradictory since one alleges an improvement in functioning within the Government, while the other asserts that the Government will suffer from difficulties because of the new balance of power with the Knesset. Nevertheless, in this kind of comparison, systemic consequences are left unclear. In such a campaign-like debate, when each opponent held to a one-sided collection of claims, uncertainty could only increase because the aggregation of all claims, the systemic result, remained ambiguous. In such a confrontation, both sides enjoy equal credit for the validity of their predictions. This neutralizes any potential professional advantage of one of the sides and increases the weight of other factors, such as better financing, marketing, and propaganda. The multifaceted nature of the mixed system allowed it to garner support from people with opposing ideologies: from liberals who saw it as supporting— at least more than the existing parliamentary system—the principal of separation of powers, to authoritarians (a large part of the wider public) who expected that the reform would lead to effective rule by a single strong leader.23 Dunleavy and Margetts (1995) see the increased global exposure of citizens to the regimes of other democracies and their functioning as a partial explanation of the merging of electoral systems of the world and the increased adoption of mixed systems. The Israeli case demonstrates that

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

137

global influences are indirect, since before penetrating the national agenda they first passed through parochial and interest-driven filters. The reformers used anti-PR polemics from pre-1970s political science to support their cause (Taagepera & Shugart, 1989), while opponents based their claims on the approaches that became dominant in the 1980s and 1990s, which saw parliamentarism as superior to presidentialism (Hazan, 1996). Reformers successfully structured the discourse so it would not expose the weaknesses of their claim. Most reformers refused to refer to the experiences of countries that were not established democracies. Rubinstein (protocols of the CLJC, June 10, 1990, p. 19), for example, refused to see the numerous examples of the collapse of non-Western presidential regimes as a warning sign and argued, “Latin America is not an example of the failure of presidentialism, but rather the failure of the democratic system.”24 Weiss (Twelfth Knesset Records, January 7, 1992), and similarly Rubinstein (1990e), limited their references to Western regimes and could thus claim that, historically, presidential regimes did not led to dictatorship while parliamentary regimes like Weimar and the French Fourth Republic suffered the harshest crises.25 This limited frame of reference allowed reformers to ignore worldwide experience that is full of examples of the collapse of presidential regimes. In addition, their “evidence” was based on two presidential regimes (including the French Fifth Republic, which actually has a semipresidential regime) as opposed to twenty parliamentary democracies. This narrowed frame of reference was not limited solely to the group of established democracies. Often, reformers referred not to small fractionalized democracies like Israel, but rather to “models”—essentially British and German parliamentarism versus U.S. and French presidentialism. Thus, the democratic world was represented as one in which there was parity between the two regime types, rather than twenty stable parliamentary democracies versus two stable presidential democracies. Labor MK Yaacobi, for example, in an address to members of his party’s central committee, argued that there are those who ask, “What is this original reform proposal?” Dear friends, you may not be aware of it. Britain has its own original system. France has its own original system. The U.S. has its own original system. Germany has its own original system. Israel has many original things of its own. And if it fits its democratic and political needs, it can fix the defects with its own original repairs.26

Although reformers admitted that this reform proposal suggested the establishment of a unique regime structure, they often used examples of the functioning of U.S. and French democracies in Knesset debates, newspaper columns, and propaganda materials. In the framework of the debate surrounding which models to follow, British, American, German, and French systems served as points of reference for the small and fractionalized Israeli democracy. Each of these

138

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

cases, it should be recalled, represents a significantly different model; only one, the German, represents a relatively widespread parliamentary-PR regime. In this narrowed framework, the collapse of the Weimar Republic and the French Third and Fourth Republics, used as examples of the pure parliamentary model, served as historic proof of the failure of parliamentary PR regimes.27 To the claim, “There is no similar system in the world [to the one recommended],” the CFI (1991, p. 8) responded, “Of course there is not, because the system is originated in local political culture and traditions.”28 They even extolled this uniqueness as a virtue, arguing, “The American, French and German constitutions were activated successfully because they were not a copy of a similar system but created a new governmental order that fits the conditions of their countries” (ibid.). Pro-reform Labor MK David Libai argued that there is no one system in the democratic world identical or similar to another. Each state has it nuances. The U.S. has precedents in its own Constitution. What was in England had no precedent. England is not similar to the U.S. and France, and not to Italy and not to Finland. . . . France lived with its defects and tried to fix them. The same thing was done here.29

Thus, the fact that other countries that are small and more like Israel use the parliamentary government system with the PR electoral system, and that they even dared to imitate each other, was pushed aside by reducing the discourse to models (or archetypes) and by claiming that there is no real value to cross-national comparison. The view that most comperativists have of parliamentary regimes as more stable and functional than presidential regimes also did not enter the public debate.30 The attempts of some political scientists to contribute this information to the debate failed in the face of the public’s appeal for direct elections, along with the reformers’ great resources and skillful use of marketing techniques. Reform proponents had more resources than reform opponents, they had the upper hand in the marketing of reform, and they took care to present it based on their perspective. Information was used selectively for the sake of winning the battle for public opinion and, through it, the necessary support of the politicians. In essence, the systemic justification for adopting direct election of the PM was based on knowledge acquired by the reformers in the 1960s and 1970s as well as biased observations (mainly non-academic) of the world in the 1980s and 1990s. For most of the public and the politicians, that was enough. There are signs that the nature of the debate was also influenced by the different compositions of the camps of opponents and proponents. These forces employed different vocabularies and held substantially different views in their analysis of the empirical reality of both Israeli and world regimes. One source for such differences was professional affiliation. The main speakers against reform were political scientists; the main proponents for reform were lawyers and legal scholars.

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

139

MK Rubinstein (1987, 1990a), a prominent law professor, defined Israel’s government as an “assembly regime”—a “mini-Knesset” or “mini parliament” in his words. In contrast, Brichta (1998), a political scientist, called Israel a parliamentary regime in which the PM is primus inter pares. Amir (1997), another political scientist, argued that Israel’s regime had developed gradually to the point where the PM was first above equals. The French Third and Fourth Republics—the archetypes for an assembly regime—were used as a paradigm for Israel’s regime by pro-reform MK Tsiddon (1989)—who spent some time in France in the 1950s as part of his air force service. At the same time, political scientists Brichta and Zalmanovitch (1986) argued that while a strong legislature and a weak executive indeed characterized the French Fourth Republic, in Israel the situation was the opposite. Different interpretations were also apparent in references to the case of the Weimar Republic. Zimmerman (1990)—a scholar of German history—argued that adopting direct elections would make Israel quite similar to the Weimar Republic. Prominent political scientists Shugart and Carey (1992) indeed argued that Weimar was a hybrid: presidential parliamentarism. Rubinstein (1990i) challenged this stance, claiming that Weimar was purely parliamentary and its president merely a head of state with emergency powers. The typical perception of political scientists—which originates from the impact of the functional approach—is that regime institutions in a democracy are tools for the aggregation of interests and values into certain compromises that are expressed through policy decisions. From this perspective, a parliamentary regime enables the proper functioning of government as interest aggregation is conducted, stage by stage, from the bottom to the top: from citizens to parties; from parties to the legislature; from the legislature to the Government. Direct election damages this structure as it bypasses both party and parliament. It creates two competing centers of power—the PM and the Knesset—that are expected, according to this perception, to engage in conflict to the point of possible deadlock. Most political scientists held the view that the American presidential regime, which was a model for the reformers, was founded to restrain the executive rather than to make it powerful and effective. At the same time that the president is considered safe in his post and practically irremovable, he does not necessarily represent effective and responsible leadership. The main characteristics of a successful president are actually those that the reformers in Israel associated with the Israeli PR-parliamentary system—the ability to convince, negotiate, and compromise (Brichta & Zalmanovitch, 1986). In contrast to reform supporters’ claims (Susser, 1989), Yehezkel Dror, a political scientist, argued that direct election combined the weaknesses of both systems rather than their advantages. He argued that governability would be expected to decrease, as the two branches would tend to veto each other.31 A. Diskin and H. Diskin (1991, p. 2) pointed out the ambiguity in the goals of the reformers, claiming:

140

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

The course of reform is unclear. As some of those suggesting it claim (according to their own statements) a relative strengthening of the legislative branch, at the same time they and others claim a relative strengthening of the PM and the executive branch. There are those who believe the two goals are not contradictory, and these two tendencies are actually expressed in the bill.

Another difference was the perception of the division of powers. The perspective of the reformers was that a division of powers is the basis for democracy, and that it is expressed through a functional division. Distinguishing between different functions in Knesset activities led reformers to argue that both branches would be strengthened, not one at the expense of the other. Israel’s parliamentary regime was presented as one in which governmental functions were mixed together.32 Direct election was supposed to strengthen the functions that each branch was expected to perform. Under the title “Current Reality and Its Defects,” CFI (1987, p. 2) claimed in the first paragraph: “Parliamentary government requires discipline, partnership and responsibility. These traits are missing from Israeli government. Even the most talented PM cannot control a system where each minister grabs in a different direction and each party splinter activates blackmail tools.” The third paragraph in the same section argued: “Instead of the Knesset scrutinizing Government, Government controls it (the Knesset) today through coalition discipline. Government is frequently a prisoner of small marginal parties.” From this perspective, the balance of power within the Government should change to reward the PM, but the Knesset should be more independent so that it can balance Government policy. Reform was supposed to take away the Knesset’s impact on PM selection and most of its influence on Government survival, at the same time increasing its ability to legislate and scrutinize independently. Some reformers held a managerial approach, a worldview that political scientists usually criticize as undemocratic. From this perspective, Government was seen as a board of directors, headed by a PM who is the chairperson. Two reform initiators and promoters, Lynn and Tsiddon, both coming from backgrounds in public and private management, expressed such views. When Lynn presented his bill in the Knesset, he described the regime’s defects as similar to “a large business that lacks minimal management ability” (Twelfth Knesset Records, May 15, 1990). In his explanation for his bill, Tsiddon expressed a managerial and antipolitical approach. He diagnosed the problems in government as a result of overpoliticization, which creates an overburdened economy and problems of management. His version of reform was one that would allow professionals to make managerial-professional decisions, unbiased by what he labeled narrow partisan considerations. When Tsiddon presented his bill in the Knesset, he defined the problem with the

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

141

regime as stemming from the fact that the PM, as the person with the ultimate responsibility, does not have the necessary authority and tools in terms of “proper management rules that are implemented in any business, military or other organization.” He also claimed that reform was needed for the sake of “effective management of the Israeli democracy” (Twelfth Knesset Records, May 15, 1990). Tsiddon (1990a) called the government that would be established after the implementation of reform a “human resources government,” another buzzword that was taken from managerial jargon. THE EVOLUTION OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFO RM

In describing the reforms of the 1990s, Norris (1995b, p. 4) wrote, “Electoral reforms are rarely designed, they are born kicking and screaming into the world out of a messy, incremental compromise between contending factions battling for survival, determined by power politics.” In the Israeli case this description is particularly apt. The CFI’s ambitious plan to adopt a constitution by referendum was abandoned rather quickly, but serious effort was invested in promoting three elements of it: a bill of rights, electoral reform, and direct election of the PM. In the end, only government system reform was adopted, together with some elements of human rights legislation.33 We will now turn to analyze the main developments in the evolution of government system reform from its introduction at the end of 1987 until its adoption in March 1992. The evolution of the reform bill can be witnessed through the eight different versions of the bill that were relevant at five different points in time: the CFI proposal (presented in August 1987); the four private member reform bills (submitted December 1988–February 1989, and passed in preliminary readings on March 1990 and in first readings on May 1990); the four MKs’ joint proposal, put together after the first reading and used as a basis for the CLJC deliberations in preparing the bill for its second and third readings (presented September 1990); the version of the bill that was submitted for the first attempt at a second reading (January 1992); and the final version of the bill that passed the second and third reading (March 1992). A common element in all these proposals was direct election of the PM; it was perceived as the core of reform and the reformers (except for Lynn in January–February 1992) refused to compromise on it. Everything else was negotiable, which allowed for compromise among the reformers and, more important, facilitated the rebuilding of a supportive coalition (when it became impossible to continue to set aside differences) for the second and third readings. Because previous proposals for government system reform failed to penetrate the decision-makers’ agenda, the CFI proposal can justifiably be seen as a starting point. The CFI’s draft constitution suggested substantial changes in the relationships between the three branches of government and

142

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

in citizen–government relations. It included a chapter on human rights that was intended to regulate individual and group relations with the government, an MMP electoral system, direct election of the PM, and a transformation of the Supreme Court into a constitutional court with powers of judicial review. A substantial reform in itself was the adoption of a rigid constitution, with future amendments requiring the support of two-thirds of the Knesset. On its own, the direct election of the PM could be seen as a puzzling, and even dangerous proposal; its more acceptable “neighbors” gave it a better status. After the failure to promote electoral reform and a bill of rights in the parliamentary arena, direct election of the PM—no longer one element of a constitutional “package” or conditional on the adoption of other reforms—remained alone on the agenda and captured center stage. Susser (1989), who helped write the CFI draft constitution, explained that the synthesis between parliamentary and presidential regimes was born out of a difference in opinion among the constitution’s drafters. Some recommended a presidential regime, arguing that the executive branch in a parliamentary regime would always be dependent on a fragile majority of MKs. In contrast, there were those who opposed presidentialism, fearing the rise of a “strong leader” in the crisis-ridden Israeli context and the possibility of a divided majority, which was perceived as a danger to the overburdened Israeli polity. In the face of these disagreements, they attempted to formulate a system that would synthesize the best of both worlds, combining the leadership potential of presidentialism with the responsiveness of parliamentarism— without suffering parliamentary fractionalism or creating the potential deadlocks that characterize presidential regimes.34 The four MKs’ private member reform bills differed in their proposed balance of power between the PM and the Knesset and their level of interdependence. Tsiddon’s proposal was very different compared to the other three. It suggested adopting a presidential regime with elements from the French and American systems: the directly elected PM could not be unseated unless special circumstances—health, criminal action, improper behavior—justified it, and even then a complex impeachment process that required a supermajority would be needed. In addition, the PM would have the ability to veto legislation that could only be reversed by a two-thirds majority in the Knesset. The proposal also implied a division of powers, with ministers unable to serve as MKs and with a term of seven years for the PM, which would not coincide with the Knesset’s four-year term. The other three proposals suggested adopting a hybrid regime, with different levels of the PM’s dependence on the Knesset. At this stage, these proposals did not give the PM the power to call for new elections for the Knesset that would coincide with the new election of the PM. All three proposals suggested that both the Knesset and the PM would be elected at the same time, which implied that the Knesset’s decision to legislate the end of its term would mean

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

143

new elections for both branches. The bills of Libai and Lynn also allowed a Knesset supermajority to oust the PM in a no confidence vote (eighty or seventy-five MKs), a step that would lead to early elections for both branches. Compared to his colleagues, Rubinstein was a “minimalist.”35 His main goal was to substantially reduce the “blackmail” power of the small factions through taking the PM election from the Knesset and negating the possibility that a plurality vote could oust the PM. He was worried about the rise of an overly strong leader, so he gave the Knesset not only the power to oust the PM—a step that would also mean new Knesset elections—but also to replace the PM with a supermajority of seventy MKs. Rubinstein saw the Israeli regime as an “assembly government,” and his proposal was aimed at balancing it by strengthening the Government vis-à-vis the Knesset, rather than changing the basic characteristics of the regime. While his proposal that a Knesset supermajority would be able to replace the PM was rejected, the amendments that were later added in the CLJC—aimed at ensuring that the bill would win majority support in the Knesset—fit the spirit of his minimalist approach. These included giving the Knesset the ability to oust the PM with no new Knesset elections by a supermajority of eighty MKs, as well as determining that an absolute majority would be sufficient to oust the PM— but would lead to early elections for both branches. The proposals of Lynn and Libai were very similar to the proposal that appeared in the CFI’s draft constitution.36 These bills were meant to create a balance between government efficiency and restraint; the Knesset could still oust the PM, but with much more difficulty than in the existing regime. Unseating the PM would require a supermajority, but this would also lead to new Knesset elections. Later, to recruit majority support for reform, the two had to compromise and grant the Knesset more power. In the final version of the bill, an absolute majority sufficed to lead to elections for both branches, and a supermajority of eighty MKs was sufficient to oust the PM and have new elections only for his post. Furthermore, the Knesset could oust the PM (and itself) by a vote of investiture and by rejecting the budget.37 Libai was also concerned about the possibility of an unnecessary burgeoning of candidates and the rise of populist and fraudulent candidates. Unlike the CFI’s proposal (which served as the basis for his own proposal), he suggested making candidacy for the PM conditional on the support of a high number of MKs (twenty-five in his original proposal), and refraining from allowing the public to directly suggest candidacy. He had to give up on these demands, and the bill that was adopted set a relatively low threshold for candidacy—the support of ten MKs or 50,000 voter signatures. The joint proposal of the four MKs pushed aside Tsiddon’s presidential vision and focused on the hybrid parliamentary–presidential model. The main innovation of this joint proposal was the concept of balance of power: the Knesset would be able to oust the PM with a supermajority of seventy

144

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

MKs and the PM would be able to call for new elections. Both instances would lead to new elections for both branches. Abraham Diskin, who participated in the extraparliamentary committee that developed the joint proposal, affirms that the main idea that guided it was the creation of a “balance of fear” between the branches. The branches, dependent on each other for their survival, would prefer cooperation; an insurmountable conflict would be resolved through elections for both branches (Diskin & Diskin, 1995).38 The proposal that was submitted to the Knesset in January 1992, after more than thirty deliberations of the CLJC, included a new element: special elections—the possibility of elections for only the PM. These would occur in various circumstances: failure to establish a Government within the time frame determined by law, resignation of the PM, impeachment, or a vote of no confidence supported by eighty MKs. Former proposals suggested various ways to ensure that the PM would have a deputy should the need arise, so special elections would not be necessary or would occur only on rare occasions. It was apparent that the bill demonstrated a tendency to empower the Knesset vis-à-vis the PM. Special elections weakened interdependence between the two branches and empowered the Knesset (Diskin & Diskin, 1991).39 It was also proposed that elections for both branches would take place if the national budget did not pass the Knesset within three months after the beginning of the budget year. A tendency toward the merging of powers was apparent when it was determined that the PM, as well as at least half of the ministers, must be MKs. Previous proposals either had not addressed the issue or had explicitly suggested (e.g., the CFI’s proposal) that the PM and his deputy should not serve as MKs. Two amendments intended to empower the Knesset vis-à-vis the PM were added prior to the second and third readings of March 1992. First, it was decided that the new Government would have to face a vote of investiture; if it were to fail, the two branches would face new elections. This fulfilled a demand set by the NRP back in 1990. At that time, Lynn harshly opposed the idea, claiming, “Everyone who wants the Knesset’s vote of investiture had better give up on direct election of the PM and stay with the current system. It is impossible to do two things that contradict each other. It is impossible to legislate a law with the aim of achieving one major goal and then to empty it from its purpose” (Protocols of the CLJC, November 21, 1990). When NRP support seemed crucial, right before the last attempt at passing the bill, this amendment was adopted. Second, it was determined that an absolute majority—rather than a supermajority—would be sufficient to oust the PM and would lead to new elections for both branches. In order to appeal to the MKs who had to relinquish their ability to select the PM, the final proposal added checks on the empowered PM with his popular mandate. The Knesset was granted the authority to scrutinize government regulations; the right to summon the PM

LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS

145

to the plenum and to summon ministers and administrators to the committees; and the ability to oust individual ministers by a vote of seventy MKs. Like the CFI, the hard core of reformers in the Knesset was open to compromise along the way—even on elements that were seen as substantive—as long as the core of reform, direct election of the PM, remained. A lone alternative, “PM Government,” which did not suggest direct election of the PM, stood against these proposals (Peri, 1989). This initiative was conceptualized by political scientists Emanuel Gutmann and Abraham Diskin. It proposed that, following the Knesset elections, the head of the largest party list would be automatically nominated to establish the Government. The Knesset would be able to replace the Government by a constructive vote of no confidence, in which an absolute majority would support an alternative PM. Like proposals for the direct election of the PM, it also enhanced the PM’s authority to nominate ministers and define their authorities and functions. In the framework of the familiar parliamentary system, this proposal suggested relatively simple solutions to two problems: the blackmail power of the small parties would be checked because in order to oust Government they would have to support an alternative;40 flexibility and coordination in the work of the Government would be achieved by empowering the PM vis-à-vis his ministers. The PM Government proposal penetrated the agenda in 1988, promoted by the activities of the IDI. In 1990, it passed the preliminary reading with the support of proponents of direct election of the PM as part of a mutual support deal between the proponents of both versions of reform. On the basis of this cooperation, and since it was unlikely that this initiative had any chance of being adopted, supporters of direct elections allowed its submission as an amendment to the reform bill. Yet, even after the proposal was neutralized as a threat to the small parties (by deleting the article that stated that the PM would be the head of the largest party list), it failed to garner much support because many MKs from the small parties remained suspicious of it. The promotion of the PM Government initiative faced two main obstacles. First, it did not win the support of pressure groups. Its champion, MK Landau, explained that it was not recognized as it was not backed by “significant capital from the U.S., which helps in public relations and aggressive brainwashing, as another group does have” (Davar, October 20, 1991). He added that “the main advantage, maybe the only one, that direct election has over the reform for empowering the status of the PM is in the arena of public relations” (Twelfth Knesset Records, January 6, 1992). Second, the proposal lacked the elements that could appeal to both the public and the MKs. To the public, it seemed too conservative; it was missing the innovation of the direct election of the PM.41 To many MKs, though, it looked more threatening than direct election of the PM. While it preserved the Knesset’s power to select the PM and oust him, it made the small parties worry for their survival, as the proposal gave

146

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

voters clear incentive to support large parties. By the same token, the effect of direct election of the PM on large versus small parties was unclear. When this proposal competed with direct election of the PM for the support of Labor’s central committee at the end of 1990, the small parties to Labor’s left threatened to refuse cooperation with Labor if the proposal was not rejected. Likud was also threatened by small parties and refrained from even bringing this alternative reform to a vote in its central committee meeting at the end of 1991. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

Long-term developments and events supplied opportunities for reformers to present “solutions” they had prepared beforehand. Marketing was easier when the political system malfunctioned, especially when its problems were identified by politicians, public opinion leaders, and the public. No specific necessary condition (or conditions) for reform was found in the wide menu that was examined, but their very existence and identification were a focal point for justifying the promotion of reform. Skilled exploitation of background factors helped in overcoming the obstacles that preserved the institutional status quo. Convincingly linking a solution to a problem requires, first, that the “solution” acquire some social status, that it be recognized as a serious alternative before it fully enters the public and the decision-makers’ agenda. Second, there must also be a possibility of linking reform to the problem in the framework of the common narrative—usually a rational and causal one in the case of democracies. It would seem that marketing a solution such as direct elections—and not, for example, the replacement of the Government and its leadership— was made easier after experience with three Governmental alternatives. However, it is also the case that even given these conditions a wide array of alternative “solutions” still existed. This was apparent at the beginning of the Stinky Trick era, when electoral reform was replaced with government system reform. Adopting a written constitution or a bill of rights was also suggested many times with quite similar arguments. In summation, the activities of political actors, their exploitation of opportunities through focusing and magnifying problems and events, and their linking them to the proposed solution were crucial in determining the fate of reform. Long-term developments and catalyzing events merely supply raw materials to reformers. It is the actors who push reform onto the agenda, keep it there, fight off opponents, and build and rebuild supportive coalitions. Manipulative, skillful exploitation of the multifaceted characteristics of the proposal, along with flexibility and willingness to compromise on its content, allowed reformers to transform government system reform from an unrecognized option into a well-known and popular reform proposal.

SIX

The Actors

THIS CHAPTER EXAMINES the characteristics of the actors who took part in

the politics of government system reform in 1988–1992, their stands, and their behaviors. By that time, political power was no longer concentrated in the hands of a dominant party and its organizations in Israel’s society and economy. Additional centers of political power had developed and power was more widely distributed among a growing number of actors from different spheres (Medding, 1999; Sheffer, 1999a,b; Zalmanovitch, 1998). As a result, parties no longer controlled the arena of the politics of reform, nor did they dominate it, and the role of nonpartisan and nongovernmental actors substantially increased. THE KNESSET

The Knesset continued to be a central arena in the struggle for promoting and blocking reform. MKs were influential not only as voters in the plenum and the CLJC, but also in other activities aimed at speeding up legislation, on the one hand, and delaying or neutralizing it, on the other. In comparison to the past, coalition and party cohesion and discipline decreased, while the independence of party groups, and even individual MKs, vis-à-vis party institutions, increased (Goldberg, 1992). At the same time, MKs became more responsive and more susceptible to extraparliamentary demands and pressures. This change was expressed not only in breaches of cohesion and discipline—coalition or partisan—but also in a tendency to refrain from imposing discipline in the first place. One indication of the growth in the Knesset’s independence was the dramatic increase in the number of private member bills that the twelfth Knesset adopted (chapter four). The twelfth Knesset was also prominent in the amount of initiatives and legislation (especially after the Stinky Trick) aimed

147

148

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

at fixing various defects in the political system.1 Especially significant was the adoption, for the first time, of two basic laws that dealt with fundamental human rights. The Knesset’s response to the reform initiative for the direct election of the PM was far from being a single “game” of “supporters” versus “opponents” (Rahat, 2004). The coalitions of proponents and opponents of reform substantially changed in their composition throughout the process of reform legislation. Seventy-one MKs voted against the bill and eighty-two voted for it (in a 120–member Knesset) at least once over the course of the three readings of the bill. The continuous dynamics of building and rebuilding coalitions are evident in the data about MKs’ voting behavior in the three readings of the reform bill (Table 6.1). Only thirty-four MKs voted for reform and only twelve opposed it consistently in all three readings. Most MKs were torn between contradicting perceptions, interests, and pressures. Even among “supporters” and “opponents” one can clearly distinguish between the hard core and those who could abstain from voting or even vote with the other TABLE 6.1 Voting Patterns in the Three Readings of the Direct Election Law*

Group† Hard-core support

Vote Sequence‡ YYY

YYA AYY Partial support

AYA

No. of votes

Parties Labor (27), Shinui (2), Tzomet (2), Likud (2), FPZI (1) Labor (2), NRP (2) Ratz (1), Arab Democratic Party (1), FPZI (1), Labor (5)

34 4 8

NYY YNY

FPZI (1), Progressive List for Peace (1) Labor (3), Ratz (2), Mapam (2) Likud (3)

Undecided

YNA ANY NYA NAY AAA

Likud (8), NRP (2) Likud (2) Ratz (1), Mapam (1) Labor (1) Likud (1)

10 2 2 1 1

Partial rejection

AAN YNN ANA

Hadash (1) Likud (8), NRP (1) Likud (7)

1 9 7

2 7 3

(continued on next page)

THE ACTORS

149

camp. Only a minority of MKs were affiliated with the hard core of supporters (forty-six) or opponents (twenty-nine). Many MKs could be described as “soft” supporters (twelve) and opponents (seventeen), whose behavior can be defined in retrospect more as a tendency than as definite support or rejection. The pivotal vote was in the hands of the “undecideds,” those with the most unstable voting behavior. That is, those who were ultimately to decide the fate of reform, the sixteen MKs in the pivotal position, did not show even the slightest tendency toward either of the competing sides. There is evidently a connection between party affiliation and MKs’ voting on reform. However, we witness neither the high party cohesion of the 1950s (Rahat 2001a), nor the few individual breaches of the 1970s. Moreover, unlike the votes on electoral reform in 1986 and 1988, diversity in voting patterns TABLE 6.1 (continued)

Group† Hard core rejection

Vote Sequence‡ NAN NNA

ANN NNN

Parties Shas (2), Hadash (2) Shas (2), Agudat Yisrael (1), Geulat Yisrael (1), Likud (1), Pituah Ve’aliya (1), Tehiya (1) Likud (4), Moria (1), Shas (1) Agudat Yisrael (3), Degel Hatorah (2), Moledet (2), Tehiya (2), Black Panthers (1), Likud (1), Ratz (1)

No. of votes 4

7 6

12

* The classification is based on the voting behavior of the MKs in three readings: first reading—Libai’s Bill (Jerusalem Post, June 5, 1990); second reading, first attempt, third article (Twelfth Knesset Records, January 7, 1992); third reading (ibid., March 18, 1992). † The definition of each group is according to the following rules: Hard-core support: MKs who supported the bill in at least two readings and never opposed it. Partial support: MKs who either abstained or were absent twice and supported the bill once, or those who supported the bill twice and rejected it once. Undecided: MKs who abstained or were absent in one vote, rejected it in one instance, and supported it in another, plus one MK who was absent for all readings. Partial rejection: MKs who either abstained or were absent twice and rejected the bill once or those who rejected the bill twice and supported it once. Hard-core rejection: MKs who rejected the bill in at least two readings and never supported it. ‡ Y = Yes (for)

N = No (against)

A = Absent/Abstained.

150

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

appeared in more than one single party. In many cases, party affiliation was weakly correlated with voting patterns on direct election: Likud MKs are found in all five of the groups defined in Table 6.1; five Ratz MKs are scattered among four groups; five NRP MKs appear in three different groups; and three Mapam MKs are scattered between two groups. A deeper look into the eighteen different vote sequences reveals an even more complex picture. Indeed, in the January 1992 second reading—the only one that was really close (fifty-seven supporters against fifty-six opponents)—affiliation with governing coalition and the opposition could be used to predict most MKs’ behavior. Yet it was the minority who deviated from these patterns and decided the fate of the bill (chapter seven). Low party cohesion characterized the preparation and deliberations of the reform bills as well. The four MKs who submitted reform bills, and who later promoted a joint bill, belonged to four different parties: Libai was in Labor; Rubinstein was in Shinui; Lynn was in Likud; and Tsiddon was in Tzomet. They cooperated, even though they belonged to adversarial ideological camps (Likud and Tzomet on the right; Labor and Meretz on the left) and to parties that competed for the votes of similar electorates (Labor vs. Shinui for the leftist electorate; Likud vs. Tzomet for the rightist electorate; and Labor vs. Likud for the floating votes). Libai (Labor) promoted reform early on, when his party had still its reservations on the issue, while Lynn (Likud)—who was the CLJC chairman—acted under the increasing pressure of his party to delay and bury the bill. Public pressure in favor of the reform significantly affected the behavior of reform opponents in the Knesset. Because extraparliamentary pressure had the greatest effect on MKs’ behavior in the plenum, reform opponents focused their efforts on blocking it in other arenas. The CLJC, the arena in which previous electoral reform initiatives were blocked, could have been the ideal place to block the direct election initiative. But this time, strong commitment to reform by key members of the CLJC made it less susceptible to opponents’ pressures. Changes in the balance of support within the CLJC during 1991–1992 largely reflected those of the Knesset as a whole. In both arenas there was an increase in support for reform by opposition MKs and a decrease by MKs from the governing coalition. As in the plenum, a small minority of coalition members provided majority support for reform; in the CLJC, not a single member of the opposition took part in blocking reform. The CLJC included ten decisive supporters of reform (including the chairman) and nine opponents. Two additional MKs were from opposition parties, and, while they were not supporters of reform, they refrained from cooperating with those opponents who came from the coalition parties—Likud and the religious parties. Due to his control of the CLJC agenda, its chairman Lynn played a key role in the politics of reform. He made sure that deliberations concentrated

THE ACTORS

151

on direct election of the PM, rather than on other available reform alternatives (like the electoral reform and human right bills that he buried). After a smooth start, in which the reform bills passed preliminary and first readings, Likud leaders—interested in sustaining the coalition and in saving themselves from having to explicitly oppose the popular bill—started pressuring Lynn to delay legislation and keep the bill in the CLJC. Lynn was torn between the pressures of his party and his own personal support for the reform he had himself initiated. Although there were claims that he deliberately delayed legislation, most of the time he actually contributed to the promotion of the reform bill: he used much of the CLJC’s time to discuss the bill and actively recruited support for it in the CLJC, the Knesset, his party, and the general public. He also fought with MK Corfo, a member of his own party, who attempted to delay the legislation on procedural grounds. Only at the beginning of 1992 did it seem that he finally surrendered to pressures from his party. But at the last minute—after he decided not to submit his candidacy for the next Knesset (Lynn 1992b)—he used his authority and personal vote to counter a last-ditch attempt to stop the bill from reaching the plenum. Two other Likud MKs, who held key positions in the Knesset, used their authority to delay the legislation. Corfo, the most active among the opponents of reform, chaired the House Committee, which has the authority to decide on contested procedural issues. He tried to use his position and his mastery of Knesset regulations to block reform legislation on procedural grounds. His main maneuver was an attempt to send the reform bill back to square one; he argued that the submission of four separate reform bills for a first reading was against regulations and that a single joint bill should, therefore, be resubmitted for a first reading. His maneuvers only slightly delayed legislation, though, because a majority in the House Committee stood against him. Dov Shilansky (Likud), the Knesset speaker, was more successful then Corfo. He exploited his agenda-setting authority and delayed legislation until the Supreme Court—in reaction to reformers petitions—asked him to justify it. These delays made it possible for Shilansky to begin the second reading deliberations after the Likud’s Central Committee decided the party’s stand on the issue, so its MKs were pressured to abide by the decision to reject the bill. During these deliberations, Shilansky used his authority to lengthen the debate, supplying his party the time needed to crystallize a majority that agreed to return the reform bill to the CLJC. GOVERNMENT

Most of the time, Governments refrained from taking an active part in the politics of reform because they were not interested in provoking conflict among the partners of the governing coalition who held different stands on the issue. Yet the Government contributed significantly to the transformation

152

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

of the initiative for government system reform from a marginal idea into a recognized and respected option. By referring to it (and sometimes even positively), the Government and its leaders helped make it a viable option. Government system reform appeared in the program of the 1988 unity Government, side by side with the veteran electoral reform initiative. It appeared as an option that should be considered for improving governability, responsiveness, and stability (see Galnoor & Hofnung, 1993, p. 1012). The bipartisan committee that was established according to the Likud-Labor 1988 coalition agreement was authorized not only to examine options for electoral reform (like the 1984 committee), but also the option for government system reform (ibid. 1014). Beyond legitimizing the initiative for government system reform, the Government did not contribute to the promotion of reform. The 1988–1989 bipartisan committee began by concentrating its efforts on electoral reform; at the time that it was supposed to deliberate government system reform, the coalition started to collapse and the committee halted its deliberations.2 The program of Shamir’s narrow Government (established in June 1990) included the examination of the issue of government system reform. This reform was tied up, though, in potentially contradictory obligations inherent in Likud’s coalition agreements with different parties (Galnoor & Hofnung, 1993, pp. 1016–1021). The Government was thus better off if it refrained from dealing with reform because any move might have been understood by a coalition partner as going against coalition obligations. In instances when ministers, in their status as Government representatives in the Knesset, had to address the issue of reform, they were far from expressing any clear view, and their responses were dictated by the immediate needs of the time. HEAD OF STATE: THE PRESIDENT

Until the 1980s, Israeli presidents refrained from expressing opinions on contested issues. Presidents played an apolitical role, above disagreements, symbolizing the nation as a whole (Nedava, 1975). President Navon (1978–1983) deviated from this behavior by publicly supporting the establishment of an investigative committee on the massacre in Beirut’s refugee camps during Israel’s occupation of the city. President Chaim Herzog (1983–1993) did the same in regard to government system reform. Herzog gave several reasons justifying his involvement in reform promotion. First, he claimed that due to the changes in the party system, his role was different from that of his predecessors. While their role in nominating a PM had been highly symbolic—since in the past single candidates possessed clear Knesset majorities—he had to decide, five times, who would establish the Government, without having clear-cut results at hand. Second, in a situation in which the country was divided into two equal political camps, he was

THE ACTORS

153

the single official who could present a credible, nonpartisan stand on an issue that was systemic rather than partisan. Third, given the lack of responsiveness of MKs and ministers—which resulted from the shortcomings of the regime structure—he had to serve as a channel for transferring the demands of those thousands of citizens who called for reform. He considered himself (and was also perceived by others) as a mediator between alienated citizens, angry protesters, and the political elite (Working together for Change, 1990). Finally, he testified that he was motivated by his worries for the fate of Israeli democracy, as his description of the Stinky Trick era attests: “The Israelis, who were tired and weakened from the politicians, began to rebel against politics—and unfortunately, also against democracy” (Herzog, 1997, p. 471). Herzog—who championed electoral reform since the early 1970s—was sympathetic to the calls for government system reform. He used his legitimacy as a nonpartisan representative of “the people” in the same manner as he did in supporting the demands for electoral reform. His main contribution to promoting reform was his expressions of support in public speeches and interviews, sometimes in the context of his decisions on who should be selected to establish the Government when election results did not indicate a clear winner (Allon, 1995). Yet, while it was clear that he supported reform, it was unclear which reform—direct election of the PM, electoral reform, or another option.3 His ambiguous statements were enough to make him a prominent member in the reform coalition because he was seen as supporting the only alternative that was promoted since 1990, the direct election of the PM. Herzog also helped the pro-reform campaign when he granted protesters national legitimacy by expressing his sympathy with their cause, meeting with them, and helping them raise funds and recruit allies in the Jewish Diaspora (Allon, 1995; Working Together for Change, 1990). Some pro-reform protesters were disappointed by Herzog’s caution and thought he should be involved much more in reform promotion (Allon, 1995). However, as a symbolic head of state, Herzog did the best he could to help reformers, supplying direct election of the PM with the needed presidential, “apolitical,” nonpartisan legitimacy vis-à-vis the ugly “politics” of parties and MKs. THE JUDICIAL SYSTEM

The judicialization of Israeli politics—the judiciary’s exercise of power at the expense of politicians and administrators—had increased toward the 1990s, and became extensive in comparison to other countries (Edelman, 1995). The principals of a restricted right of petition and parliamentary sovereignty, which guided the court in the past, were increasingly abandoned from the mid-1970s, and even more so from the mid-1980s.4 Especially prominent in the 1980s was the growing interference of the Supreme Court in the working procedures of the Knesset (Barzilai, 1998; Korn, 1994; Rubinstein & Medina, 1996).

154

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

This background clarifies why the Supreme Court was invited to take part in the politics of reform and how it became an actor. Reformers petitioned the Supreme Court against the Knesset speaker, who refused to put the reform bill on the agenda when it reached the plenum for a second reading. Only after the Supreme Court asked the speaker to justify his actions (HCJ 5251/91) did he promise to allow deliberation and voting on the bill in a timely manner (HCJ 5379/91, 5563/91).5 The Supreme Court decisions (as the High Court of Justice) had more impact on the politics of reform than that of a mere interference in politicians’ procedural maneuvers. Decisions that addressed the behaviors of politicians and parties were used as verification by the protesters of their criticism of the patterns of behavior of politicians and supplied legitimacy for their cries for reform. For example, the decision of the High Court of Justice that coalition agreements should be made transparent justified criticism of the existing system and its dynamics (see HCJ 1601/90, 1602/90, 1603/90, 1604/90.). The Supreme Court was thus recruited—neither willingly nor explicitly—to give a stamp of legitimacy, of “justice,” to the general struggle for “change” that was geared more and more toward government system reform. Its decisions were especially significant since, unlike other political institutions such as the Government, Knesset, and parties, the Supreme Court enjoyed a very high level of public trust.6 PARTIES

Toward the end of 1980s, a decrease in the power and status of parties in Israeli politics was quite apparent. This decrease was evident even in the fulfillment of obviously partisan functions, such as policy-making and recruiting support for the government and the regime. Party groups in the Knesset and individual MKs became increasingly independent from party institutions (Goldberg, 1992) and more susceptible to nonpartisan pressures. The reform initiative was the banner of only two small parties, Shinui and Tzomet (each held two seats in the twelfth Knesset). Labor joined them only at a later stage, after the reform bills passed the first reading. The other parties refrained from making binding decisions on reform and chose to delay as much as possible, giving their parliamentary group the right to make the final decisions. Some parties behaved this way in the hope that the reform would be buried and they would not have to face public criticism over their rejection of it. Other parties allowed their representatives freedom to maneuver, in order to gain political rewards in other areas in exchange for promising to reject or support the bill. It was demonstrated earlier that a party’s response to electoral reform initiatives could be roughly explained in terms of its size and ideological location. But how did parties react to government system reform? If, like electoral

THE ACTORS

155

reform, government system reform was expected to reward large parties and produce centripetal pressures, than we should anticipate seeing similar behavior. Such was the case in the first reading. Support came from the two large parties and their closest allies on the right and left, Tzomet and Shinui, as well as from the NRP, the most moderate of the religious parties in terms of religious issues. Most of the opposition came from the small parties on the left, right, and clerical poles. A different pattern developed later, based on the prediction that reform would enhance the chances of Labor and the left to establish a Government. Most of the opposition parties (Labor and most of the parties on its left) supported the bill, while most of the MKs from the coalition parties (Likud and most right-wing and religious parties) opposed it. Alignment/Labor Until the end of 1990, when the reform bills had passed preliminary and first readings, Labor had no party stand on government system reform. Labor MKs expressed various attitudes, ranging from strong support (Weiss, 1989)— including from the party chairman—to strong opposition, (Zisman, 1989). It was nevertheless apparent that support for reform was increasing somewhat.7 Although the party stuck to its traditional support for electoral reform, and preferred it over the new reform initiative, when the bill had its first reading in May 1990, most Labor MKs (voting on Libai’s bill) supported it (twentynine), and only a few were absent (five) or voted against it (four). Public pressure seemed to dictate this behavior, as many MKs who voted in support of reform expressed reservations, declared their support conditional, and called for its reassessment. Motivated by public pressure, Labor declared in May 1990 that it would begin a series of deliberations on possible reforms. In November 1990, Labor’s central bureau decided to support a series of reforms that were recommended by a special intraparty committee. Due to a tie in the special committee, no decision was made concerning whether Labor would support “PM government” or direct election of the PM. The central committee was to decide between the two options. At the end of 1990, a majority of the members of Labor’s central committee (278) decided to support direct election of PM while only 150 supported the “PM government” alternative. It seems that the support of the party chairman, Peres, and his rival, Yitzhak Rabin,8 together with the popularity of direct election with the public (more precisely, among the pressure groups that spoke in the name of the public), gave direct election of the PM the upper hand. Labor saw its support for reform as a tool for rehabilitating itself from the Stinky Trick (Yatziv, 1992): not only had the party humiliated itself by its willingness to offer bribes and compromise its stands, but it had also failed to establish a Government and was pushed into the opposition. Micha Harish, the party’s general secretary, declared at the central committee gathering that “we must

156

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

prove to the public, that even if we slipped up at the beginning of the year in our negotiations to establish a Government . . . we have to learn from our mistakes, study our lessons and return to the straight path.”9 While disagreement on reform remained, all Labor MKs complied with the central committee and voted in support for reform. The party and its leaders became, from the end of 1990, the champions of reform. The popularity of reform made both candidates for Labor’s leadership, Peres and Rabin, active supporters. The chairman of the Knesset party group, a zealous supporter of reform, made every effort to speed up legislation and pressured Labor MKs to refrain from posing amendments that could delay legislation. Likud While Labor’s support for reform intensified over time, an opposite process occurred in Likud. Likud MKs actively supported, and even initiated, reform in 1989. Later, though, their support eroded, and by the end of 1991 a majority of Likud MKs and central committee members rejected reform. At the end of 1988 and the beginning of 1989—a time when even the CFI refrained from promoting direct election as a separate initiative—Likud seemed to be the champion of direct election of the PM. Two Likud MKs were the first to submit a reform bill, with the support of their parliamentary group.10 This was followed by the submission of an additional reform bill by MK Lynn. Many Likud MKs, including the PM, expressed support for reform. But in mid-1989, following opinion polls that showed that Rabin would defeat Shamir in a personal contest, the first signs of Likud’s abandoning its enthusiastic support for reform were already apparent. In the first reading (May 1990), a majority of Likud MKs (twenty-one) supported reform, thirteen were absent, one abstained, and only two rejected it (the vote on Libai’s bill). Majority support of the bill was largely a response to public pressure (Nissim, 1995). In addition, MK Landau and his fellow supporters of the “PM government” alternative voted for these bills in exchange for a promise of future support for their own initiative. Many Likud leaders and MKs—including some who supported reform from the start and contributed to its transformation into a viable alternative— changed their minds during 1990–1991 and became opponents of reform. They often refrained from publicly expressing their rejection of reform. Public support for reform and the potentially contradicting coalition obligations of Likud made silence and delays a preferred strategy. PM Shamir, who expressed sympathy for reform even at the beginning of 1990, hid his rejection until the last moment before the Likud’s central committee gathering at the end of 1991.11 Likud MK Corfo, arguably acting as Shamir’s “long arm,” was one of a few Likud MKs who dared to fight publicly against reform from mid-1990, and paid a high personal price for it. The ambiguity in the stand

THE ACTORS

157

of Likud was maintained until the end of 1991 because, at the same time that the opposing majority was silent, Likud MKs Lynn, Netanyahu, and Magen, along with several prominent Likud Mayors, were very active and vocal supporters of reform. Following many fruitless deliberations on reform in the Likud’s Knesset party group, which were aimed at buying time, and after Shamir’s opposition to reform was finally exposed (Tzimuki, 1992), it was decided at the end of 1991 to let the 3,000 members of the central committee determine the party’s stand on the issue. Nonparty actors joined forces with the Likud MKs in the campaign that was conducted leading up to the central committee gathering. The CFI and its allies tried to recruit support and a group of political science professors attempted to convince Likud to reject reform. This effort included various activities, such as gatherings, publications of newspaper ads, and sending letters addressed to the members of the central committee. The central committee decisively rejected reform. In a secret ballot, 1,542 (72 percent) voted against reform while only 588 (28 percent) voted in support (Allon, 1995). In the second reading in January 1992, all but two Likud MKs obeyed this decision. One was Yigael Horowitz, a representative of a small, reform-oriented faction, who declared in advance that he would vote his conscience. At the end of his political career, he was less prone to the pressures of the central committee (because he did not run for reselection), and, after failing to promote electoral reform, he used this last chance to leave his mark on Israeli politics. The second was Benjamin Netanyahu, who publicly announced he would support reform even he had to breach party discipline. An MK in his first term, Netanyahu did not want to spend much time as a backbencher, so he took the risk and made himself prominent in supporting reform against the decision of his party central committee. In March 1992, just before the second and third readings, the Likud failed in its final attempt to freeze the bill in the CLJC. The party parliamentary group decided—in light of both the popularity of reform in the public eye and the forthcoming elections—to grant its MKs freedom of vote. Seven MKs supported the bill in the third reading, thirteen rejected it, and seventeen were absent. In short, as time passed, Likud became an opponent of reform, but found it hard to express its opposition in the face of extraparliamentary pressures and supportive public opinion. The Faction for the Promotion of the Zionist Idea (FPZI) The FPZI was established in March 1990 by five Liberal MKs who defected from Likud (later on, two returned to Likud) as a result of intraparty personal struggles. Its main demands were opportunistic—ministerial posts for its members (which it achieved) and safe positions in Likud’s candidate list for the next elections (which it failed to secure). The faction expressed support

158

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

for reform, but was far from zealous. It did not pressure Likud to implement its coalition obligation to adopt government system reform in six months’ time. Its crucial support for reform, in the second reading in January 1992, came after Likud clarified that it would not fulfill its promise to give the faction safe spots on its candidate list for the next elections. In the face of public support for reform, it seemed more rewarding for the faction, forced to compete on its own in the coming elections, to support the popular reform.12 Ratz In 1990, Ratz leaders expressed reservations about reform (see, e.g., Sarid, 1990). During the first readings, four of its MKs rejected reform while one abstained (the vote on Libai’s bill). After Labor became the champion of reform, making it part of the contest between the coalition and the opposition, most Ratz MKs changed their positions. The perception that adopting reform would increase the chance of the center-left to win elections— together with the expected reward for supporting a popular reform, and the hope that this would repair the damage caused by the Stinky Trick—led most Ratz MKs to support reform.13 The Ratz party committee refrained from making any decision on the issue and gave its MKs freedom of voting. Its parliamentary group was largely pro-reformist. In mid-1991, it called for speeding up the legislation of the reform bill, together with Labor and Shinui, and its MKs (except for a single principled opponent) supported the reform bill during the second and third readings of 1992. Mapam With its strong tradition of opposition to electoral reform and principled support for PR, no wonder that Mapam’s opening stand was rejection of direct election of the PM. In the first reading (the vote on Libai’s bill), its three MKS voted against reform. After this “automatic” response, Mapam established a special committee to examine possible reform alternatives. While the committee did not directly recommend support for direct election of the PM, it did suggest other options for reform, among them a combination of direct elections with adopting a constitution and empowering the Knesset.14 This paved the way for a change in the attitude and behavior of Mapam toward reform. The party’s central committee, which met in June 1991, rejected direct elections, but allowed the Knesset party group and its secretariat to reconsider how their MKs would vote on it when the initiative would once again be brought before the Knesset. This decision exposed Mapam’s MKs to extraparty pressures, which led them to join most of the other opposition MKs in support of the bill in the second reading. Mapam’s chairman remained opposed to the bill and argued that it was neither a solution to the problem of the blackmail power of the small pivotal party nor a

THE ACTORS

159

system that would reward the left. Yet, at the January second reading, when it became apparent that his vote was crucial, he changed it from an abstention to support.15 Shinui Government system reform was a major banner of Shinui. Its leader, Amnon Rubinstein, suggested this kind of reform as early as 1984, long before it penetrated the public and political agenda. He also began the move to change the reformist focus—which sought a remedy to the ills of coalition politics— from electoral reform to government system reform (Rubinstein, 1988a,b). Rubinstein was very active in promoting reform in the Knesset (he submitted one of the reform bills) and outside it, and he wrote dozens of newspapers columns on behalf of the reform. The weight of Shinui’s support for reform, and especially that of Rubinstein, stretched beyond its numbers. Rubinstein was perceived as an honest politician, a constitutional expert, and a liberal who would not support an antidemocratic reform. His passionate support for reform helped convince the more skeptical forces on the left, especially Ratz and Mapam, to reconsider their negative initial reactions to the reform initiative. National Religious Party (NRP) Signs of support for reform in the NRP appeared beginning in 1989 and at the time of the Stinky Trick (Safrei, 1990). It seemed that, unlike Knesset electoral reform, this reform did not threaten the NRP’s representation and influence. Support for it could allow the party to distinguish itself from the ultraorthodox parties by showing nonpartisan and nonsectarian concern for the political system as a whole. All five NRP MKs supported reform in the first reading in May 1990 (the vote on Libai’s bill). Yet, while some in the NRP believed that the party would reap benefits from the split vote that was possible under the reformed two-ballot system, others were afraid that it would damage its coalition bargaining powers and its representation in government and would help the left by empowering Arab voters. As 1992 approached, NRP became divided on the issue. Its representative in the CLJC continued to support the bill and took an active part in its formulation and promotion. The support of other MKs, however, eroded. The division was between those who adopted (and were pressured to adopt) the scenario that direct election of the PM would strengthen the left, and thus threaten the “greater Israel” ideology of the party, and those who continued to believe that left–right power balance would not be affected by reform. While the party bureau and its Knesset faction continued to support reform, pressures to reject reform from the settlers in the occupied territories—who were afraid that Rabin would lead the center-left to victory in direct elections—started to

160

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

bear fruits. In the second reading, only two NRP MKs supported reform, while three rejected it. NRP played a pivotal role (reflecting its internal divisions) in the struggle for the survival of reform. Its support for the January 1992 decision to return the reform bill to the CLJC was conditioned on a promise that it would return to the plenum after the addition of amendments that would strengthen the Knesset.16 When the amended bill returned to the plenum for the final second and third readings, four of its MKs were absent (it is very likely that two opponents and two supporters paired with each other) while one voted against it. The Ultraorthodox Parties The hostility toward the CFI initiative to adopt a constitution, a bill of rights, and electoral reform, as well as the strategy of reformers to focus their criticism on the ultraorthodox “problem,” led the ultraorthodox parties to an almost automatic negative reaction to the reform initiative. However, a comparison of the different formulas in the coalition agreements concerning electoral reform and government system reform seems to confirm that they perceived the direct election of the PM reform as less worrying than electoral reform. While some expressed fears that direct election of the PM would hurt the powers of the ultraorthodox parties, other ultraorthodox politicians actually expressed support for the reform. The leader of Shas (the Sepharadi ultraorthodox party), Arie Dery, claimed that it was the right cure for the Israeli political system and suggested that its adoption could strengthen his party, which would benefit from the split vote. In contrast, the MKs of Agudat Yisrael showed no signs of supporting the bill, and rejected it with almost the same rhetoric that they used in their struggle against electoral reform. This diversity of stands among the ultraorthodox parties and politicians was hardly expressed in their behavior. No ultraorthodox MK supported reform, and most voted against it in every reading. In the first reading, an ultraorthodox politician who expressed sympathy for the reform explained his rejection as a reaction to the anti-ultraorthodox rhetoric of the reformers. This was also a factor in their decision to reject it in the second and third readings. At that stage, the MKs of Degel Hatorah were under the directive of their spiritual leader, Rabbi Shach, to reject the bill, but Shas faced a dilemma. On the one hand, support for the bill increased within the party. On the other hand, Shas could not violate the directive of Rabbi Shach. Although the party allegedly had a spiritual leader of its own, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, it was still under the influence of Rabbi Shach. In the second reading of January 1992, three of its MKs rejected the bill, while two were absent. This absence, while crucial for the passage of the bill, did not reflect any change in the position of the party, but stemmed from the personal anger of these two MKs at Likud for not blocking police investigations of allegations of misconduct against them.17

THE ACTORS

161

Non-Zionist Left-Wing Parties The Hadash principled position was rejection of direct elections. It perceived reform as a distraction from the major issues of Israeli politics, those of social, economic, and foreign affairs policies (see, e.g., Gozansky 1988). In the first reading (the vote on Libai’s bill), all of its MKs rejected the bill. Later, in reaction to the center-left’s increased support for reform, its MKs agreed to abstain or be absent in the crucial second reading of January 1992. At that stage, the behavior of the parliamentary group was motivated more by the right wing’s opposition to the bill than by any belief in the properties of reform. In the second and third readings of March 1992, when their vote was not crucial, all the party MKs voted against the bill. Other members of parties on the non-Zionist left were divided on the issue. One MK, a “Black Panther” who defected from Hadash, was a harsh opponent of the bill and voted against it in every reading, claiming the initiative was being pushed by capitalist interests and that it would lead to prime ministerial rule with no checks or balances. Two Arab MKs who served as representatives of two small Arab parties cooperated with Labor and supported the bill in the second crucial reading. One of them, who also supported the bill in the third reading, claimed (like right-wing opponents of the bill) that it would empower Arab citizens by making their vote effective in the election of the PM. Right-Wing Parties Like Shinui on the left, Tzomet carried the banner of reform on the right. Not only did it support the bill in every reading, but it also submitted its own radical reform bill immediately after the 1988 elections, helped formulate a later version, took an active part in the pro-reform public campaign, threatened to leave the coalition if Likud failed to allow the bill to pass, and finally left the Government after Likud’s central committee decided to reject reform (Tsiddon, 1991). Two factors explain Tzomet’s zealous support for reform, which stood in contrast to the other right-wing parties’ opposition to it. First, its MKs held an antipolitical, managerial perception, considering the Government’s failure a result of the influence of personal and party political interests on its policies. They claimed that the Government would be successful if it were composed of professionals. Second, support for reform defined Tzomet’s separate identity vis-à-vis the other extreme right-wing parties (Tehiya and Moledet) who rejected it—as well as Likud, which also became an opponent of reform. The other right-wing parties voted against reform in every reading, fearing it would lessen their ability to pressure the Government to respond to their ultranationalist demands, and adopting the notion that reform would strengthen the left (and jeopardize their vision of a Greater Israel) by giving the Arabs influence in the elections for the PM.18

162

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

INTEREST GROUPS

The status and influence of interest groups increased in the 1980s. The willingness of citizens to take part in extraparliamentary activity also grew, and protest activity became more frequent (see chapter four). Pressure groups created an apolitical, nonparty, and popular image for the reform campaign: “In the public struggle for the direct election of the PM, its champions were wise to appeal to public disgust and to present a seemingly apolitical—or in any case nonpartisan—solution, in which one does not play with the political balance of power, but rather with government, public needs and public good” (Gutmann, 1994, p. 57).19 The activity of the pressure groups was central in defining the costs and benefits for MKs’ support or rejection of reform.20 The successful presentation of reform as an apolitical enterprise increased its potential pool of recruiters and supporters (Hermann, 1995). While the Knesset determined which reform would be frozen and which would be promoted, extraparliamentary pressure called simply for change: “An impression arose that among the activists for electoral reform, there were those for whom change was necessary per se—it did not matter what and how you changed, as long as you changed” (Gutmann, 1994, p. 57). No significant interest group publicly rejected reform. This might not be surprising when it comes to pressure groups whose interest is in the rules of the political game, since it is unlikely that a group with the aim of defending the status quo would spontaneously rise in a democratic political system. But protective interest groups, who enjoy the system and could be seen as having vested interests in preserving its structure, could be expected to defend it, as they did in New Zealand when they rejected electoral reform. Yet peak organizations and their leaders—such as the Histadrut (the national workers union) and the different employer organizations—did not reject reform as such, and on some occasions even expressed support for reform and took part in its promotion. Most extraparliamentary opposition to reform was unorganized. Except for some lobbying, conferences, and newspaper ads organized and sponsored by the IDI—whose activity was mainly academic—opposition was expressed mainly by individuals, particularly publicists and academics (and especially political scientists).21 Pro-reform pressure groups, with their huge resources and skilled marketing, overcame this opposition quite easily. In terms of its scope, length, zealousness, resources, and prominence, the public campaign was unprecedented in Israeli politics (Hermann, 1995). Constitution for Israel (CFI) The CFI originated in the activities of a group of law professors from Tel Aviv University.22 The Dean of the Faculty of Law, Reichman, organized a working group whose goal was to prepare a draft of a constitution for Israel

THE ACTORS

163

for the fortieth anniversary of the state. A core group of four professors invited experts from various disciplines, from Israel and abroad, to give their input. In August 1987, the draft constitution was exposed to the public. The proposal was that the entire draft be adopted, first by the Knesset (through the approval of two-thirds of the MKs) and then ratified in a referendum. The draft constitution integrated existing laws with substantive changes in the Israeli regime structure: the adoption of a written and rigid constitution; the institutionalization of judicial review that would be conducted by the Supreme Court; a bill of rights; an MMP electoral system (see chapter four); and direct election of the PM. Parallel to the exposure of the bill to the public, the group was transformed, from a collection of academic experts who joined forces to produce an optimal draft constitution, into a pressure group that focused on promoting its goals by recruiting support from politicians and the public. The CFI continued to use its expertise as a resource to legitimize its proposals and counter the criticism of other experts, to organize academic activities (lectures, conferences, publications), and to send experts to testify in the relevant committees (the 1989 bipartisan committee and the CLJC). The CFI mainly focused on recruiting public support and pressuring politicians, in the name of the public, to promote reform. Its chairman, Reichman, embedded both elements in his personal biography, being an expert and a political activist, a legal scholar and a campaigner against the “system,” in the framework of the DMC and Shinui. The shift from the academic field into the political arena, from a group of experts who addresses the ideal order into a movement that tries to achieve this possibility, was reflected in several ways. Some aspects changed immediately at the beginning of the public campaign in late 1987, while others gradually developed in the 1987–1992 period in response to changing needs and circumstances. These changes occurred in the organizational dimension, in the patterns and magnitude of resource recruitment, in the tools that the CFI used to promote its cause, and in the definition of its goals. At the end of 1987, the CFI was organized and registered as a public association. The composition of its leadership matched the needs of a public campaign, and included experts in marketing, public relations, and advertising, as well as an affluent Jewish-American businessman, who, it was hoped, would help recruit both money and support in the American Jewish community. The public committee of the CFI included businessmen, media experts, academics, and lawyers. It did not include any incumbent politicians, which reflected the desire to project a nonparty image. Yet, it did involve public figures who were identified with various parties and political tendencies, so it could not be identified with a single ideological camp. Around this elite group was a hard core of about 150 activists who could be recruited at any time to organize demonstrations (Bechor, 1996).

164

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

Conducting a public campaign required the recruitment of vast financial resources. Local donations and borrowing enabled the movement to finance several activities at its beginning, but the largest sums were contributed by American Jews. Generous donations were solicited especially from those who were concerned about the orthodox demand for a monopoly on the question of “who is a Jew,” and were convinced that direct election of the PM would decrease their influence in Israeli politics.23 The CFI succeeded in attracting a great deal of attention to its draft constitution. It was dramatically presented in a press conference, distributed among decision-makers, and submitted to the PM and the president in wellcovered media events. The wide exposure also drew much criticism from politicians, legal scholars, and other academics at the very idea of adopting a written and rigid constitution, as well as various components of the draft constitution. To counter this reaction, the CFI decided to address the public directly, believing that “if you want to break into the heart of the political establishment you should outflank through the periphery” (Bechor, 1996, p. 95). The CFI disseminated the draft constitution in hundreds of thousands of copies and also addressed the public through newspaper ads, billboards, public gatherings, volunteer recruitment, and petitions. The campaign for the promotion of the draft constitution had no precedent in Israeli politics.24 Until then we had not witnessed such a vigorous public campaign . . . that activated for the first time American methods for marketing ideas, sophisticated advertising and aggressive political pressure. The committee set new standards in Israel for activating a political lobby. Its people did not hesitate to run after the politicians and to put their clandestine activities in the spotlight. The marketing and advertisement professionals of the committee sold their ideas on the backs of smoky buses, the same as selling toothpaste, and this aggressive marketing succeeded in transferring messages that seemed incomprehensible at the beginning, like the need for a constitution and a civil rights law. (Bechor, 1996, p. 11)

A comparison of opinion polls conducted before and after the campaign, in September 1987 and in January 1988, implies that it had marginal affect on the (supportive) public stance toward the adoption of a constitution.25 However, the vast exposure of the CFI was important for the future because the public became familiar with it and its goals. The prominence of the popular goal of adopting a constitution helped, at that stage, to create a reputable status for the CFI. Government system reform, an initiative that in and of itself was seen as extravagant at the time, still nested in the respected framework of a draft constitution. The CFI held various activities aimed at recruiting public support and putting “public” pressure on politicians. One of these activities was mass demonstrations. Particularly prominent was the huge gathering in April

THE ACTORS

165

1990 that attracted about 100,000 demonstrators. Yet it was impossible to repeatedly recruit large numbers of demonstrators, and the CFI used other activities to maintain its presence as the “people’s tribunal.” Small-scale protests were used in the context of certain events or to focus pressure on specific actors. The CFI also organized citizens to send supportive mail to MKs and even distributed the MKs’ private phone numbers to create (through hundreds of supporters’ phone calls) the image of public pressure. Opinion polls were also used as a substitute for mass activities. Their results—huge public support for reform—not only “proved” that the CFI represented the public, but were even used repeatedly to threaten that the CFI would run in the elections and draw support from the incumbent political parties unless its demands were fulfilled (Inbal, 1991). The CFI also published ads that addressed specific parties and politicians, sending supportive messages to backers of reform and threatening messages to its opponents. The CFI’s marketing and advertising experts skillfully organized media events, from conventional news conferences to gimmicks such as sailing a fleet of yachts publicizing reform. It also invested special efforts in lobbying MKs and members of party institutions. An important audience was that of American Jews, and the CFI campaigned among them and published English materials that presented its ideas and activities (CFI, 1988; Har Zahav, 1990; Yassur, n.d.). American Jews not only supplied the needed financing for the long campaign, but were also important in pressuring Israeli politicians to support reform. Another characteristic of the CFI’s transformation into a pressure group was its increasing flexibility in defining its goals. At the beginning, the CFI ambitious aim was the promotion of a complete constitution (Procaccia, 1987; Reichman 1987b). Later, it incrementally adapted itself to legislative and political realities, and concentrated its efforts on promoting specific reforms. Facing criticism over the direct election of the PM, which focused on the fear that it would open the door for the rise of an undemocratic leader, the CFI chairman declared that adopting this reform would be conditional on the simultaneous (or earlier) adoption of other reforms that would serve as safeguards against such developments. At the beginning of the campaign, these safeguards constituted the entire package of the reforms that were proposed in the draft constitution (Bracha, 1987). At the beginning of 1988, the CFI abandon the idea of promoting a whole constitution and chose instead to advocate three reforms: electoral reform, a bill of rights, and government system reform. Since then, the CFI tended to fit its activities to the legislative agenda and abandoned the pretense of dictating it. In 1988–1989, it put most of its efforts in promoting electoral reform and a bill of rights, parallel to and in coordination with MKs who promoted these initiatives. While the CFI supported direct election of the PM and encouraged MKs who submitted government system reform bills at the end of 1988 and at the beginning of

166

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

1989, it still conditioned its approval in adopting other reforms (Barnea, 1988; Reichman, 1989). In June 1989, the CFI chairman declared, “If there is a proposal for direct election of the PM without a civil rights law, I will be the first to harshly oppose it.”26 At the beginning of the Stinky Trick era, the CFI still attempted to promote the three reforms together, and its chairman declared: “We maintain our assessment that the three laws are a single package.”27 This conditional support vanished when it became apparent that the only initiative promoted in the Knesset was that of government system reform. At the end of 1990—as Labor’s central committee was about to meet to decide the party’s stand on the reform—Reichman (1990a,b) claimed that direct election was not dangerous in and of itself, and that it was the only possible reform under the current conditions. In the framework of justifying and rationalizing the abandonment of conditional support, direct election of the PM was presented as a spearhead, after which the other reforms would pass with less difficulty (CFI, 1991; Inbal, 1991).28 Adaptability in defining goals enabled the CFI to take part in the political game, where compromises are central for establishing supportive coalitions. Its flexibility was apparent when the CFI supported the constantly metamorphosing reform bill, which ended up being far from similar to its original version of government system reform. This open attitude might have been a result of lessons learned from the failed attempt to promote electoral reform. In 1988, the CFI supplied two versions of electoral reform together with other reform proposals, thus giving politicians a (legitimate) space to maneuver, that is, to support one reform and reject another. This was not conducive to building majority support for any one reform. In the case of direct election, the CFI focused on a single reform and also tolerated changes in its content instead of holding on to a competing alternative. A. Horowitz (1990a) used the case of the CFI as an example of a meeting between people with ideas but no political power (CFI) and people with power but no ideas (politicians). These two forces, however, did not always get along, and had times of conflict as well as times of cooperation (Hermann, 1995). Alienation toward politicians was especially prominent after the failure to promote electoral reform to its final legislative stage in the second half of 1988 and during the Stinky Trick era, when politicians as such were the targets of harsh criticism. An accurate description of the CFI’s relationship with politicians was that of a policy of “carrot and stick.” Politicians who promoted the CFI’s initiatives enjoyed the image of “good guys,” while those who rejected it or had reservations at certain stages could find themselves labeled “bad guys.” The CFI not only had ideas to promote, but possessed political power. Thanks to its nonpartisan legitimacy, its labeling of politicians and parties was effective in pressuring them to support reform.

THE ACTORS

167

The Movement for Governance Reform in Israel (MGRI) The MGRI originated from a spontaneous reaction of two citizens to Rabbi Shach’s public denouncement of nonreligious Jews during the Stinky Trick. The two began a hunger strike near the Knesset, expressing disgust with the political system in general, and in particular with a situation wherein Rabbi Shach, an anti-Zionist, seemed to be the one to decide whether Labor or Likud would rule because of his influence on the ultraorthodox parties. Media exposure drew attention to them. Citizens arrived at the scene to express support and some joined the hunger strike, which further added to the newsworthiness of the event.29 Beyond their protest and demand for change, the hunger strikers lacked a clear message. Their success forced them to formulate a more specific program, so they demanded the establishment of an independent public committee whose aim would be to find a solution to the political crisis. This committee, whose members would be nominated by the president, was to address a series of possible reforms, among them government system reform. At its start, the MGRI was suspicious of the other reformers—politicians, mayors, and the CFI. While it agreed to take part in the mass demonstration of April 7, 1990, it refused to support any specific reform and stuck to its demand to establish an independent public committee. In mid-April 1990, the MGRI registered as an association and began to institutionalize its structure. The institutionalization of the movement was crucial for its survival because as merely a media creation, it could not survive. After an initial warm welcome, the mass media lost interest in the movement and became more critical of it (Melamed & Khalfon, 1992). Although the MGRI built central headquarters and action groups and recruited resources for future activities (Goren, 1990), it also took care to preserve its grassroots image: “The movement should continue to send a message of a certain innocence and devotion, and to serve as an example of ordinary citizens. The organizational or institutionalization processes should not blur or hide this message.”30 After it reconciled itself with the fact that its demand for the establishment of independent committee to decide on reform would not be fulfilled, the MGRI defined its own reform agenda that included, among other things, direct election of the PM. Because it was the “only game in town” (in the Knesset, more precisely), its activity concentrated on the promotion of this reform. Understanding that mass mobilization is a risky strategy—after the demonstration it scheduled for the Independence Day of 1990 failed to attract a significant crowd—the MGRI decided to make sure that its presence would be felt all the time, through actions that do not require large numbers. It replaced thousands of spontaneous protesters with dozens of dedicated activists and succeeded in its effort to keep reform on the agenda. The pictures

168

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

of crowds were replaced with pictures of individuals who used different gimmicks, including a repeated hunger strike, to get media attention.31 While the movement preserved its radical image through its protest activities, its negative stance toward the political system and politicians in general, was modified and its criticism became more focused. Like the CFI, it praised politicians and parties that supported reform and denounced its opponents.32 There were high tensions during the Stinky Trick era between the populist MGRI and the elitist CFI. With time, the two cooperated, but disagreements between them surfaced from time to time: the MGRI opposed the CFI’s idea of establishing a pro-reformist party list; the CFI criticized the insistence of the MGRI on targeting a date for a Knesset vote on reform, demonstrating more understanding of the political restraints that faced reformers within the Knesset. While journalists (Gvirtz, 1991; Rothblit, 1991; Samet, 1990b) repeatedly announced the demise of the MGRI, it survived and took an active part in reform promotion. At the end of 1991 and the beginning of 1992, the movement worked in close cooperation with the CFI. The MGRI also became involved in more conventional activities, and its leader demonstrated political realism (e.g., when he stated that he recognizes that direct election is the only game in town) (Kadish, 1991b).33 Hermann (1995, 1996) characterized the MGRI as a heterogeneous, spontaneous, and inclusive movement that held an eclectic worldview, while characterizing the CFI as an elitist and exclusive group. She claimed that the MGRI created antagonism in the establishment and lost its legitimacy and influence, while the CFI, being less radical and closer to the establishment, less dependent on voluntary action, and having more resources, was more successful. While she does point out the major distinctions between the two (although these have blurred over time since the MGRI became somewhat more moderate), she underestimated the importance of the “bad boy” role that the MGRI played. It failed to bring about the establishment of an independent committee on reform during the Stinky Trick era, yet its radical pressures made MKs more willing to seriously consider reform, fearing that decision-making on reform would otherwise be expropriated from them. It can be claimed that the group weakened over time in comparison to its heyday during the Stinky Trick era. One can also say that in several instances it damaged the cause of reform by antagonizing MKs and by placing reform on the agenda at times when silence would have been a better tactic. Yet, even if the more modest and pragmatic CFI was more effective, the combination of the two, although uncoordinated and despite their disagreements, contributed to the reform effort more than the sum of the contribution of each group taken separately. The CFI promoted a concrete proposal for which it supplied solid legitimacy, and it recruited a relatively moderate supportive audience, and more important, allies within the Knesset. The

THE ACTORS

169

MGRI—with its eclectic message (especially at its beginning) and unrestrained populist nature—played the role of the bad boy who can lose his temper and threaten the popular legitimacy of politiciains. The application of pressure along different channels and through various methods, with each group independent of the other’s behavior, helped the reform cause more than would have been the case if only a moderate or a radical route had been activated. The Group of Mayors The CFI recruited the support of mayors (and heads of smaller municipal councils) during its opening campaign for the promotion of the draft constitution “as an alternative power to the central establishment” (Bechor, 1996, p. 109). Since the mayors were already directly elected, and because they possessed a personal local basis of power, they sympathized with the CFI’s proposals for personal-district elections and the empowerment of local government. The mayors were the first to recognize the potential of the Stinky Trick for the promotion of reform. They began with their own protest activities, but soon coordinated them with the CFI (but not with the MGRI, who saw them as a group of opportunistic politicians). The mayors focused their activities on promoting direct election of the PM, claiming to represent the success of such a reform at the local level. The independent action of the mayors faded quickly, yet they continued to be activated by the CFI. Mayors participated in CFI demonstrations, signed its pro-reform ads, and took part in various other public activities.34 The mayors used their public status and intrapartisan influence to recruit support, and also mobilized the financial and organizational resources of their municipalities to support protest activities.35 The Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs After a series of internal debates and workshops with experts, this research institute suggested its own version of direct election of the PM—evidently inspired by the American model in terms of its emphasis on checks and balances—and publicly expressed its support for reform. At first it focused on academic activities such as conferences and seminars with experts, public figures, politicians, and journalists, and also on supplying politicians with expert advice. The Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs (1992a,b) represented itself as a group that left lobbying efforts to others, yet was also involved in public activities such as the publication of special materials and newspapers ads in support of reform. While these publications dealt mainly with substance—the different reform bills, for example (Har Zahav, 1990)—they were evidently one-sided. The Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs put its academic credibility in the service of the reform campaign. Like the CFI, it supported reform even when it was substantially different from its own version. Journalists who

170

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

investigated the financing of the pro-reform campaign claimed that the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs was used as a channel for passing along tax-free donations to the reform campaign (Berkovitch, 1991). Other Israeli Groups Additional organizations helped the two major groups, the CFI and the MGRI, in their reform campaign. Among them was the Committee of Concerned Citizens, who moved its agenda from the promotion of electoral reform to the promotion of government system reform and supplied activists and resources for the campaign. Other interest groups—youth movements, workers councils, student organizations—whose aims were sectoral in essence also joined these activities at certain times. The most prominent among these groups were the Organization of Israel Defense Force Disabled Veterans and the Association of Americans and Canadians in Israel. The former independently organized a protest at the time of the Stinky Trick and conducted hunger strikes. It later coordinated its activities with the CFI. The Association of Americans and Canadians in Israel supplied both volunteers and financing, and was especially important in helping to send pro-reform messages to North American Jews, whose important role in the politics of reform is discussed next. North American Jews Jewish individuals, organizations, and funding from outside Israel, especially from the United States, were recruited to support the cause of reform. The image of the issue as apolitical and as cutting across parties made it easier to call for the involvement of the Jewish Diaspora, whose members usually refrained from explicit involvement in internal Israeli affairs. Many leaders of the Diaspora Jews joined the Israeli public in publicly supporting “change.”36 Many Reform and Conservative Jews were convinced that direct election of the PM would decrease the power of the ultraorthodox parties. This support was important because these organizations and leaders have influence over Israeli politicians, particularly because of their involvement in financing political campaigns and in promoting Israeli interests in the United States. Also, most of the financing for the reform campaign, which gave the campaign sustainability over a long period, came from North American Jews. EXPERTS

The involvement of experts—legal scholars, political scientists, and other academics—in the politics of government system reform was greater and more intense than their previous involvement in the politics of electoral reform. Their activities included the production and presentation of profes-

THE ACTORS

171

sional reports to different forums who discussed the reforms—like the bipartisan committee of 1989, the CLJC, intraparty committees and institutions, and conferences of academics and politicians. They also addressed the public through newspapers columns and other publications, and signed pro- and antireform petitions and advertisements. A mail poll conducted in mid-1990 indicated that support and opposition for “change” among the “experts” was similar to that of the overall population: a majority supported reform, although they were less enthusiastic about direct election of the PM.37 Some described the discourse among experts as a debate between pro-reform legal scholars and antireform political scientists (Beilin, 1996). The mail poll found no significant differences between the attitudes of the academics from those two disciplines. The image was created because political scientists were prominent among reform opponents while legal scholars and lawyers—the designers of the draft constitution and the MKs who championed it—stood at the front line of the reform camp. A majority of the experts who published newspapers columns on the issue rejected direct election of the PM and tended to support other reforms (Rahat, 2000). The difficulty of anticipating the consequences of a reform that was new and institutionally unique created a challenge for the experts. Professional status was important in supplying (or refuting) legitimacy for reform. In light of his poll of experts, Diskin concluded: “The main finding that arises from the different grading given to the different alternatives [The poll suggested five versions of government system reform and the preservation of the status quo] is that there is no consensus among academics as to the assessment of the current constitutional situation, nor concerning the different alternatives for its change.”38 The problem, from the point of view of the reformers, was that experts (especially as a community), with their skepticism and distinction between reforms, did not see fit to promote a single specific reform with the necessary wholehearted determination, along with the numerous compromises and changes involved along the way. An additional finding that indicates the experts’ caution was that 91 percent of them agreed (72.6 percent strongly agreed and 18.4 percent agreed) with the claim: “It is hard to support one aspect of government system reform if you do not know the other elements of the suggested reform.”39 Ehud Sprinzak (1990) was the most prominent supporter of reform in the political science community. He believed that reform would serve as a tool for solving the problem he identified in his academic research (Sprinzak, 1986), that of inherent illegalism in the Israeli polity. He saw direct election of the PM as a solution not only to to problem of corruption, but also to the problem of governability and the crisis in representation and efficiency. Sprinzak (1991) was also the only expert to address the disciplinary claims about the superiority of parliamentary regimes. He claimed that his

172

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

colleagues were fearful ultraconservatives, and that there is no scientific consensus that parliamentarism is superior. Yet he himself “suffered” from his ability to distinguish between the different versions of the reform bill. After the bill was amended leading up to the second and third readings of March 1992, Sprinzak (1992) argued that it became worse than either the current system or the alternative proposal for PM government. Its adoption, he claimed, would block the way to adopting any real reform because after their disappointment from the defects of the sterilized reform that was adopted, the people would lose confidence and refrain from supporting its amendments and other needed reforms. The CFI initiatives won far less support among experts than any other group of actors. Many experts responded critically to the draft constitution. Most critics dealt with the proposed document as a whole and with the very idea of adopting a written and rigid constitution; a few concentrated on government system reform.40 While there were those who blamed the experts for being motivated by human weaknesses such as envy (Bechor, 1996), it is more plausible to claim that the basic qualities of an academic expert—skepticism and commitment to scientific inquiry—were the reasons for this response, in this case as in the former case of the electoral reform initiatives. In earlier stages, when the draft constitution written by law professors from Tel Aviv University was published, expert opinions were tolerated and even had some influence. Later, especially when the legislation was being promoted, experts became more of a burden. MK Lynn argued (Ha’aretz, letters to the editorial board, December 3, 1991), leading up to the second reading: “After three years of hard labor we are a little tired of reading critical columns of these or other professors. I came to the conclusion that practical experience in political life is necessary for a fuller understanding of the changes needed in the Israeli democratic method.” A year and a half before publishing this critique, Lynn had devoted three of the CLJC meetings, which he chaired, to hearing various expert opinions. In retrospect, it seems that this invitation was mainly a symbolic demonstration of a “serious” approach, as no politician seemed to be influenced, at that stage, from the claims that were raised by the experts. Although the community of experts could not be recruited, as such, to support reform, both sides used the label of expertise instrumentally to justify their stands. Each side made selective use of expert inputs, emphasizing the claims of those who supported its stands and praising their professionalism while ignoring the experts from the other side or attacking their expertise and motivations. Examples of this could be found on both sides. Likud MK Kaufman (1991, p. 12), for example, in an antireform article, claimed that reformers were motivated by party interests, being “close friends of Shimon Peres [Labor chairman],” while the professors who opposed reform (usually labeled as “leftists” by the right) were described as “famous and authoritative acade-

THE ACTORS

173

mics.” Because experts expressed the harshest extraparliamentary criticisms on reform, MKs who supported it sometimes chose to criticize the whole community. When Rubinstein (himself an academic) presented his bill in the first reading, he argued that, unlike experts and publicists, the role of the MK is not only to criticize but also to offer a solution. His colleague, Poraz, argued in his speech in the Knesset on May 15, 1990, that a committee composed of experts would be unable to come up with any reform because each one would have a different proposal. In the deliberations during the second reading, Rubinstein criticized the impractical approach of experts, claiming: “A political science lecturer can sit on Mount Scopus in Jerusalem [at the Hebrew University] and draw himself an ideal constitution that fits any country, but it has one small drawback—it cannot be adopted in the Knesset. What can pass the Knesset is the best and is also satisfying in itself” (Twelfth Knesset Records, January 2, 1992). In the discussion of the possibility that reform would allow for a divided majority, Rubinstein cynically claimed, “To the credit of some of our colleagues at the universities, I want to say that either they studied too much, or that they did not. They are unfamiliar with the current situation” (Protocols of the CLJC, December 11, 1990). The change of attitude among the reformers toward Abraham Diskin, a political scientist, was instructive. After he published a critique on reform (Diskin & Diskin, 1991), reformers accused him of doing it in order to be the one who would conduct opinion polls for the Likud in the next elections. Eighteen months earlier, the same people showed esteem for his professional opinion, recruiting him to advise the group of four MKs in their formulation of a joint reform proposal. The IDI, a think tank, was the main body that organized activity against reform. This think tank, which dealt with different aspects of Israeli democracy, began to address the issue of reform of the regime structure in 1989, organizing two international conferences on the subject. From these activities it developed a stand against direct election of the PM and in support of “PM Government” (Diskin, 1989; Gutmann, 1989). In 1990, IDI coordinated most of the extraparliamentary actions of the opposition to direct election.41 Some of the experts who took part in formulating the draft constitution continued to support the CFI along the way, even when it redefined its goals. Other experts joined them, took part in protest activities, and expressed support for reform on different occasions. The CFI and the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs organized conferences of experts to counter the IDI conferences.42 In any case, the experts’ opposition to reform was marginalized in the face of protest and support for “change.” While the IDI’s activities influenced the discourse, its attempt to market its criticism of reform to the public was unsuccessful. Limited resources, compared to the pro-reform groups, prevented the IDI from effectively marketing its stands.

174

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

Beyond writing newspapers columns, experts took part in the politics of reform by testifying before Governmental, Knesset, and intraparty committees. A. Diskin and H. Diskin (1991) went even further and published a position paper on the eve of the vote in the Likud’s central committee on the party’s stand toward reform. This move, together with reports and articles by other experts on the issue, gave a professional, nonparty legitimacy to PM Shamir’s rejection of reform:43 “It is clear to me that reforms in governance patterns are needed in order to strengthen the state and its institutions. But after I consulted political science experts, I concluded that the proposed change would not improve governance patterns—and instead there are better and more useful ways to achieve this goal” (Allon, 1995, p. 252). Likud MK Lynn, a champion of reform, was enraged when he discovered that some experts whom he had formerly invited to the CLJC supplied this argument: “They oppose the law because it is not their own proposal. Envy drives them out of their mind.” At the same time, he was careful to note that respected professors could be also found among the initiators of the bill (Ha’aretz, October 2, 1991). As independent actors, experts had some impact at the beginning of the process—in formulating proposals and in deliberations in closed forums—far from the public debate. When reform became a public issue, the opinions of experts were usually no more than weapons used by others in an adversarial discourse. MASS MEDIA

In analyzing the Hebrew language newspapers dealing with the politics of reform in 1987–1992, it is useful to distinguish between commentary, on the one hand, and news coverage, on the other. The debate in the op-ed pages was altogether balanced: the newspapers supplied a stage for the expression of various opinions and the number of pro-reform and antireform editorial columns was roughly equal in the three prominent dailies, Yedioth Aharonoth, Ma’ariv, and Ha’aretz.44 Ha’aretz editorials opposed reform, together with a majority of its columnists (Rahat, 2000).45 Yet reformers were represented extensively in Ha’aretz and other dailies because they wrote and published more than their opponents.46 The two large evening newspapers—Yedioth Aharonoth and Ma’ariv—dealt with reform in their editorials as a running commentary to Knesset deliberations. In Yedioth Aharonoth, three different journalists expressed support for reform while Ma’ariv changed its stands from support to rejection—but after the bill was adopted, it expressed satisfaction.47 In another evening newspaper, Hadashot, different journalists expressed different opinions in the editorials (Hadashot, June 11, 1991, November 25, 1991, December 23, 1991, January 1, 1992). Although Davar had ties to Labor, which championed reform, its editorials opposed reform

THE ACTORS

175

(October 3, 1991, January 14, 1992). The Jerusalem Post, an English daily that serves as a major mediator between Israeli politics and English-speaking Jews in Israel and around the world, was different in this respect. It gave expression to various opinions, but was heavily pro-reform in both its editorials and political columns.48 The media—with the help of experts who wrote columns—was a balanced arena in comparison to other arenas: the pro-reform interest groups dominated civil society; most of the public supported reform; the president sympathized with the reformist cause; reform opponents among the politicians tended to keep silent. But the media also had an important contribution to reform promotion in its news coverage. Not only did it expose the reformers to the public, but the style in which coalition politics and ultraorthodox parties were covered helped to magnify and highlight the problem to which reformers linked their initiative. At the time of the Stinky Trick, this behavior was especially obvious, but it was the case also in more “normal” times. Melamed and Khalfon’s (1992) study of media coverage of protest group activity at the time of the Stinky Trick claims that the initial news value of protesters originated in the context of nonpartisan idealists who stood against a political system in its ugliest, most opportunistic expressions. This newsworthiness was sustained for a while because of public support (created as a result of the initial exposure that made the protesters famous). However, the conclusion of this study, that the media built and destroyed protest, is wrong. The media gave reformers necessary and significant exposure, but just when it began to “mourn” the death of protest, the activists reorganized and the pressures for reform changed form. Not only did the protest survive, but protesters also managed to continue their pressure and manufacture news through activities performed by fewer activists. The CFI, and especially its chairman, became a respected source of opinions on different issues that were linked to reform. Protest groups became important advertisers, sometimes buying full pages for their propaganda, which probably helped them secure additional free coverage in the news and op-ed sections. Pressure groups recognized the importance of the mass media and, with the help of advertising, marketing, and public relations professionals, skillfully used it to promote their cause. The publication of the draft constitution, for example, was a well-orchestrated media event. It began with a press conference, which was followed by media events such as presenting the proposal to the PM and the president, and continued with organized public activities in which prominent public figures participated. Indeed, the major daily newspapers covered the presentation of the proposal and addressed its content. Its initial unveiling to the public was followed by various responses of columnists and experts.49 The CFI followed up with various public activities that kept the issue in the public eye. For example, mass gatherings in January and

176

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

November 1988 were well covered and helped publicize the CFI goals, and even their smaller scale activities were found newsworthy thanks to the skillful planning of CFI’s personnel. The MGRI was especially talented in staging events that won visual coverage. THE PUBLIC AND PUBLIC OPINION

The level of public involvement in acts of support for reform was unprecedented, and surrounded an issue that until then did not appeal to many (Goldberg, 1999b; Hermann, 1995). Thousands took part in the two demonstrations of 1988, and tens of thousands in the demonstration of April 1990. More than half a million citizens signed the petition calling for government system change that was submitted to the president at the end of April 1990. Tens of thousands of citizens sent postcards and form letters—which were distributed by pressure groups in support of reform—to the president, ministers, and MKs. These actions were important in terms of putting direct pressure on politicians and supplying legitimacy to other actors (the president, the pressure groups) to promote reform in the name of the public. But these high levels of activity were limited to short spurts. Sustaining public pressure required the use of other tools for presenting “public opinion.” Lobbying and protest in the name of “the people” were legitimized through the use of opinion polls that showed a large majority of the public continuing to support reform. This enabled reformers to claim that they acted as the agents of the public, and the protest groups to represent themselves as “the tip of the iceberg” (Hermann, 1995, p. 285). In the face of all the data that indicated massive public support for reform, it was hard, especially for politicians, to publicly reject it. Opinion polls conducted before the CFI entered the scene indicated that the public, like the politicians at the time, was not enamored of the idea of government system reform, preferring solutions within the framework of the existing government system.50 After the CFI became involved, direct election was identified as part of the reform package that should be promoted.51 The failure of the attempts at promoting the reforms that won more support in the past—a rigid and written constitution, electoral reform, a bill of rights— paved the way for the promotion of the direct election initiative. In 1990, the public was ready to accept a new radical initiative, and in any case it had no clear preference for any particular reform—sometimes it even failed to distinguish among them. What the public demanded in 1990 was “change.”52 From the start of its public activity, the CFI used opinion polls to show public support for its initiatives. It did not refrain from presenting opinion polls results in a manipulative manner. Two polls conducted before and after its campaign for a constitution indicated that support for the initiative grew by only 3 percent, that is, within the margin of error (Yedioth Aharonoth, January 28, 1988). The CFI, however, published an ad on the basis of these

THE ACTORS

177

results that “the constitution is gaining momentum” and that “public support is on the rise” (Yedioth Aharonoth, February 10, 1988). The polls that the pressure groups commissioned were seen as newsworthy and were published in the press, allowing reformers to greatly influence the supply of data. In addition to showing public support for reform, opinion polls were used to threaten parties with the electoral price they would pay for not supporting reform. Such poll results were used especially to pressure Likud before and after its central committee decision. At that time, the masses did not take part in the pro-reform activities, and the memory of April 1990’s mass activity became more and more blurred. For example, after the Likud’s central committee decided to reject reform, and after most of its MKs voted against the reform bill, the MGRI published the results of a Gallup opinion poll it had commissioned in an ad that emphasized the following findings: 7 percent declared they would not vote for a party that will cause reform to fail, and thus Likud could be expected to lose three seats; 70 percent of the voters support reform; 61 percent of Likud voters see reform as crucial; 39 percent identify Likud as causing reform to fail; and 11 percent identify Likud chairman Shamir with the failure to reform. The ad declared: “Now we are not talking ideology. Now the mandates are talking. The seats. Likud is going to lose at least three seats if it causes the law of direct election of the PM to fail again” (Ha’aretz, March 15, 1992). SUMMARY

Various actors contributed to the creation and intensification of the pressure for “change.” The MKs determined which reform would be promoted as well as its specific content. The Government often kept its distance, as it had done previously, since its coalition partners disagreed on reform. The president contributed to the case of reform, supporting it in the name of the people and helping the reformers by demonstrating sympathy and recruiting resources. The Supreme Court helped not only by giving reformers support in countering parliamentary maneuvers, but also by granting credence to their criticism of the political system and their demands for a change in political conduct. Pressure groups were central in creating and sustaining pressure for reform, but they had to come in terms with the fact that the MKs defined which reform would be promoted, that is, they recognized that direct election of the PM was “the only game in town.” The mass media was more even-handed in the debate (except for the Jerusalem Post), but it nevertheless helped reformers by exposing them to the public through commenting on their demands, covering their activities, and emphasizing and magnifying the “problems” they addressed. Experts were useful for formulating reform proposals and giving their input to committees, but in terms of promoting (and blocking) reform, they and their

178

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

expertise were used more to neutralize the experts from the other side, not to substantially influence the content of reform. Work was “distributed” between those who continuously advocated for “change” (especially the pressure groups), those who supplied legitimacy to the demands for reform (public opinion, the Supreme Court and the president), and those who determined its content (the political elite). The latter included the hard core of pro-reform legislators whose actions were influenced by coalitional restraints. The division of power among the various actors is evident when compared with the concentration of power in the arenas where the previous attempts at reform took place. This division created the necessary maneuvering space for the reformers, as will be shown in the next chapter.

SEVEN

The Stages of the Reform Process and Overcoming the Barriers

THIS CHAPTER PRESENTS a stage-by-stage analysis of the process that led to the adoption of government system reform and an examination of the way that reformers, for the first time in the political history of Israel, overcame all barriers for reform. THE STAGES OF REFO RM PROMOTION

As suggested in chapter one, the reform process is divided into four stages. In the first stage (initiative and recognition), government system reform penetrated the decision-makers’ agenda. It was transformed from being an initiative with no followers into a respected and legitimate alternative. This stage started with the publication of the CFI draft constitution and ended in March 1990 with the presentation of the reform bills for a preliminary reading. At the beginning of the second stage (initial approval), the reform bills passed the preliminary reading. Carried on the wave of extraparliamentary protest and the call for “change,” they also passed the first reading in May 1990, which marked the end of this stage. The third stage (struggle for survival) was all about the survival of reform as a viable alternative. Support could no longer be seen as a symbolic or an expressive act but as a commitment to a specific reform. The third stage ended after reformers succeeded in presenting the bill for a second reading at the beginning of January 1992. The final stage (reform adoption) began in January 1992 and ended in March 1992, with the final adoption of the reform bill. Initiative and Recognition (August 1987–March 1990) Direct election was a new issue, unknown to most politicians and to the public. In order to penetrate public and decision-makers’ agendas, not only was 179

180

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

acquaintance per se needed, but also legitimacy for the very idea of government system reform. The CFI campaign earned much exposure and successfully transformed the draft constitution from an academic product into a public matter. In addition to its paid advertisements and massive dissemination of the draft constitution, it received significant media coverage (both news and commentaries). Sympathy (although no binding commitment) was expressed by figures from the top of the establishment: the PM, the president, and the president of the Supreme Court (Reichman, 1987a). Already at this early stage, the public was “recruited” to promote reform through the use of opinion polls that showed majority support for the adoption of a constitution. At that time, direct election of the PM was just a single element in an overall package. If the general proposal, the draft constitution, got its share of critical reactions from commentators and experts, those for the direct election were even harsher. For example, it was reported that senior officials in the Ministry of Justice expressed reservations concerning the very idea of adopting a constitution, but their main criticism was on the “proposal for establishing a government in a pattern that is uncommon over the world” (Davar, October 2, 1987). There were some who saw certain elements of the constitution proposal in a positive light and called, whether for tactical (Procaccia, 1987) or substantive (Samet, 1987; Tzadok, 1988a) reasons, for withdrawing the direct election idea. Zamir (1987), former state attorney general, supported the idea of adopting a constitution, and especially the element of a bill of rights, but urged putting aside direct election, for both substantive reasons (fear of electing a dangerous leader) and tactical ones (as a radical reform with a slim chance of being adopted). At that stage, the CFI insisted on promoting a complete package, and direct election was only a single element in what it saw as a well-crafted system of checks and balances (Bracha, 1987; Reichman, 1987b). Sympathy for direct election, as a separate element, was almost unheard of at the time, and was expressed only by those who had championed government system reform in the past (Weiss, 1987a,b). In light of this cold welcome, one would not anticipate that direct election would be the single initiative that the CFI would be able to successfully promote (in a somewhat different version than its original proposal) and with such huge public support. But while it was indeed a cool welcome, the government system reform nevertheless received significant and serious attention, which previous similar initiatives had failed to obtain.1 At that time, direct election could not have survived on the agenda as a distinct proposal because its appeal was low. Even its initiators thought it should not stand on its own. Its appearance within a whole package— wrapped by the old, recognized, and legitimate demands for institutional reform with the aim of protecting civil rights and improving governability— was crucial for its survival. The exposure of the CFI, with its more familiar

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

181

and supported proposals, such as electoral reform and human rights legislation, was an asset for a future unpredicted even by the CFI—a future in which direct election would stand on its own in the struggle for reform. At the beginning of 1988, prior to its first mass gathering, the CFI decided to focus on the promotion of three reforms: electoral reform, Basic Law: Human Rights, and direct election of the PM. About 15,000 people took part in the gathering that invoked (mostly) critical reactions from politicians who, until that stage, were mostly indifferent toward the CFI’s initiatives (Bechor, 1996). Right-wing politicians suspected the CFI of being a leftist movement; left-wing politicians criticized the CFI for escapism, ignoring the main problems of foreign affairs and security; and the religious parties expressed their traditional opposition to the proposal for a constitution. The fact that politicians, publicists, and academics addressed the initiative, even negatively, indicated that it had succeeded in attaining the status of a serious proposal. At the end of 1987, the CFI focused its efforts on helping MKs promote civil rights legislation, a move that was blocked by the religious parties. In 1988, it focused on promoting electoral reform, and succeeded in integrating its proposal into the reform bill and helping it pass in a first reading. No concerted effort was made to promote the direct election initiative. The CFI insisted that it should be adopted only after the adoption of some civil rights legislation, so the powers of the directly elected PM would be checked. No significant activity related to government system reform took place in the eleventh Knesset. The status of government system reform was relatively low, and it was not even perceived as deserving a (symbolic) mention in the parties’ platforms for the 1988 elections. Most parties addressed the issue of electoral reform in their 1988 elections platforms, but only the tiny Tzomet and Shinui parties included the direct election of the PM. After the elections, in their attempt to build a governing coalition, the two large parties competed with each other for the support of the ultraorthodox parties. Their criticized readiness to fulfill demands for religious legislation was used to raise the initiative for direct election. Some presented direct election as a better solution than electoral reform to the “problem” of the blackmail power of the ultraorthodox parties. President Herzog called for government system reform at the time of coalition building. MK Rafael Eitan (Tzomet) and MK Rubinstein (Shinui) even suggested that a unity Government could be reestablished with the sole or main purpose of adopting the reform. After the formation of the new unity Government, government system reform penetrated the parliamentary arena. Five private member bills suggesting government system reform (including the Landau-Netanyahu bill that won the support of the Likud Knesset faction) were submitted between December 1988 and February 1989. They were submitted by MKs from both

182

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

large and small parties, both right and left leaning: Likud (from both Herut and Liberal Party), Labor, Shinui, and Tzomet. This variety of initiators illustrates that, at its beginning, the initiative was not seen as exclusively and clearly serving the interests of any particular kind of party. Unlike the CFI, the MKs who initiated the bills did not explicitly condition their promotion of government system reform on the previous adoption of other reforms. Some even stated clearly that there is no such relationship between it and other reforms (Tsiddon, 1989). While we should keep in mind that these were only 5 out of 1,491 private member bills that were submitted in the twelfth Knesset (of which only about 10 percent passed all the legislative hurdles and became laws), this was a significant milestone for a reform proposal formerly considered extraneous. The most significant sign of an increase in the status of direct election was, however, its inclusion in the Government program (as an issue that should be discussed) and its presence on the agenda for deliberations of the bipartisan Likud-Labor committee. A new initiative that not long before could have been seen as strange and out of context was being treated as a respectable alternative. In accordance with the agreement between Labor and Likud to refrain from private initiatives for one year and to wait for the conclusions of the bipartisan committee, the direct election bills were frozen. Up until March 1990, the CFI and the reformist MKs invested their efforts in the attempts at promoting electoral reform and civil rights legislation. In retrospect, direct election only profited from being a secondary reform in the 1988–1989 period. The issue was kept out of the struggle between Labor and Likud over the support of the religious parties and therefore was not perceived as a serious threat to the religious parties or as worthwhile coalition currency for Likud and Labor. In 1989, the media addressed direct election in various contexts, often in the framework of electoral reform, which was a more prominent reform alternative at the time. At the beginning of 1989, when the private member bills were submitted in the Knesset, reform met some harsh criticism (Geffen, 1989; Goldberg, 1989; Schweitzer, 1989). In April, direct election was addressed again, after experts who took part in an IDI conference criticized it and suggested the alternative reform of PM government (Carmon, 1989). A deliberation in the central committee of Ratz, entitled “Ratz’s Stand on Electoral Reform,” conducted on June 4, was indicative of the improved status of direct election, as both lecturers and the audience referred to it as a viable reform alternative. The Likud’s intraparty committee, which dealt with (delaying) electoral reform, made direct election a more feasible option, first by relating to it (although opposing it) and later by making electoral reform conditional upon government system reform. Public statements of Labor chairman Peres in support of reform further contributed to its viability.

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

183

Politicians and the public became more and more aware of the direct election initiative. Although it was received very cooly sometimes, it did accumulate enough legitimacy to enable its submission as a bill as well as its penetration into the reform discourse alongside the old issue of electoral reform. Because its legislation was frozen, the proposal could gain recognition and legitimacy without being perceived as a “real” threat to potential veto players. After the repeated failures at promoting the veteran reform proposals, direct election was still left in the field—a viable option, yet free of the burdens of rejection that such reforms as electoral reform and the adoption of a written and rigid constitution had accumulated for decades. Initial Approval (March–May 1990): A Majority for “Change” The central theme of this stage—which was concurrent with the Stinky Trick era—was the demand for “change.” Most of those who demanded “change,” as well as most of those who responded to this demand, lacked a clear vision of its specific meaning. MKs, interest groups, and experts suggested numerous reform proposals at various forums, such as in the media, in the CLJC, and at demonstrations. No one rose to the defense of the institutional status quo, so the struggle was between the various versions of reform, since it was an almost unanimous feeling that the situation warranted change. Not only was extraparliamentary pressure not focused on a particular reform, even the legislators themselves were unfocused. MKs’ voting on direct election bills did not necessarily express their support for it, but rather their desire to demonstrate responsiveness to pressures for “change.” Direct election was a convenient response to the demand for change because most parties had no firm opinion about it, which meant fewer obstacles for the leaders of the large parties in establishing a governing coalition than the advancement of electoral reform or civil rights legislation. Its promotion was also seen as a sincere expression of the will to change, as the bill was thought to have better chances than these alternatives. In order to exploit this window of opportunity, the four initiators of the direct election bills decided to postpone the attempt to formulate a commonly accepted version of reform. The preliminary reading of the four reforms bills took place four days after Shamir’s Government was ousted in a no-confidence vote. The discussion in the plenum began with the rejection—on procedural grounds—of the request by the CLJC chairman to put all four bills to a single joint vote. As customary in an initial reading, the four proposals were briefly presented by their initiators and then received a response from a Government representative, the Minister of Justice. He expressed rejection in the name of Government and based it, oddly, on a decision of a committee of ministers from November 1988 (made when Labor was still part of the Government coalition) that determined that no private

184

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

member reform bill would be submitted until the Labor-Likud committee formulated a mutually acceptable version of reform. Most MKs were absent from the preliminary reading and the four bills passed in four separate votes with the support of eleven to fifteen MKs and the rejection of one to four. While the CLJC deliberation of the bills a week later was clearly under the influence of events and protests, most members of the CLJC—thirteen MKs—were absent. Four MKs (among them three of the bills’ initiators) voted in support of the bills, sending them without any change for a first reading, and only two were opposed. These high rates of absence in the plenum and the CLJC confirm that reform did not draw much attention at that time. Its initiators conducted a parliamentary “snatch,” with no apparent adversarial struggle between supporters and opponents of reform. Before the preliminary reading, the media paid very little attention to direct election. The success of the bills in the preliminary reading renewed interest in direct election, but media coverage was still very limited in scope compared to future readings.2 Demands for electoral reform were still heard, sometimes combined with the call for direct election. There was much confusion, and some expressions of support for “change” failed to distinguish between the two reforms. The extraparliamentary protest started a week after the Government was ousted. Protest was focused on the large parties’ wooing of the ultraorthodox parties as well as individual MKs who defected from their parties. A variety of remedies were suggested. Three Likud mayors, who called for direct election for both MKs and the PM, were the first to organize public protest. The CFI protested against the surrender of Labor to the demands of Agudat Yisrael to freeze the legislation of electoral reform under the banner “Horse Traders Are Stealing Our State” (Ha’aretz, March 25, 1990). At the time, the CFI adopted a radical antiestablishment line. Its chairman was quoted as saying, “A quarter-million Israelis should be recruited to come to the Knesset and put it under siege” (Yedioth Aharonoth, March 25, 1990).3 The hunger strike, which began at the end of March, drew more and more attention from the media and became very prominent at the beginning of April. It was a protest against politicians in general, both those who exploited their blackmail power and those who surrendered to it, and called for “change.” Its spontaneous and authentic character drew expressions of support from the president and from many citizens. After several days, the hunger strikers increased from two to fourteen. Increasing numbers of individuals expressed their support by visiting them, and various groups—youth movements, student organizations, and so on—publicly announced their support for the cause. What this cause was, however, remained unclear. The leading figure among the hunger strikers was sometimes quoted demanding electoral reform and sometimes government system reform, often simultaneously. Consequently, the hunger strikers formulated a demand that focused on

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

185

the way solutions would be formulated rather than advocating a specific reform. They called on citizens to sign a petition that declared a loss of confidence in the political system; a determination that a new government system is needed; and an appeal to the president to nominate an independent committee that would formulate a proposal for a new government system to be ratified by a referendum. During April, more than half a million citizens signed the petition. This act expressed skepticism over the ability of politicians to rise above their vested interests and formulate a reform that would improve the functioning of the political system. MKs felt threatened by the demand to expropriate their legislative authority. The CFI, which was somewhat pushed aside, turned to the spontaneous protesters and asked for their cooperation. It aimed to channel the successful protest—which was seen sometimes even as a threat to democracy—to promote its proposals. At the beginning, however, the hunger strikers were very suspicious of other reformers. They refused to support the CFI’s concrete proposals, seeing themselves as a pure and authentic grassroots movement and the CFI as a group of patronizing professors trying to exploit their success. They considered the CFI’s relationships with reformist politicians (mayors and MKs) suspicious, regarding them all as self-interested opportunists (Bechor, 1996). The mayors and the CFI organized a mass demonstration on April 7, calling for “Changing the Government System.” The ad that announced the demonstration included the three reforms that the CFI had attempted to promote since 1988: direct election, electoral reform, and a bill of rights. The hunger strikers agreed to take part in the demonstration, but continued to quarrel with the CFI and the mayors, demanding that no concrete reforms be suggested at the gathering. One journalist tried to make some order out of the numerous reform proposals at the time and identified two versions of electoral reform, four versions of direct election of the PM, and the hunger strikers’ proposal to establish an independent committee, whose recommendations would be ratified by a referendum (Yedioth Aharonoth, April 8, 1990). The 100,000–strong demonstration was a peak in the mobilization of the masses in support of “change.” The ambiguity of the meaning of “change” did not harm the promotion of direct election, but instead helped it. It paradoxically left MKs, who were the targets of protest, free to decide which reform would be promoted (and which would not) as a response to the popular demand for “change.” Extraparliamentary pressure seemed to fade after the climax of the April 7 mass demonstration. The scope of media coverage of the protests decreased and sympathy was replaced with criticism (Melamed & Khalfon, 1992). For example, Meretz MK Sarid (1990) harshly criticized the overall smearing of parliamentary democracy; the confusion over the goals of the protest; the involvement of mayors who were under criminal investigation for

186

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

wrongdoings; the internal factionalism and conflicts among protesters; and the violent language used by a group that purported to be untainted. He blamed the CFI’s chairman for cynically exploiting a protest movement with good intentions, directing it to press for promoting direct election rather than a constitution and civil rights legislation. Horowitz (1990b) described the hunger strikers, writing, “this is maybe the poorest protest movement in the intellectual sense that ever arose in Israel. Its speakers are characterized by substantial ignorance of political science and constitutional law.”4 When the pressure groups established a joint headquarters and the MGRI was institutionalized, commentators begun to mourn the demise of public protest. The conflicts between the CFI, the mayors, and the MGRI, and among the activists of the latter, damaged the image of purity and authenticity. A mass demonstration scheduled for the beginning of May failed to attract the masses, although the mayors called for a half-day strike of their workers and organized transportation for them. In their desperation, the remaining activists radicalized their protest in order to maintain their visibility (Galili, 1990).5 But the protest groups did not fade away. The decrease in their status in the media, the intergroup and intragroup conflicts between moderates and radicals, and the decrease in mass participation should all be seen as expected developments. The groups adapted to these circumstances and survived. They replaced mass protest with more focused, newsworthy protests, that required a smaller number of participants. The momentum gained at the mass demonstration was maintained when citizens used the phone numbers that were distributed there, called the MKs, and pressured them to support reform. The IDF Disabled Veterans organized their own protest that included a hunger strike. The Supreme Court was invited to criticize the system through responding to petitions—one of them by a lawyer who was on a hunger strike near the president’s mansion—to make the coalition agreements public. Regional and local marches and gatherings also took place. Although disagreements did exist between the groups, particularly when the specific goals of the protest were concerned, they succeeded in establishing a joint headquarters that would coordinate their actions. At the end of April, the hunger strikers and the representatives of the group of mayors met with the president and submitted a petition calling for the establishment of an independent committee that would recommend alternative reform; it was signed by more than half a million citizens. Many experts, journalists, and MKs expressed opposition to direct election at the time. Some tried, in the spirit of the era, to suggest alternative reform proposals. However, organized activity against the direct election initiative was scarce. The only significant opposition came from the president of the IDI, Arye Carmon, and from the group of experts that he organized. In accordance with the atmosphere of “change,” this rejection included a call

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

187

for adopting the alternative “PM government” reform.6 But, as time passed, it became apparent that the various pro-reform groups recognized that direct election was the only game in town, and their pressure became more explicitly focused on its promotion (Bechor, 1996). The behavior of the Knesset and the Government indicated that they were concerned about their decreasing status in general and feared the possibility that the hunger strikers’ demand, to expropriate reform legislation, would be realized. The Government adopted neutral stands toward the reform bills that were discussed at the time. The Knesset did not want to act in ways that would justify the rationale for the demand to expropriate reform legislation from it, and thus demonstrated a reformist spirit. The pressure for “change” on MKs was heavy. Many MKs submitted reform bills and other measures that suggested various corrections to the system. Many felt pressured to support reform initiatives or at least be absent from voting. MKs also addressed the movement and the protesters in their speeches at the plenum. Some MKs even suggested formulas for combining the work of an independent commission on reform with the work of the Knesset.7 In their attempt to channel the demands for “change,” supporters of direct election in the Knesset encouraged the abandonment (at least temporarily) of electoral reform and other reforms. MK Netanyahu (1990b; Ha’olam Haze, March 28, 1990), for example, claimed that a reform of the government system should be adopted first because it would pave the way for other reforms. Moreover, he argued that the adoption of a constitution or an electoral reform without adopting direct election would change nothing and could even make things worse. Rubinstein (1990f,g,h)—who since 1988 claimed that direct election was the real cure to the ills of the system—argued that only a Government established under direct election would be able to promote electoral reform and the adoption of a constitution because it would be less prone to minority veto.8 Parallel to the efforts to channel extraparliamentary pressures, CLJC chairman Lynn, with the consent of his fellow initiators of direct election bills, worked to direct the reformist agenda within the Knesset toward direct election. While reformers failed to promote legislation in a special meeting during the Knesset recess, deliberations over the bills began fairly quickly, a week and a half after the opening of the regular Knesset session.9 The first reading drew much more attention than the preliminary reading. Most MKs participated in voting: between ninety-one and ninety-five took part in each vote, versus fifteen to nineteen who participated in the vote for the preliminary reading. Although protesters still held various visions of reform, and some refrained from supporting any specific version, the initiators of the direct election bills successfully exploited the general demand for “change” to promote their specific cause. MK Libai, the first speaker, opened his speech saying, “Honorable chairman, MKs, something has happened in Israel—half a

188

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

million citizens addressed the honorable President and asked: Please, do something to change the system” (Twelfth Knesset Records, May 15, 1990). In addition to the four initiators of the bills, thirty-one MKs participated in the deliberations that preceded the vote in the first reading. Many presented the equal balance of power between the left and right blocks as the source of the problem. Many were also aware of their bad reputation in the wake of the Stinky Trick, especially in light of the defections of MKs from their parties. Some referred to the pressure groups, criticizing them for their generalizations about “corrupt” MKs, their behavior (repeated phone calls around the clock), and their aggressive demands for MKs to reveal their voting intentions in advance. Several speakers mentioned public opinion in support of reform and the decrease in public confidence in the Knesset. Some MKs condemned the critical assessment of the bills given by various experts. Thus, while criticizing the pressure groups, MKs responded to their demands (which were backed up by public opinion polls). They felt that they should demonstrate the ability to promote reform in the face of the demand to expropriate it from them. Indeed, many MKs who voted for the bills declared that their future support would be conditional on the adoption of other reforms, such as electoral reform and a constitution; some argued that these other reforms were actually more important. A few MKs expressed grave concerns about the proposed reform and called for cautious scrutiny rather than the haste that characterized its promotion until then. Others claimed that flawed norms rather than the system were to blame. Despite all these reservations and criticisms, a clear majority supported the reform bills. Later, some of these reservations vanished and were replaced by unconditional support; other MKs were still critical, but followed their party dictates; others changed their behavior in response to different pressures that had developed over time. Support in the first reading came from a coalition for “change,” which was based on the perception that the needed reform should originate in the Knesset and be passed by it. There was no agreement on the content of reform. MK Libai described it as follows. Members of the Knesset, it seems to me that we are not going to deliberate and decide here in the first reading on the details of the change. What is being presented for the decision of the MKs is if there is need for change, is it proper for a change to come, and especially—whether change will come from this house, whether this house is aware of the crisis and the problematic nature of the situation, and if this house will give the CLJC the role of sitting and finding the right solution. This is the crucial question at this time in this discussion. He who rejects the bill today invites those who are fed up with the situation to try and solve the problem in extra-parliamentary ways. He who wants to study the issue well will refer the issue to the CLJC. (Twelfth Knesset Records, May 15, 1990)

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

189

Free from party discipline, many MKs saw the vote as an opportunity to demonstrate responsiveness to “the people” and purify themselves from the deep and widespread criticism they earned in the Stinky Trick period. According to Bechor (1996, p. 159), MKs’ voting for the constitutional change was a clear attempt of most of them to calm public protest and reconsolidate the Knesset’s status as imposing the required reforms. It is doubtful whether the MKs who ratified the proposals looked deeply into them. They were ready to ratify any reasonable legislation, as long as public rage against them would calm down.

In light of this pressure, it was reasonable for undecided MKs, those with different visions of reform, and even for opponents of direct election, to support the bills. They could reasonably expect that the bills would, like their predecessors, fade away, buried in the CLJC. The supporters of the four versions of direct election mutually supported each other and also won the support of MKs who rejected direct election and supported the alternative “PM government” reform in return for their promise to support it in the first reading. In the first reading, on May 28, 1990, fifty-one to sixty MKs supported the reform bills, while twenty-eight to forty-one rejected them. The most radical bill, which called for adopting a presidential regime, won the least support (fifty-one votes) and the highest rejection (forty-one votes), while the other three proposals for hybrid regimes won similar support. Most Likud and Labor MKs as well as all the MKS of Tzomet, Shinui, and the NRP supported Libai’s bill (Table 7.1). Opponents came from the parties on the right of Likud (except Tzomet), the left of Labor (except Shinui), and the ultraorthodox parties. These voting patterns can be seen as a response of the core of the political system to public pressure for change (not necessarily for direct election), and as a defensive and automatic response of the extremes, influenced more by a fear of the core’s massive support and less by public pressure. Without a clear vision of the political consequences of the bill, voting was roughly divided as though it was on electoral reform: large and more centrist parties tended to support it while small and relatively extreme parties rejected it. As in the case of electoral reform, the core carried the burden of failure of the political system and therefore supported reform, while the extremes, less identified with the system, rejected it. Before the first reading, the CLJC discussed electoral and government system reform in general. Under the influence of the Stinky Trick events, public protest, and the threat of the initiative to expropriate reform legislation from the Knesset, MKs presented various visions of reform. No specific reform won any preferred status at that meeting. A second “general” session, a “seminar” on electoral and government system reform, took place at a time when both electoral and government system reforms were at the same stage in the legislation process (both had passed the first reading). The CLJC

190

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

TABLE 7.1 MKs’ Voting Patterns in the First Reading (Libai’s Bill) According to Party Affiliation*

Party

For

Against

Abstain

Absent

Total

Labor Likud NRP Shinui Tzomet FPZI Ratz Shas Mapam HaTehiya Hadash Agudat Yisrael Degel Hatorah Moledet ADP PLP Black Panthers (Charlie Bitton) Geulat Yisrael (Eliezer Mizrachi) Pituah Ve’aliya (Efraim Gur) Moria (Yitzhak Peretz) Total

29 21 5 2 2 1

4 2

1

5 12

38 36 5 2 2 4 5 5 3 3 3 4 2 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 120

3 4 4 3 3 2 4 2 2

1 1

1

1 1 1 1 1 60

33

2

1 25

* Based on the CFI ad, Jerusalem Post, June 5, 1990.

chairman Lynn declared that the purpose of the gathering was to decide between electoral and government system reform. However, it was already clear that direct election had become the focal point for the reformers. Lynn (1990) clearly stated his preference for government system reform, and the experts he invited to the meeting focused their testimonies on it. Although the alternative reform of PM government was presented side by side with direct election, it was more as a payment to its backers in exchange for their support of the direct election bills in the first reading than a sign of serious consideration of that alternative. To summarize, the public supported “change,” but not necessarily any specific version of it. Even the two pressure groups that led the protest did not focus on direct election. The CFI still demanded the adoption of its threereform package (electoral reform, government system reform, a bill of rights), while the MGRI focused on the procedures for reform rather than on any spe-

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

191

cific content. Although they were not focused on the direct election “solution,” extraparliamentary pressures facilitated the passage of the reform bills in the first reading. Among the MKs, there was also disagreement over the required reform; they shared a common understanding that they must show a positive attitude toward reform in the face of these pressures for “change.” Lynn, the CLJC chairman, with the help of his colleagues, channeled these energies toward the promotion of direct election. Reformers successfully exploited the three months of coalition crisis to take the bills out of the deep freeze and pass them over three legislative hurdles: initial reading, CLJC deliberations, and first reading. In three months, the direct election bills reached the same point that the electoral reform bill reached after about four years. Understanding that direct election is the only proposal with a chance of being promoted effectively, pressure groups demonstrated flexibility and accepted this reality. The CFI no longer demanded that other reforms be adopted before or together with direct election in order to ensure that the directly elected PM would be checked. The MGRI came to terms with the fact that no independent committee would be established to determine reform content, and thus focused its efforts on the promotion of direct election. The Struggle for Survival (May 1990–December 1991) It was already clear at the beginning of this stage that direct election had captured the center stage of the reformist agenda. Now, after successfully passing the first stages of legislation, reformers had to ensure that their initiative would not suffer the fate of its predecessors—burial in the CLJC. They could not hide anymore under the general concept of “change,” but had to recruit majority support for a concrete version of reform. This version had to be first and foremost supported by the members of the hard core of reformers, who at the time still backed different versions of government system reform. In addition, they had to attract the support of others, softer supporters and undecideds, to keep reform on the public and Knesset agendas. When presenting his new Government to the Knesset (which marked the end of the coalition crisis), on June 11, 1990, PM Shamir did not express much enthusiasm for reform. Although he did not explicitly reject it, he warned against the reckless adoption of improper reform. This reflected his complex position in a potentially contradictory web of obligations to different parties— to promote reform, on the one hand, and to support it only with unanimous consent, on the other. The program of the new Government preserved the obligation of the 1988 Government to “examine” the possibility of electoral and government system reform. In the coalition agreements, it was evident that parties had already formulated their stands on the question of direct election. An additional indication of the boost in the status of direct election was that it was addressed in the text alongside the veteran issue of electoral reform.

192

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

Parliamentary activity was concentrated at this stage in the CLJC. Direct election soon became the exclusive reform proposal. The deliberations that began in a meeting convened under the general title “Electoral and Government System Reform” continued under the title of the names of the government system reform bills that passed the preliminary and first readings. Together with a discussion that focused on the alternative proposal for PM government, the two sessions conducted in June and July 1990 were the last that were dedicated to a general discussion of the regime structure. The proposal for a PM government was raised as an alternative to direct election only to pay the debt to its supporters for their membership in the coalition for “change.” From then on, the CLJC dealt with the PM government bill only in response to pressures connected to this debt; discussion was focused on the articles of the direct election bill and its proposed amendments. The four MKs that initiated the four reform bills focused on reaching consensus on a single reform bill. They did it outside the Knesset, in a series of deliberations in which three experts (one of them the chairman of the CFI) took part. In September 1990, they introduced their joint proposal. In an attempt to imitate the successful exposure of the draft constitution of 1987, reformers presented the draft bill in a press conference and distributed it among the public in a booklet that included explanations and comparisons with other reform options (Har Zahav, 1990). In the Knesset, MKs added their signatures to the bill, and by the beginning of December 1990 it was signed by thirty MKs: from Labor (nineteen), Likud (seven), Shinui (two), Tzomet (one), and the NRP (one). In November 1990, the CLJC had begun deliberations on the joint bill. Chairman Lynn declared that he intended to conduct two rounds of focused deliberations. The first round was dedicated to discussing the formulation of each of the articles of the bill, with no obligatory voting and decisions. It was composed of sixteen sessions (most exclusively dedicated to deliberation of the reform bill), one per week, and ended in March 1991. Principled or general debate on the systemic consequences of reform was rare because most of the time the reformers dominated the deliberations and their focus was on the specific formulation of the articles and selected issues that were mapped by the CLJC. The last sounds of the Stinky Trick protest were heard when Shamir presented his Government to the Knesset in June 1990: some protesters waved a sign in the plenum and were arrested; others drew attention by bringing donkeys to their demonstration near the Knesset on that day. After the reform bills passed the first reading and the Government was established, the more populist and radical public protest faded and the CFI recaptured center stage. It conducted a public campaign in support of reform and lobbied within the Knesset and the parties. In September, the MGRI joined the focused effort to promote direct election of the PM. Because the masses no longer

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

193

responded to the calls to attend demonstrations and gatherings, sustaining “popular” pressure required activities based on a hard core of several hundred activists (Hermann, 1995). To exploit events (such as budget legislation, publication of state comptroller reports, religious legislation, demands for special funds for religious institutions) and create newsworthy media events and innovative gimmicks, the different groups had to conduct activities that were well organized, planned, and coordinated. The CFI and the MGRI renewed their public campaign with the publication of the joint reform bill in September 1990. MKs were pressed to publicly expose their intended future voting on the bill. Protesters used the surrendered of the Likud to Agudat Yisrael’s demands for religious legislation—its condition for rejoining the coalition toward the end of 1990—to campaign for reform. Only a few dozen activists took part in these protest activities, which was interpreted by the media as an indication that public interest in reform had faded. The development of the Gulf Crisis further lowered the position of reform on the agenda. However, during the time that the proposal was continuously deliberated in the CLJC, in the safe hands of its initiators and hardcore supporters, public activity on a much lower scale than before was sufficient. It was enough to demonstrate that an interest in reform still existed outside the Knesset. At the end of 1990, reformers focused their pressure on the members of Labor’s central committee, who were to decide the party’s stand on the issue of reform on December 23. Direct election competed with the proposal of PM government for the support of the members of Labor’s central committee. The struggle was balanced at the beginning. A tie in the vote of the special committee that the party bureau nominated to examine reform led to the introduction of the two reform proposals, one opposing the other. But soon, outside the small restricted forum, it became an uneven struggle. The CFI, the MGRI, and other groups pressured the members of the central committee, directly by phone and indirectly through newspaper ads, to support direct election. The supporters of PM government were mainly helped by the IDI and by experts it had recruited, and possessed far fewer resources and almost no activists. Their chances of success further decreased when Labor’s close allies from the Zionist left—including some who opposed direct election at the time—threatened Labor that supporting the PM government reform would cause a crisis in their relationship because the proposal was expected to decrease the representation of small parties in the Knesset. In addition, the NRP threatened to reject any government system reform if Labor supported the PM government proposal. The support of both Peres and Rabin, the two prominent leaders of Labor, for direct election, determined its victory. Attempts to delay voting, or to turn it into a secret vote to decrease the pressure on the members, failed. Direct election won 278 votes, versus 150 in support of PM government.10

194

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

From then on, Labor was fully committed to reform. By championing direct election, Labor joined the protest wave, attempting to restore its image, which had suffered a hard blow after the failed maneuvers to replace the unity Government with a Labor-religious coalition. Labor attacked Likud for not deciding its stand on reform for an additional year. Indeed, a year later, when the reform bill finally returned to the plenum, the struggle over reform became largely (although not exclusively) a power struggle between the center-left opposition and the right-religious governing coalition. At the end of March 1991, after the CLJC finished its first round of deliberations, the pressure groups began a campaign aimed at recruiting the support of Likud for reform. The catalyst for the campaign, according to the MGRI chairman, was the allocation of “special funds” to (mainly) religious institutions, signifying surrender to the demands of the ultraorthodox parties. Likud, who had made potentially contradictory promises to different parties, was interested in keeping the bill in the CLJC and did not hurry to respond to these pressures. In May, Labor—after solving the internal debate over the (procedural) validity of its decision to support direct election—began to campaign for the adoption of reform and blamed Likud for blocking its promotion. Given the Likud’s plethora of potentially conflicting obligations, this was surely a wellfounded claim. It served Labor interests well in rebuilding its popularity amongst the pro-reform public. Furthermore, if Likud had demonstrated support for the bill, the stability of its coalition would have been threatened. The second round of the CLJC deliberations began in May 1991. In this round, each article was to be separately ratified. Lynn refused to surrender to extra and intraparliamentary pressures to speed up the process, and continued at the pace of one deliberation per week. Labor, Shinui and Ratz used a query under the title “Public Demand for Government System Reform in Israel” to press for speeding up the legislation (Twelfth Knesset Records, June 11, 1991). One Labor MK called in a speech to complete legislation soon and expressed concerns about the intentions of Likud to block it; the CLJC chairman, answering these allegations, argued that more time was needed. Both Labor’s urging to speed up legislation and Likud’s call for further deliberations were rejected by a margin of a single vote. This indicated (in addition to the unwillingness of Likud to directly confront the issue) that the power of the proponents and opponents of reform was balanced. In retrospect, this can be seen as a “rehearsal” for the close second reading, which took place six months later. The MGRI targeted June 19 as the deadline for the second and third readings of the reform bill. Most of the pressure was focused on Likud, and individual MKs were called on to maintain their support for the bill. Activists of the pressure groups stood near the private residences of the CLJC members, pressing them to speed up legislation. At the beginning of every week,

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

195

the MGRI held a protest near the Knesset. On the target day, June 19, the MGRI organized a demonstration near the Knesset. Only about 1,000 people attended the demonstration, which signified the decline in the interest of the public in reform. Another significant change was that the formerly radical, “antipolitical” MGRI allowed politicians who supported reform to take part in the protest. This was indeed a wise move because having MKs function as the champions of reform decreased the need for recruiting massive external pressure. Some reform supporters and commentators claimed that Lynn deliberately delayed legislation in response to pressures from his party (Neuman, 1991; Wallach, 1991). But the four initiators of the reform bills and the CFI chairman found nothing wrong with Lynn’s functioning and criticized the MGRI for targeting a specific day. Some thought that the pressures of the MGRI even hurt the cause of reform because they awakened the quiet opponents of reform (Lavi, 1991). MK Libai argued, “If there was a chance before ‘to steal the law in the committee’ . . . now it is about a strong struggle, in the Likud Knesset faction and in the plenum, and for the political future of Likud committee members, especially Lynn” (Landau, 1991). Indeed, a demand was raised within Likud to oppose reform, and was pushed aside only after Lynn clarified that this was not a pressing issue because the CLJC would need more time to prepare the bill. In July, the pressure to complete reform legislation increased. The CFI chairman threatened to establish a pro-reform party that would participate in the elections. The MGRI activists opened a new hunger strike that ended on July 24, when the CLJC announced that it had completed its work on the reform bill. Labor also campaigned, championing reform and blaming Likud for delays. Likud did not hurry, but rather organized an additional meeting of its Knesset party group, one of a series of meetings in which no decision was made. Lynn, the CLJC chairman, was torn between his zealous support for reform and his party’s pressures to delay legislation. Facing these contradicting demands, Lynn continued the move at the same pace. While he was criticized for the delays, he ensured that the bill would remain alive and invested a fair share of the CLJC’s time in its formulation.11 In mid-July, the CLJC began a series of three gatherings, in which votes were held to decide whether proposals for revisions were adopted or became amendments in the upcoming second reading. One opponent of reform (a Likud MK) attempted to block the bill on procedural grounds, claiming that “new issues”—substantive changes and additions not included in the versions that passed the first reading—were entrenched in the bill. Both the legal advisor of the Knesset and the House Committee rejected the claim. Landau, the champion of PM government, demanded that his bill, which had passed only a preliminary reading, would be added as an alternative to the reform bill for the second reading. He admitted that he refrained

196

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

from presenting the bill for a first reading out of the fear that pressure from the small parties would lead to its rejection. His demand was based on the “deal” that was made prior to the first reading, according to which the champions of both reforms supported each other. The demand created a conflict in the CLJC, and some MKs threatened to block it on procedural grounds. Finally, Landau added his reform in the form of two amendments. Procedural complications did not end in July. At the last moment, Lynn found out that he must get House Committee approval to merge the four reform bills that passed the first reading into a single bill. Once again, the bill fell into the hands of its archenemy, the House Committee chairman Corfo. But he failed to block it, or even to delay decisions, because a solid majority in the committee supported the merger. Due to these delays and the Knesset recess, the bill was transferred for a second reading only on October 21.12 Speaker Shilansky refrained from opening the second reading deliberations and, after one month, the champions of reform inside and outside the Knesset began to submit petitions to the Supreme Court, asking it to force him to present the bill for a second reading. The court compelled the speaker to give an explanation for his behavior within thirty days (HCJ 5251/91).13 On December 17, the petitions were withdrawn after the speaker promised to present the bill within two weeks. Shilansky fulfilled his stated goal to delay the Knesset deliberations until after the meeting of the Likud’s central committee (scheduled for December 22), which was to decide on the issue. In October 1991, when the bill was transferred for a second and third reading, the pressure groups opened a campaign—which included the publication of newspaper ads that presented collections of supporters’ signatures and the text of the reform bill—whose main aim was to influence the position of Likud. After the Likud’s Knesset party group decided to let the party’s central committee decide the issue, the campaign focused on its members. It emphasized to the members of the Likud’s central committee that the electoral price that Likud would pay if it were to decide to reject a reform supported by a majority of voters in general and Likud voters in particular.14 Corfo confronted these pressures, alleging that the protest groups were leftists and that they deliberately hid the origins of their financing.15 The movements, to which the purist, apolitical image was the most precious asset, reacted harshly, publishing ads and columns that personally targeted Corfo.16 The few vocal Likud MKs and mayors who supported reform enjoyed the popular support of the pressure groups. Opponents of the bill, PM Shamir and his loyalists, who composed the largest faction within Likud (“Shamir’s camp”), won only the support of experts (especially political scientists) who offered academic legitimacy for rejection.17 The heads of the two other factions within Likud, David Levy and Ariel Sharon, expressed support for reform, but did not invest much effort in its promotion. Unlike the struggle

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

197

in Labor a year earlier, reformers lacked firm support from senior figures within Likud. They were defeated in the intraparty battle, when 74 percent of the members of the central committee voted against reform.18 Adopting Reform (January–March 1992): A Majority for a Specific Reform Alternative The struggle at this stage was over the final result. When the bill was presented for its second reading at the beginning of 1992, both major parties determined their stands: Labor supported reform while Likud rejected it. The support of Shinui and Tzomet was stable and known in advance.19 Many coalition parties tended to oppose the bill; it was known that the right-wing Tehiya and Moledet parties, and the ultraorthodox Agudat Yisrael, Degel Hatorah, and Moria parties would reject the bill. In contrast, the left-wing parties seemed to become more and more supportive. The fate of the bill was unknown in advance and both sides invested much effort to draw the seemingly pivotal forces to their side. Although the FPZI declared its support, it was reasonable to predict—in light of its previous behavior—that if Likud would agree to its demand for safe positions in the next Likud Knesset list, it would reject the bill. NRP MKs, until then supporters of reform, faced harsh pressures from the settlers’ lobby and Likud, who both claimed that reform would empower the left, and it was apparent that these pressures began to work.20 Shas refrained from determining its stand until the last moment, using it as leverage against Likud in the budget deliberations that preceded the debate on the reform bill. Dozens of amendments were submitted together with the reform bill. Some were symbolic, such as amendments to the bill’s name, but many were substantial. Opponents had numerous opportunities to defeat the bill by destroying crucial elements in the complex formulas of power structure and election laws. Likud failed in its last-minute effort to crystallize majority support for the withdrawal of the reform bill prior to the opening of deliberations (Allon, 1992a). The opposition, for its part, convinced most of its MKs to withdraw their amendments in order to shorten the deliberations and reduce the opportunities to neutralize the bill. Prior to the discussion, both sides stipulated that the bill would be withdrawn if a substantial amendment were passed. An ad hoc committee of four MKs, which included representatives from both sides of the debate, identified thirty-four out of more than one hundred amendments as substantial. The deliberations of the reform bill that began on January 2 continued for many hours and included presentations of dozens of amendments, most by reform opponents. Twenty-six MKs—the initiators of the bill and those who proposed amendments—took part in the discussion. Eleven expressed support

198

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

for reform and voted for it; four others expressed rejection and voted against it. The behavior of the remaining eleven was not parallel to their expressed stands and sometimes contradicted it. For example, Lynn expressed full support for the bill he himself devised and promoted, but voted against it under pressure from his party. Some Labor MKs expressed rejection, yet voted for the bill, thus maintaining party cohesion and discipline. Hadash MKs expressed rejection, but preferred to abstain or be absent.21 MK Landau made a final attempt to convince the Knesset to preserve parliamentarism and adopt a less radical change. He expressed readiness to give up contested parts of his PM government proposal and suggested adopting the mechanism of a constructive vote of no confidence instead of direct election. Landau failed. His amendment that suggested erasing all the bill articles, which preceded his proposal for an alternative reform, was rejected by seventy MKs. The fact that a later vote on Article 3 was decided by a margin of a single vote indicates that many reform opponents were not ready to associate themselves with Landau due to his former attempts to promote the PM government proposal, in a formula that was seen as a threat to the small parties. The bill was amended in the second reading, yet its core, direct election of the PM, survived. The struggle concentrated around Article 3, which stipulated the direct election of the PM. The perception that direct election would reward Labor and the left became dominant (Yatziv, 1992). This perception was not new, and was already suggested when Likud was the champion of reform (before the preliminary reading), yet it was widely adopted only as this reading approached.22 Thus, voting on Article 3, the core of the bill, roughly reflected affiliations with the right-religious government coalition and the Labor-left opposition. Most opposition MKs voted for reform, two were absent, and one abstained, and only two opposed. Most coalition members voted against the bill, but seven of them who supported it, and two who were absent, enabled its passage. Article 3 was ratified by fifty-seven votes against fifty-six (Table 7.2), the closer vote during the legislation process. Among the five who were absent, two were paired (Labor MK and Likud MK), and three stayed away deliberately. They all helped the bill to pass, in contrast to their own stands or their party’s stand or behavior. These three included a Hadash MK who expressed opposition to the bill (her two colleagues abstained) and two Shas MKs, whose colleagues voted against the bill. Right-Religious Coalition. Opinion polls indicating that Rabin (who at the time competed for the Labor chairmanship) had an advantage over Shamir, and any of Likud’s other possible candidates, supplied the main motivation for Likud and its allies to reject the bill. Furthermore, many on the right feared the prospective influence of the Arab vote in the PM election. Likud MKs were under strong pressure to abide by the decision of the central committee to reject the bill because this party agency was to decide

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

199

TABLE 7.2 MKs’ Voting Patterns in the Second Reading (Article 3) According to Party Affiliation*

Party

For

Labor Likud NRP Shinui Tzomet FPZI Ratz Shas Mapam HaTehiya Hadash Agudat Yisrael Degel Hatorah Moledet ADP PLP Black Panthers (Charlie Bitton) Geulat Yisrael (Eliezer Mizrachi) Pituah Ve’aliya (Efraim Gur) Moria (Yitzhak Peretz) Total

37 2 2 2 2 3 4

Against

Abstain

34 3

1 3

Absent

Total

1 1

38 37 5 2 2 3 5 5 3 3 3 4 2 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 120

2

3 3 2

1

2

5

4 2 2 1 1

57

1 1 1 1 56

* Twelfth Knesset Records, January 7, 1992.

the composition of the candidate list for the forthcoming elections. While there was no formal decision on party discipline, PM Shamir clarified that he saw the blocking of the bill as a central test for Likud as the upcoming elections approached. Yet two Likud MKs maintained their support for the bill: Yigael Horowitz, the sole representative of the reformist Rafi-Ometz faction who was close to the end of his career, and Netanyahu, a young, ambitious, and restless politician who believed that direct election would serve his career because of his personal popularity and media skills. The FPZI tried to press Likud into allocating its three MKs safe positions on its candidate list for the next elections in return for rejecting reform. When Likud refused to do so, the FPZI used its support to extricate itself from the image of defectors, opportunists, and blackmailers it earned during the Stinky Trick, and to distinguish itself from Likud by demonstrating a reformist spirit.

200

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

Although all five NRP MKs supported reform in the first reading, disagreements within the party led to a divided vote in the second reading: two MKs voted for reform and three rejected it. The NRP MKs who rejected the bill feared Rabin’s possible electoral victory and the empowerment of the Arab vote (which led the right-wing Tehiya and Moledet parties to reject the bill). The two supporters believed that the party would benefit from vote splitting; they considered their support a responsible stand. They sought to distinguish themselves from the ultraorthodox, whose spiritual leadership, with their conservative tendencies, dictated that Shas, Aguda, and Moria MKs should oppose the reform. Since the ultraorthodox were a main target of the reformers, who repeatedly claimed that reform would reduce their power, it was natural for them to take this position, even though several of them estimated that they would be empowered by reform. However, two Shas MKs were absent and enabled the bill’s passage, which was explained by an unrelated issue concerning their rage at Likud for not halting police investigations into their financial and administrative misconduct. Center-Left Opposition. The Labor MKs faced party primaries, where tens of thousands of registered party members—who tended to support the popular reform—were to decide their political fate. This helped to ensure that all the Labor MKs would abide by the party’s decision to support reform. The shortterm interest of the leftist camp in reform stemmed from the anticipated victory of Rabin in the personal election. In the longer run, this camp (including the Arab parties) was interested in making the Arab votes effective through direct election of the PM. Some parties and MKs on the left did not accept this version and maintained their opposition to reform. In some cases, the strong pressure of reformers affected the behavior of those opponents: Hadash, which principally opposed reform, agreed not to vote against it when it became apparent that its vote might be decisive; Mapam’s Chairman Tsaban changed his vote to allow reform to pass. Two opposition MKs maintained their zealous resistance to reform, voted against it, and did their best to defeat it. After most of the articles of the bill were ratified, and most amendments were rejected, the speaker decided to end the session. This left many open questions that were answered only a week later, with the formal renewal of the session. First, Knesset Speaker Shilansky stated that in the voting on Article 3 there was a tie (fifty-seven–fifty-seven), which meant that the article was rejected. It was apparent that there was a mistake in the counting of the votes, but the speaker did not hurry to correct it. While he admitted the mistake after less than two days, it took him a week to formally announce in the Knesset that Article 3 had passed the vote. This bought time for reform opponents who organized the withdrawal of the bill. Second, Articles 4 through 7—which determined the timing of the PM election, the right to vote, and the length of the PM’s term—were rejected.

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

201

Reformers claimed that this rejection occurred because they were busy protesting the mistaken vote count of Article 3, but the Knesset speaker refused to overturn his decision that these articles were rejected. This justified the claim that the bill should be returned to the CLJC. Third, the intended balance of power between the Knesset and the PM substantially changed due to two significant amendments that were adopted (one of them by a fifty-six–fifty-five vote). Instead of requiring a supermajority of seventy MKs to oust the PM and lead to elections for both branches, the amended bill stipulated that an absolute majority would suffice, and more important, would be able to oust the PM without leading to new elections of the Knesset. These amendments supplied a further justification for the withdrawal of the bill and its return to the CLJC. Deliberations of the second reading were renewed immediately after the speaker clarified that Article 3 had passed. Majority support for the withdrawal of the bill was crystallized during the week that preceded the renewal of deliberations.23 This was clearly an attempt to block reform because most of the supporters of this move were reform opponents who hoped that the bill would be buried until after the next elections. However, a majority was crystallized only after reform proponents from the coalition were promised that the bill would return to the plenum in several weeks, after deliberations in the CLJC. At the time, many perceived the move as the final burial of the bill (Hadashot, Ma’ariv, Davar editorials, January 14, 1992; Tzadok, 1992) and only a few still believed it would return, amended, to the plenum (Allon, 1992b). In the first deliberations of the CLJC on the returned reform bill, chairman Lynn declared that he intended to fulfill the commitment and return the bill to the plenum according to the agreed-on timetable. He clarified that the discussion was over the version that would be resubmitted for the second reading, and that the results of the second reading had no bearing. Lynn also began to check whether the ground was ready for the promotion of a divided bill that would return to the plenum some parts of reform without the core, direct election of the PM. Representatives of Labor, Ratz, Shinui, and Tzomet clarified they would not tolerate this idea. At the same time, reformers demonstrated their readiness to adopt some of the amendments that had passed in the plenum to enable the consolidation of majority support. The Likud MKs stuck to their rejection, though, this time with the claim that the adopted amendments damaged the bill’s substance so legislation must be halted. The NRP representative, who held a pivotal position on this matter, reported that his party would demand certain amendments. Various ideas concerning the continuation of reform legislation were raised in the next four meetings of the CLJC. Lynn, pressured by his party, suggested dividing the bill, passing some of its articles (empowering the PM) while leaving direct election to the next Knesset. But reform proponents

202

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

rejected this idea. Reformers succeeded in devising a version of the bill that won majority support in the CLJC. This formula included the adoption of two amendments perceived to increase the powers of the Knesset vis-à-vis the PM: a new Government would have to win a vote of investiture, and absolute majority, rather than a supermajority (seventy MKs), would suffice to oust the PM and lead to elections for both branches. Most important, it was agreed to postpone the implementation of reform until after the next elections.24 This postponement quelled Likud’s fear of Rabin’s victory in the forthcoming elections and opened the way for coalition members to support the bill or to abstain, whether out of belief in its properties, electoral calculations, or even the hope that they would succeed in repealing it in the next Knesset. Although Labor gave up the anticipated immediate reward of reform (Rabin’s victory), it still firmly supported it. Labor believed that it would gain from its success in passing a bill that it championed, was identified with, and that was so popular in the public; starting with the next elections, it presumed, the party would also enjoy the Arab vote.25 Two additional meetings of the CLJC, conducted at the beginning of March, discussed a proposal, submitted by two reform opponents, that the law would be implemented in the forthcoming elections. They attempted to divide the support between those whose support was conditional on postponement (NRP) and those interested in earlier implementation (Labor and most of the left). But the Labor-left rejected the bait, and the rejected proposal was to be raised as the single amendment in the second attempt of the second reading. After early elections were scheduled, it became clear, in light of the popular support for reform, that publicly rejecting reform would be an unwise electoral move.26 Under these circumstances, reform opponents focused their efforts on stopping the bill (after they fail to break it up and leave direct election for the decision of the next Knesset) from returning to the plenum. The most prominent attempt to block the bill occurred on the last day of sessions of the twelfth Knesset, on March 18, the same day the bill was scheduled to reach the plenum for its final second and third readings. Several CLJC members asked to discuss their proposal to keep the bill in the committee for further deliberations. This attempt was blocked by only a close vote, eleven to nine. Voting patterns were similar to those in the plenum ten weeks before. All the opposition representatives—including reform opponents—rejected this proposal, joined by one coalition MK, Lynn himself, and helped by the abstention of an additional MK from the coalition. Lynn also blocked an attempt to add a member to the CLJC in order to create a majority for reform opponents. Deliberations during the second and third readings on March 18 were brief. It was apparent that the fate of the bill had been decided in the CLJC that same morning. When the bill reached the plenum, only one MK

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

203

TABLE 7.3 MKs’ Voting Patterns in the Third Reading According to Party Affiliation*

Party

For

Labor Likud NRP Shinui Tzomet FPZI Ratz Shas Mapam HaTehiya Hadash Agudat Yisrael Degel Hatorah Moledet ADP PLP Black Panthers (Charlie Bitton) Geulat Yisrael (Eliezer Mizrachi) Pituah Ve’aliya (Efraim Gur) Moria (Yitzhak Peretz) Total

36 7 2 2 2 3

Against

Absent

Total

13 1

2 17 4

1 3

1 1 2

38 37 5 2 2 3 5 5 3 3 3 4 2 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 120

2

Abstain

1 2 3 3 2 2

1 1

1 1 1 1 1 55

1 32

1

32

* Twelfth Knesset Records, March 18, 1992.

(Corfo—Likud) dared to speak against it. In a quite desperate attempt, aimed at dividing the reform coalition and defeating the bill in the third reading, he suggested implementing reform already in the forthcoming elections. In the four votes that took place, reform enjoyed large majorities: fifty-two–fiftythree supported the bills’ articles as formulated in the CLJC, and only twenty-three–twenty-four rejected them. Corfo’s amendment was rejected by fifty-six MKs and supported by only sixteen. In the third reading, fifty-five voted for reform and thirty-two voted against it (Table 7.3). Most MKs who supported reform in January continued to support it in March.27 Five additional Likud MKs supported the bill this time. Many of those who voted against reform in January chose to be absent, among them seventeen Likud MKs.28 The results of the vote in the plenum (fiftyfive–thirty-two) vis-à-vis the balance of power in the CLJC the same morning (eleven–nine), confirmed the influence of the forthcoming elections (see

204

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

Diskin & Diskin, 1995). In the open arena of the plenum, the behavior of the MKs was significantly different from the relatively discrete committee. Likud, who tried to block reform in the CLJC that same morning, decided to give its MKs freedom of vote in the plenum. OVERCOMING THE BARRIERS

Unlike electoral reform, government system reform overcame all barriers. This section analyzes the ways reformers succeeded in overcoming these barriers and assesses the relative difficulty posed by each barrier. Procedural Superiority of the Institutional Status Quo Unlike the case of electoral reform (since 1958), plurality support was sufficient to replace the Basic Law: The Government (1968) with a new basic law.29 Indeed, the reform bills passed with the support of only a plurality. If an absolute majority had been needed, the task of reformers would have been much more difficult. Those “undecideds,” or those pressured to abstain instead of voting against the bill, would have to be convinced to actively vote in support. Most procedural maneuvers against the government system reform bills were fruitless, but some did pose additional challenges to reformers. The attempts to send the bill back to a first reading failed due to the rejection of a majority in the House Committee; those to divide the bill in the CLJC fell in the face of firm opposition. But the attempt of the speaker to delay legislation succeeded, and Likud MKs were pressured to reject reform following the decision of their party’s central committee. Yet the willingness of the Supreme Court to be involved in intraparliamentary politics meant that the speaker could not drag out the bill forever. Attempts to neutralize the bill, by suggesting a substitution or the immediate implementation of reform, also failed. The passage of the alternative PM government proposal was dependent on Labor and Likud joining their forces against all other parties. But this required a high degree of trust that was absent, especially after the collapse of the unity Government. The two parties did not trust each other enough to pass electoral reform even when they governed together. The attempt to divide the reformist camp along the question of the timing of the implementation of reform came too late, after Labor reconciled with the delay in its realization. Reformers were not only on the procedural defense, but also exploited the parliamentary arena for maneuvers of their own. Reformers passed the first two legislative hurdles (the preliminary reading and the preliminary CLJC deliberations) through a parliamentary snatch rather than a serious confrontation with opponents. Not only did the hard core of reformers suc-

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

205

cessfully overcome the attempts of their opponents to block reform through their (preferred) strategy of accumulated delays, but delays led to a situation in which the final decision on the bill was made at an optimal time. This occurred on the eve of the elections, a time when Likud did not dare to impose party discipline on its MKs to reject the bill and when Likud’s Knesset candidate list was already selected, which freed MKs from the pressures of the central committee.30 Political Tradition Parliamentary political tradition originated in the pre-independence period (Sager, 1985). Before 1988, it was estimated that this tradition, which was supposed to be suited to certain “Jewish mentalities,” could not be challenged (Nedava, 1983; Weiss, 1983). However, tradition was not a strong obstacle to reform. The mixed nature of the proposed system enabled reformers to maneuver and present elements of both radical change and preservation. At certain times (the Stinky Trick era) and facing certain audiences (especially enraged protesters), reform was presented as a radical change that was necessary to solve the deep crisis. In other (calmer) times, reformers emphasized sensitivity to political tradition, presenting reform as an improvement (rather than a radical change) of the existing order. Reformers repeatedly related to proportionality as a central element in the political culture of Israel, which could not, and should not, be upset. They even claimed that electoral reform was not the solution because it would either damage PR or preserve proportionality, and therefore would not solve the problem of coalition politics. On the other hand, government system reform was presented as preserving PR and solving the problems of coalition politics at the same time. Lynn (1992a), for example, argued that reform combined the best of both worlds, adding an element of presidential stability to the largely preserved, traditional parliamentary system. Political tradition was even used to justify reform. Reformers faced allegations that they proposed a system never before attempted, and was therefore a dangerous gamble on the future of Israel. In response, reformers took this accusation of “uniqueness” and turned it upside down to serve as proof of sensitivity to domestic culture and tradition. To the claim that “there is no similar system in the world,” they answered:31 Of course there is not. The proposed system is not for Iceland or Hungary. It is the system proposed for the state of Israel. A constitution must grow from the country in which one wants to impose it, and the proposed system grows out of the tradition and political culture that were formulated in Israel. On the one hand, the law preserves the advantages of our parliamentary system, and on the other hand it fixes its main faults. The French, American and English systems have no parallels in other countries. Each state and its system. (Yedioth Aharonoth, November 8, 1991, p. 21)

206

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

When political crisis (such as the Stinky Trick period) is presented and perceived as evidence of the faults of the existing order, tradition is pushed aside. In calmer times, political tradition should not be ignored. However, it can be manipulated quite easily, neutralized, or even recruited to promote reform. Because the reformers suggested a mixed system, which combined the old with the new, the rationales for presenting reform as both radical and moderate in changing circumstances and to different audiences were readily available. The Parliamentary System as a Rational Arrangement Parliamentary systems are common among established democracies. Among the twenty-one stable post–Second World War democracies studied by Lijphart (1984), seventeen were parliamentary—that is, the head of the executive branch was selected by the parliament and dependent on its confidence. The other cases were the American “classical” presidential regime; the semipresidential French Fifth Republic and Finnish regimes; and the Swiss regime, where the head(s) of the executive are selected by the parliament but cannot be ousted by it—a hybrid opposite in its main characteristics to those of Israel under direct election. From this perspective, not only does parliamentary regime seem to be a reasonable choice, but the reform that was promoted deviates from any successful model of regime structure in democracies. The origins of the pressure for reform and its general direction can nevertheless be understood following some sort of rational logic. That is, the targeted direction of reform, the entrenchment of a majoritarian element to balance PR, in the only way perceived possible, seems reasonable from a comparative perspective: Lijphart (1993) recommended changes in the majoritarian direction, although he rejected direct election. Medding’s (1990, 1999) claim, in his criticism of Lijphart’s analysis, that reform was a response to the development of consensual dynamics since 1967 also justifies the search for the majoritarian cure. It can also fit Shugart’s (2001) analysis, according to which the Israeli electoral system was extremely partisan and proportional to begin with, so reform seemed to supply both majoritarian and personal elements. Seeking a solution that was intended to empower the PM was also a rational move according to both reformers and their harsh opponents (Dror, 1989, 1996). The problem is with the features of the “solution,” rather its direction. Its critics (many of them champions of other reforms) claimed that it would not improve governability, stability, and effectiveness but would rather lead to further deterioration. Reformers, on their part, thought that the innovation especially suited the Israeli situation, and some even argued that the model should be considered in other countries because it allows for the best of both worlds (Susser, 1989). Direct election was seen as an optimal combination of the nec-

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

207

essary representativeness of the heterogeneous Israeli society (preserved through the Knesset’s PR electoral system) and improved governability (through the new of direct election of the PM). Lynn, for example, went so far as to present reformers as champions of PR, preservers of political tradition, and guardians of the inclusiveness that is needed to fit the structure of the regime to that of Israeli society (Twelfth Knesset Records, January 2, 1992). Assessing the rationality of the features of reform is a matter for postfactual analysis. For the sake of studying the politics of reform, it is a matter of assessing what the rationale was at the time. Reformers and their opponents disagreed not only over the anticipated political consequences of reform, but even over the diagnosis of the Israeli regime and regimes of other democracies. Each has had his or her own “rationality” on the systemic level. In the face of high uncertainty as to the consequences of the innovative formula, “systemic rationality” was a very subjective matter. Furthermore, reformers did not need a package of empirical data and valid conclusions to promote reform. Claims with a seemingly valid evidence and logical design were sufficient. After all, without second or further thoughts, it may seem “self evident,” or absolutely logical, for example, that if the people rather than the parties were to elect the PM, he would be less prone to the pressures of pivotal parties. Vested Interests The basic assumption is that the majority enjoys the regime structure as is, and has a vested interest in preserving it. Furthermore, the majority is expected to want to reduce risks (in rational choice terminology, to act according to a mini-max strategy), so even if reform is expected to improve the status of a majority, it will tend to refrain from supporting it: the expected reward is never as certain as the status quo; the transition to a new system will have its own additional costs. This barrier can be analyzed on several levels. On the systemic level, especially at the time of the Stinky Trick, reform was promoted in the name of restoring public trust, which had fallen to a level that threatened democracy. It seems that the more immediate threat to the Knesset, that reform legislation would be exploited from it, was more influential. Explanations for the voting patterns of the MKs in the first (May 1990) and second (January 1992) readings of the reform bills can be suggested on the basis of their partisan interests. In the first reading, the core tended to support reform while the extremes tended to reject it, which was roughly similar to past voting on electoral reform. This seems to confirm that, at that point, the anchor used to interpret the anticipated political consequences of direct election was similar to that of electoral reform (majoritarian reform in a PR system). In the second and closest reading (and to a lesser extent also

208

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

in the third reading, at least vis-à-vis most supporters) the commonly held concept was that reform would reward the left (which meant that most leftist MKs supported it) and hurt the right and religious parties (which meant that most rightist and religious MKs rejected it). However, in and of themselves, these central themes are insufficient to explain the crystallization of a supportive majority for reform. For example, NRP, who opposed electoral reform, supported government system reform in the first reading; only support from some members of the right-religious (majority) governing coalition enabled the reform bills to pass the January 1992 second reading. It is possible to go beyond these general patterns and interpret the rationale for the behavior of each party. The hard core of supporters included Tzomet and Shinui, who raised the reform banner from an early stage and initiated two of the four reform bills. This behavior enabled these tiny parties to distinguish themselves from the otherwise similar parties in their ideological camps. Furthermore, focusing on direct election rather than on electoral reform (which they also championed) enabled them to ensure their future independent existence. After the central committee’s decision, all Labor MKs, regardless of their personal stands, were obligated to support reform. Reform was seen as a tool to cleanse Labor from the Stinky Trick; to make non-Zionist Arab votes relevant for the center-left camp it headed; to return to govern, as opinion polls indicated, after repeated failures since 1977. These perceptions explain the support recruited from the parties on its left (Ratz, Mapam, Progressive List for Peace and Equality, Arab Democratic Party) leading up to the second reading, and even the willingness of Hadash to refrain from killing the bill even though it opposed it in principle. Two NRP MKs were also consistent supporters of the bill, refusing to go along with the idea adopted by many prior to the second reading that reform would reward the left. For the FPZI MKs, reform was mainly a tool to exploit personal benefits, yet they preferred to support it by default because it distinguished them and gave a popular image to a party that justifiably had an opportunistic image. Likud’s perception of its interests substantially changed in less than four years. In 1988–1989, Likud representatives usually expressed support for reform. Some believed that reform would give Likud a majority and free it from the fear of Labor recruiting the ultraorthodox parties to its side; others supported direct election in order to defeat the move for electoral reform. Later, many in Likud, among them its chairman Shamir, became convinced that reform would reward Labor (Allon, 1995, p. 252). This perception was similar to the one that led Labor and the left to support the bill. However, we should recall that Likud was not cohesive in its voting on reform. Furthermore, except for the January 1992 second reading, Likud MKs enjoyed freedom of vote. This reflected and facilitated the exposure of Likud MKs to powerful extraparliamentary, pro-reformist pressures. Even when all of the party’s weight was put on the side of rejection, two MKs rebelled. Their behavior can only be understood

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

209

on the personal level: one hoped to leave a signature of reform at the end of his (and his party’s) career; the other was determined to speed his climb to the top. The hard core of reform opponents was mainly composed of ultraorthodox and right-wing MKs. Although not all ultraorthodox MKs went along with the idea that reform would decrease their power, they all voted against it. They obeyed their spiritual leaders, whose basic worldview was conservative. In any case, reformers left no room for them in the reform coalition when they made them the targets of their campaign, defining them as the “problem” that would be “solved” through reform. Right-wing rejection stemmed from the fear that reform would put the vision of Greater Israel in jeopardy, because it would allow the left to return to power. These parties, as small and coherent ideological entities, could be less sensitive to the opinions of the majority of the public. Changes in the stands and behaviors of parties over time, differences within party camps and within parties, all show that uncertainty left much room for different and contradicting perceptions of the political consequences of reform. Any proposed reform of the electoral system was anticipated (not always justifiably) to enhance the power of the large parties because the starting point was the hyperproportional system. In contrast, the political consequences of government system reform were uncertain enough to enable reform coalitions to include MKs not only from parties of different sizes, but also from the right, the left, and the religious camps. In the face of this uncertainty, pressure groups created an atmosphere of certainty as to the short-term electoral price of opposing reform. In the first stage of legislation, support might have been a response to the popularity of “change,” combined with the anticipation that legislation would be blocked later on (Doron, 1990b). Afterward, recruitment of support for a specific and real reform became a harder task. But past behaviors, stands, and obligations could not be pushed aside easily, especially when external actors continued to monitor MKs’ behaviors. As the second and third readings approached in March 1992, the horizon of the political consequences of reform was distanced. This only increased the temptation to respond to the immediate demands of the protest groups, who presented themselves as speaking in name of the “public” (and were seen as representing it). MKs could expect any electoral reform to have an influence on the personal level, even those reform proposals that preserved a high level of proportionality, because they included regional and sometimes personal elements. Thus, for MKs as individuals, direct election seemed preferable over electoral reform because it was perceived to affect only the PM, not their own reelection (Doron & Kay, 1995). From this perspective, direct election seemed to allow MKs not only to enjoy the popular image of reformers without jeopardizing their personal self-interest, but also to push aside the more threatening reform proposals.

210

THE POLITICS OF GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFORM IN ISRAEL

A Majority for Change; Disagreement over Content The coalition for “change” of 1990 included those who rejected direct election and hoped it will be blocked later on, those who hoped that other versions of reform would pass, and many who conditioned their future support on the prior adoption of another reform. That is, thanks to the overall pressure for “change,” disagreements over content were deliberately pushed aside during the first stages of reform promotion. Afterward, the popularity of reform helped reformers overcome their disagreements. In Labor, the differences over content were resolved at the end of 1990, when the party decided to champion direct election rather than PM government. The perception was that support for an alternative version of reform was equivalent to rejecting reform because it has no chance of being adopted. MK Rabin claimed, “In practice, their proposal [of PM government] means no change because the one who spoke with the small parties—not with the voters—with members in the Knesset, with heads of parties, with Ratz, with Mapam, with Shinui, with the religious parties, with the right. They declared unequivocally: We will not go along with this proposal.”32 The only chance for change, he claimed, was direct election. Likud, on the other hand, preferred to delay its decision in order to refrain from explicitly opposing the popular reform and sustain its coalition. Likud did not dare to attempt to divide the reform coalition through suggesting PM government as an alternative reform because its smaller coalition partners threatened that such a move would push them to support the lesser evil from their perspective, direct election of the PM. The four initiators of the reform bills and their allies solved their disagreements over content amongst themselves, first through postponing decisions until after the first reading, and then by solving their differences by devising a single version of reform prior to the CLJC deliberations, outside the partisan environment of the Knesset. In the CLJC, the opinions of the other partners in the development of reform proposals were taken into account in the formulation of the bill that went on to a second reading. In January 1992, when the bill returned to the CLJC and seemed in real danger of burial, reformers surrendered to the demands set by the pivotal minority. These were seen as substantial compromises in terms of the anticipated balance of power between the PM and the Knesset. In addition, it should be remembered that the center-left gave up its short-term interest in reform when it agreed to postponing the implementation of reform. Coalition Politics A supportive Knesset majority was not sufficient to pass electoral reform in the face of the veto of small, crucial coalition partners. The timing of the legislative moves helped direct election to overcome this barrier. At the time of

THE STAGES OF THE REFORM PROCESS

211

the Stinky Trick, the coalition agreement eroded while radical protest made public opinion a real consideration. Parties had not yet adopted firm stands on direct election, so support for the bills was not weighed against former agreements. Later, after reform passed the first legislative stages, it became a new coalition currency for the large parties. The coalition agreements that were the basis for the establishment of the Government in June 1990 addressed this issue. On the one hand, they helped ensure the bill’s survival, but, on the other, they worked against its further promotion. The second and third readings took place in the approach to the forthcoming elections. Calculations of public opinion became more important than those of coalition politics. In the second reading of January 1992, the bill was blocked, mainly because of the fear that its implementation would empower Labor and the left in the forthcoming elections. In March 1992, however, electoral calculations grew stronger, while fear of the short-term political consequences of reform was pushed aside due to the postponement of its implementation. The bill had its final readings at this optimal timing, due to a combination of Likud’s success in postponing legislation and the reformers’ determination and, especially, willingness for substantial compromises. CONCLUSIONS: HOW THE REFO RMERS OVERCAME ALL BARRIERS

First, continued determination enabled reformers to overcome the procedural advantage of the status quo. They fought back each maneuver of the reform opponents and initiated their own maneuvers to exploit background factors. Second, the “mixed” characteristics of the system were used to surmount political tradition, counterclaims based on systemic rationalities, and vested interests. Preservation became part of the image that reformers marketed to worried audiences. Third, at the beginning, the need to recruit broad agreement for a single proposal was glossed over through the establishment of “coalition for change” and the decision to postpone government system reform. Afterward, uncertainty about the long-term consequences of reform was used constructively to market it to audiences with various interests and perceptions on different levels (system, partisan, individual). At the same time, pressure groups (exploiting opinion poll results) placed a high electoral price tag on opposing reform. Finally, through exploiting events that occurred at the time of voting (Stinky Trick) or were expected to follow them (general elections), reformers overcame the barrier of coalition politics, that is, the veto power of small parties.

This page intentionally left blank.

PART THREE

Reform of Regime Structures of Established Democracies in Historical and Cross-National Comparative Perspectives

This page intentionally left blank.

EIGHT

The Israeli Case Studies in a Historical-Comparative Perspective

THIS CHAPTER PROVIDES an integrative summary of the analyses of the Israeli case studies that were presented in the previous chapters and that of the first decade (1948–1959) analyzed in Rahat (2001a). It examines the influence of changes that occurred over the years on each component of the framework for analysis, as well as their effect on the various barriers to the promotion of reform. LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS

Changes in the balance of power among the parties, and especially the change in the party system in 1977, made the ground more fertile for the promotion of reform. Signs of change in the positions and behaviors of parties that had previously rejected reform were apparent during the 1970s—even before 1977, when the Alignment was still dominant but the gap between it and the second largest party alliance (Gahal/Likud) substantially decreased.1 The evolution of the dominant party system (1949–1977) into a bipolar system (1977–2003), widened the potential pool of parties that could be recruited in support of reform, and also decreased the resistance to reform of some of its opponents. A new set of incentives for supporting or rejecting reform came about in the post-1977 bipolar party system. On the one hand, reform was no longer seen as a move that would necessarily strengthen Mapai/Labor. Because the two large party alliances were roughly the same size, and because neither controlled the pivotal position, they both tended to support reform. The frustration over the power of the pivotal ultraorthodox parties (especially after they exclusively captured this position after the 1988 elections) increased extraparliamentary pressures for reform. On the other hand, these

215

216

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

pivotal parties, using their bargaining power, effectively vetoed electoral reform. In their rejection of electoral reform, however, the pivotal parties contributed to the channeling of reform pressures toward the ultimately successful initiative for direct election of the PM. The functioning of the political system declined (as assessed by scholars) parallel to its decline in the eyes of the public. Thus, public support for reform increased, along with other external pressures, and the inclination of politicians to promote it. Yet it should be stressed that the analysis did not indicate a collapse of the political system or a wholesale breakdown of public trust. Therefore, reform cannot be perceived as a necessity, but rather as a possible solution to problems that were recognized by the relevant actors. The growing independence of the Knesset from the Government and the parties, and its increased exposure to extraparliamentary and extragovernmental pressures, helped the promotion of reform. Since the 1970s, parliamentary maneuvers were required to delay the progress of reform and neutralize its substance, since it became progressively more difficult to ensure that the electoral reform bill would not gain majority support in the plenum. Other developments in the functioning of government institutions delayed electoral reform in the short run, but some also helped its promotion in the longer run. For example, the reform in the municipal government system—direct election of mayors—and various reforms in intraparty candidate selection methods on the eve of the 1977 elections served politicians as a substitute response to the pressures for electoral reform. But several years after its implementation, direct election of mayors aided reformers in presenting their case for electoral reform, and subsequently for direct election of the PM. Unity Governments (1984–1990) had a mixed influence on reform promotion. At the beginning, they served as a solution for the electoral deadlock and political turmoil, and thus weakened external pressures for reform. Later, when cooperation between the two large parties deteriorated and the weaknesses of this solution were exposed, they helped to increase external pressure for reform. At the same time, the increasing attempts of the two large parties to recruit the small, pivotal ultraorthodox parties to support a narrow Government that they would lead enabled the latter to exert effective pressure against reform. The influence of accumulated experience on reform promotion was also mixed. On the one hand, as time passed, and experience with three types of governing coalitions was accumulated, it was easier to claim that the problem was with the system and not with the leaders. On the other hand, repeated attempts at electoral reform created and sustained a hard core of vigilant opponents. The success of the two large party alliances in promoting the Bader-Ofer bill in 1973, in the face of opposition from all of the small parties, elicited a fear of unilateral promotion of a radical reform. Therefore, making electoral reform conditional on the consent of all partners in party alliances and coalitions became a permanent component of political agreements. In

THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES

217

many cases, rejection of reform survived changes in the balance of power among parties, and was sustained even after the threat from the dominant party decreased and reform proposals became more modest. Government system reform, which entered the political agenda only at the end of the 1980s, did not carry the baggage of past struggles and objections. Although some of its opponents referred to it and presented it as a similar initiative, most others distinguished it from reform of the system by which the Knesset is elected. It thus faced weaker objection even from traditional opponents of electoral reform, and even succeeded in gaining some support from those who perceived it as a harmless substitute, which would ease the pressure to adopt the more threatening electoral reform. Many long-term developments demonstrated that, over the years, power became increasingly dispersed among more and more actors. This was expressed by the change of the party system, the distribution of power and representation among parties and within them, and the increase in the independence of the Knesset vis-à-vis the executive branch and the party institutions. As the functioning of the political system as a whole declined—in the eyes of both experts and the public—together with the functioning of parties as mediators between state and society, the influence of extragovernmental independent forces, such as interest groups and public opinion, increased. Also, as the identification of the political system and government with Mapai/Labor weakened, it became easier to recruit support for reform in the name of systemic and nonpartisan interests. The room for maneuvering in reform promotion widened, and the potential pool of supporters increased. When power became dispersed, it became harder to distinguish between the winners and losers in the existing system, as well as those in the (potentially) reformed one. If there were a full correlation between the existence of constructive conditions for reform promotion (resulting from long-term developments) and the actual progress of reform initiatives, it would be expected that all later reform initiatives would progress further than earlier ones. The delay, freezing, and blocking of reform initiatives at their outset in 1959–1969 and 1977–1984—in comparison to the further progress of reform initiatives in earlier periods—demonstrates that there is no deterministic link between power dispersion and the success or failure of reform promotion. Long-term developments create conditions that can benefit reform promotion, but the actual progress of reform initiatives is dependent on the existence and activities of dedicated reformers willing to make the vast efforts needed to promote reform, even if conditions are favorable. CATALYZING EVENTS

A number of attempts to promote reform initiatives on the eve of elections were made with the intention of exploiting the decrease in the significance

218

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

of coalition politics and the increase in the readiness of politicians to demonstrate responsiveness to public grievances and demands. Mapai and the GZ tried to formulate a mutually acceptable reform proposal on the eve of the 1955 elections. Under the pressure of electoral politics, Labor and Likud tried to do the same on the eve of the 1977 elections. The exploitation of the popularity of reform by the reformist pressure groups on the eve of the 1992 elections influenced MKs behavior in the second and third readings of the direct election bill. Coalition negotiations and coalition crises were used to define the “problem” with the existing system, to focus attention on it, and to promote the “solution.” Already in 1953, a coalition crisis helped justify the initiative to adopt a 10 percent threshold. However, the use of events as “proof” of problems in the political system was limited at the time because those who were identified with government and the system—Mapai and Labor representatives—were the main promoters of reform (Rahat, 2001a). Only when significant extragovernmental actors appeared on the reform scene (as in the early 1990s) were events (expected and unexpected) more effectively exploited. The most successful use of a coalition crisis involved the events surrounding the Stinky Trick. The fact that similar events occurred prior to the early 1990s, but reform promotion failed, testifies that events, like longterm developments, are themselves only raw materials. Political actors may or may not (successfully) exploit events to promote reform. A comparison of the exploitation of two prominent events in Israeli politics for reform promotion—the Yom Kippur War (1973) and the Stinky Trick (1990)—clarifies the role of unexpected events in the politics of reform. In both cases, extragovernmental pressure groups protested against politicians and the political system in general and called for “change.” In the first case, protest was exploited successfully only in terms of passing the electoral reform bills in a preliminary reading. In the second case, the window of opportunity was used to pass the direct election bills in both the preliminary and first readings. Although the protest that followed the Yom Kippur War declined after a few months, in the 1990s, reformers managed to maintain (the image of) public pressure on a low flame, and successfully increased pressure when needed. They did so by repeatedly recalling the traumatic Stinky Trick, combined with other more current events and the results of opinion polls. It was not the case that in the 1970s there were fewer events, and that the trauma of the Yom Kippur War was less than that of the Stinky Trick; in the 1970s, though, there were no actors who would (or could) effectively continue to carry the reform banner and sustain (the image of) public pressure. The Lebanon War (1982), especially the central event of the massacre of Sabra and Shatilla, stands in contrast to these two events. It could have been linked to the need for reform in the regime structure because a promi-

THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES

219

nent flaw was exposed in the Government’s decision–making process about the war in general, and its responsibility for the IDF’s actions at the time of the massacre in particular. This defect could have been linked, for example, to a call for reform that would grant more authority to the Knesset to scrutinize the executive. However, this event was instead channeled in a partisan direction—mainly the confrontation between right and left—not toward a systemic demand to reexamine and reform the regime structure. THE ACTO RS

In light of these arguments, it is clear that actors (their perceptions, interests, stands, and behaviors) should be at the center of the analysis of the politics of reform. The actors convert long-term developments and events into justifications and catalysts for reform. Even under the most favorable circumstances, only their determination and persistence in promoting reform can overcome the series of barriers that faces reform promotion. The greater the power diffusion among the actors in the politics of reform, the further reform initiatives progressed. In the 1950s, parties were almost the exclusive actors in the politics of reform.2 Under these conditions, not only was reform blocked, but the electoral system also became constitutionally protected. In the 1970s, power was more dispersed. While parties were still the dominant actors, power was more evenly spread among them. Cracks in party discipline appeared in the voting on reform; significant extraparliamentary protest groups appeared on the scene and influenced the behavior of the MKs; support for reform was no longer limited to large parties; and several small parties expressed support for reform and even waved it as their banner. In the 1980s, power was even further dispersed, among and within governmental institutions and parties. Extraparliamentary actors— especially pressure groups and the public, but also the mass media and experts—became fairly independent political actors. Dispersion of power weakened the identification of the reform initiative with a specific Government and party. Reform could be presented and perceived as a systemic, nonpartisan issue, which eased the channeling of nonpartisan protest to support the cause of reform. Governments—usually the strongest actors in the Israeli parliamentary system—refrained from playing a key role in the politics of reform because they did not want to jeopardize the multiparty governing coalitions that included both opponents and proponents of reform. Parties and their Knesset representatives decided the fate of reform at all times. The changes in power dispersion over the years—the increase in the independence of the Knesset from the Government (and especially its coalition constraints) and of individual MKs from their party’s institutions—widened the available space for reformers’ maneuvers. Furthermore, over the years, additional governmental

220

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

actors joined the game. The previously restrained Supreme Court helped the reformers in their struggle against the parliamentary maneuvers of their opponents and legitimized claims of political misconduct. The involvement of the president, with his nonpartisan legitimacy, also contributed to the promotion of reform. The decrease in the functioning of parties as mediators between state and society not only increased the independence of MKs, but also increasingly exposed them to the influence of extragovernmental actors such as pressure groups and public opinion. Pressure groups were the most important extra parliamentary actors. They were effective when they demonstrated persistence and the ability to adapt to changing circumstances and to exploit opportunities for reform promotion. More than being central in and of themselves for reform promotion, public opinion, mass media, and experts served interest groups and pro-reform politicians in their attempts to increase pressures for reform. The public, who supported “change,” was rarely active. Public pressure was sustained by those who spoke in its name. From the 1980s, the results of opinion polls helped these “public spokespersons” legitimize their claims of representing the public. The mass media helped promote reform by magnifying and focusing on the problems that reformers linked to the alleged need for reform. Most of the time, expert opinions were used instrumentally, to supply professional legitimacy to the stands of the main actors on the scene. While many actors played a role in reform promotion, its content was largely determined in the Knesset. Reformist MKs actively determined reform content, but—as an analysis of the evolution of the direct election initiatives demonstrates (chapter five)—they were far from fulfilling their reformist vision. Pragmatism also played a role in the initiation of moderate electoral reform proposals in the 1970s and 1980s. In 1990, MKs determined that direct election of the PM would be promoted, and not electoral reform, both by supplying active support for it and by demonstrating less rejection of it. Other actors joined in support for this reform after reconciling with the fact it was “the only game in town” (in the case of the pressure groups) or out of their support for “change” in general (in the case of the public). CHARACTERISTICS OF THE REFO RM PROPOSAL

The characteristics of the reform proposal influenced the size of the potential pool of reform supporters. The moderate electoral reform proposals— which combined proportionality with regional and sometimes personal elements—drew more support and progressed further than the radical majoritarian proposals. Attempts at promoting open-ended formulations, in order to crystallize “a coalition for change” in the first stages of legislation, failed. Crucial potential supporters feared that the detailed reform formula that would be written

THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES

221

later on would be promoted and adopted without their consent (with the support of a different coalition). Furthermore, they assessed that rejecting reform at later stages would cost them more, as they would be seen as self-interested incoherent opportunists. In contrast, uncertainty as to the political consequences of complete reform proposals, whose core content was clear from the beginning, was constructive. Their initiators and supporters could effectively market various versions of their anticipated consequences. This potential was fully exploited only in the case of the direct election bill. Uncertainty about the consequences of direct election allowed for relatively easy marketing of various interpretations of its political consequences. The hard, decisive core that led direct election all the way, successfully exploited its multifaceted nature—the mix of old and new, proportionality and majoritarianism, parliamentarism and presidentialism—to recruit majority support from actors with different, and even contradicting, perceptions and interests. STAGES OF THE REFO RM PRO CESS

Substantial differences between the stages of the reform process justify the suggested division into four stages. Indeed, stands and behaviors of actors in earlier stages influenced their behavior in later stages. But, as shown, in each of the stages the struggle was between camps with significantly different compositions. The relative importance of the various actors changed over time, and the goals set in each stage were also different: starting with penetrating the decision-makers’ agenda; going through initial approval of reform through crystallizing “coalitions for change”; struggling for the survival of reform in the public and legislative agendas; and finishing the long march with the legislature’s final adoption of a specific reform formula. The first stage, initiative and recognition, began with the penetration of reform into the political agenda and ended when decision-makers started to make active decisions on reform. The main struggle at that stage was to get the politicians to recognize reform as an issue that deserved serious consideration. If the initiative originated with the politicians (like most of the initiatives for electoral reform), this recognition was achieved through struggles in the parties and the Knesset. However, if the bill originated with an external actor, or lacked minimal partisan support (like the initiative for the direct election of the PM), attempts to directly influence politicians were backed up with attempts at recruiting public support. On the one hand, repeated initiatives for electoral reform increased familiarity and recognition with it and legitimized its serious consideration. On the other hand, when electoral reform penetrated the agenda repeatedly, it immediately activated automatic rejections from within the political system. This was evident from the fact that many coalition agreements included the granting of veto power over the promotion of electoral reform to coalition partners. In contrast,

222

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

direct election, an innovative initiative, suffered from a relatively negative reception from the mass media and experts and also (unlike electoral reform) lacked public support at its beginning. Yet innovation was an advantage in the parliamentary domain because no prior partisan decisions and attitudes made it a controversial issue that could threaten coalition stability. It also enjoyed, in its early stages, the perception of being a harmless (almost naïve) initiative with no real chance of being adopted. This allowed reform to pass its early stages without drawing much attention. In the second stage, initial approval, reform passed the first stages of legislation. It started when the legislation process began and ended with the ratification of the proposal by the legislators. Until the 1980s, even the most successful electoral reform initiatives were blocked at this stage. Most initiatives were rejected at the beginning of this stage, in the preliminary reading, and the two that passed it were buried in the CLJC without reaching the first reading. In the 1980s, electoral reform passed this stage for the first time; in 1990, the government reform bills passed it within a three-month period. The main task of reformers at this stage was to create a coalition for “change.” This required them to build a coalition around the consent of supporters of the various reform proposals to postpone the settlement of their differences. The activities of pressure groups, public protest, and public opinion polls were used to create pressure for change. In 1974, the electoral reform bill passed the preliminary reading with the support of a coalition for change that was divided in its opinions on reform content, but felt that it must demonstrate responsiveness to the post–Yom Kippur War protests. In the first reading of 1988, a coalition for change was established around two competing electoral reform proposals. In the case of direct election, public pressure for “change” was successfully exploited to back up a full passage of this stage, with an agreement among supporters of different reforms to settle their differences in later stages. In the third stage, the struggle for survival, support for change could no longer be a symbolic stance that served to demonstrate responsiveness to external pressures. The projected influence of reform on the fate of the parties and politicians became a central consideration. Therefore, settling disagreements could not be postponed anymore and there was a need to create one formula for reform. Among the electoral reforms, only the 1980s initiative reached this stage. Its burial at this stage was a result of coalition pressures from the ultraorthodox parties, who saw it as a threat to their very existence. Direct election survived and passed this stage because protest, rather than disappearing, was institutionalized and focused on the promotion of direct election; because a decisive group of MKs from different parties succeeded in agreeing on one single version of reform; and because Labor and other left-wing parties decided to actively support this proposal, seeing it as a tool for rebuilding their image. At the same time, most reform opponents restrained their activism because they did not want to be identified with the

THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES

223

rejection of a popular reform, and because explicit rejection could have complicated coalition politics. Their main effort was geared toward blocking the reform bills from reaching a second reading, that is, killing them softly rather than openly rejecting them. Only direct election reached the fourth stage, that of reform adoption. At the beginning of this stage, it seemed that the attempts at blocking it were working. The composition of the camps of reform opponents and proponents was substantially different from that of the first reading, when the core of the party system supported reform while the extremes rejected it. Most opposition MKs supported reform out of the belief that it improved their chances to govern, while most of the MKs from the governing opposition rejected it for the same reason. What enabled this reform to survive the first attempt at a second reading (January 1992) was the deviant behavior of some MKs from the governing coalition. While opponents succeeded in delaying legislation for a limited period, the reformers did not surrender and made all the necessary compromises to ensure its passage, including delaying the implementation of reform until after the next elections. When reform was finally raised for second and third readings, the delay in its implementation made the consideration of its political consequences a secondary issue. At the same time, the forthcoming elections made electoral considerations—the popularity of reform in the public—more important than ever. After the failed attempts to freeze and neutralize the bill in the CLJC, direct election passed the final vote in the plenum without a serious struggle. THE IMPO RTANCE OF THE VARIOUS BARRIERS TO REFO RM IN A HISTO RICAL COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE

The Procedural Barrier When conditions for promoting reform became more favorable and the price of voting against reform increased, the importance of the protection of the electoral system since 1958 against amendments with plurality support became evident. Due to this protection, MKs could defeat the bill without having to vote against it. That is, they could be absent or abstain claiming to support reform, but not specifically the one being proposed. This protection required reformers to delay voting many times when they were unsure whether they would succeed in recruiting the active support of the absolute majority that they needed. Electoral reform won the support of an absolute majority only in 1972, under the influence of the internal struggle in Likud between the Liberals and Herut; at the beginning of 1974, under the influence of the post–Yom Kippur protest; and in 1988, thanks to the exploitation of a relatively rare situation of a religious-secular confrontation—and not left-right or Likud-Labor one—and the presence of many MKs in the plenum.

224

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

In contrast, direct election of the PM did not require the support of an absolute majority and did not achieve it at any of the readings on the reform bill. Its champions actually enjoyed the absences and abstentions of its opponents, especially during the crucial second reading of January 1992. Reform opponents used Knesset regulations, along with the special authorities of key parliamentary actors, in their attempts at blocking and delaying reform. There were numerous examples of parliamentary maneuvers in the plenum and in the CLJC, as well as entrenchments of amendments that caused delays in the promotion of electoral reform initiatives and led subsequently—when the windows of opportunities, created by pressures of external actors, were closed—to their burial. In short, legislative procedures, as determined by law and Knesset regulations, supplied many opportunities to delay reform promotion. To ensure that delays would not subsequently lead to the burial of reform, reformers had to be persistent in their actions, ready to invest many efforts in the struggle to promote the bill. Political Tradition Political tradition was a relatively easy barrier to overcome. Events were used to reduce the emotional attachment to political tradition. At times like the post–Yom Kippur War and the Stinky Trick periods, the desire to change and fix overcame the tendency to idealize the past. But even in calmer times, the barrier of political tradition did not pose much difficulty. Since the 1970s, the prominent reform initiatives were moderate and combined traditional proportionality (suggesting a moderate change in its level) with new regional and personal elements. The preservation of PR demonstrated sensitivity to political tradition and served to calm fears of a radical change that would deviate from the inclusive political tradition. At the same time that PR served tradition, the reformist elements could be presented as solutions to some “real” problems—solutions that would not harm PR, but could actually help in its preservation since the fine-tuning of the system would respond to pressures for reform and ease them. The case of direct election demonstrates that there is a room for maneuvering in regard to this barrier. A substantial change of the parliamentary system, a system that was an undisputed element in Israeli political tradition since the pre-state era, could be presented convincingly as a moderate change from within the existing system. It was even offered as a tool to ensure the preservation of PR, because it was claimed to solve the problems that stemmed from hyperrepresentation without changing the electoral system used for electing the Knesset. Systemic Rationale Like political tradition, the systemic rationale of the existing order was also a relatively easy barrier to overcome. All that was needed was a demonstration of

THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES

225

sensitivity and the expression of an obligation to the basic principal of the institutional order—the representation of all relevant social groups. Ben-Gurion, who saw reform as a tool for transforming society and promoting stateism, suggested the abolition of PR (Rahat, 2001a). Other reform initiators treated the heterogeneous character of Israel’s multicleavaged society as a given, a fact that must be taken into consideration when formulating reform. Thus, they were willing to preserve PR and try to improve governability and responsiveness in the framework of the inclusive political order. Changes in the functioning of the political system that resulted from the diffusion of power helped justify the reformist cause and indicated the (majoritarian) direction of the needed reform. These changes did not dictate the specific content of reform, though, and much space was left for legitimately suggesting various reform initiatives. These included direct election of the PM, which might look quite innovative to political scientists, but to laypeople and members of other disciplines seemed a reasonable way of combining inclusive logic (in the elections for the Knesset) with a majoritarian cure (in the elections for the PM). Vested Interests Vested interests at all levels (partisan, factional, and personal) stood as the main barriers to reform. As demonstrated, a party’s size, and its location on the political map (and sometimes also within a party alliance), were often linked to its stands on the question of reform. That is, larger and more centrist parties were likely to support reform because of its expected majoritarian and centripetal effects, while smaller and extremist parties were likely to oppose it for the same reason. But vested interests were not pronounced in the (simplistic) way they are sometimes described, as motivating the protection of the system by those who benefited from it and who held a parliamentary majority.3 The main flagbearer of electoral reform in the 1950s and 1970s was actually the dominant party, Mapai/Labor. Herut’s rejection of reform weakened with the increase in its power, and it even became a supporter. Parties that held relatively comfortable positions in the system—in the sense of their size or location—initiated reforms to improve their standing. Those who were the firmest opponents of reform were the weaker parties, those on the right, left and religious poles.4 The mainstream parties’ attempts at promoting reform initiatives from the 1970s on also signified their responsiveness to external pressures for reform. The extremes maintained their rejection, fearing that any small change would create centripetal pressures that would affect them negatively. In the highly proportional Israeli system, the majority has no vested interests in the existing system. This barrier is nevertheless relevant because of the differences in the magnitude of the vested interests of the different forces. For the parties that

226

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

together hold a majority, reform meant improvement, so they supported it. The very existence (not “improvement”) of the minority was perceived to be dependent on the preservation of the system, so the minority, exploiting its strategic stand, vetoed the majority’s tendency to support reform. Thus, small parties—as crucial coalition partners—together with parties within alliances and factions within parties—who could effectively threaten to defect or cancel their partnership in the framework of the existing system—played a central role in blocking electoral reform. On occasion, though, a party’s perception of its interests did not match the projected future influence of adopting a specific reform on its power and representation. In several instances, parties’ stands were dictated by basic fear of change, of creating a dangerous precedent—especially in the adversarial politics of electoral reform of the 1950s—and were not necessarily based on fear of the consequences of a specific reform. In the case of electoral reform, perceived interests were influenced by a political tradition that developed over the years. This tradition survived even when changes in the size of parties and in their position in the party system justified a change of perception. In contrast, direct election was new on the reform agenda, and various perceptions of its consequences could be successfully marketed. These served as an anchor in times of uncertainty: in the first reading, the votes of most MKs roughly reflected the perception that the projected consequences of direct election would be similar to those of a more majoritarian electoral system; in the second reading, most voting was dictated by notions of the projected power relations between the left and the right. On the individual level, the electoral reform proposals contained certain elements—such as districting and personal ballots—that could threaten individual MKs from pro-reform parties. These not only lowered their motivation to support electoral reforms, but also encouraged them to oppose them behind the scenes. The influence of the interests of MKs was apparent in the case of direct election, when the final formulation of the bill gave them more power than the various versions that were discussed along the way. It also seems that MKs did not see direct election of the PM as threatening to their personal fate, and thus did not demonstrate much zeal in rejecting it. The Coalition Barrier The coalition barrier—the veto of a small party that is a crucial partner in a governing coalition, or that of a party in an alliance, or a faction within a party—is central to understanding the blocking of reform initiatives in the Israeli system since the 1970s. In a dominant party system, like that of the 1950s, this barrier was not central (except for the case of the stubborn struggle of the Progressive Party against the initiative to increase the legal threshold) because the promoter of reform, Mapai, had several coalition alternatives.

THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES

227

In the 1960 and early 1970s, coalition politics was a main barrier to reform especially from within alliances and parties. With the establishment of a minimal winning coalition under Rabin in 1974, and later as the bipolar system evolved, pressures by the small parties became the central barrier for reform. The establishment of the unity Governments (1984–1990) was an opportunity to overcome this barrier, but was evidently not enough to enable completion of the reform move. The passage of electoral reform in the first reading in 1988, as well as the continuity of legislation and agreement on content between the two large parties at the beginning of 1989, occurred at times when the ultraorthodox parties crossed the line—when the threat of amending the Law of Return seemed real—and created counter pressures for temporary cooperation between the secular parties. However, the ongoing struggle between the large parties for the support of the ultraorthodox parties enabled the latter to block reform. The direct election initiatives suffered much less from the coalition veto. At first it was a nonissue that did not appear in coalition agreements. Later, when it became a real option, it was almost vetoed and was saved at the last moment on election eve, at a time that was characterized by the temporary weakening of coalition considerations in favor of electoral ones. Agreement on Content It is not enough to form a majority that supports change; reformers must agree on the substance of reform. Otherwise, a fluid majority, composed of reform opponents and groups of supporters of different versions of reform, would likely block reform. This barrier has two aspects, substantial and manipulative. In the 1950s, the barrier was substantial. The behavior of Mapai showed support for a radical reform, but opposition to a more moderate one that could have damaged its small and loyal coalition partners without the benefit of a manufactured majority. In contrast, the GZ preferred a more moderate reform to the existing system, but favored the status quo to the SMD proposal of Mapai. While at certain limited points the GZ and Mapai seemed to find common ground, this disagreement delayed the promotion of reform (Rahat, 2001a). In the 1970s, the priorities of the small pro-reform parties were also nonlinear. They supported electoral reforms, including proposals that could have eliminated them, but harshly rejected the much smaller change in the remainders allocation formula. In the case of the more moderate reform proposals that were raised in the 1970s and later—with their limited anticipated effect on proportionality and the partial adoption of districts and personal elements—disagreement on content seemed to reflect manipulative excuses rather than substantial arguments. Alleged disagreement on content and claims of support for a different version of reform allowed parties to demonstrate reformist spirit vis-à-vis the

228

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

public, while rejecting specific proposals in order to serve other interests (e.g., coalition). This barrier to promoting reform is similar to the procedural barrier. Its main contribution to the preservation of the status quo was a delay in promoting reform, sometimes at critical times of focused external reformist pressures. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS: THE ISRAELI EXPERIENCE

Electoral reform initiatives progressed further, and government system reform was even adopted, with the increase in power dispersion among the political actors: within political institutions, among them, and between them and extragovernmental actors. This supplied reformers with a growing space for maneuvering and enlarged their potential pool of supporters. Reformers could raise compromise proposals that could be interpreted as serving wider interests. These developments enabled reformers to overcome—partially in the case of electoral reform and completely in the case of direct election—the coalition veto, which was a central barrier. The effective pressure of external actors balanced antireformist pressures from within the Knesset, and power dispersion within and among political institutions decreased the levels of party cohesion and made imposing coalition discipline more difficult. In addition, reformers took advantage of events that increased the significance of external pressures, such as general elections and crises like the Yom Kippur War and the Stinky Trick. The barrier of vested interests at the level of parties was linked—from the 1970s, in the case of electoral reform—directly to the coalition barrier. The prominent opponents to reform were the small and extreme parties or factions within parties and party alliances. The champions of direct election overcame the barrier of vested interests because they enjoyed the lack of traditional perception on the issue, and thus succeeded in presenting different versions of its projected consequences. Both the procedural barrier and the barrier of disagreement on reform content were primarily delaying factors in the politics of reform. Their importance was in allowing reform opponents to delay the promotion of reform until after external pressures, or other temporary conditions that were constructive for reform promotion, eased or changed. In the case of direct elections, reformers overcame the most significant procedural maneuvers of their opponents by inviting the Supreme Court to decide against the delay in legislation. They also succeeded in recruiting a majority in the House Committee that rejected claims of their procedural wrongdoings—like the passage of four versions of reform in the first reading. The persistence of the reformers, and their ongoing activity in the Knesset and outside it, did not allow opponents to bury reform quietly in the committee. At the same time, external pressures influenced many MKs to refrain from publicly rejecting reform out

THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES

229

of the fear of having to pay the price in light of public support. Overcoming disagreements on content became possible because reformers were very flexible: first they only insisted on support for “change,” and later, when they needed support for a specific version of reform, they insisted only on the preservation of direct election of the PM. Everything else (timing of implementation, Knesset–PM power relations) was left open for negotiations and compromise. Overcoming political tradition and the perception of the systemic rationale of the existing order was relatively easy. The promoted proposals combined the new with the old—subdistricts with a national district, presidentialism with parliamentarism. This enabled reformers to stand up to claims of insensitivity to the inclusive parliamentary political tradition and of lacking a systemic rationale.

This page intentionally left blank.

NINE

The Politics of Regime Structure Reform in Established Democracies A Cross-National Comparative Perspective

THIS CHAPTER COMPARES the findings of the analysis of the Israeli case

studies with those of Italy, Japan, and New Zealand, where electoral reform was adopted in the 1990s.1 Most studies gave detailed historical accounts of the politics of reform and this enabled an examination and comparison of the findings within the flexible framework for analysis and the list of barriers that were used for the study of the Israeli cases. It was obvious that it would be hard to find commonalities among the group of established democracies that adopted electoral reform in the 1990s. In comparisons that used very basic distinctions—population size, geographical location, cultural group, age of democracy, levels of economic development, and the structure of society—at least one of the four was found to be substantially different from the others, and more similar to countries where electoral reform was not adopted. Furthermore, according to Lijphart’s (1999) taxonomy of regimes in established democracies, the regimes of these countries were remarkably dissimilar. Israel and New Zealand were prominent in being among the most unitary democracies, yet the former had one of the most consensual regime types when it comes to the executive-party dimension, while the latter had one of the most majoritarian. Japan and Italy were different from Israel and New Zealand, with their “extreme” regime structures, in having relatively “moderate” or “balanced” types of regime structures. LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS

This section demonstrates that the specific long-term developments that were useful for the analysis of the Israeli case studies were often not relevant for the 231

232

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

analysis of the other cases. Other features that were found to be common to all the cases in which reform was adopted failed to supply a distinctive characteristic for these cases because the same developments also occurred in countries where reform was not adopted. Will to Change the Party System But Not a Change of the Party System The transformation of the Israeli party system from a dominant party system to a bipolar one helped in reform promotion. In the other three cases, however, no such development occurred prior to the adoption of reform. Reformers actually attributed the main problems in the functioning of government to the (unchanged) party system, and claimed that reform would solve them through transforming the party system. In New Zealand, the SMD system allowed the National Party and Labor to preserve their duopoly, although support for these parties continuously declined in the decades that preceded reform. It was perceived that PR would help break the prolonged duopoly. The Italian and Japanese dominant party systems lost their main justification—that of being a bulwark against the “red threat” from the left—with the collapse of the Eastern European Communist block in 1989. Reformers in Italy anticipated that reform would encourage the establishment of a two-party system—or at least a bipolar one—that would facilitate Government turnover and thus help remedy the corrupt Italian partitocracy. Many Japanese reformers wanted to establish a two-party system composed of two conservative parties, which would allow Government turnover and thus cure the pathologies linked to the decades of dominance of the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), particularly the corruption. Prior to 1977, some supporters of electoral reform in Israel saw it as a device that would help replace the dominant (multi) party system with a two-party system, creating a clear governing alternative to that of Mapai/Alignment. Direct election of the PM was intended to improve the post-1977 bipolar system through creating two clear pre-election governing alternatives. Common to all these cases is the fact that reformers attributed problems in the functioning of the political system to the structure of the party system and suggested that reform would resolve them through changing its nature. The difference between the cases was sometimes in the characteristics of the party systems they sought to change and sometimes in the specific problems that were attributed to the party system. Various Problems and Not Necessarily an Overburdened Polity In the 1980s, many political systems seemed to be overburdened. On the one hand, their ability to ensure socioeconomic welfare in the face of recession,

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

233

budgetary pressures, and small growth rates decreased. On the other hand, pressures on government grew when parties lost their status as the main mediators between state and society. Italy was extremely overburdened at the beginning of the 1990s. In addition to the previously mentioned pressures, Italy faced an intensification of its regional cleavages following the Northern League electoral success. It also faced the challenge of fulfilling the targeted level of national debt set by the European Union, which was countered by citizens’ demands and clientelistic habits. Of the four cases, Italy was the closest to what can be labeled as crisis—although it was within a democracy, so it did not threaten to lead to the collapse of its regime. In 1991–1994, Italy not only reformed its electoral system and other institutions, but also experienced a wholesale realignment of both voters and politicians, a collapse of the old parties and their replacement by new and substantially renovated parties. The Israeli political system could also be defined as extremely overburdened. In addition to the multiple challenges of governing a multicleavaged society, it had to cope with security challenges. In the Japanese case, the main problem that was identified was political corruption. As long as the “economic miracle” was in place, the governing party maintained its dominance. But, at the beginning of the 1990s, the Japanese economic miracle started to subside, and the struggle within the dominant LDP intensified. The pace of exposing political scandals grew and the circles of those involved in them widened. With political stability and economic growth on the decline, there was less willingness to reconcile with the former patterns of politics, and reform initiatives aimed at enabling Government turnover found a more sympathetic audience. Italy, Israel, and Japan suffered from what can be generalized under the label “problems of governability.” They seemed to fail in addressing the demands and challenges that they faced. In contrast, reform pressures in New Zealand were perceived as a response to a hyperactive government that did too much (Shugart & Wattenberg, 2001b). Confronting harsh economic problems that started at the beginning of the 1970s, Governments of either one of the two large parties allowed themselves to continuously implement radical socioeconomic policies, disregarding the fact that they were based on the support of decreasing pluralities of voters. These policies were not included in their election platforms, which aroused the criticism of a majority of the citizens who were used to a political culture in which election promises were perceived as binding. Criticism further intensified because a small group at the top of the governmental and economic elite determined these policies; most cabinet ministers and MPs just complied with their dictates. Reformers claimed that the adoption of PR would put checks on Government and renew its responsiveness to the grievances and demands of the citizens.

234

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

A Change in Citizens’ Perception of the Polity: A Phenomenon (Much) Too Widespread In all four cases, scholars present evidence of citizens’ dissatisfaction with the political system. In the case of New Zealand, a set of indicators testifies to voters’ dealignment with the two large parties in the two decades prior to reform.2 Dealignment was explained as resulting from the feeling in the public that government had failed to be responsive to its preferences. This feeling was of great importance because the fate of reform was in the hands of the public (through referendums). Many supported reform to protest the Government’s behavior, as a way of punishing the politicians from the large parties who opposed reform. Dissatisfaction with the polity was a chronic, widespread phenomenon in Italy from the 1940s. For decades, the Italian government was infamous for problems of governability, corruption, and clientelism. The circumstances of the cold war—in which Italy was a “frontier state” that allegedly faced an enemy from within, a large Communist party—provided the government with an alibi for its misconduct and policy failures. Until the end of the 1980s, the government was judged by the lenient, negative measure of anticommunism. With the collapse of communism in 1989, this justification became irrelevant. Positive measures, such as effectiveness, economic growth, and honesty were used to assess a government that held on to its (bad) old habits, which opened a Pandora’s box. Difficult problems that had been put on the back burner were finally exposed. These included a corrupt system of clientelism whose maintenance required a high level of public spending, and links between the government and the Mafia. In this context, long-term developments such as secularism and the decline of ideology, which already weakened the links between the public and the parties, finally found their expression. The exposure of the scope of political corruption by the investigating judges and the failure to meet the EU economic requirements sparked public protest. The public demonstrated its will for change through elections—in which the parties of the governing coalition weakened at the same time that protest vote for the Northern League increased—and through voting in referendums in support of all suggested reforms, including electoral reforms. In Japan, electoral behavior was interpreted as a warning signal from the public toward the political system in general and the LDP in particular. This signal, however, was a far cry from the forthcoming political earthquake that occurred in Italy.3 Unlike Italy and New Zealand, Japan held no referendums on reform. Public criticism was not focused or channeled toward the demand for electoral reform. In Israel, there were indications of citizen dissatisfaction with the polity. Some of these indications, however, were not pronounced only at the times of

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

235

reform promotion. Other measurements actually indicated stability and even improvement in citizens’ perceptions of the polity at the end of the 1980s. But dissatisfaction with the polity is (much) too widespread a phenomenon to serve as an explanation for the adoption of reform. It appeared also at times when no reform was promoted; it was not necessarily higher at times of reform; and it was not unique to those countries that adopted reform, but appeared also in those that did not. High levels of citizen dissatisfaction with the polity make the ground fertile for the promotion of reformist policies, but not specifically of electoral reform. Developments in the Functioning of Political Institutions: Few Similarities, Many Differences An important development in the Israeli case was the increase in the independence of the Knesset vis-à-vis the Government and the parties, which enabled reform promotion even in the face of coalition pressures. In the Japanese case, the intensification of conflicts within the LDP, defections from it, and the establishment of new parties all helped reformers to recruit crosspartisan support for reform within parliament. In the Italian case, legislators recruited support outside of parliament, from the public, in order to coerce their fellow parliamentarians to agree on reform content. In New Zealand, strong party cohesion and discipline were maintained, and did not pose a major barrier to reform because parliament’s role in reform promotion was very limited. No single pattern of development in the functioning of the parliaments and parties was common to all four cases. Although the Israeli and Japanese parliaments seemed to be more independent in the 1990s, Italy and New Zealand (in which the parliament was bypassed via the referendum device) showed no such developments. Cumulative Experience: More Mixed Findings Following the analysis of the Israeli case, it could be expected that it would be easier to market systemic solutions after experiencing various governmental alternatives because the claim that the problem is with the regime structure rather than the rulers would become more convincing. But in the three other cases, experience was rather limited: continuous single party rule in the Japanese case; continuous single party dominance and continuous rule of a similar governing coalition in the Italian case; and an experience with only two governing alternatives in New Zealand. In these cases, reform was expected to encourage the creation of either a new governing alternative (in Japan and Italy) or a new, more representative and more restrained form of government (in New Zealand) (Mulgan, 1995). In the Israeli case, the innovative nature of direct election aided its promotion because it did not have to confront the almost automatic rejections

236

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

raised against initiatives for electoral reform. In New Zealand, electoral reform was practically a new issue—it was demanded in the past only by third parties, who were very weak due to the effects of the electoral system. The lack of experience with a real possibility of reform explains the reckless behavior of politicians who rejected reform but nevertheless surrendered to the temptation to use the issue for achieving immediate electoral gains. A lack of belief in the real possibility of reform led them to make the popular promise to give the people the final say on the adoption of reform. In contrast, studies of the Japanese case emphasized that lessons were learned from past failures. The Israeli experience teaches us that various institutional reforms can serve, to some extent, as excuses to refrain from responding to demands for electoral reform. But as time passes, such reforms can become precedents and play a role in reform promotion. This effect is dependent on the prevalent interpretation of the precedent in public discourse (as a success or failure) and on the actors’ use of it. The record on the role of precedents in the politics of reform is mixed. Studies of Japanese reform indicate no positive role concerning precedents of institutional reform—including the adoption of an electoral reform in 1979 for its upper chamber—for the promotion of electoral reform at the beginning of the 1990s. In Italy, one precedent—adopting electoral reform at the local level—only discouraged reform at the national level because the parties that controlled a majority in parliament suffered harsh defeats under the new system. In short, cumulative experience includes issues that can be used (or ignored) by one or both sides of the struggle to make the case for or against reform. Past experience with reform promotion is also a mixed blessing for reformers. While they can learn from it to improve their tactics, their opponents can do the same. While precedents that are seen as successful serve to justify the cause of reform, the very success of promoting reforms in the past ensures that the guardians of the status quo will be more alert when faced with a reform initiative. CATALYZING EVENTS

Elections, a perennial event in democracies, were mentioned in all cases as catalyzing events in the politics of reform. The establishment of the Royal Commission to study electoral reform and other institutional issues in New Zealand was the implementation of a clause in Labor’s election platform. This clause was adopted following dissatisfaction with way the electoral system translated votes into seats in the 1981 and the 1984 elections: Labor won a plurality of votes but its rival, the National Party, won the majority of seats. Later, the two large parties in New Zealand, who opposed reform, actually contributed to its promotion by not resisting the temptation to use it to serve

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

237

their electoral goals. It was a game of confrontation and reaction: a slip of the tongue of the Labor incumbent PM in a television debate prior to the 1987 elections returned the issue to the agenda. He promised a referendum on the Royal Commission’s recommendation even though this did not represent his party’s stand and did not appear in its election platform. Labor failed to stand by this promise, so the National Party, in order to embarrass Labor, made the same promise and stuck to it, conducting the 1992 and the 1993 referendums on reform. In short, miscalculations of politicians, who used electoral reform as a weapon in electoral politics and had no intention of promoting it, helped it penetrate the political agenda and survive, to be formulated and decided on by others. In Japan, voter behavior (turnout and voting patterns in elections for both chambers) was interpreted as a pro-reform message. The LDP’s loss of its majority in the 1993 elections, and the establishment of a governing coalition without it, were important catalysts in the process of reform promotion. In Italy, the results of both local and national elections—in which support for the governing parties decreased and the power of protest parties like the Northern League increased—were interpreted as pro-reform messages as well. The results of the 1991 and the 1993 referendums, in which electoral reform and various other reforms won huge majorities, were even a clearer reformist message. The electoral cycle that characterizes established democracies—which means that politicians are certain of facing the voters’ judgment—was a catalyzing event in all cases. Short-term electoral considerations (the popularity of reform) were mixed together with long-term considerations of the effect of reform on the future distribution of power among the parties. The success of the reformers in linking their initiative to electoral politics helped its promotion in the cases of Japan, Italy, and Israel; in New Zealand, the promise to deal with the issue, rather than to promote it, became part of electoral politics. However, the fact that elections played a role in reform promotion in all cases is not particularly helpful to the search for distinctive commonalities of the cases of reform adoption since elections are events that are common to all democracies by definition. Various events, unplanned but not new or surprising, served as catalysts in the politics of electoral reform in Japan. Corruption was endemic in Japanese politics. Government scandals were periodically exposed from the 1970s on. The period 1989–1994 saw an increase in the intensity of the exposure of corruption scandals and in the scope of involvement of governmental personal. This made the old “solution” to these scandals—the replacement of those accused of corruption—no longer satisfactory. In response, the PMs established special committees to look into the possibility of a systemic “solution”—a reform. This move was an attempt to shift the blame from the “politicians” and the “party” (LDP) to the “system.”

238

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

The unexpected national and international events of 1989–1993 in Italy served as a catalyst for wholesale reform and party system change. The collapse of the communist regimes of the Eastern Bloc in 1989 invalidated the justification for the existing order and opened the way for the transformation of the party system. The Communist Party adapted to it through organizational and ideological renewal and became a pro-system party. The Christian Democratic Party started to weaken with the demise of the main justification for its existence (which survived long after its religious rationale lost its relevance)—the anticommunist rationale. Its failure to fulfill the economic requirements of the European Union further lessened its credibility as a governing force. Public exposure of the scope and depth of political corruption— especially the murder of one of the investigating judges—contributed to the further delegitimation of the status quo. In this context, reformers won much public support for their cause. In Israel, reformers used coalition events—the coalition bargaining after the 1988 elections and especially the 1990 coalition crisis—as evidence of the ills of the system and successfully argued that their reform proposal would cure them. Sakamoto (1999), in comparing the cases of New Zealand, Italy, and Japan, saw events as central components of the explanation for reform as they led to substantial changes in the calculations of politicians and thus to the recruitment of their support in changing the status quo. The problem with this approach is that events cannot be seen, in and of themselves, as directly linked to reforms. Events cannot be viewed as “proof” of a problem whose cure is a specific reform. Human actions are needed to transform events into catalysts for a specific reform. BACKGROUND FACTO RS: LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS AND EVENTS—CONCLUDING REMARKS

No one specific long-term development or event can be considered central to reform promotion. On the one hand, it was found that some of the long-term developments were not common to all four cases. On the other hand, those long-term developments that appear to be common to all of four cases represent ambiguous categories, so they are of little use to serious research. For example, one generalization is that when the system malfunctions—especially when actors identify a “crisis”—it should be easier to promote reform. The problem is that many democracies where reform was not adopted (or even raised as a viable option) could be similarly diagnosed as suffering from a “crisis.”4 A question remains as to whether a common denominator exists regarding the conditions that developed in those arenas where reform was adopted, beyond the categories suggested earlier. In all four cases, reform in the regime

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

239

structure was not the only reform adopted at the same time. In the 1980s, New Zealand adopted a radical socioeconomic reform package, which included extensive deregulation of the economic system and substantial changes in the welfare system, a bill of rights, and also a reformed referendum procedure that enabled citizens’ initiatives (Catt, 1996). In Japan, new party finance laws were adopted parallel to adopting electoral reform. In Italy, electoral reform at the local level preceded that of the national level. It can be said that these countries were in an “era of reform,” yet this seems to be an overly broad description to work with. Counties adopt various kinds of reforms from time to time, but they rarely reform their regime structure. The variance previously described shows that the linkage between the definition of the “problem” (as expressed by long term developments and events) and its “solution” (reform) are wo/man-made. In other words, not only can different “problems” lead to adopting quite similar “solutions,” but “solutions” to the same “problem” can also vary. This leads to the conclusion that the specific characteristics of long-term developments and events are not central to understanding why reform happens. They are instead raw materials that reformers transform into justifications, motivations, and tools to recruit support for their cause. Shugart (2001) found that the four democracies that adopted reform had more “extreme” electoral systems than most of the democracies that did not adopt reform. “Extreme” systems were defined according to measurements of various election results from the two decades prior to reform adoption, and related to two dimensions: interparty and intraparty. The midpoint in each of these dimensions was interpreted as representing an optimal balance between majoritarianism and proportionality (in the interparty dimension) and personal and partisan politics (in the intraparty dimension). Extremism meant that electoral systems were electorally inefficient, that is, they failed to translate the preferences of a majority of the voters into policy when compared to more moderate electoral systems in other democracies. The Israeli and Italian electoral systems were found to be extremely hyperrepresentative, while that of New Zealand was extremely pluralitarian. The Japanese system was an extremely personalized system. It should be noted that this study found other cases of extreme systems, sometimes even more extreme than these four, in which reform was not adopted. It was thus suggested that the more extremist the system is, the higher the probability for its reform, but “extremism” in itself is not sufficient to account for the adoption (or rejection) of reform. The advantage of Shugart’s approach is that many of those long-term developments that were linked to reform adoption are expressions of the ills that characterize extreme electoral systems. Corruption in Japan is linked to the personal character of its electoral system. Candidates of the same party competed each other, which made financing central while policy and ideology

240

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

were pushed aside. The price the Israeli and Italian systems paid for hyperrepresentation was expressed in an overburden of demands on the polity, which impaired governability and led to governmental misconduct, clientelism, and corruption. The problem of accountability in New Zealand can be interpreted as meaning that it had an electorally inefficient system, which increasingly failed to produce results that expressed the preferences of the majority of the citizens. It was claimed to manufacture majorities for parties with decreasing support and was extremely biased against third parties.5 In short, the definition of the systems as “extreme” can lead to a logical generalization that includes various and even contradicting phenomenon. In most cases, the politics of reform does not occur in sterile conditions when systemic considerations dominate decision-making. The final product of a successful reform attempt usually results from a political compromise that is influenced by particularistic considerations of the relevant actors. Furthermore, how these actors perceive the political consequences of reform is not always in line with political science theory and empirical findings. The case of New Zealand is quite unique in this respect. Unlike the other three cases, in New Zealand experts determined the content of reform in a relatively sterile environment. This facilitated the creation of a professional systemic linkage between long-term developments and reform content. However, even this case cannot be wholly captured from a purely systemic perspective, which points to the limitations of this approach. First, the pluralitarian system cannot take all the blame for the problem of accountability. The problem was not that a large plurality was translated into a manufactured majority, but that a small minority of several politicians and businesspeople made the most important decisions. Second, some of the problems identified were not ills of the pluralitarian system, but rather breaches of the norms of behavior expected under this system. Citizens did not enjoy the choice between two clear governing alternatives because the Governments of both parties implemented the same socioeconomic policies without prior notice to their voters. In addition, the penetration of reform into the mainstream political agenda was made possible thanks to a systemic failure—the victory of the party with the second largest plurality in two consecutive elections (1978, 1981). In all four cases, reformers identified the ills of the electoral system and used them for the sake of reform promotion. Reform coalitions were composed not only of those who diagnosed the system as problematic through using systemic concepts, but those who were convinced of such arguments. Individuals and groups with various criticisms of the political system—some connected to the ills that Shugart identified, but also some that contradicted his diagnosis—supplied crucial support for reform. Reforms were successfully promoted by coalitions of various actors that held different interests and perceptions.

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

241

THE ARENA AND THE ACTO RS

A generalization valid to all the cases is that the politics of reform occurred under conditions of relative dispersion of power among the relevant political actors. This seems to contradict the commonsense interpretation that only the concentration of power enables reform, since only the control of various potential veto points by one party can enable it to win over the vested interests of other governmental and partisan actors. It also goes against the empirical findings of a positive relationship between the size of a mandate that a politician receives and the amount of policy reform. The argument here does not negate the common sense of the politics of reform in general, but only the politics of electoral (or government system) reform in particular. The distinctive feature of the politics of electoral reform is that those whose behavior will determine the fate of reform are the ones who will be directly affected by it. The reform deals with the way they will be elected and how power in their own institutions will be distributed. It is not a decision about the fate of other institutions, or a policy decision, but one that deals directly with the decision-makers’ own positions. It is difficult enough to prevail over the vested interests of others, but prevailing over your own is counterintuitive: if you received a large mandate via a particular electoral system (e.g., manufactured majority), why would you change it? There are three major reasons why power dispersion can help in promoting electoral reform initiatives. First, it creates uncertainty, making the distinction between winners and losers in the previous system and in the reformed one less clear. The conviction that the old power equilibrium was based on can be challenged more easily. Actors hoping to maximize their interests become more open to reform initiatives, as they are unsure whether the current system supplied them with their optimal share of power and are more tempted to consider possibilities that might further empower them. This lays the groundwork for schemes to recruit wider support for reform. Second, dispersion of power facilitates cooperation between partisan and intraparty actors (such as individual MPs), and with nonparty actors who supply popular legitimacy. The sum total of political resources, and their variety, becomes larger than any party can recruit on its own. This changes the price of supporting and opposing reform. Long and short-term strategic partisan considerations have to be calculated together with the price of going against public opinion—or rather, the image of public opinion that is created by opinion polls and exploited by pressure groups. Third, a substantial dispersion of power neutralizes the relevant veto players. That is, no single actor has the ability to block reform on his or her own. This leaves more room for maneuvers in building reform coalitions. If this is the case, then it could be linked to the notion that reform is more likely in times of “crisis,” which may lead to, or even be expressed by, the breakup of the old power equilibrium.

242

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

New Zealand At the time of reform, power was highly concentrated in New Zealand, which led scholars to describe the regime as an “elected dictatorship.” Electoral reform was actually aimed at dispersing power, taking some of it away from the two large parties that, thanks to the majoritarian system, could continue to abuse their mandates as their electoral support constantly decreased. The adoption of reform resulted from the two large parties losing control over its content (which was largely determined by the Royal Commission) and its fate (determined by two referendums, which gave pressure groups and the people the power to decide). Thus, while power was extremely concentrated in the general political arena, the struggle over electoral reform took place in a separate arena, one in which power was dispersed among various actors. In the politics of reform in New Zealand, no single actor controlled the whole process. A majority of politicians opposed reform, but nevertheless contributed to its promotion. The Labor Government contributed its share by establishing the Royal Commission to investigate the regime structure; the National Party did so by keeping its promise (originally the unfulfilled promise of Labor) to conduct a referendum on reform. In the atmosphere of alienation toward politicians, their expression of opposition to reform was a double-edged sword because it only increased public support for it. A small group of politicians intentionally contributed to reform promotion. Prominent among them was a scholar of constitutional law, David Palmer, who had a soaring career in Labor. At the time that he was an MP in the opposition, he succeeded in adding his initiative for the establishment of a Royal Commission to the Labor election platform. Later, as Minister of Justice, he established the commission, influenced its composition, and gave it a wide mandate. Afterward, as a deputy of the PM, Palmer exploited the PM’s unplanned public expression of support in a referendum on reform in 1987 in order to put the issue back on the agenda. Unlike in other cases, experts played a central role in New Zealand. The group of experts who composed the Royal Commission succeeded in reaching consensus on a reform package. They gave reform and its contents an aura of professional, nonpartisan legitimacy, which was especially important for recruiting public support in the antipolitical atmosphere of the time. The public, critical of the behavior of politicians, was mainly interested in change and supported reform to express protest and punish politicians. Perceiving that nothing worse could happen, the public did not fear the consequences of reform (Castels, 1994; Goff, 1993; Ingle, 1995; Mackerras, 1994). Pressure groups also played a pivotal role in New Zealand. One central group was the Electoral Reform Campaign, established in 1986, that became active immediately after the Royal Commission published its recommendations. The group took an issue that was previously identified with relatively

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

243

marginal forces and recruited support to help keep reform on the political agenda and turn it into one that politicians saw as electorally feasible. The Electoral Reform Campaign was also the leading force of the pre-referendum campaigns of 1992 and 1993. The Campaign for Better Government was an antireform interest group. It was established only toward the 1993 referendum, and called for the preservation of the SMD system. This group had a financial advantage—it was estimated to have outspent the Electoral Reform Campaign by about a nine to one ratio. Its campaign was effective, which was evident from the decrease in support for reform—from 84.7 percent (70 percent in the MMP version) in the 1992 referendum to 53.9 percent in the 1993 referendum. Yet the Campaign for Better Government became active too late. Its affiliation with the business elite who opposed reform gave it the financial advantage, but damaged its image and turned the struggle, at a certain level, into a conflict between capitalists and workers.6 Another actor in these campaigns was an independent panel, funded by the state, whose role was to supply information to the public. Its position as a neutral actor offering balanced information on electoral systems contributed to reform promotion: first, in presenting the existing system as equal to its alternatives; second, by investing large sums that helped to balance the huge gap in spending between reformers and opponents in the 1993 referendum campaign. Italy In Italy, it was not only the case that reform progressed via the alternative channel of referendums—which incorporated pressure groups and the public into the arena—but at the same time the party system was destabilized and experienced a wholesale realignment process. Other governmental actors joined the scene as well: the investigating judges who exposed the abuses of the system and reinforced its decreased legitimacy, along with the president who actively supported reform. The leaders of the reformist camp in Italy were politicians from various parties. Prominent among them was Mario Segni, a Christian Democrat MP. This group organized the collection of signatures needed to conduct the two referendums in which huge majorities supported reform. The Italian parliament abided by the results of the referendums in formulating the specific content of the reform, and thus adopted a mixed member majoritarian system. At the same time, MPs tried to engineer the system in order to minimize damage to the governing parties. The public played a central role in promoting reform. Not only did huge majorities support reform, but a large percentage of citizens participated in the referendums—much more than the 50 percent turnout needed to make the results valid. The public did not decide the specific features of reform,

244

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

because Italian referendums only allow for erasing laws or articles within them. In 1991, the personal preferential vote was cancelled in the name of fighting corruption; in 1993, the elimination of an article made the Senate’s electoral system a mixed system, in which 75 percent of the seats were to be elected in SMDs. The public coerced politicians into reforming the system and also indicated its general (majoritarian) direction. The public also played an important role in sending messages of dissatisfaction to politicians through its patterns of behavior in general elections and through local elections conducted at the time of reform promotion. Continued decrease in support for the governing parties pushed them to support the popular reform in order to demonstrate responsiveness to public demands. The increase in support for renewed forces (the Communist Party) and new forces (the Northern League) at the beginning of the 1990s made majoritarianism more appealing. The Italian president—a symbolic figure according to convention, though not by law—played an active role in the politics of reform. President Cossiga presented himself as a representative of the common person and tried to promote the adoption of a presidential regime. His eccentric behavior, as well as his extensive use of his veto power on legislation, drew opposition to his initiative. His conflict with members of Congress finally led to his resignation and replacement. Nevertheless, his behavior indirectly (and negatively) contributed to an increase in support for electoral reform because he made it preferable to government system reform (Sala, 1993). The investigating judges’ exposure of the scope of political corruption enabled reformers to increase the appeal of reform and decreased the ability of the governing parties to oppose the popular initiative. The Constitutional Court, on the other hand, played a conservative role when it decided that some versions of electoral reform would not be part of the 1991 referendum. But in the face of the results of the 1991 referendum and the pressures for reform, the Court demonstrated more flexibility in the 1993 referendum, and opened the way for the promotion of substantial electoral reform through the referendum. Japan The parliamentary arena—intraparty and interparty—was the major playing field of the politics of reform in Japan; it was in this arena that the relevant developments of power dispersion occurred. These were expressed by partisan realignment, especially in terms of the LDP’s loss of both its majority in the lower chamber and its governing position for the first time since it was established. In addition, the LDP was torn from within more than ever before, when factional conflicts intensified and the rift between the new and old guards substantially widened. Some reform initiatives raised in Japan in 1989–1993 were suggested by committees nominated by the PMs from the LDP, while others were proposed

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

245

by various factions within LDP and by other parties. The version of reform that was finally adopted, however, resulted from a compromise between the LDP and the small right-wing parties. The committees previously mentioned (which also included politicians) were the only domains in which (some) extraparliamentary actors were involved in the politics of reform. The public played a secondary role in the Japanese case. Election results sent messages of dissatisfaction to the politicians—but on a much more modest scale than that of the Italian voters—and public support for reform was apparent from opinion polls. Reformers within parliament used these messages to legitimize repeated attempts to promote their initiatives. Israel It was shown that in Israel electoral reform progressed further in later years, when power was more dispersed, and government system reform was adopted when power dispersion reached a new peak. Pressure groups and Israeli MKs—at the beginning of the move toward reform, mainly as individuals and not as party representatives—were the most prominent and persistent actors in the politics of reform at the beginning of the 1990s. Pressure groups contributed to reform promotion by sustaining extraparliamentary “popular” pressure for it, while MKs determined the content of reform. At certain times (especially during the Stinky Trick), public opinion, the president, and other actors played a prominent role in reform promotion. As in the Italian case, the judiciary served to validate claims of government misconduct. The Role of Different Actors in the Different Settings Similar actors had different levels and types of influence in promoting reform in the different cases. The definition of the major actors was, to a great extent, dictated by the specific procedures for reform promotion in each case. The use of the referendum device in New Zealand and Italy gave the public a direct role in the politics of reform. In Israel and Japan, the role of the public was limited to creating pressure that could be mobilized for reform promotion. In all cases, only a small core of politicians invested much effort in promoting reform, while others in the parliament, the Government, and the parties tended to either reject it (especially in earlier stages) or ignore it as much as possible. Many joined reform promotion in its late stages after being convinced that it would be a worthwhile investment. Pressure groups played an important role in keeping reform on the agenda, in recruiting support for it among politicians and elites, and in actively “representing” the public. The mass media played no prominent independent role, but nevertheless contributed to reform promotion through performing its routine roles: discussing the issue that was put on the agenda through the efforts of politicians and interest groups, and, especially, covering newsworthy events that reformers

246

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

took care to link to the necessity for reform. The Israeli and Italian presidents contributed to reform promotion by acting as though they were nonpartisan spokespersons of the public. Unlike the other cases, in which experts were, at best, used to give professional legitimacy to the argument for reform or against it, in New Zealand experts played the central role of determining the content of reform in the framework of the Royal Commission. A correlation exists between the amount of control that politicians had over the promotion of reform and the amount of (perceived) change involved in each case. The greater the role of MPs was in determining the content of reform, the smaller the perceived amount of change.7 When the influence of MPs was limited, and when that of extraparliamentary actors was relatively high, the perceived amount of change was greater. In New Zealand—where the politicians lost control over reform promotion at its beginning—reform involved a complete transformation from a majoritarian to a PR system. The content of reform was decided by the Royal Commission, while its adoption was determined in two referendums: the first that decided on the MMP version over three other versions of reform and the existing system; the second that decided on MMP over the existing system. In Italy, the public was less influential than in New Zealand because the scope of the referendum device was limited to the repeal of existing laws. The results of the referendums compelled the legislators to adopt reform and also gave it its majoritarian features. Nevertheless, the legislators still had enough freedom to do some “damage control.” Not only did they preserve PR for a quarter of the seats, but they also enabled small parties to survive through joining multiparty alliances and adopting a two-ballot system for elections to the lower house. In Israel, direct election for the PM was found to be more consequential than expected from the proposed moderate versions of electoral reform. This observation, however, is in retrospect. At the time of reform promotion, direct election was presented as a smaller change that would influence only the election of the PM. Extraparliamentary forces were crucial in increasing the general pressure for reform and played a role in defining a menu of choices from which MKs could select their preferred alternative. The MKs controlled the content of reform, and they were the ones who decided to abandon electoral reform and invest efforts in promoting (the seemingly less consequential) government system reform. In the Japanese case, the politics of reform occurred almost exclusively in the partisan and parliamentary arenas, which explains why proposals that entailed substantial change in proportionality were rejected and why the reform that was adopted was expected to preserve the distribution of power among the competing parties. Reform substantially changed what seemed to be the core problem of personal politics: competition among the candidates of the same party in general elections in the former single non-transferable vote electoral system.

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

247

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ADOPTED REFO RMS: MULTIFACETED MIXED MEMBER SYSTEMS

With all the differences between the adopted reforms, they can all be seen as belonging to the category of mixed member electoral systems, systems that combine SMD with list PR (Shugart & Wattenberg, 2001b). In the Israeli case, the mix was not only of electoral systems, but also of government systems: of parliamentarism and presidentialism. By preserving old and familiar elements, the mixed alternative becomes a comfortable platform for negotiation and compromise. It eased fears of overly radical reform and an excessively harsh threat to the vested interests of the incumbents and established parties. In three cases, the reform formula was mainly a product of political compromise. In the Japanese case, it was a product of compromise between the LDP and several smaller parties. It included two parallel systems: SMDs, which mainly the LDP was expected to enjoy, and a PR system, which was supposed to ensure the representation of the smaller parties. The combination of the will to create a two-party system, on the one hand, and the fear that majoritarianism would lead to a huge manufactured majority for the LDP, on the other, stood at the basis of the compromise. The Israeli reform—direct election of the PM—mixed parliamentary and presidential elements. From its beginning, the reform formula was a product of compromises. Political dynamics led to adopting a formula that seemed to enhance the power of the Knesset, compared to most earlier versions of reform. In Italy, the goals that various pro-reform forces attributed to electoral reform were different from each other and even contradictory: on the one hand, increasing governability through manufacturing a clear stable majority, and ensuring that Government changes hands through the creation of a twoparty system; on the other hand, the weakening of parties and an increase in the accountability of individual MPs.8 The mixed system that was adopted in 1993 was a compromise between politicians who proposed a variety of reforms, some calling for more proportionality than would be expected from the system that was adopted, and some calling for the adoption of majoritarian system or even a pluralitarian one. The old governing parties formulated a mixed formula that reflected the majoritarianism dictated by the 1993 referendum, yet ensured the survival of small parties. The case of New Zealand was different. Reform was mainly the product of an attempt to find the optimal balance between a set of ten criteria that were set by the Royal Commission to guide its recommendations. The mixed system was presented as an optimal compromise between various kinds of representation and the effectiveness of government. However, the commission did not ignore popular considerations and consciously preserved the element

248

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

of constituency representation through SMDs, seeing it as an important foundation for New Zealand’s politics and an element that would give reform a better chance to achieve public support (Boston, 1987; Boston, Levine, McLeay, & Roberts, 1996; McLeay, 1987).9 Thus, even in this case, it can be argued that the influence of anticipated reactions brought about a compromise version. Both compromises between “interests” and between “values” led to adopting mixed systems. The mix signifies an attempt to preserve the old and familiar and to combine it with the innovative element embedded in reform. The maintenance of old elements was seen (and justified) to reflect the preservation of certain values that were perceived to be rooted in each country’s political tradition, the preservation of systemic components that fit the structure of society, and especially the preservation of a safe sphere for incumbent parties and politicians. The innovation was presented (and perceived) as an attempt to incorporate additional elements that were lacking in the old system, with the aims of improving the functioning of the political system and satisfying the demands for reform. On the systemic level, the mix signified the desire to enjoy the best of both worlds, old and new, majoritarian and proportional, personal and partisan. Shugart and Wattenberg (2001b) argue that mixed systems indeed combine the best of both worlds. A right balance among majoritarian and proportional, and partisan and personal elements, they argue, will lead to the optimization of the product of elections (“electoral efficiency”), to enjoying “the best of both worlds.” In the interparty sphere, it results in a relatively stable Government and a clear choice for voters between two governing alternatives, characteristic of majoriatarian systems, and fair representation of small parties together with the establishment of a Government that enjoys the support of the majority of voters, characteristic of PR systems. The expression of these would be the development of a multiparty system in which each party will belong to one of two camps between which the voters will decide. In the intraparty dimension, a balance will exist between local representation and personal accountability, which characterizes personal voting, and programmatic representation by national, cohesive, and disciplined parties. The expression for this would be the development of a system of national, disciplined parties whose representatives are responsive to local interests. From this perspective, the replacement of “extreme” systems by mixed systems is seen as an improvement.10 Are the systemic pressures for a reform that would produce “electoral efficiency” expected to lead to the same end results as the consequences of the interactions among groups and individuals with different perceptions and interests? Do the politics of reform, which are not mainly motivated by system-oriented motivations, nevertheless lead to optimal results? These are the expectations. The two compromises—between political forces with various

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

249

interests and perceptions and between systemic pressures—are in the same direction, that of adopting a mixed system. However, it is possible that the two will not meet, that reform will have unintended consequences. This happened in Israel, where the reforms that were adopted substituted electoral reform with a patch on the existing hyperrepresentative and hypercentralized (partisan) system. Majoritarianism was adopted at the top, through direct election of the PM, and a personal element was adopted at the bottom, in the largest parties, through adopting party primaries. The combination of these two elements with the existing system was substantially different from an ideal mixed system that produces optimal consequences (Hazan & Rahat, 2000). In the other cases there are also elements that were preserved or adopted that are not typical characteristics of a mixed system.11 THE PATHS OF THE REFO RM PROMOTION PRO CESSES

In New Zealand, politicians lost control of the reform agenda at an early stage. Reform penetrated the decision-makers’ agenda thanks to the success of its supporters, a minority within Labor, in promising the establishment of a royal commission to examine the regime structure within the party election platform (though, in no sense, did they gain a partisan commitment for reform itself). After Labor’s victory in the 1984 elections, this minority ensured that the promise would be fulfilled, which resulted in transferring the issue of reform from those with vested interests in the system to experts whose major concern was with systemic considerations. This move substantially influenced the future of reform because it supplied a nonpartisan, professional aura of legitimacy for the demand for reform, for the version of reform proposed by the commission, and for the use of the referendum device to decide its fate. After the Royal Commission finished its work and made its recommendations public, it appeared that the issue would be pushed off the agenda and that, even if it reached a referendum, it would be rejected, as neither large party wanted it (Boston, 1987; Lijphart, 1987). But the issue survived thanks to the actions of the pro-reform pressure group and, more important, as a result of the miscalculated behavior of politicians. The MPs attempted to delay and neutralize reform. A parliamentary committee was established to reexamine the recommendation of the Royal Commission. Its work contributed to delaying reform because its recommendations were published only after the 1987 elections, thus closing a potential window of opportunity to promote reform. The parliamentary committee rejected the recommendations of the Royal Commission and proposed adopting a more moderate version of reform. This could have created a split between supporters of the two versions of reform if the status of politicians at the time had not been so low. But these moves—the fact that reform was deliberated and the blocking of

250

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

private members’ electoral reform bills—kept the issue on the agenda. The lack of agreement in parliament made it impossible to neutralize the Royal Commission’s recommended reform through the adoption of a more moderate (or even a minor) reform. At the same time, the promise to conduct a referendum on electoral reform became an issue in the electoral competition between the two large parties. Labor’s failure to fulfill its leader’s impromptu promise in the 1987 campaign to conduct a referendum on reform was used by the National Party to criticize Labor for being untrue to its promises. After the National Party won the 1990 elections, it had to show its ability to fulfill promises, so it conducted the two referendums on reform. Politicians relinquished their control over the fate of reform. They did, however, attempt to influence the results of the referendum through setting its rules of conduct. Instead of pitting the Royal Commission’s recommended system against the existing system, it was decided to conduct an indicative referendum. Citizens were asked to choose first between reform and preservation, and second between four reform alternatives. This gave an added opportunity to reject reform, or at least to split the support of reformers among the various options. However, a huge majority (84.7 percent) supported reform, and the Royal Commission’s version of reform won the support of 70 percent of the voters. This clear-cut result was a product of general protest against the government, the politicians, and the political system. It was expressed and facilitated through a campaign in which an extraparliamentary pressure group led the proreform camp, while the unpopular politicians stood as the major opponents. Following the results of the 1992 referendum, it was decided that another referendum, one that offered a choice between the current SMD system and the proposed MMP system, would be conducted together with the 1993 general elections. This time, reform opponents organized an effective and well-funded campaign that was led by an extraparliamentary group. This group attempted to lessen the appeal of reform through focusing on two of its elements: the adoption of a closed-list system for electing MPs from the national pool, which was expected to empower the unpopular parties, and an increase in the number of MPs—a recommendation that the Royal Commission did not originally link to electoral reform—which was expected to raise opposition due to the unpopularity of politicians. Opponents also (unsuccessfully) demanded that the adoption of reform require the support of an absolute majority. The results of the second referendum were, by far, closer than in the former indicative referendum, but reformers still had the upper hand, with 53.9 percent of the voters supporting reform and only 46.1 percent rejecting it. In Japan, the politics of reform looked like a repeated attempt to break through a door until it finally opened. The parliamentary arena was central in the Japanese case. Reformers exploited events—elections and the exposing of the corruption scandals—to sustain the issue on the parliamentary

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

251

agenda. The attempts to agree on a version in the 1989–1993 period failed, and all proposals—including some suggested by LDP PMs—were rejected. Only after the LDP lost its majority in the 1993 elections, and after the defectors from the LDP and other parties established a governing coalition that did not include the LDP, was the ground ready for a more successful move. The rationale of the governing coalition was the passage of reform, and indeed it succeeded in passing it through the lower chamber. However, it was rejected in the upper chamber—which was of a different composition—by the representatives of the LDP and some of the Socialist representatives. To overcome this barrier, reformers from the smaller party turned to cooperate with the LDP, and at the beginning of 1994 they finally succeeded in passing a compromise version of reform in both chambers. In Italy, reform progressed in a continuously growing rhythm that was parallel to the escalating rhythm of the realignment of parties and voters. Already in the 1980s, prominent politicians from the governing parties—the core of the political system—raised reform initiatives.12 It was at the beginning of the 1990s, however, when the snowball started to roll faster. After failing to agree on a version of reform in the parliament, a group of politicians decided to turn to the referendum device to coerce the parliament to adopt reform. The constitutional court allowed only the smaller scale issue of preferential vote in the 1991 referendum and disqualified the proposal of Senate electoral reform as an issue for the citizens’ decision. The move was nevertheless important for reform promotion. First, it signified a precedent for the use of the referendum device on the issue of institutional reform. Until then, seventeen referendums, conducted at six different times, dealt with social issues. Second, it was a successful pretest of the effectiveness of a clear-cut popular and majoritarian tool. The influence of public opinion was already evident in the pre-referendum campaign. Support for reform was vocal, while a few dared to take a strong stance against it. Finally, the referendum signified a move toward a new stage, one in which politicians could no longer ignore the cry for reform since it won the support of 95.6 percent of the voters. Following the 1991 referendum, a bicameral committee whose goal was to formulate a compromise version of reform was established. Its failure to achieve its mission led reformers to return to the referendum device in 1993. This time, the constitutional court allowed putting the question of Senate electoral reform on the referendum. Events that preceded the 1993 referendum helped in sustaining and further magnifying the strong popular reformist trend that was already apparent in the 1991 referendum. Although the 1992 elections maintained the old governing coalition, for the first time it won the support of less than a majority of the voters. The governing parties were defeated even worse in the local elections conducted in 1992 and at the beginning of 1993. These results signified the public’s desire for change and the urgent need to respond to it yet made it clear to the governing parties

252

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

that majoritarianism was a threat to them and that they should somehow reach an electoral reform formula that will control the anticipated damage. The investigations into political corruption that started in 1992 also supported the pressures for reform. Thus, as the 1993 referendum approached, the governing parties and also the Social Democratic Party (established by the moderate faction of the Communist Party) expressed support for reform. Rejection came from the extremes, from the Communist Renovation (the party established by the orthodox faction of the Communist Party) on the left, and from the neo-Fascists on the right. A relatively high percentage of voters participated in the referendum (77 percent). All reforms that were proposed in the referendum won majority support, among them electoral reform that enjoyed the support of 87 percent of voters. The result of the referendum determined that the elections for 75 percent of the senate seats would be conducted through SMDs. Because the Italian Government is dependent on the confidence of both chambers, it is crucial that that they be elected by similar systems. Thus parliament was coerced to formulate a compromise version of reform that would synchronize elections to both chambers. In August 1993, electoral reform legislation was adopted, mixing majoritarianism with various elements that were intended to ensure the survival of smaller parties.13 In each of these cases, reform progressed in a significantly different path. In Israel, the first stage was about penetrating the decision-makers’ agenda and waiting. The second stage, in which reform won initial approval, started without much notice and continued with the successful exploitation of public protest to recruit the votes of the MPs from the core of the system for “change.” In the third stage, the major struggle was for survival, not progress. In the final stage, it was a struggle to recruit majority support for a specific version of reform. The path of reform progress in New Zealand was quite similar, but with one essential difference—the second stage was not that of initial ratification in parliament, but one in which experts were given the power to formulate reform in the relatively sterile environment of the Royal Commission. In Italy, as time passed, the rhythm of the progress of reform intensified more and more, snowballing from the beginning of the 1990s and leading to a dramatic realignment among voters and parties and to the establishment of the “New Italian Republic” (Gundle & Parker, 1996). In Japan, repeated attempts to pass reform in 1989–1993 failed. The door was open for its adoption only after the (relatively) dramatic results of the 1993 elections. THE BARRIERS TO REFO RM IN A CROSS-NATIONAL COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE

Differences between the political systems in general, and between the procedures for reform legislation in particular, resulted in differences in the signif-

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

253

icance and weight of the various barriers in each country. For example, coalition politics were a crucial barrier to reform in Israel’s consensual regime, but were irrelevant in the case of New Zealand’s Westminster regime. The Procedural Barrier Procedures constrained the reformers’ moves, but also supplied them with opportunities. They dictated, to a large extent, the path of the reform process in each case, and also influenced the roles the various actors played in the process (as a whole or in certain parts). When the referendum device was available (in Italy and New Zealand), a minority of politicians, with the help of pressure groups and public opinion, could persuade legislatures to adopt reform. In the case of New Zealand, politicians failed to block the referendum path—which the Royal Commission recommended—because immediate electoral calculations tempted them to use the promise to hold a referendum as a tool in the interparty struggle. Yet politicians still attempted to defeat reform through manipulating the rules for the referendums. The attempt to divide the reform camp by offering numerous reform options in the indicative referendum failed because reformers focused on a single version of reform, the one that the Royal Commission suggested and legitimized. The closing of the large gap between support and rejection of reform leading up to the decisive referendum indicates that conducting two referendums was indeed a wise (although insufficient) move in the attempt to defeat reform. Beyond that, the government played a “fair game” and helped reformers make their case when it ran a balanced, informative campaign about the alternatives presented at the referendums. This especially helped balance the financial shortfalls of the pro-reform campaign before the 1993 decisive referendum. In Italy, the two referendums did not determine the specifics of reform, but were effectively used to push politicians to compromise on a version of reform so they could not hide behind disagreements over content. The use of the referendum device as an antihegemonic tool was successful, and reform was carried on the waves of protest in both New Zealand and Italy.14 When the only available path to promote reform was the parliamentary one, the role of extraparliamentary actors was limited to pressuring for change. In these cases, the legislatures determined content, positively by promoting a specific proposal and negatively by rejecting others. In Japan, the use of events (corruption scandals) enabled reformers to repeatedly revive the initiatives for reform in the face of parliamentary maneuvers that aimed to freeze reform legislation and push it off of the agenda. The existence of two chambers with different partisan compositions was also an obstacle, since reform required the support of two different majorities, while the rejection of a single majority was sufficient to preserve the status quo. Reformers overcame this obstacle only

254

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

after parties from both the coalition and the opposition joined forces in support of reform. In Israel, the Basic Law: The Government could be amended by a plurality, so it was easier to reform the government system than the electoral system. That is, in the case of government system reform, reformers could enjoy absences and abstentions as much as their opponents did. Both sides in the struggle over reform used various procedural opportunities to speed up or block reform legislation. Although reformers did suffer from such delays, they sometimes proved a double-edged sword for their opponents. For example, the optimal timing (from the reformers’ perspective) of the final attempt at the second and third readings of the Government reform bill (on the eve of elections) resulted from the opponents’ success in returning the bill to the CLJC during the first attempt at a second reading. Scholars of political change who focus on nondemocratic countries or non-established democracies can reasonably perceive procedures as a marginal barrier to reform. But in an established democracy, which is by definition characterized by the rule of law, the path of reform promotion is dictated by the rules of the game—laws, regulations, and conventions. The procedures defined the opportunities for the reformers, as well as the veto points for their opponents. In essence, the procedural barrier is a delaying factor. Overcoming procedural delays requires persistence from the hard core of reformers, otherwise delay (or accumulated delays) at those times when reform is not high on the agenda—when soft supporters are likely to defect from the battle—will lead to the burial of reform. Political Tradition Political tradition did not pose a difficult challenge to reform promotion. First, reformers exploited those times when tradition was not perceived as a strong asset for reform opponents, when the past did not look ideal. Windows of opportunity opened when strong bursts of dissatisfaction with the functioning of the political system occurred, as a backlash to events like the Stinky Trick in Israel or the exposure of the corruption scandals in Italy and Japan. Second, the mixed versions of reforms included old elements that were intended to indicate sensitivity to political tradition. Third, changes in local political cultures over time and exposure to external influences sometimes eased the adoption of those elements of reform that originated in other political cultures. Fourth, the democratic traditions of Italy, Japan, and Israel (but not of New Zealand) were new in comparison to other established democracies. New Zealand deviated from the Anglo-Saxon tradition when it chose a PR system more similar to the “German” MMP system than to the STV system (Mackerras, 1994). Jackson and McRobie (1998) claimed that the

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

255

reform moves occurred at times of change in the domestic political culture, namely, the weakening of the link with Britain and the search for an independent identity that included pluralism, multiculturalism, and an openness toward the Maori culture. At the same time, reform did not signify a complete disengagement with the Anglo-Saxon and local traditions. Elements such as the SMDs and the separate representation for the Maoris were preserved. Italy moved toward majoritarianism, which can be seen as alien to the Continental tradition (except for France) since the beginning of the twentieth century. The “domestic” alternative of giving a “bonus” to those who won a plurality (adopted by Mussolini in the 1920s and also temporarily in the 1950s) was adopted only at the local level. In the cold war era, existing democratic institutions were seen as almost sacred in the face of the threatening alternatives of the Fascist past and the existing large Communist Party. The demise of Fascism and the weakening and changing of character of the communist alternative led to the end of the perception that the existing democratic order was a necessary evil. However, even when there was some momentum to break with the past, elements of PR were preserved. In the 1990s, Japan abandoned the unique electoral system it had used even prior to the Second World War, and replaced it with a system more similar to those in other democracies. A political tradition of stability and continuity had developed in Japan since the Second World War. Its major backer was the permanent governing party, the LDP. As long as the economic miracle continued and the LDP seemed, with all its faults, a bulwark against the communist threat, there were good reasons to defend the status quo. With the increase in the intensity of intraparty tensions and in the exposure of political corruption, the end of the cold war, and the first signs of problems in the economy, tradition lost much of its appeal. In adopting direct majoritarian elections for the PM, Israel deviated from the tradition of parliamentarism and PR that originated in the pre-state period. Yet, PR—the core of its inclusive political tradition—was preserved. The electoral system for the Knesset remained intact, and the innovative majoritarian element was grafted onto it. Israel also preserved some parliamentary elements, prominent among them the requirement of a vote of investiture for each new Government, and the preservation of the ability of the Knesset to oust the Government in a vote of no confidence. In cases when politicians had substantial influence in the formulation of reform (Italy, Japan, Israel), it is easy to perceive that vested interests, rather than political tradition and culture, influenced its content. The case of New Zealand—where a committee of experts proposed the most radical reform of the four cases, and vested interests were isolated—demonstrates that sensitivity toward political culture and tradition can be more than just rhetoric in terms of blocking reform or justifying its mixed nature.

256

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

Regime Structure as a Rational Systemic Settlement The issue of whether the proposed reform was suited to the given structure of society was a relatively easy barrier to overcome. As in the case of political tradition, it was sufficient to market reform with a combination of sensitivity to the issue and promises of improved functioning of the system. Many times, both reformers and opponents recruited experts to legitimize their claims, framing the debate as systemic rather than focusing on narrow personal, factional, or partisan interests. Often, reform was promoted by forces that held different, sometimes contradicting, perceptions of the problems of the existing order as well as the anticipated effect of reform. In New Zealand, experts used various arguments in support of reform. There were those who claimed that majoritarianism no longer suited their society, since the abandonment of the assimilation approach had been replaced by a multicultural approach, which required adopting a more representative device such as a PR electoral system (Jackson, 1994). Some claimed that majoritarianism worked as long as those elected made use of its advantage—accountability expressed through the fulfilling of campaign promises (Denemark, 2001; Mulgan, 1995). Others put less emphasis on the behavior of politicians and developments in politics and society and saw the system itself as guilty of encouraging the formation of an “elected dictatorship” (Lijphart, 1987; McLeay, 1987).15 In Italy, the demand to adopt a more majoritarian system—which would improve governability and accountability and facilitate the creation of a governmental alternative—seemed more reasonable after the decline of ideology and the secularization of society weakened the justifications for PR. Yet the ills that reform was supposed to cure were not necessarily the products of the electoral system, but rather the influences of the cold war, which ended before electoral reform was adopted. Furthermore, the adoption of a majoritarian system that strengthened the regional cleavages—through rewarding regional parties and emphasizing distinct patterns of regional voting—was problematic in the Italian context. Several versions of electoral reform proposals, and numerous additional reforms in the regime structure and the political institutions, were proposed as solutions to the various problems that different political actors attributed to the Italian polity (Pasquino, 1989). There were contradictions between even the main goals of the electoral reform that was adopted. For example, some claimed it would increase MPs’ personal accountability, while others argued it would improve governability. In Japan, reformers saw the end of the cold war as an opportunity to replace the dominant party system with a two-party system. Most hoped for a system of two conservative parties, which would maintain stable policies and at the same time keep checks on the Government due to the possibility of turnover. The repeal of the single non-transferable vote system was consid-

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

257

ered crucial because of the link made between its nature—the fact that candidates from the same party competed with each other—and the centrality of capital in electoral politics, which led to high levels of political corruption. The compromise version of reform that was adopted allowed small parties to survive, and thus the goal of creating a two-party system could not be fulfilled. It was, however, expected to cure corruption by putting an end to competition between the same party’s candidates in the districts, together with the reform of party finance laws. In short, reform in Japan, as well as in Italy and Israel, cannot be seen as a well-crafted product of institutional engineering, but as the outcome of a compromise between forces with particular interests. This still allows reform to be represented as promoting noble systemic aims—and it can even partially serve to fulfill the systemic aims related to it—but it would be naïve to describe the motive for its adoption as a result of such noble goals. Vested Interests How did reformers overcome the tendency of MPs, factions, and parties to prefer the existing system—the system that enabled them to be the ones holding the keys to reform of the regime structure? They did it in three major ways. First, they bypassed the legislatures (or threatened to do so). In New Zealand, politicians lost control over the reform process as a result of their miscalculations. The Royal Commission determined the content of reform, and the people were given the power to decide its fate through a referendum, both of which decreased the influence of partisan and other group interests.16 The politicians’ rejection of reform was more firm and clear in New Zealand than in the other cases, which reflected the large rewards of the system they sought to preserve.17 The pluralitarian system supplies the largest party with an especially large bonus. It usually transforms pluralities into a majority of seats (manufactured majority), and enables the establishment of a single party (noncoalition) Government. When Government turnovers occur— and one party does not govern continuously for many years in a row—the two large parties share a strong common interest in preserving their duopoly in Government and parliament.18 Thus, it is no coincidence that electoral reform in an established democracy with a pluralitarian system was adopted through a referendum, against the will of most of the politicians.19 In contrast, large parties in countries with PR systems could become interested in adopting majoritarian features that might decrease their dependence on small parties and increase their representation in parliament. Even small centrist parties might support reform, hoping that the expected centripetal pressures will reward them—either by making them an independent pivotal party (in case of a moderate reform) or a crucial element within a

258

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

large party or a party alliance. In Italy, the parties of the governing coalition have had a relatively strong vested interest in PR because they feared that a more majoritarian system would strengthen the large Communist Party, which was perceived as an antisystem party. After the Communist Party was no longer considered an antisystem party, various forces, including politicians from within the government, initiated different reforms aimed at improving (or preserving) their status within the changing political context. Reform was thus already on the agenda, and the referendums—initiated by a small group of politicians—were a device to coerce politicians to agree on a reform proposal. In Israel, the threat that the formulation of reform would be exploited from the Knesset at the time of the Stinky Trick pressured MKs to support the reform bills to demonstrate their will and ability to fix the system. Second, reformers made reform an issue that influenced (or seem to influence) public opinion toward parties and politicians, creating an electoral interest in promoting or supporting reform—or at least in not investing much in blocking it.20 The pressure to act according to electoral considerations was sometimes stronger than the anticipated costs that politicians and parties attributed to the implementation of reform. In New Zealand, at no stage was there a pro-reform majority in parliament. Politicians nevertheless promoted reform: they introduced it into the political system, promised to put it to a referendum, and finally fulfilled the promise. All these steps essentially resulted from electoral considerations. In Israel, the influence of electoral considerations was especially apparent in the March 1992 second and third readings of the direct election bill. The vote was conducted on the eve of the elections and Likud—who did its best to block reform two months earlier—fearing the reaction of voters, refrained from imposing party discipline. In Japan, electoral considerations helped keep the issue on the agenda, with repeated reform initiatives. Reform passed with the influence of the results of the 1993 elections, which were interpreted as a vote for reform. In Italy, the 1991 referendum, as well as results of local and national elections, made support for reform look more and more like an electoral imperative. Even the governing parties, who feared reform because of their anticipated electoral decline, realized that they must demonstrate support for the popular initiatives. Third, developments at the time of the reform process increased uncertainty about the anticipated impact of reform on the fate of specific parties, factions, and politicians. This vagueness was good for reform promotion because it made the immediate reward of supporting a popular measure more appealing than an uncertain future. Moreover, uncertainty enabled reformers to convince many MPs that they would be rewarded from the reform itself or at least would pay a lower price than that of rejecting the popular initiative. Furthermore, this made room for marketing different and even contradictory versions of the consequences of reform. Italy in 1989–1993 was surely a place

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

259

of wide uncertainty, when both parties and voters realigned. The way reformers used the high level of uncertainty as to the consequences of direct election in Israel also illustrates this point. In Japan, the time when reform was finally adopted (1993–1994) was characterized by great uncertainty resulting from a realignment in the party system, which included defections, new patterns of cooperation, and the establishment of new parties. In such an unstable situation, actors’ preferences were also unstable because it was unclear how reform would influence their political fate. At certain times in Italy and Japan a majority seemed to anticipate that reform would bear rewards. It appeared as though uncertainty decreased and was replaced by new calculations that fit the new power structure created after a partisan realignment. Actually, the uncertainty was still there, and what characterized these times was the clustering of MPs around a successfully marketed anchor—a more or less common version of the future influence of reform on their power. In Japan, prior to 1994, the governing LDP proposed majoritarian reform initiatives that were expected to reward it as the largest party. But senior politicians within the LDP—and younger ones, whose political fate was dependent on them—rejected and blocked these initiatives, fearing a loss of their established networks of personal support that were created in the framework of the multimember district system. In the 1990s, while senior politicians still ensured their reelection through their consolidated networks, their young affiliates, whose success was dependent on the support of more independent voters, were under increased threat. The corrupt practices of the veterans pushed away these voters, especially after the creation of new alternative conservative parties. In Italy, a realignment of parties and voters shook the old structure of interests. The governing parties, on their way down, became supporters of reform in an attempt to demonstrate responsiveness and stop their electoral decline, and in the hope that the proposal they formulated would give them, even as much smaller parties, a pivotal position of influence. New and renewed forces, on their way to consolidation and empowerment, also became pro-reform. The moderate faction of the Communist Party saw this as an opportunity to become a central power in Italian politics. It considered itself a more central and moderate force than its predecessor— whose extreme position enhanced its support for PR, although it was a large party—aspiring to unite the left and be seen as a governing alternative. The party supported reform in the referendums and, although it demanded a two-round majoritarian system, its MPs did not block the governing parties from passing their version of reform. The growing support for the Northern League eased its fear of a majoritarian reform and made it a supporter of a reform that would allow it to enjoy its regional concentration of votes.

260

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

A Majority for Reform; Disagreement over Its Content This barrier of conflict over the content of reform was present in all cases: sometimes it was a deliberate manipulation aimed at blocking the progress of reform, and sometimes it was part of the struggle between reformers—a game of chicken in which each stuck to his or her own version in order to force others to adopt it, or to guarantee that the compromise would be closer to it. What enabled reformers to overcome disagreements were the involvement of extraparliamentary actors—directly (through a referendum) or indirectly (electoral pressure, interest groups)—and the reformers’ own inclination to compromise. There was also the occasional failure of reform opponents to crystallize a coalition around more moderate, alternative reform initiatives. In New Zealand, opponents failed in their attempt to divide support among the four versions of reform in the indicative referendum because most supporters followed the recommendation of the Royal Commission. The failure of the MPs from the established parties to compromise by agreeing on a more moderate version of reform came at the expense of the adoption of a far more radical reform. Attempts to initiate alternative reforms came too late, in the campaign leading up to the 1993 referendum. In Italy, the debate over reform content delayed its adoption until the 1993 referendum created a new electoral system for the Senate. This new system compelled MPs to respond. First, they attempted to minimize the expected damage to themselves. Second, they felt that it was crucial to deal with the electoral system used to elect the lower chamber in order to synchronize it with that of the Senate, since the Italian Government is dependent on the confidence of both chambers. Although most Japanese MPs tended to support reform, they failed to agree on its content until 1994. Some emphasized a reform of finance laws while others demanded supplementing it with electoral reform. Disagreement also centered on the nature of electoral reform.21 This barrier was even more challenging because of the need for approval in two chambers whose composition was substantially different. Various versions of reform were rejected until reform seemed inevitable, since it was the glue that held together the new multiparty coalition government established after the 1993 elections. Yet the governing coalition failed in its attempt to pass reform, and only an agreement between some of the coalition members and the LDP allowed reform to pass. In Israel, the legislation of government system reform started with delaying the issue of consent over content, with the passage of four different versions of direct election and the additional PM government version. Later, reformers were flexible enough to agree among themselves and eventually came up with a version that won the support of a majority.

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM

261

Coalition Politics The blocking of reform by a minority in the coalition—by a party or an intraparty faction—even when reform enjoys majority support in parliament, is irrelevant in the case of New Zealand, which had one-party Governments with cohesive and disciplined parties. Accounts of the Italian case emphasize the role of disputes over reform content among parties, and not of coalition politics, in blocking the final adoption of reform until the 1993 referendum. In the case of Japan, factions within the single governing party, the LDP, blocked the reform initiatives that were proposed before the 1993 elections. Reform was adopted only after the LDP lost its majority and after the multiparty coalition, whose main aim was reform, was established. Since the early 1970s, reform in Israel was supported most of the time by a majority of MKs, and the main obstacle reformers faced was the veto of small coalition partners. At the beginning of the 1970s, it was essentially an intraparty/alliance veto and, from the mid-1970s, it was the veto of small parties in minimal winning (governing) coalitions (existing or desired). The innovative nature of direct election eased the progress of reform at the beginning of the process because most parties lacked firm stands on the issue. Later, imminent elections made coalition promises less relevant vis-à-vis electoral considerations and enabled reformers to complete their move. Main Barriers to Electoral Reform in Majoritarian and PR Systems Reform penetrated the agenda in majoritarian systems under various circumstances. This happened when voter behavior challenged the two-party structure, either through increasing support for third parties—which failed to be expressed due to the biases of the system—or when the two-party structure was actually shaken, as in the first decades of the twentieth century in Britain. It also happened after one party captured Government for a long period (e.g., the Conservative rule in Britain in 1979–1997). A third case was when the system failed to work as expected, for example, when it manufactured a majority for the party with the second highest plurality (the 1978 and 1981 elections in New Zealand). However, because of the clear advantages that majoritarianism supplied to the large parties (or successful regional parties)—which are especially apparent when they are in a position to reform the system—they did not demonstrate an interest in further promoting reform. In contrast, in most countries with PR, coalition politics (intraparty and interparty) and not vested interests per se (at least not at the party level) were a central barrier to reform. It is reasonable that most of the time a majority in parliament would be interested in pushing reform in the majoritarian direction, which would improve its representation and enhance its

262

REFORM OF REGIME STRUCTURES IN ESTABLISHED DEMOCRACIES

power within the governing coalition.22 In such systems, the windows of opportunity for promoting reform are open when coalition pressures are weakening. At those times, reform opponents invest their efforts in delaying maneuvers. Their success is influenced by the opportunities that the legislation procedures supply for both sides, by the ability (or inability) of reformers to agree on a single version of reform, and by the success (or failure) in convincing individual politicians to overcome their fears of reform threatening their reelection.

Conclusions

THE FLEXIBLE historical-comparative research framework used in this study made it possible to test the value of various theoretical approaches for the analysis of the politics of reform in the regime structures of established democracies. This concluding chapter proposes improvements for the future use of the rational choice, institutional, and historical-comparative approaches for the study of this phenomenon. It ends with a brief account of several of the main findings of the Israeli case studies and the cross-national comparison. THE RATIONAL CHOICE APPROACH

The rational choice approach—with its emphasis on parsimony and its aim of proposing ahistorical generalizations—is much better at supplying convincing explanations for the regular patterns of preservation than explaining the rare adoption of reform in the regime structures of established democracies. But while it is not advisable to study the phenomenon from a rational choice perspective exclusively, it is still a useful tool for a focused analysis of the stands and behaviors of the main actors (especially legislators) at key decision-making points along the continuous struggle over reform. The rational choice approach suggests two main interpretations of how reform happens. The first interpretation sees stability in the regime structure as implying equilibrium between the interests of the main actors in the political system. Thus, only a strong exogenous shock can be expected to lead to reform. The second interpretation claims that there is no institutional equilibrium, but rather a continuous struggle between actors over the structure of the regime, each one pushing for reforms that would maximize its power. The first interpretation appears to be far more useful because it would seem to be a better reading of a reality in which regime structure reform is a rare phenomenon— one where reform initiatives are rejected most of the time. What

263

264

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

should be challenged, nevertheless, is the claim that only a strong exogenous shock can lead to the adoption of reform. Of cases of reform in established democracies in the 1990s, only in Italy did external events play a significant role in the politics of reform. What was common to all the cases was that reform progressed thanks to a development within the political system—the dispersion of power and influence among the various actors: from the almost complete exploitation of the decision on reform and its content from politicians (the case of New Zealand) to a dispersion of power among politicians, but in a substantially different pattern than before (the case of Japan). From this perspective, reform happened not because politicians were reacting to an external shock, but because reformers exploited a situation in which no single actor was in a position to veto reform. The analysis of the Israeli case studies, and their comparison with the cases of other countries, demonstrated that the stands of politicians toward reform are often not determined exclusively (or even predominantly) by the costs and benefits of the consequences of the implementation of reform. A strong motive for supporting reform was the electoral cost attributed to its rejection and the electoral benefit attributed to supporting it. Indeed, reformers invested much effort in creating a high price tag for rejecting reform. Support for reform was sometimes even perceived to serve the interests of small parties—which were likely to be damaged by the implementation of reform— by rationalizing their separate existence, or at least by being a central element in their distinction from neighboring parties. This study identified substantial differences between the rationales for preserving majoritarian systems and those for preserving PR systems. In majoritarian systems, the successful (few) parties have a strong interest in preserving a system that provides them with valuable rewards in terms of representation and influence. Indeed, reform penetrated the political agenda of countries with majoritarian systems at times when one of the two large parties felt continuously impaired by the majoritarian system. But since the Second World War—including the case of reform in New Zealand—there has been no instance of major parties in majoritarian systems acting to continuously promote reform.1 In PR systems, large parties have—at least most of the time—good reason to believe that they will gain representation and influence from the adoption of majoritarian features. What blocks these large parties from reforming the system is, first of all, an immediate interest in maintaining their coalitions. An intraparty faction can threaten to defect if reform is adopted out of its interest in preserving its bargaining power within the party, or a crucial coalition partner can threaten to leave the coalition and lead to its collapse. Second, large parties (or significant forces within them) can perceive the status quo as preferable over reforms that can empower their main rivals and harm their close allies. This was the case in Italy until the 1990s, when

CONCLUSIONS

265

majoritarianism could encourage the creation of a governing alternative— most likely, on the extreme left—that would have threatened the continued domination of the Christian Democratic Party and its close allies. When parties base their stands and behaviors toward reform according to its anticipated consequences, they consider not only their relative size, but also their location on the ideological continuum. A majoritarian reform, which would enhance centripetal pressures, can be expected to reward centrist parties, while extreme parties can expect losses. Thus, for example, a small but centrist party can reasonably expect that a majoritarian reform would enable it to cut a very good deal in integrating within a larger party (or a party alliance) due to its strategic position. In short, understanding the stands of parties on reform would improve through relating to their position on the ideological continuum in the same way that coalition theories improved when (in addition to party size) this variable was taken into account. It was shown that extragovernmental actors—especially those who did not have vested interests in the regime structure—could play a central role in the politics of reform. These actors sometimes decided the fate of reform and even its content. The positions of these actors were mainly dictated, or were at least significantly affected, from what can be defined—in order not to deviate from the rational choice approach—as an interest in the performance of the system as a whole (e.g., as citizens facing government). They were less affected by the identification of a specific party or parties that would be rewarded (or penalized) by reform. Changes in the stands and behaviors of political actors toward reform during the process of promoting reform characterized the successful attempts. They resulted primarily from changes in the nature and strength of the pressures for reform, which altered the electoral price of rejecting or adopting reform. For example, there were disparities in the anticipated long- and shortterm rewards for the different interests: supporting reform or merely abstaining might help in the nearest elections, but could cost dearly in the long run, after its implementation. The estimated relative importance of each prediction relates to the electoral cycle. That is, as elections approach, it is likely that the electoral motivation increases, while long-term considerations are pushed aside. Second, some developments can lead to the reevaluation of the anticipated consequences of reform, such as a realignment of parties and voters. Third, the struggle over reform includes the marketing of various versions of its anticipated consequences. Over time, certain versions lost credibility while others gained it. Thus, research must be based on a multistage analysis, which distinguishes between the substantially different perceptions of interests that are dominant and relevant at each stage. A main characteristic of the cases in which reform was successfully promoted was uncertainty about its long-term consequences. Actors often

266

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

determined their stands and behaviors toward reform in conditions of high uncertainty. This happened either because there were several convincing but contradicting versions of the anticipated consequences of the multifaceted system (like in the case of direct election in Israel) or because a politician, faction, or party could not predict their future electoral fortunes and their position in the party system in the light of developments—such as realignment—at the time that reform was promoted (the Japanese case and especially the Italian case). Competition to market different forecasts of the expected consequences of reform was an integral part of the politics of reform. Thus, contextual factors must be taken into account when putting price tags on the behaviors of actors in the politics of reform.2 It cannot be taken for granted that the preferences of the actors are in line with what we—as retrospective analysts—interpret to be their interests. Parties cannot be assumed to be unitary actors in the analysis of the politics of reform. The politics of reform is characterized by disagreements and even nonunitary behavior of parties. “Deviant” behavior of MPs can result from a different diagnosis of the “problems” and their significance; from a different assessment of the consequences of reform for the party; or even from similar diagnoses and predictions that lead to the conclusion that reform benefits specific factions or specific individuals within the party while harming others. In short, it can be helpful to use rational choice for analyzing decisions in some central points of the reform process. In addition, rational choice was found to be very useful in analyzing the balance of interests that results in an equilibrium for the preservation of the system—the vested interests of large and regional parties in majoritarian systems and the stronger vested interests of coalition veto players in PR systems—and may be a good starting point for the study of the reasons for its weakening. But rational choice does not serve as a research paradigm in this case because it cannot keep its promises of simplicity and ahistorical generality and at the same time be sensitive enough to the inherent complexity of the politics of reform in the regime structure in established democracies. The research framework must relate to a variety of relevant actors, to interests at different levels and with different time frames, and, in light of changes over time in the perceptions, interests, and behaviors of actors, must distinguish between stages in the reform process. The price of elegance is much too high in this case. Research must not, in the name of parsimony, simplify the politics of reform through loading the analysis with assumptions regarding the stands, interests, motivations, and behaviors of the actors. That is, presenting the politics of reform as a single game between two cohesive camps of supporters and opponents, who act out of the same motives and have a single common perception of the anticipated consequences of reform, would necessarily lead to an invalid analysis.

CONCLUSIONS

267

INSTITUTIONAL APPROACHES

The institutional approaches suggest either that interactions between the social, cultural, and international environments and political institutions are central to reform initiation, promotion, and adoption, or that an inherent fault in the institutions themselves led to their reform. Reform of the regime structure can be seen as a possible (but not a necessary) response of established democracies to various problems in their functioning. From this perspective, the nature of the problems that reform aims to solve is likely to influence its characteristics. But these approaches are not so naïve as to suggest that the system simply corrects itself. Those who determine the specific formula of reform are only human, and reform may thus reflect their incorrect calculations and flawed understanding of the working of the polity. Lijphart’s (1984) analysis of regimes in democracies and Shugart’s (2001) analysis of electoral systems both offer tools for identifying biases, or pathologies, that characterize a specific regime structure or an electoral system, and can help predict which kinds of reforms are likely to be adopted. However, these approaches do not aspire to fully predict where and when reform will be adopted, or its specific characteristics. According to the logic of these approaches, pressures for reform are likely to increase when inherently problematic elements in the structure of the regime are increasingly and repeatedly pronounced. In our cases, pressures for reform increased when old justifications for preserving a malfunctioning system were removed (like anticommunism in Italy, political stability and economic development in Japan), or when an expected pathology was repeatedly pronounced (“elected dictatorship” in New Zealand; the demise of the dominant party system in Israel and the increase of the power of the small pivotal parties). Various international developments that preceded reform promotion weakened the weight of local cultures and traditions as barriers to reform. In the Italian case, the collapse of the communist bloc removed the cold war justifications for the malfunctioning of the regime. In Japan, those reformers who wanted to establish a two-party system saw the communist collapse and the resulting decrease in ideological polarization within democracies as an opportunity for reform. In Israel, reform was linked to the Americanization of Israeli politics, from the way reform was marketed, to the contributions of American Jews to its promotion, and up to the effect of (Israeli popular understanding of) American presidentialism on the nature of reform and its appeal. In New Zealand, the deviation of reformers from the Anglo-Saxon political tradition can be understood in light of the weakening links with Britain, together with the desire to develop a stronger domestic identity. The institutional approach faces a big challenge when dealing with the issue of reform in the regime structure because it usually treats institutions as stable factors, as independent variables, and as anchors in a complex reality

268

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

that supply steady incentives for behavior. Here, the institutional approach is asked to explain changes in institutions, to relate to institutions as dependent variables. An additional problem is that institutional incentives—especially the vested interest of actors in the existing institutional structure and the impact of coalition politics—usually work well in explaining the preservation of the status quo, not the dynamic of change. Nevertheless, there is good reason for an institutional analysis of the politics of reform. First, unlike other cases of political change—revolution and coup, for example—the issue here is a significant change, a reform, in established democracies characterized by the rule of law. Thus, the opportunities and restraints concerning reform are largely influenced by the rules that relate to the available procedures for changing the rules of the game. For example, legislative procedures were useful in defining the stages of the reform process in the Israeli case studies. They evidently also affected the behavior of actors in different instances (e.g., the difference between behavior in the plenum and in the committees). Second, it was demonstrated that developments in patterns of power dispersion within political institutions and among them made the ground fertile for the promotion of reform initiatives. Such developments fall under the banner of the new institutional approach with the label of “institutional dynamism,” and result from interactions between institutions and their (changing) environment (Thelen & Steinmo, 1992). It is thus possible to use the new institutional approach to identify those developments that led to power dispersion. THE HISTO RICAL-COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE

In the first place, this approach was selected for this study because in allowing for the use of other approaches within its flexible framework, it seemed to fit the examination of a new phenomenon. Indeed, this choice allowed for improvements in the analysis of the politics of reform according to the previously mentioned approaches. But the historical-comparative approach has, in itself, the potential to further promote the analysis of the reform phenomenon. Rational choice would be used to analyze the stands and behaviors of politicians at central decision-making points; the institutional approach would be used to analyze the background factors and to determine the possible path or paths for reform promotion or blocking. The historical-comparative approach, however, remains the optimal approach to a comprehensive analysis of the phenomenon. It is the only approach flexible enough to encompass the inherent complexities of the successful attempts at reform promotion like power dispersion, uncertainty, and the lack of cohesion and coherence in the behavior of the political actors. It would be a worthwhile project to build a more dynamic, path-dependent model of the reform process on the basis of studies such as the one pre-

CONCLUSIONS

269

sented here, one that would optimally balance the need for validity in the analysis of the inherently complex process with the need for simple and parsimonious generalizations. Such a research framework should include as a starting point, and in accordance with the institutional approach, an analysis of the existing regime structure, the way it functions, and, especially, developments that could lead to power dispersion among central actors in the politics of reform. The analysis of the process will be path-dependent, centered mainly on the opportunities that reform procedures supply for reform supporters and opponents. Rational choice will be used to analyze the stands and behaviors of actors at major points in their decision-making. Each research framework in the social sciences necessarily faces the dilemma of the tradeoff between generalizability, simplicity, and precision (Blalock, 1982). However, the nature of the phenomenon itself, whether routine or extraordinary, reflecting normality or a relatively rare change, tends to dictate the relationship between these values. Parsimonious approaches, which suggest rules with universal or high statistical validity, fit the study of regularities. More complex approaches should be employed for studying extraordinary or relatively rare phenomena. Irregular activity of individuals and groups (promoting reform in the regime structure), which interact in a different setting (power dispersion), will likely develop in substantially different patterns and produce substantially different results. Reform is a breach of normality that is based on equilibrium of interests. Thus, the flexible but broad historical-comparative approach (which can encompass other approaches) fits for a general analysis of the politics of reform, while the more parsimonious rational choice and institutional approaches supply convincing explanations for preserving the status quo. MAIN FINDINGS

Most of the time, the status quo is well protected and reflects equilibrium among the actors. In the case of electoral systems, the status quo may be simply preserved by a majority who enjoys the rewards of a majoritarian system. It can also be sustained by a minority—whose very existence and power is dependent on preserving PR—that exploits its coalition potential even when a majority expects that reform would improve its position. Additional barriers to the previously mentioned central barriers of vested interests and coalition politics are the procedural barrier and disagreements over reform content, which were found effective in delaying reform progress. That is, they required that reformers—even after they seemingly succeeded in overcoming vested interests and coalition politics and recruited the support of the needed majority—invest much effort in keeping reform on the agenda and promoting it, and be prepared to make the necessary compromises. Otherwise, these accumulated delays often resulted ultimately in the burial of reform. The

270

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

rationale of the existing order, as well as the traditions affiliated with it, seemed to be the least difficult barrier to overcome. In combining the old with the new, the mixed versions of reform enabled reformers to demonstrate sufficient sensitivity to tradition and to the “proven” virtues of the existing order. That is, the easier barriers to overcome are those that scholars usually see as the most important to the well-being of the polity: the suitability of the system to the country’s political tradition and to the structure of society. Power dispersion was found to be a central element in explaining the politics of reform in two respects. First, the more power that was dispersed among the actors in the politics of reform, the farther the reform initiative progressed. Second, the more power dispersed among the actors in the politics of reform, the more reform was expected to change the future functioning of the system, especially the patterns of power distribution among the various actors. The increase in the number and variety of the relevant actors in the politics of reform, and the dispersion of power among them, made it possible to overcome the main barriers to reform: the vested interests of the two large parties and regional parties in countries with majoritarian systems; and the coalition barrier, which characterizes countries with PR systems. Reform was adopted when politics were abnormal, when power was distributed in a substantially different manner than usual. Normal politics, controlled mainly by the executive branch, gave way to much more inclusive politics, in which individual MPs and parliamentary factions, public opinion and pressure groups, and sometimes additional actors, played a central role. Power dispersion occurred within parties, which was expressed by an increase in the independence of individual MPs and factions vis-à-vis party institutions and leadership, within the governmental system, between the different branches, and, even wider in scope, spread among governmental and nongovernmental actors. The change in everyday patterns of power dispersion can contribute to reform promotion in three ways. First, power dispersion blurs common perceptions and conventions about the winners and losers in the existing regime structure and the expectations from the consequences of reform. Uncertainty supplies vigorous entrepreneurs an opportunity to market promises for positive change, to be expressed in the empowerment of politicians and parties and the functioning of the system as a whole. Second, power dispersion means that no single actor can veto reform unilaterally, which opens the way for reform promotion through building coalitions that cross party, coalition, and institutional lines. Finally, extragovernmental actors upset the equilibrium in the balance of interests between governmental actors, a balance usually sufficient to preserve the regime structure. Extragovernmental actors have no immediate vested interest in the system as it is, and they are more interested in its systemic functioning than in the success or failure of a certain party or parties.

CONCLUSIONS

271

Different long-term developments were the background for reform in the 1990s’ cases. The necessary condition for reform to pass all barriers is not one particular development from the list that was suggested on the basis of the Israeli experience, but a combination of various developments. This combination creates an arena for the politics of reform in which power is more dispersed than in everyday politics. Events became valuable to reform promotion only after reformers demonstrated a link between the “problems” and their “solution.” Even if those events were in themselves significant enough to open the window of opportunity for change, the entrance of reform through the open window was dependent on the link that reformers created between the event and reform. The electoral cycle, a basic feature of established democracies, was very useful for reform promotion when reformers succeeded in convincing parties and candidates that their attitudes toward reform would affect their popular support in the elections. The channeling of long-term developments and events for the sake of reform promotion meant that reformers succeeded in transforming those raw materials into “proof” of the “problem.” This task became easier when power was dispersed because the identification of the Government with the system weakened in such a way that it became possible to separate the criticism of the functioning of the system from the criticism of its personnel. Reform progressed through several distinct stages. The procedures for reform in the regime structure—the rules of regular legislation, additional requirements, and even alternative channels for reform promotion—all dictated that reform would progress in stages. Each stage was different from the others: in the composition of the camps of proponents and opponents of reform; in the centrality of the different actors; in the kind of pressures and interests that were the most prevalent for the promotion of reform and its blocking. The multifaceted nature of the mixed systems was a convenient platform for campaigning and lobbying. To different audiences and at different times, reform could be marketed as preserving or changing, serving interests of one party or the other, fulfilling one value or another. Reform could be marketed as a radical change to the protesting public, and at the same time presented to politicians as a minor change, one that did not substantially threaten their interests and could even serve them because supporting it would be rewarded electorally. Reform of the regime structure in established democracies occurs as a result of human action; preservation requires no action except responses to reformist activity. Reformers try to overcome barriers that usually do the job of protecting the existing institutional order. Long-term developments, events, and even mixed member systems are, in themselves, only raw materials that actors may (or may not) succeed in transforming into weapons in the struggle for reform. Because reform progresses in conditions of power dispersion, no actor can be expected to win an ultimate victory. Thus, the final

272

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

product reflects results of interactions among various actors, not an engineered reform that should be expected to optimally serve systemic goals or even the interests of the usual main political actors. What is the future of reforms in the regime structure of established democracies in general? Did we witness a wave at the beginning of the 1990s or are reforms likely to be adopted more frequently in the future? In general, the conditions for promoting reform seem to be improving. A process of dispersion of power—within parties, between governmental branches, and between governmental and nongovernmental actors—seems to be taking place to a certain extent in many established democracies. But this does not indicate that reforms will start to be adopted on a regular basis. Without decisive entrepreneurs that would exploit these constructive conditions and convince their allies to support reform, no initiative will progress far enough. Furthermore, the experience of those countries that have adopted reform is likely to make parties more cautious in dealing with reform. Why should Labor and the Conservatives in the UK aspire to become major partners in ruling coalitions instead of preserving their duopoly? Why should large parties in PR systems aspire to give up large shares of their power as the Israeli large parties did? Or why should they imitate the Italian earthquake? In short, there is every reason to believe that reform in the regime structure of established democracies will be a rare phenomenon in the future as well, and will thus also deserve a special scholarly treatment when it occurs.

Epilogue

FURTHER DISPERSION of power—especially among political parties—that

resulted from implementing direct election of the PM (1996–2001) in Israel created a relatively comfortable setting for further reforms. Paradoxically, it was the repeal of direct election of the PM that proved this point. The reform of the government system in Israel was adopted in 1992, implemented for the first time in 1996, and abolished in 2001. In less than a decade after the adoption of reform, Israel reverted to its previous system. Yet, the new Basic Law: The Government (2001) nevertheless contains two important elements that are different from the old Basic Law: the PM can call for new elections, and the Knesset can oust the government and replace it without conducting new elections just by passing a constructive vote of no confidence that would be supported by an absolute majority of its members. The politics of reform abolition deserves a separate analysis (Rahat, 2006). In a nutshell, it can be described as a process in which the gradual reviling of the consequences of reform led to its abolition. What happened in the wake of the 1996 and 1999 elections—the decline of the large aggregative parties and the empowerment of the small sectarian parties—convinced most members of the large and small nonsectarian parties that it was in their interest to abolish reform. Furthermore, the promised stability and improved governability were not achieved. Both Netanyahu’s (1996–1999) and Barak’s (1999–2001) governments had collapsed prematurely; coalition politics was not checked, but rather bloomed with the increase in the number of effective parties and in the power of the small sectarian parties; and the popular legitimacy of the directly elected PM vanished very quickly. A comparison (Rahat, 2006) of the process that led to the repeal of Israel’s electoral reform (1992–2001) to that of reform adoption (1987–1992) demonstrates that the most significant difference between the two was in the kinds of information available in them. After the implementation of direct elections, there was real evidence of the working of the system. This meant

273

274

THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFORM IN DEMOCRACIES

that freedom in the marketing of claims on the political consequences of the reformed system became more and more limited. Information in the politics of reform adoption was susceptible to manipulation, and its supply was a crucial feature of the struggle itself, while in the politics of reform abolition the real consequences of reform were constantly unfolding. Indeed, the analysis of MKs’ voting behavior on reform abolition clearly points to a process of learning or becoming convinced by exposure to real evidence. Other differences—not in type but in extent—stemmed from this major difference. First, there was a clear difference between the levels of cohesion of the camps of reform opponents and proponents throughout the processes. While both coalitions of supporters and opponents had to be built and then rebuilt several times in both processes, the cohesion of the camps throughout the struggle for reform abolition was higher than in that for reform adoption. Second, motivations for support and rejection of reform clearly varied. While explaining the behavior of most parliamentary actors in the two processes as based on office-seeking successfully served the analysis, the actual perceptions of its exact contextual meaning was dependent on different available information. In the case of the adoption of direct elections, public opinion and parties’ belonging to a certain ideological camp served (at different stages) to explain the behavior of most MKs. In the case of the abolition of direct elections, the type of party (sectarian and nonsectarian) served to explain most MKs’ behavior. The two processes were also found to have common characteristics. In the politics of reform abolition, like in the politics of reform adoption, the timing of the vote on reform bills sometimes proved to be a successful tool for overcoming coalition pressures and other kinds of opposition to reform. Reformers succeeded in recruiting majority support at times when the maintenance of the governing coalition became a less pressing issue vis-à-vis other considerations. Power dispersion characterized both arenas of the politics of reform. In the case of reform adoption, it was diffusion among parliamentary and extraparliamentray actors. Paradoxically, reform resulted in a dramatic increase in power diffusion within the parliamentary arena. The veto power of small coalition partners—the sectarian parties that wanted to preserve the system they enjoyed—was less effective under these conditions. Reform also separated the PM from the Knesset and its abolition could thus be promoted—even though party chairmen and PMs Netanyahu and Barak rejected the abolition move. Furthermore, parties were more internally divided than ever, which was evident in their low level of cohesion in voting on reform abolition. The dispersion of power either weakened the relevant veto players or created a diffusion of interests among formerly closely linked players (the PM and his Knesset’s party group). Consequently, no single player was individually able to block reform. Power dispersion left room for maneuverability in

EPILOGUE

275

building the reform abolition coalition and facilitated the abilities of individual MKs to cooperate with each other, crossing coalition-opposition and partisan lines. It was due to this increasing dispersion of power in the Israeli regime institutions that the reform contained the seeds of its own repeal. Thanks to the availability of information, the politics of reform abolition is a better candidate for analysis by a rational choice model. This is especially so because assumptions concerning the perception of interests are likely to fit actual perceptions and behaviors. Nevertheless, this approach may still be found to be too rigid, static, and ahistorical to capture central developments, such as the accumulation of information and its impact on actors’ behaviors. Political scientists should still take care to bring their complete toolbox with them even when studying the much more structured process of reform abolition. And what of the health of the Israeli polity? While abolishing direct election is likely to stabilize the system, the situation in which the rules of the game are frequently changed does not contribute to the stability of democracy. The fact that the wrong cure was taken should not lead to the conclusion that Israel should better stick to its existing system. Indeed, it is much better than the adopted and abolished government system of 1996–2001, and there is great logic in preserving a consensus type of institutional order in a heterogeneous society. This experience also tells us that Israel must stick to its parliamentary government system. Nevertheless, some fine-tuning is necessary to improve its functioning. Moreover, the politics of government system reform taught us to be ready and alert, so the next cry for “change” might be answered by a reasonable reform. One would hope that the next reform move will not suggest another “bypass” but will deal with the real challenge—the reform of the “extreme” electoral system. I would suggest following Lijphart’s (1993) advice, to adopt a semiopen list system, stick to the PR system, but increase the legal threshold to 4–5 percent, and adopt multimember districts with a national pool. The experience of many countries with similar electoral system seems to justify its adoption.

This page intentionally left blank.

Notes

INTRODUCTION 1. For the sake of clarity, this study labels attempts at reforming the Knesset’s electoral system as “electoral reforms,” while the reform adopted in 1992 will be labeled either “direct election for the PM” (or direct elections, for short) or “government system reform.” It is still the case that the latter reform can be analyzed as an electoral reform (Shugart, 2001; Rahat, 2001b). 2. Duverger’s (1965, 1986) laws would be a prime example of such an approach. 3. The term “established democracies” refers here to the twenty-one countries that have functioned continuously as democracies since the Second World War (Lijphart, 1984). 4. See, for example, Rahat’s (2004) critique of Bueno de Mesquita’s (2000) account of the adoption of government system reform in Israel. 5. A systematic detailed analysis of the politics of reform in 1949–1959 can be found in Rahat, 2001a. CHAPTER ONE. STABILITY AND REFO RM OF THE REGIME STRUCTURES OF ESTABLISHED DEMO CRACIES 1. The French case is exceptional. Since the Second World War, France adopted several changes to its regime structure. These included electoral reforms and a substantial reform in the government system in the transition from the Fourth to the Fifth Republic. With stability in the regime structure of other established democracies, the French case was perceived as deviant and analyzed with an emphasis on French history and political tradition. See, for example, Criddle, 1992. 2. On the impact of prominent developments on the research agenda of political science, see Wiarda, 1991. 3. On the abolition of second chambers, see Longley & Olson, 1991a. On the adoption of a written constitution in Canada see Cairns, 1985. On adopting federalism in Belgium, see Fitzmaurice, 1996. 277

278

NOTES TO CHAPTER ONE

4. The research literature calls these actors whose consent is needed to pass reform “veto players.” Those points in the legislative process where reform can be blocked are called “veto points” (Kaiser, 1997). The concepts of veto actors and veto points go beyond the procedural-institutional explanation, for example, in treating coalition components as veto actors (Tsebelis, 1995). This issue will be dealt with later; while it derives from institutional rules, it is not necessarily entrenched in them. 5. From 1958 until 1992, only the electoral system was somewhat protected, since an absolute majority, rather than a simple one, was required to amend its main features. 6. For example, until 1964, each newly elected Israeli Knesset had to begin the legislation process from its starting point. Since the adoption of the “Law of Continuity in Legislation” in 1964, it is possible to continue the legislation of bills that passed first readings in the previous Knesset. 7. In the Israeli context, this was called “dynamic conservatism” (Eisenstadt, 1985). 8. Browne & Hamm (1996) analyzed an incidence of voting paradox in an attempt at electoral reform in France in 1951. In that case, the voting cycle was broken, but, as we will see, there are cases when disagreements serve as effective barriers for reform. 9. For a critique on Boix’s (1999) analysis, see Andrews & Jackman, 2005. 10. For a general critique on the rational choice approach, connected to the specific critiques presented later, see Dawes, 1988; Dryzek, 1996; Friedman, 1995; Green & Shapiro, 1994; Simon, 1957; Tversky & Kahneman, 1982; Ward, 1995. 11. For such an analysis of the Israeli case, see Bueno de Mesquita, 2000; Doron & Kay, 1995. 12. See, for example, the collections of case studies edited by Norris, 1995a; Shugart & Wattenberg, 2001a. 13. As will be demonstrated in chapter nine, the path of the reform process is different in each country, in accordance with its specific legal procedures, such as referendums in Italy and New Zealand. For a different classification of the stages of the reform process, see Banting & Simeon, 1985. 14. Mixed electoral systems are a variant of multiple-tier electoral systems. They are distinguished in their inclusion of both nominal (personal) and list tiers (Shugart & Wattenberg, 2001b). Sartori (1999) argues that mixed systems are only the ones in which the majoritarian and proportional principles are used at the same time for translating votes to parliamentary representation. From this point of view, the electoral system of Germany and New Zealand are not mixed, but fully proportional. This study will stick to the wider definition because from the perspective of the politics of reform, the combination is more important than the actual consequences, and plays a role even in the case of multiple-tier electoral systems that are not mixed according to both definitions. 15. Those readers interested in the detailed references of the primary sources on which this research is based are advised to consult Rahat, 2000.

NOTES TO CHAPTER THREE

279

CHAPTER TWO. THE ELECTO RAL SYSTEM, 1948–1969: A BRIEF HISTO RICAL OVERVIEW 1. The first three sections of this chapter are based on a detailed systematic analysis of the politics of reform in 1948–1959 that appears in Rahat, 2001a. 2. The legal threshold was 0.83 in 1949; 1 percent in the 1951–1988 elections; 1.5 percent in the 1992–2003 elections; and 2 percent since the 2006 elections. 3. The average is calculated by dividing the number of votes for each party list by the number of seats it already won, plus one. The party with the higher average wins a seat and continues to take part in the allocation after this seat is added to its divisor. 4. Twenty-five years later, in 1973, the successful attempt to readopt the Hagenbach-Bischoff formula received great attention and created a fierce public and parliamentary struggle. 5. The first Knesset also rejected an amendment that suggested protecting the electoral system by requiring that any future changes be supported by a two-thirds majority. A proposal to decrease the number of MKs (Members of Knesset) was countered by a proposal to increase it; both were rejected. 6. Suggestions to adopt a clause that would require supermajorities for the amendment of the electoral system were rejected by MKs from the small parties, especially from the religious parties, who feared this would be a precedent that could be used against them in their struggle to block constitution making (Goldberg, 1998). Majority support for protecting the electoral system from amendment by a plurality vote was, however, recruited because the religious parties saw it as serving their interest in entrenching the system, while being distinct from a constitutional supermajority. 7. The formula that was adopted, however, left open the question of the required majority in the preliminary reading. This issue was resolved only in 1990—see chapter seven. 8. These included, in the sixth Knesset, the adoption of the Basic Law: The Government (1968) and the Party Finance Law, as well as unsuccessful private initiatives for adopting a Party Law, the establishment of a second chamber, and a bill suggesting the direct election of mayors that passed its first reading. CHAPTER THREE. THE POLITICS OF ELECTO RAL REFO RM, 1969–1977: THE FAILURE TO PROMOTE COMPROMISE 1. Brichta (1977) compared cabinet durability in Israel during 1949–1970, with that of seventeen Western democracies during 1945–1966. He found that the average Government duration in Israel was similar to most Western democracies, and among the highest in multiparty systems. 2. In almost all the polls conducted in 1969–1977, the share of those who answered “bad” and “very bad” to the question, “How do you rate the way government is dealing with the current situation?” increased. In 1969, about 20 percent chose

280

NOTES TO CHAPTER THREE

these categories; in 1972–1973, it was about 40 percent; after the 1973 War, it rose to above 60 percent; in 1977, it rose to 80 percent (Wolfsfeld, 1993). 3. More than 40 percent of the laws legislated by the twelfth Knesset originated in private member bills, while in the eighth Knesset they comprised only 20 percent of all laws legislated. 4. The eve of 1973 elections could not serve that purpose because it was overshadowed by the war and the pressing needs that resulted from it. 5. The subsection does not refer to the president because, while certain events may have created a pretext for presidential “nonpartisan” involvement, the custom that the president refrains from dealing with “political” issues was kept. 6. This difference in the positions of Labor and Mapam was acknowledged in their joint election platform, which gave Mapam freedom of action on the issue. 7. Herut was enraged at the Liberal Party after Labor’s reform bill passed a preliminary reading with the support of some of its MKs. This happened because Herut mistakenly assumed that the Liberal Party would ensure—by absences and abstentions of its MKs—that the bill would lack the necessary support of an absolute majority. See Aridor, 1972; Bader, 1979; Bloch, 1970. 8. On interest groups, see Yishai, 1987. On public protest, see Wolfsfeld, 1988. 9. For a detailed list, see Rahat, 2000, p. 133, f44, f45. 10. Newspapers evidently demonstrated increased interest in electoral reform in March–April 1974, after the Yom Kippur War, and again at the end of 1976 and the beginning of 1977. For a list of newspaper articles from these periods, see Rahat, 2000, p. 134, f49. 11. See Arian, 1998, p. 200. Also see Arian, 1990, p. 237; Ha’aretz, July 28, 1968, August 12, 1969, Spetember 26, 1973, April 1, 1974. 12. The reformist atmosphere of 1974 was exemplified by a conference arranged by Hakibbutz Ha’artzi, a body affiliated with the antireformist Mapam. Although most of the speakers expressed rejection to decreasing proportionality, they did suggest alternative reforms and did not dedicate their efforts to defending the status quo (Shor, 1974). 13. The Liberals agreed to support the bill only after Labor promised that the implementation of reform would be postponed until after the next elections. 14. In July 1974, an additional bill that suggested the adoption of a PR system with subnational districts passed a preliminary reading. It was later considered rejected, together with the previous three bills, because it lacked the support of an absolute majority. The issue of the necessary majority in the preliminary reading was settled only in 1990, when an amendment was accepted that made an absolute majority necessary only in the first, second, and third readings (see chapter four). 15. At the same time, the Liberal Party was worried that Labor/Alignment would win a manufactured majority under a reformed PR system, and successfully demanded that the reform bill include a clause that would not allow this to happen.

NOTES TO CHAPTER FOUR

281

16. If the slow and undetermined promotion of the electoral reform initiative demonstrated the weaknesses of the reform coalition, then the failed attempt at finally passing the initiative for direct mayoral elections testifies to the importance of formulating an agreed-on proposal. In March 1973, this bill—which was already promoted in the 1950s—was rejected in the third and final reading. Its rejection was based on a disagreement over the size of the majority needed to win the elections in the first round. Labor insisted on 40 percent, while other supporters of reform demanded a 50 percent majority, otherwise there would be a second round or elections by the municipal council. While a majority supported the direct elections of mayors, this politically important detail (which was expected to impact the smaller parties’ influence on mayoral elections) blocked its final approval. This reform was finally adopted in the eighth Knesset, after disagreement over its content effectively delayed its progress for almost two decades. 17. Direct and personal election of mayors was adopted as law in 1975. Several parties democratized their intraparty candidate selection methods. The DMC was prominent in this respect; it was the first party to adopt the party primaries method. Herut also reformed its method, replacing its nomination committee with a more inclusive selectorate—its central committee. CHAPTER FOUR. THE POLITICS OF ELECTO RAL REFO RM, 1984–1990: F ROM (KNESSET) ELECTO RAL REFO RM TO GOVERNMENT SYSTEM REFO RM 1. The election platforms of Likud (forty-three seats), Labor (twenty-eight seats), DMC (fifteen seats), Shlomzion (two seats), Independent Liberal Party (one seat), and Ratz (one seat) expressed support for electoral reform. 2. The only exception to this “rule” was the bipartisan Likud-Labor committee of 1989. 3. The Committee of Concerned Citizens, an interest group composed of immigrants from English-speaking countries, was active on the issue of reform (lobbying, publicity, and conferences) at the beginning of the 1980s. 4. Retrospective analysis from 1977 on shows that whenever the ultraorthodox had the power to decide which party would govern, they preferred Likud, perceiving it as more sympathetic to religious tradition, and because in doing so they demonstrated responsiveness to their voters’ hawkish stands. 5. In its 1984, 1988, and 1990 coalition agreements with the religious parties, Likud promised that electoral reform would be adopted only if they did not reject it. In its efforts to establish its narrow coalition, Labor was also ready to give the religious parties such veto power on reform legislation. 6. Public trust in the Knesset decreased from 60 percent to 49 percent; in the Government, from 60 percent to 48 percent; in political parties, from 35 percent to 14 percent (Peres & Yuchtman-Yaar, 1992, p. 39). 7. For the programs and coalition agreements of the unity Governments, see Galnoor & Hofnung 1993, pp. 1006–1015.

282

NOTES TO CHAPTER FOUR

8. Although differences between the stands and behaviors of the representatives of different parties in the Likud party alliance toward reform were still apparent, they did not reflect cohesive party stands. At the same time that most prominent opponents of reform came from the ranks of Herut, so also did most champions of reform. 9. One MK of the right-wing Tehiya party was a prominent champion of the initiative to increase the threshold during the eleventh and twelfth Knessets. Paradoxically, the increase of the threshold to 1.5 percent not only left his party (with 1.1 percent of the votes) out of the thirteenth Knesset, but also allowed Labor to capture the pivotal position and pass the Oslo Accords, which stood against this party’s Greater Israel ideology. 10. For a more detailed analysis of the CFI and its activities, see chapter six and Bechor, 1996. 11. The head of the “Soviet Jewry Zionist Forum,” the renowned Nathan Sharansky, expressed support for reform, which seemed to be an important asset in terms of Israeli and Jewish public opinion. 12. In a mail poll of Jewish mayors conducted at the beginning of the 1980s, 92 percent supported electoral reform that would include district elections, and 95 percent thought that this would result in more concern for local government (Brichta, 1982b). 13. See Brichta, 1988b,c, 1991; Rader, 1988; Shamir, 1989; Shugart, 1988; Yechezkeli, 1989. 14. The link between the need for electoral reform and Government policies and political disorder was also presented in major American newspapers, like the New York Times and the Washington Post. 15. See, for example, Allon, 1995, p. 58; Shapira et al., 1987. 16. Dahaf Institute, Seker Bazak no. 212, 3–4.4.90, Dahaf Archive. 17. In May 1988, two reform opponents in the CLJC tried to block the reform bill from reaching the plenum for a first reading and asked to discuss a revision of the previous decision to pass it. Reform proponents supported this request and exploited it to add to the bill the alternative (MMP) version of reform, and then returned the bill to the plenum. 18. Opponents of electoral reform from Likud refrained from expressing their rejection in the deliberations, which also testifies to the impact of the public campaign. 19. The decision of Labor, while positive, was formulated in a way that enabled the party to refrain from automatic support for reform in the event that immediate needs would require it. 20. The reformist atmosphere of the era was evident when a private member bill for adopting an SMD system passed in a preliminary reading two days after the establishment of Shamir’s government. While this was no more than a symbolic move, the fact that there was no serious attempt to block such a radical reform indicates that reform opponents preferred to do so in the less public realm of the CLJC, where this reform bill was not even raised for deliberation.

NOTES TO CHAPTER FIVE

283

21. It was also the case that the private member bill Basic Law: Human Rights, which the ultraorthodox fiercely rejected, won the support of a large majority in the plenum (fifty-three supporters vs. nineteen opponents) but was buried in the CLJC. 22. See the Knesset’s computerized archive, 14.3.88. 23. Jewish and Israeli tradition was argued to be a main factor in Schwartz’s (1994) explanation of Israel’s unique use of a nationwide district. Her analysis is unconvincing—as demonstrated in this study, tradition is a relatively easy barrier to overcome. Reformers should show sensitivity to tradition, yet they have enough leverage to present almost any reform proposal as sensitive to “tradition.” 24. The purist rage against the self-interested MKs did not stop the CFI from recruiting self-interested adherents to reform, such as mayors who were elected directly and personally, and could be rewarded by the adoption of a system that would give an important role to their local and personal bases of power. 25. Interviews conducted at the end of 1988 with four MKs who supported reform are instructive: Two claimed that direct election of the PM was the solution to the problems of coalition horse-trading, while the other two rejected it and supported electoral reform. In addition, they were divided on the content of electoral reform (Jerusalem Post, December 16). It is even more instructive to note that the stands of three of the four changed during the 1989–1991 period. CHAPTER FIVE. LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENTS, CATALYZING EVENTS, AND THE REFO RM INITIATIVE 1. In an opinion poll conducted in 1990, 22 percent of those interviewed said they completely agreed (compared to 15 percent in 1987) and 23 percent said they agreed (compared to 19 percent in 1987) with the statement: “In the current situation in Israel, a strong leadership that will make order in the state without being dependent on elections or Knesset votes is preferable.” Other questions in this poll also showed an increase in antidemocratic stands (Ben Chorin, 1990). 2. There was only one precedent for such massive participation in a demonstration in Israel. That demonstration, however, which called for the establishment of a committee to investigate the massacre of hundreds of Palestinians in refugee camps near Beirut, had a clear ideological and partisan character. 3. For example, the adoption of party primaries in Labor before the 1992 elections pressured its MKs, including some harsh critics of reform, to stick to the party’s decision to support reform, since it was very popular with the public. It also encouraged Peres, who seemed to have second thoughts about reform, to toe the party line in the face of his competition with Rabin for the leadership of Labor. 4. Responding to pressure from the PM, MK Corfo, a prominent antireform activist, refrained from submitting hundreds of amendments he had prepared for the reform bill in March 1992. The PM feared that such a maneuver would damage Likud’s image in the upcoming elections (Allon, 1995). 5. Labor reused this slogan more than a year and a half after the speech in ads that asked: “Who will elect the next PM, Rabbi Shach or you?” (Hadashot, October 7, 1991)

284

NOTES TO CHAPTER FIVE

6. For example, a sharp decrease in public trust in the political system in 1974, after the Yom Kippur War, which could justifiably be labeled a “crisis,” was linked to the need for electoral reform. Indeed, immediately after the war, a poll found that 62 percent supported electoral reform and 38 percent even claimed to be ready to actively promote reform (Ha’aretz, April 1, 1974). 7. In a table that ranked average levels of participation in general elections in 134 countries between 1945 and 1977, Israel came in twenty-sixth (IDEA, 1997, pp. 22–23). 8. In a series of opinion polls that started in 1969, high levels of frustration with the political system were already found in 1974 (Wolfsfeld, 1993). 9. For a review of pre-1988 proposals for government system reform, see Rahat, 2000, pp. 206–210. 10. See, for example, MK Rubinstein’s speeches in the Twelfth Knesset Records of July 11, 1991, January 2, 1992; and of Lynn in January 2, 1992, January 7, 1992. 11. Chaim Corfo, “Igeret Shniya Lechavrey Halikud Be’inyan Hatsa’at Hachok Lebechira Yeshira Shel Rosh Hamemshala,” July 24, 1991, Personal Archive. Corfo repeated these claims in two additional letters that he sent the members of the Likud’s central commitee. For similar claims from other reform opponents from Likud, see Kaufman, 1991; U. Landau, 1991a. 12. Beilin et al., “Pniya Letmicha Bahatsa’a Hashniya: Rosh Hamemshala Yihye Rosh Hasi’a Hagdola Beyoter,” December 19, 1990, 23/91, Bet Berl Archive. 13. Goldberg (1999a) shows that a trend of a decrease in the representation of the large parties in city councils began the first time that direct elections of mayors were conducted, and that this decrease continued in each election. Weiss’s claim about the French case is also invalid because electoral reform, rather than adopting a presidential system, explained the decrease in the number of parties in France. 14. David Magen, Binyamin Netanyahu, and Uriel Lynn, “Michtav El Chavrey Mercaz Halikud,” November 1991, Israel Democracy Institute Archive. 15. Magen et al., November 1991, ibid. In an opinion poll conducted in June 1990, 50 percent claimed that they would support Rabin if he were to compete with Shamir, who was supported by 33 percent (Smith & Smith, 1991). A poll conducted in June 1991 reveals similar results (Jerusalem Post, July 14, 1991). On the other hand, a poll presented by pro-reform Likud MK David Magen found that if Shamir faced Peres he would win 38.9 percent support versus 25.7 percent for Peres. Facing Rabin, Shamir would still lead with 38.6 percent versus 36.1 percent for Rabin (Hadashot, July 29, 1991). 16. Peres claimed that direct election would allow the Labor candidate to win the votes of dovish religious voters and also of liberals. These votes, he claimed, now go to a right-religious coalition because under the current system voters cannot split their vote. 17. Uzi Landau, Michtav Lechavrey Mercaz Halikud, “Hanidon: Lo Lebechira Yeshira, Ken Lechizuk Rosh Hamemshala,” 1991, Personal Archive. See also U. Landau, 1991a.

NOTES TO CHAPTER FIVE

285

18. Chaim Corfo, “Igeret Lechavrey Halikud Be’inyan Hatsa’at Hachok Lebechira Yeshira Shel Rosh Hamemshala,” July 20, 1991, Personal Archive. In his speech in the Likud central committee, on December 21, 1991, Corfo claimed that the reform campaign was aimed at the Likud and “proved” it by arguing that it was financed by known leftists who were interested in imposing their views on the peace process. 19. These claims are based on Corfo’s three letters to the members of the Likud’s central committee, obtained from his personal archive. 20. In its letter to the members of the Likud’s central committee in December 16, 1991, CFI also argued that the impact of the Arab vote would not change under direct election because these votes went to those parties that already supported Labor in the March 1990 crisis and were supposed to be part of its coalition. 21. See Magen et. al. November 1991, ibid. Reichman raised similar claims in an interview in Ha’aretz (October 2, 1991), and Lynn (1991a) did the same in an article in the Likud’s magazine. 22. Avineri (1992), for example, suggested two possible contradicting scenarios, one with an overly powerful PM with a large majority and the other with a weak PM who faced an antagonistic majority in the Knesset. 23. Opinion polls showed that many (42 percent) wanted a strong leadership that would take charge with no dependence on election results or Knesset votes (Peres & Yuchtman-Yaar, 1992, p. 12). 24. In Labor’s meeting on December 23, 1990, Rabin also claimed that Europe should be studied, rather than those areas where democracy had failed, such as Latin America and Southeast Asia. The examples he mentioned were France and the United States. 25. Rubinstein (1990e) claimed that no democracy that used direct election had collapsed, while Hitler and Mussolini came to power through elections in a parliamentary regime and by first establishing a coalition government. 26. Cited from Mifleget Ha’avoda Hayisraelit, Hamercaz, “Protocol Miluli Meyeshivat Mercaz Hamiflaga,” December 23, 1990, 23/91, Bet Berl Archive, p. 16. 27. See, for example, MK Tsiddon’s speech in the Twelfth Knesset Records, May 15, 1990. In the same discussion there were those who claimed, for different reasons, that these examples did not fit the Israeli context and should not be used to justify reform. Even Libai, an initiator of the reform bill, claimed that the reform was not about adopting a French or American type of regime. 28. In opposition, Likud MK Landau (1991b), labeled the reform a UFO—an unidentified (flying) object—that cannot be found anywhere in the world. 29. Cited from Mifleget Ha’avoda Hayisraelit, Hamercaz, “Protocol Miluli Meyeshivat Mercaz Hamiflaga,” December 23, 1990, 23/91, Bet Berl Archive, p. 23. 30. See, for example, a collection of articles by prominent scholars under the title “The Failure of Presidential Democracy” (Linz & Valenzuela, 1994). Sprinzak (1991), a political scientist, was trying to stir a fight in the comparative arena, arguing that

286

NOTES TO CHAPTER FIVE

his colleagues were mistaken in their claims of consensus concerning the positive relationship between parliamentary regimes and regime stability, and referred them to the debate that took place in the Journal of Democracy (1990, vol. 1, 4) on presidential versus parliamentary regimes. 31. See Yechezkel Dror, Chavat Da’at Bilti Muzmenet: Reforma Bamishtar,” November 26, 1991, Israel Democracy Institute Archive. 32. Avnon (2000) pointed to the disagreement in the perceptions of the relationship between the branches. He claimed that a division of powers does not characterize parliamentary regimes, and criticized the perception presented by legal scholar, Klein (1973), one of the prominent supporters of reform. 33. The twelfth Knesset adopted two Basic Laws that dealt with human rights— Basic Law: Freedom of Occupation (1992) and Basic Law: Human Dignity and Freedom (1992). 34. Bechor (1996, p. 52) claimed that the idea of direct election of the PM originated in a compromise between the prominent formulators of the CFI constitution draft. Allon (1995) and Rubinstein (Twelfth Knesset Records, May 28, 1990) claimed that Daniel Friedman, a legal scholar, had raised this idea already in 1984, and that while he played a minor part in composing the complete draft constitution, he was nevertheless responsible for this part. These different versions of the origins of the proposal are not necessarily contradictory, as Friedman’s idea might have been a basis for compromise in the debate within the CFI. 35. Rubinstein’s attempt to enhance the power of the Knesset was prominent in his reservation concerning the joint proposal of the four MKs. He suggested that the Knesset should be able to oust the PM with an absolute majority—after one year of his or her term and only once in a term—which would result in new elections for the PM only (Har Zahav, 1990). 36. In his explanation for his private member bill, Libai declared that it was a version of the CFI proposal with some small revisions. 37. The law stated that if the budget did not pass within three months after the beginning of the budget year, both branches would face new elections. 38. In the four MKs’ joint proposal, special elections for the PM alone were to take place only in the rare instance when both the PM and his deputy left their posts as a result of death, impeachment, resignation, or health problems and the Knesset did not select a replacement for the missing deputy. Even then, special elections were to take place only if the Knesset had more than a year to finish its term; otherwise, elections for both branches would be conducted. 39. A. Diskin & H. Diskin (1991) also claimed that the PM’s status vis-à-vis the Knesset would be weakened if the Knesset were given the power to oust ministers and if the law, which would restrict the PM’s coalition maneuvers, limited the number of ministers and deputy ministers. 40. Korn (1994) pointed out that such a mechanism could have prevented the Stinky Trick—the three months of coalition negotiations in the middle of the Knesset term—because the Government would not fall before there was a real alternative available.

NOTES TO CHAPTER SIX

287

41. See Machleket Mechkar, “Shinuy Shitat Hamimshal Beyisrael: ‘Ikarey Mimtsaim Maskanot Vehamlatsot,” March 19. 1990, Tamir, Cohen (Jacobsohn) Advertising, Israel Democracy Institute Archive. CHAPTER SIX. THE ACTO RS 1. This legislation included: amendments to the MKs’ immunity law, authorization of the PM to fire deputy ministers, prohibition of the use of oaths and curses to influence voters, retention of privileges from MKs who defected from their party group, increase in the legal electoral threshold, prohibition of the participation of state employees in intraparty candidate selection, enabling state employees to vote outside Israel, establishment of a national security council, and a Party Law (Allon, 1992c; Har Zahav, 1992). 2. Some experts who testified before the bipartisan committee did address the issue of government system reform. 3. In an interview conducted in autumn 1990, Herzog refrained from clarifying this point and claimed only that a decision should be made between adopting the French presidential model and the German system (Working Together for Change, 1990). His ambiguity could be understood in the face of the gap between his own perception that electoral reform was the most necessary reform (Herzog, 1997) and the growing tendency to support government system reform. 4. The number of petitions continuously increased: in 1970, 381 petitions were submitted to the Supreme Court; in 1980, 702; in 1990, 1308 (Barzilai, 1998). The number of petitions submitted in 1987 was seven times the number in 1956 (Edelman, 1995). 5. MK Corfo, who opposed reform, attempted to recruit the court to his side, claiming that legislation procedures were flawed. The Supreme Court rejected this petition for the same reason that the petition against electoral reform legislation was rejected in 1986, claiming that it was too early to interfere (HCJ 5665/91). 6. In an opinion poll that was conducted in 1989–1990, 83 percent expressed trust in the Supreme Court, while less than 50 percent trusted Government, the Knesset, and parties (Peres & Yuchtman-Yaar, 1992). See also Barzilai, Yuchtman-Yaar, & Segal, 1994. 7. Especially instructive was Labor MK Yaacobi’s transformation, from championing electoral reform as the single most important reform (together with rejecting direct elections), to becoming a firm supporter and an initiator of a direct election bill. See Yaacobi, 1989a, 1990a,b,c, 1991. 8. Rabin had already raised the idea of government system reform in the 1970s (Weiss 1983, 1989). 9. Quoted from Mifleget Ha’avoda, “Protocol Miluli,” December 23, 1990, Israel Democracy Institute Archive, p. 6. See also Harish, 1991. 10. The bill was withdrawn after one of its initiators (Landau) became a harsh opponent of direct election and a champion of PM government, and after the other

288

NOTES TO CHAPTER SIX

(Netanyahu) became a deputy minister, and was thus ineligible to submit private member bills. 11. According to Allon (1995), opinion polls that showed Shamir losing a contest with Rabin led Shamir to reject reform. In an opinion poll conducted in May 1990, 60.6 percent claimed they would prefer Labor with Rabin as chairman to Likud with Shamir, should these two parties be the only ones competing in the elections. Dahaf, telephone poll no. 218, May 1990, Dahaf Archive. 12. In the readings when the bill would have passed without their help, the faction MKs either supported the reform bill or abstained. In the January 1992 second reading—in which all votes were crucial—all of its three MKs voted in support of reform. 13. Sarid, in retrospect, admitted that support of the bill originated in “almost opportunistic considerations” (Ben Porat, 1997, p. 122). 14. For an alternative reform proposal that was formulated by a Mapam member, see Yatsiv, 1991. 15. In the third reading, when his vote was not crucial, he abstained while his two colleagues maintained their support. 16. Such amendments—already suggested by NRP at the time of the first reading—were adopted before the bill returned to the plenary in March 1992: postponing the implementation of reform, requiring that a new government would face a vote of investiture, and allowing an absolute majority (rather than a supermajority) to oust the PM. 17. Rabbi Shach, who gave his blessing for the establishment of Shas in 1984, was enraged over the absence of two Shas MKs. This incident was a milestone in the process of the alienation between Rabbi Shach and Shas. 18. Not completely outside the spirit of reform, a Tehiya MK championed an increase in the legal threshold. Moledet leader, Rehavam Ze’evi (1990), while rejecting direct election and blaming the leadership for the ills of the political system, did propose some reforms of his own, like reducing the number of MKs and Government ministries. 19. In a study conducted on focus groups on the eve of the Stinky Trick, the CFI’s image was indeed that of an apolitical group of concerned people. Tamir, Cohen, Ya’acobson, Machleket Hamechkar “Shinuy Shitat Hamimshal Beyisrael: Ikarey Mimtsaim, Maskanot Vehamlatsot” [Reform of the Government System in Israel: Main Findings, Conclusions and Recommendations], March 19, 1990, Israel Democracy Institute Archive. 20. Hermann (1995) claimed that these groups influenced the polity not only by promoting reform, but also by increasing awareness of the demand for accountability and the importance of citizen-based political activities. She claimed that the public campaign influenced voting behavior, making it more instrumental and less ideological. 21. One exception (limited in scope) was the activity of the settlers lobby at the beginning of 1992, which successfully convinced some right-wing politicians (espe-

NOTES TO CHAPTER SIX

289

cially NRP MKs) to oppose reform, warning that its adoption would threat the vision of “Greater Israel” because it could lead to an electoral victory of the left (Neuman, 1992). 22. The following section is based mainly on Allon, 1995; Bechor, 1996. 23. It is estimated that the CFI collected millions of dollars during 1988–1989. Its success created suspicion about its motives, which several reform opponents used in their attacks on the CFI. (For more details see chapter seven.) 24. Reichman, the CFI chairman, was even selected as “Media Person of the Year 1989” by the Israeli Association for Public Relations. 25. Support for adopting a constitution rose by only 3.6 percent, from 63.6 percent to 67.2 percent (Yedioth Aharonoth, January 28, 1988). 26. Tnu’at Ratz, Yeshivat Hamo’etsa, June 4, 1989, Lavon Institue, p. 41. 27. Huka Leyisrael,“Protocol Yeshivat Hava’ad Hatsiburi,” June 6, 1990. Tsaban Personal Archive. 28. CFI declared immediately after the adoption of the direct election bill that it would fight to promote electoral reform and a bill of rights. While during the thirteenth Knesset term CFI indeed tried to promote these reforms, it did so with much less zeal than in its campaign for government system reform. 29. Especially prominent among the hunger strikers was Avi Kadish, an anonymous citizen who became a “media hero” (Goren, 1990). 30. Hatnu’a Leshinui Shitat Hamimshal, “Hatnu’a Leshinui Shitat Hamimshal: Ye’adim Vedarchey Pe’ula,” n.d., Israel Democracy Institute Archive. 31. Indeed, the MGRI received impressive media coverage of its campaign to speed up government system reform legislation in April–July 1991. Its attempt to organize a mass demonstration on the day that it declared a deadline for the passage of the bill, however, drew only a few hundred demonstrators. 32. For example, the MGRI published ads that were supposed to put “positive” pressure on Likud MKs to support the reform bill, such as “Tzachi Hanegbi cannot be bought,” “Ruby Rivlin will struggle for the law he proposed.” Pro-reform MKs took part in its June 1991 demonstration. 33. The transformation of the MGRI was expressed in the ad it published after the reform bill was adopted (Ha’aretz, March 26, 1992). While it maintained its popular image by printing the names of dozens of its activists, and mentioning the hundreds of thousands of citizens who signed its petition, it also thanked the movements that supported reform, even the four MKs who initiated and pushed for reform legislation. After the bill passed, the movement waned, without achieving its other goals such as electoral reform and a bill of rights. 34. For example, toward the end of 1991, dozens of the mayors (including many Likud affiliated mayors) signed a petition that called on the Likud to support reform. 35. For example, at the beginning of May 1990, the mayors announced a halfday strike to enable the municipal government workers to participate in a mass demonstration.

290

NOTES TO CHAPTER SIX

36. At the time of the Stinky Trick, the head of the Anti-Defamation League, Abe Foxman, claimed that most American Jews support reform and warned, “Under the current system, Israel will lose its respect in the Diaspora. If the current system continues, there is a danger that Israel will also lose support” (Ma’ariv, April 9, 1990). An ad signed by prominent Jewish leaders called for electoral reform that would decrease the powers of the small parties (Ha’aretz, June 5, 1990). 37. The research population included those who had PhDs and professors (even those without a PhD) in Israeli universities. Sixty-one percent agreed with the claim that “It is desirable to change the Israeli government system.” Direct election of the PM was preferred by a plurality of experts: 30 percent chose it as the first preference among six possible alternatives, and additional 11 percent as a second preference. Direct election was also preferred over the two suggested versions of PM Government alternative. See Abraham Diskin, “Seker Doar Shel Amdot Anshey Hauniversitaot Benose Shinuy Shitat Hamimshal,” August 1990, Israel Democracy Institute Archive. 38. Ibid., p. 9. 39. Ibid., p. 4. 40. See: Dayan, 1987; Doron, 1988; Feldman, 1987; Gabizon, 1987; Procaccia, 1987; Tzimuki, 1987. 41. After the four MKs presented their joint proposal, the president of IDI, Carmon, harshly criticized it and suggested the alternative of PM government. He also collected signatures from academics for an ad that rejected the adoption of direct elections. But he was cautious to keep the IDI’s name out of the ads in order to leave it out of the propaganda battle. 42. Susser, who took part in writing the chapter on government system reform in the CFI draft constitution, even presented it in Parliamentary Affairs (Susser, 1989) as an innovative system that should be considered by other democracies because it combines the best of both worlds, presidential and parliamentary. 43. Shamir used experts’ claims to legitimize his opposition in his letter to the members of the party’s central committee and in his speech in the central committee gathering. 44. In a collection of eighty-four columns on the issue from Ha’aretz daily newspaper, published between 1989 and March 1992, forty-three, written by sixteen different writers, supported reform and thirty-eight, written by thirty writers, opposed it (three were balanced or neutral). A look at a wider collection that includes columns published in three additional dailies (Yedioth Aharonoth, Ma’ariv, and Hadashot) gives the same impression of a balanced stage. 45. See Ha’aretz, editorials: March 20, 1990, April 6, 1990, April 9, 1990, June 12, 1991, October 2, 1991, December 20, 1991, January 2, 1992, March 20, 1992. 46. The most prominent among the reformers was Rubinstein, who between 1989 and March 1992 published at least sixteen columns in Ha’aretz, nine in Yedioth Aharonoth, and two in Ma’ariv. 47. See “Yoman Ma’ariv,” Ma’ariv, December 23, 1990, June, 12, 1991, December 22, 1991, January 9, 1992, March 19. 1992; “Tguvot Hayom,” Yedioth Aharonoth,

NOTES TO CHAPTER SIX

291

May 28, 1990, December 24. 1990, June, 11–12, 1991, December 23, 1991, March 19, 1992. 48. See Jerusalem Post, editorials: January 4, 1990, April 24, 1990, June 19, 1991, July 18, 1991, September 19, 1991, October 9, 1991, January 25, 1991, December 31, 1991, March 17, 1992, March 20, 1992. 49. For a list of newspaper columns that related to the draft constitution, see Rahat, 2000, p. 274, f113. 50. In an opinion poll conducted in September 1984, 33.5 percent supported adopting a presidential regime while 62.7 percent opposed it. See Dahaf, Seker Da’atKahal no. 723, September 1984, Dahaf Archive. In an opinion poll conducted at the end of 1986, 85 percent expressed support for reform, but only 22 percent were interested in a presidential regime while 63 percent were interested in a change within the framework of the existing regime. When asked to select their preferred reform, 45 percent chose a reform that would decrease the number of parties and result in a decrease of their influence on the political process; 19 percent chose electoral reform while 13 percent preferred the empowerment of the PM (Shapira et al. 1987, pp. 173, 175). In light of these opinions, direct election should have been presented (as it actually was) as a solution to the problem that was identified as the main one—the pressure of the small parties. 51. Opinion polls from the end of 1988 and up to March 1992 found, again and again, that a large majority supported reform. Although some opinion polls were ordered by interest-driven forces, who may have manipulated results, results from a variety of sources demonstrate that support for reform was indeed high. In December 1988, 80.9 percent supported direct election (Ha’aretz, December 29, 1988). In May 1990, 85.4 percent supported direct election (Dahaf, Seker Telephoni no. 218, May 1990. Dahaf Archive). In June 1991, a majority of voters of all different parties supported direct election, ranging from 90 percent of Labor’s voters to 53 percent of the religious parties’ voters (Jerusalem Post, July 3, 1991). In polls conducted in September 1990 and March 1991, 76.9 percent and 78.9 percent supported direct election (Teleseker, “Seker Amdot Hatsibur March 1991 Clapey Hatsa’at Chok Bechira Yeshira Lerashut Hamemshala, March 27, 1991, Tsaban Personal Archive). In a poll conducted on July 23–30, 1991, 71 percent supported direct election (Jerusalem Post, July 7, 1991). A poll conducted in December 1991 found support of more than 80 percent (Ma’ariv, December 22, 1991). In a poll conducted in March 1992, 68 percent supported the claim that direct election is a direct or indirect solution to the problems of Israel (Ha’aretz, March. 6, 1992). 52. Public opinion at the time of the Stinky Trick era supported many versions of reform, not a particular one. In a poll conducted at the beginning of April 1990, 60.4 percent supported a reform that would determine that the PM would be the head of the largest Knesset faction; 27.5 percent opposed it. See Tsevet Mechkar Veskarim [Skarim—Research and Survey LTD.], Seker Da’at Kahal—Amadot Politiyot, Doch Mesakem, “Skarim,” April 1990, Israel Democracy Institute Archive. Another poll conducted at the same time found that 80 percent supported electoral reform and 78 percent supported direct election of the PM. See Dahaf, Seker Bazak no. 212, April 3–4, 1990, Dahaf Archive.

292

NOTES TO CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN. THE STAGES OF THE REFO RM PRO CESS AND OVERCOMING THE BARRIERS 1. For the claims against the adoption of direct election that appeared at that early stage, see Doron, 1987, 1988a,b; Schweitzer, 1987; Tzadok, 1988a,b. 2. See, for example, Galnoor, 1990; Ginossar, 1990a; Ha’aretz, editorial, March 20, 1990; Rubinstein, 1990c,d; Samet, 1990a. 3. MKs, even reformers such as Rubinstein, harshly criticized these expressions. 4. It was also claimed that the attitudes and behaviors of protesters threaten democracy and that the suggested various “magical cures” would not improve the functioning of the system (Ginossar, 1990b). Another criticism was of the “antidemocratic bleeding heartedness” of the protesters, who were not ready to invest the necessary effort to change the system from within (Preuss, 1990). 5. An independent hunger striker, lawyer Eliad Shraga, continued his strike for eighty days. He then chose to focus on judicial action against corruption and the misdoings of government, and established the Movement for Quality Government in Israel. 6. Immediately after the direct election bills passed the preliminary reading, Carmon tried to put the PM government proposal on the agenda (Carmon, 1990b). After the April 1990 mass gathering, the IDI attempted to mobilize support for this proposal. It published newspapers ads as well as the results of an opinion poll according to which 61 percent of the public supported its alternative reform proposal. The IDI tried to convince the MGRI to support its proposal, and cooperated with it by conducting a public debate in which direct election and PM government were discussed side by side. 7. For example, there was a suggestion to let the Knesset select one of several options that would be recommended by an independent committee, or to oblige the Knesset to address and even legislate on the basis of the proposals of the independent committee. 8. For similar claims by other supporters and initiators of direct election, see Lynn, 1990; Tsiddon, 1990b; Weiss, 1990a,b. 9. Additional government system reform bills were put forth for a preliminary reading at the time of the first reading’s deliberations on the four reform bills (May 1990). Landau’s proposal for PM government and an additional version of direct election passed a preliminary reading, while another two direct election bills were rejected. 10. In response to a petition, Labor’s semijudicial intraparty organ found that voting procedures were not conducted according to party regulations. Only the decision of those who petitioned to refrain from requesting a new vote, in order not to cause damage to the party that already waived the reform banner, kept the decision valid. 11. Between the first and second readings, direct election was on the CLJC’s agenda in 33 out of 157 sessions (21 percent); in 30 of these it was the central or

NOTES TO CHAPTER SEVEN

293

exclusive issue of deliberations. From the time that the joint bill was formulated, the rhythm increased, and the bill was discussed in 30 out of 103 sessions (29.1 percent) that were conducted until the bill was returned to the plenum. 12. The CLJC deliberated the bill twice after it was formally transferred to the plenum, on December 9 and 30. In the first of these meetings a proposal to withdraw the bill back to the committee (and thus delay legislation) was raised twice, but rejected by large majorities. 13. On November 24, the CFI and the MGRI petitioned the court. At the beginning of December, a similar petition was submitted by a group of MKs that included three initiators of the bill and the NRP representative in the CLJC (HCJ 5379/91, 5563/91). On December 10, Labor submitted a petition of its own. Corfo, to counteract, submitted a petition that demanded returning the bill to the CLJC to prepare it for a repeated first reading, claiming that the legislation of the bill did not follow the proper procedures. See MK Chaim Corfo Versus the Knesset Speaker and Others, Chok Yesod Hamemshala, vol. 5, KA. Corfo withdrew his petition after the court clarified that it would refrain from dealing with it until after the adoption of the bill (HCJ 5665/91). 14. Pictures of central committee members who declared support for direct election appeared in the CFI’s full-page ads that were published in weeklies and daily newspapers. On the eve of the gathering, an ad with the names of hundreds of central committee members who declared support for direct election appeared. 15. A journalist investigation exposed that the CFI failed to submit annual financial reports to the Associations’ registrar (Berkovitch, 1991). In response, the CFI submitted financial reports on its activities in former years to all leaders of the party groups in the Knesset. 16. The leader of the MGRI, Kadish, responded to Corfo’s allegations about the financial misconduct of the pressure groups in a harsh and priggish manner, claiming purity and honesty as opposed to Corfo’s misconduct (Hadashot, December 11, 1991). In a letter to the editor (Ha’aretz, December 12, 1991), Kadish argued: “How does Corfo dare, with his personal glorious record of being responsible for the disgusting legislation of party financing, with the fines and condemnations of the State Comptroller on their financial activities and their ‘official’ trips to recruit donations for the party—how does he dare to talk about finances and public honesty?” See also Corfo, 1991b; Reichman, 1991. 17. Shamir’s rejection was expressed formally in a letter sent to the central committee members about a month before the gathering. The letter was accompanied with the opinions of two experts: a copy of a newspaper column (Galnoor, 1991) and a report by Yehezkel Dror. 18. Unlike Labor, Likud surrendered to the pressures of small parties and refrained from presenting the PM government proposal to the members of the central committee. 19. Tzomet left the governing coalition in response to the decision of Likud to reject reform.

294

NOTES TO CHAPTER SEVEN

20. As the second reading approached, the CFI and the MGRI published joint ads intended to encourage support from those who could be the weakest links: NRP and FPZI and three individual Likud MKs. Pictures of these MKs appeared in the ads under the title “This can be their finest hour” (Ha’aretz, December 30, 1991). Ads reprinting Likud’s obligation to Tzomet to promote reform also appeared at the time of the deliberations (Ha’aretz, January 6, 92). 21. Five additional MKs either expressed mixed feelings or refrained from referring to reform in general. 22. For such an early assessment, see Shapira, 1989. 23. The decision to withdraw the bill, taken on January 13, 1992, was supported by sixty MKs and rejected by fifty-four. Three coalition members who supported Article 3 supported this proposal, one abstained, and all of the Shas MKs voted this time for its withdrawal. Against it, only two who did not support Article 3 joined the rejection against withdrawing the bill. 24. The pivotal NRP conditioned its support of the bill on the postponement of its implementation. Its representative also rejected the suggestion to divide the bill and clarified that the other option would be to leave the bill in the CLJC with the promise that its legislation would continue in the next Knesset. 25. Labor successfully used the “spirit” of direct election in its campaign for the 1992 elections, using Rabin’s personal popularity to mobilize support for the party. 26. It was also the case that Likud’s central committee had already selected its candidates for the next Knesset, which increased the probability that its MKs would fail to follow the official party line of rejecting reform. The commitment of Labor MKs to reform increased after Rabin was selected as chairman, and they were especially pressured to support it because the selection of candidates for the next Knesset list was still ahead. With a selectorate of party members who, like the wider public, mostly supported reform, it was unwise for Labor MKs to breach party discipline. 27. Because the bill had clear majority support, Hadash MKs allowed themselves to vote against it (and not to abstain or be absent) while Mapam MK Tsaban abstained this time (his vote for the bill was crucial in January). 28. Seven MKs who supported reform in January were also absent, but this seems to be a result of pairing rather than an expression of rejection. 29. There were claims that the reform proposal contained elements (such as electoral system change) that required its passage with the support of an absolute majority, but this claim fell on deaf ears and was not put to the test of the Supreme Court. 30. Lynn, the CLJC chairman, claimed (retrospectively) that he deliberately set the timing of the vote to exploit these conditions (Krivine, 1992). 31. A similar claim can be found in CFI, 1991, p. 8. 32. Quoted from Mifleget Ha’avoda, Protokol Miluli Meyeshivat Mercaz Hamiflaga, December 23, 1990, pp. 33–34. MK Ramon presented a similar analysis. See ibid., p. 28.

NOTES TO CHAPTER NINE

295

CHAPTER EIGHT. THE ISRAELI CASE STUDIES IN A HISTO RICAL-COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE 1. A similar pattern can be identified even earlier, in the GZ demonstrations of a reformist spirit during 1951–1955, when it was a distinguished, prominent second party (Rahat, 2001a). 2. Ben-Gurion, a central actor in the politics of reform of the 1950s, showed through his actions—his attempt to establish a party whose platform would solely include electoral reform; his involvement in establishing pro-reform pressure groups; his support for the initiative to conduct a referendum on electoral reform—that he understood that a wider set of actors would likely help in reform promotion (Rahat, 2001a). 3. This claim is based on a simplistic notion of a two-party competition in a twoparty system, which takes place under majoritarian influences. 4. The ultraorthodox parties rejected reform when they were in a weak position, and not only after they had captured the pivotal position. Within the large and central parties that supported reform there were those who preferred the status quo. This preference stemmed from several reasons: first, the fear that district elections or the personal element would hurt their chances for reselection, as individuals; second, different estimations of the parties’ benefits from the existing system. CHAPTER NINE. THE POLITICS OF REGIME STRUCTURE REFO RM IN ESTABLISHED DEMO CRACIES: A CROSS-NATIONAL COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE 1. The analysis is based mainly on the following studies. In the case of New Zealand: Boston, 1987; Boston et al., 1996; Denemark, 2001; Goff, 1993; Ingle, 1995; Jackson & McRobie, 1998; Levine & Roberts, 1993, 1994a,b; Nagel, 1994; Temple, 1995; Vowels, 1995. In the Japanese case: Babb, 1996; Christensen, 1994; Jain, 1995; Reed & Thies, 2001; Shiratori, 1995; Wolfe, 1995. In the Italian case: Donovan, 1995, 1996; Ginsborg, 1996; Hine, 1996; Katz, 1996, 2001; Morlino & Tarchi, 1996; Parker, 1996; Sidoti, 1993. 2. Denemark (2001) suggests a collection of evidence: decline in party membership and partisan identity; decline in citizens’ trust in parties and parliament; decline in turnout in elections and in voters’ feelings of efficacy; increase in the volatility of the vote; increase in voting for small parties and in strategic voting. 3. Several indications of public dissatisfaction with the political system and the LDP were identified: the LDP’s defeat in the 1989 elections for the upper chamber; a decrease in voter turnout in the 1992 elections for the lower chamber; and the LDP’s failure to win a majority in the lower chamber in the 1993 elections. However, these were not clear-cut messages: after the 1989 defeat, the LDP won majorities in the 1990 elections for the lower chamber, and in the 1992 elections for the higher chamber. The 1993 defeat did not stem from a massive decline in support for LDP candidates, but more from the success of some of the incumbents defectors to be reelected in their districts under a different party label.

296

NOTES TO CHAPTER NINE

4. Norris (1995b) and Sakamoto (1999), while recognizing variance, tried to generalize about the long-term developments that characterized the cases when reform was adopted. This attempt was not very successful. First, in their inventory lists there are generalizations that sometimes—as they admit—are relevant in only part of the cases, like corruption scandals that characterized Italy and Japan but not New Zealand. Second, some generalizations are quite ambivalent, and there is no attempt to check whether they do not describe cases of other democracies that did not adopt reform. 5. In the 1978 and 1981 elections, the two large parties won the lowest level of support since 1935, but their representation stayed almost intact and the third party, Social Credit, won very poor representation: one seat in the 1978 elections with 16.1 percent of the votes and two in 1981 with 20.7 percent of the votes. In the 1984 elections, its support decreased to 7.6 percent, but it maintained its two seats, while a new third party, New Zealand Party, won 12.3 percent of the votes but no seat. 6. The division of support and rejection of reform among peak groups painted such a picture when business, employers, and farmers associations were identified with preservation, while the federation of unions supported reform. 7. The claim relates to the “perceived amount of change” rather than simply the amount of change since it would be unrealistic to attribute superior abilities to predict the future to the actors, especially when we deal with the adoption of multifaceted mixed member systems. 8. Katz (1996, 2001) described it as an impossible aspiration to combine the British system—a stable and replaceable government, based on strong parties—and the American nonparliamentary system—based on personal accountability and weak parties. For example, the repeal of preference vote in the1991 referendum was contrary to antipartisan logic and the goal of increasing personal accountability. 9. The separate Maori representation, an additional traditional element, was preserved against the recommendations of the Royal Commission (who thought that PR was sufficient to ensure Maori representation). 10. The criticism of the mixed system in its classical (West German) version claims that the system is complex and that voters therefore misuse it to express their preferences; that it creates two types of MPs who have a differentiated status and prestige and who function differently; that the personal element is absent in the system as the vote in SMDs is a de facto partisan one (Bogdanor, 1993). Sartori (1999) claims that mixed systems make parties’ behavior schizophrenic because they have to convince voters to vote strategically and nonstrategically at the same time. He also claims that those methods not only fail to lead to a balanced tradeoff between governability and representation, but instead combine, to transpose Shugart & Wattenberg (2001a,b), the worst of both worlds. 11. Shugart & Wattenberg (2001b) indeed claim that specific features of reform are influenced by the nature of the existing system and the local political context. Thus, in New Zealand, a closed-list system was adopted to preserve the power of the parties. In Japan, factions can still be relevant in the struggle over the allocation of candidacies in both multimember districts’ lists and SMDs. In Italy, the system allows

NOTES TO CHAPTER NINE

297

small parties to survive in the framework of the multiparty alliances due to the blackmail capacity that the system grants them. 12. PM Craxi (Socialist Party), who was much more popular than his party, suggested adopting a presidential system. This proposal—which raised much resistance as well as suspicion about his personal motives—demonstrated that even at the core of the political system there was growing criticism about the functioning of the Italian partitocracy. It also pushed those reformers who were unhappy with Craxi, or his proposal for government system reform, to invest their efforts into promoting electoral reform. 13. In the final readings in both chambers, the representatives of the government parties and the Northern League supported electoral reform; the Social Democrats— who supported a two-round, majoritarian system—abstained; and the Greens, the Net, and the two extremes, the neo-Fascists and Communist Renovation, rejected it (Katz, 2001). The impact of reformist pressures was apparent in a similar manner in the final reading in the Israeli case, when reform passed with little opposition, but a relatively higher rate of absentees. 14. In Ireland, hegemonic reformist moves—led by the governing party—failed twice after the people rejected electoral reform in two referendums in 1959 and 1968 (Gallagher, 1996). 15. Vowels (1995) claims—a claim that fit well with Shugart’s (2001) diagnosis—that because New Zealand had the purest Westminster regime and—unlike Australia, the United States, and Canada—lacked consensual elements to restrain the development of an “elected dictatorship,” it was more vulnerable to reform pressures than other Anglo-Saxon countries. 16. An analysis of voting patterns in the 1993 referendum found a high correlation between party identity and voting on reform. Yet it was also found that voters were motivated not only by partisan, group, or economic interests, but additional motivations that concerned their values and political stands. The reform would not have passed if a substantial minority of those identified with the National Party, who firmly rejected reform, had not supported it. These voters were motivated by their stands in regard to the characteristics of the system—such as their determination to improve accountability, representation, and consensus (Lamare & Vowels, 1996). 17. Sartori (1986, 1999) distinguishes between majoritarianism and PR according to the level of their effect on voters and politicians. Majoritarian systems are characterized as having a high effect, and PR systems as having a low one. From this perspective, the more the system is majoritarian, the stronger the vested interests of the successful parties in the system. 18. Jackson & McRobie (1998) argue that although Labor ruled for only six years in the 1949–1984 period, it did not tend to support reform because it always felt that it was close enough to winning government. Only its failure to win the majority of seats in the 1978 and 1981 elections—even though it won a plurality of the votes— motivated it to consider including the issue of reform in its platform. 19. Weaver (2001, pp. 559–565) suggested five scenarios in which parties are expected to press for reform in majoritarian settings:

298

NOTES TO CONCLUSION

A. Ruling elites are convinced that majoritarian elections will threaten their future rule because of developments in voting patterns or affiliated developments, such as urbanization and the widening of suffrage. Such developments led most countries in Continental Europe to adopt PR in the first decades of the twentieth century. As already noted, this scenario does not describe the context of reform in the 1990s. B. A party or parties that suffered from majoritarianism win a temporary majority that enables them to reform the system. This scenario is improbable because the threshold in majoritarian systems is so high that a majority is unlikely to be seen as temporary. C. Pressure by small parties at the time of minority government rule. Such pressure was activated by the Liberal Party in Britain in the 1970s and put reform on the agenda, but was far from sufficient for its promotion. D. Part of a wider reform package. Such a package enabled the penetration of electoral reform into the political agenda in Britain and New Zealand. The British case (so far) demonstrates that the promotion of other reforms is preferred and perceived as sufficient for demonstrating a reformist spirit. E. Loss of control by the ruling elites over the issue of electoral reform, which can happen when the system loses trust and legitimacy. This scenario describes the actual developments in New Zealand. 20. For a systematic distinction between various factors that can lead established parties to promote reform, see Reed & Thies, 2001; Shugart & Wattenberg, 2001b. 21. Opinion polls indicated that the stands of the Japanese MPs changed in a two-stage process (Reed & Thies, 2001). At the beginning of reform promotion, support for the existing system declined, from majority support in 1984 to 23 percent in 1989; but support for the mixed member system was still low, rising from 20 percent in 1984 to 30 percent in 1989. In 1993, there was already majority support for a mixed system (55 percent), while only 12 percent maintained support for the old single nontransferable vote system. 22. Until the 1990s, Italy seemed to be different in this respect, when a group of parties—the Christian Democrats, Socialists and their smaller allies—had vested interests in the PR system that ensured their continued joint rule while preserving the (large) minority status of the Communists. CONCLUSION 1. Dunleavy & Margetts (1995) suggest a theoretical model, which is based on majoritarian conditions and identifies a situation in which electoral reform suppose to occur out of partisan interests. In the best case, this model can explain the penetration of reform into the agenda under majoritarian conditions. It cannot predict active and effective continued support of one of the two large parties for reform. 2. Uncertainty is substantially reduced when dealing with majoritarian systems, where it is quite clear to a vast majority of incumbents, from both large and regional parties, that the system works on their behalf.

Bibliography

ARCHIVES CONSULTED Bet Berl Archive, Bet Berl Bet Jabotinski, Tel Aviv Corfo, Chaim, Personal Archive Dahaf Archive, Dahaf Institute, Tel Aviv Giv’at Haviva, Hashomer Hatsair Archive, Givat Haviva Knesset Archive, Jerusalem Landau, Uzi, Personal Archive Lavon Institute for Labor Movement Research, Tel Aviv State Archive, Jerusalem Tsaban, Yair, Personal Archive Yad Tabenkin, Hakibbutz Hameuchad Archive, Ramat Efal SUPREME COURT VERDICTS [HEBREW] HCJ 98/69. Aharon. A. Bergaman vs. the Minister of Finance and Others, Takdin. HCJ 761/86. MK Muhamad Mi’ari and Others vs. the Knesset Speaker and Others. Takdin. HCJ 142/89; 172/89, Laor Movement and Others vs. the Knesset Speaker and Others. Takdin. HCJ 1601/90; 1602/90; 1603/90; 1604/90. Lawyer Meshulam Shalit and Others vs. Shimon Peres and Others. Takdin. HCJ 5251/91. Chuka Lemedinat Yisrael and Others vs. the Knesset Speaker and Others, Collection on Chok Yesod Hamemshala, vol. 5, Knesset Archive. HCJ 5379/91; 5563/91. Rubinstein and Others vs. the Knesset Speaker. Collection on Chok Yesod Hamemshala, vol. 6, Knesset Archive. HCJ 5665/91. Corfo vs. the Knesset Speaker and Others. Collection on Chok Yesod Hamemshala, vol. 5, Knesset Archive.

299

300

BIBLIOGRAPHY

DAILY NEWSPAPERS AND WEEKLIES CONSULTED Al Hamishmar Davar Ha-Ir Ha’aretz Hadashot Hamodi’a Ha’olam Haze

Hazofeh Jerusalem Post Ma’ariv New York Times Washington Post Yated Ne’eman Yedioth Aharonoth REFERENCES

Allon, G. (1988a, November 17). Samchuto hamusarit shel hanasi [The moral authority of the president]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. Allon, G. (1988b, December 12). Hakash sheshavar et gav hanasi [The straw that broke the president’s back]. Ha’aretz, p. 11. Allon, G. (1992a, January 6). Ha’ikar hanitsachon [The essence is victory]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Allon, G. (1992b, January 14). Hakrav ha’acharon al hachok [The last battle on the law]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Allon, G. (1992c, February 20). Te’udat gmar lamechokekim [A diploma for the legislators]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Allon, G. (1995). Bechira yeshira [Direct election]. Tel Aviv: Bitan. Almond, G. A. (1973). Approaches to developmental causation. In G. A. Almond, S. C. Flanagan, & R. J. Mundt (Eds.), Crisis, choice, and change (pp. 1–42). Boston: Little Brown. Amir, R. (1997). Prime ministerial government in Israel: Continuity and change. Paper presented at the Conference on Structural and Behavioral Aspects of Democracy, University of Haifa and Israel Democracy Institute, Jerusalem, Israel. Andeweg, R. B. (1997). Institutional reform in Dutch politics: Elected prime minister, personalized PR, and popular veto in comparative perspective. Acta Politica, 32, 227–257. Andrain, C. F., & Apter, D. E. (1995). Political protest and social change. New York: New York University Press. Andrews, J. T., & Jackman, R. W. (2005). Strategic fools: Electoral rule choice under extreme uncertainty. Electoral Studies, 24, 65–84. Arian. A. (1990). Politika umishtar beyisrael [Politics and government in Israel]. Tel Aviv: Zmora-Bitan. Arian. A. (1998). The second republic: Politics in Israel. Chatham, NJ: Chatham House. Arian, A., & Amir, R. (1997). Habechirot habaot: Be’ezo shita nivchar? [The next elections in Israel: How should we vote?]. Jerusalem: Israel Democracy Institute. Aridor, Y. (1972, July 31). Ptsatsat zman begahal [Time bomb in Gahal]. Ha’aretz, p. 11.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

301

Arieli Horowitz, D. (1993). Bemavoch halegitimatsia: Mishaley am beyisrael [The labyrinth of legitimacy: Referendum in Israel]. Tel Aviv: Israel Democracy Institute and Hakibbutz Hameuchad. Avineri, S. (1992, January 29). Pious fallacy of electoral reform. Jerusalem Post, p. 6. Avnon, D. (2000). Mishal am be’idan hamahapecha hamishtarit [Referendum in the era of direct elections]. Politika, 5, 27–45. Babb, J. (1996). The origins and nature of Japanese electoral reform. Representation, 33, 155–161. Bachrach, P., & Baratz, M. S. (1963). Decisions and nondecisions: An analytical framework. American Political Science Review, 57, 632–642. Bader, Y. (1979). Haknesset veani [The Knesset and I]. Jerusalem: Edanim. Bader, Y. (1988, November 14.). Iskot psulot [Faulty deals]. Ma’ariv, p. 15. Banting, K. G., & Simeon R. (1985). Introduction: The politics of constitutional change. In K. G. Banting & R. Simeon (Eds.), Redesigning the state: The politics of constitutional change in industrial nations (pp. 1–29). Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Barkai, Y. (1971, November 25). Ezo hi shitat habechirot haretsuya leyisrael? [Which is the desirable electoral system for Israel?] Davar, p. 18. Barnea, N. (1988, August 3). Haprofesor koes [The professor is angry]. Koteret Rashit, 296, 46–49. Barzilai, G. (1992). Democratia bemilchamot: Machloket vekonsensus beyisrael [Democracy in wartime: Conflict and consensus in Israel]. Tel Aviv: Sifriat Poalim. Barzilai, G. (1998). Hegemonia shiputit, kituviut miflagtit veshinuy chevrati [Judicial hegemony, party polarization and social change]. Politika, 2, 31–51. Barzilai, G., Yuchtman-Yaar, E., & Segal, Z. (1994). Bet hamishpat ha’elyon be’ain hachevra hayisraelit [The Israeli supreme court and the Israeli public]. Tel Aviv: Papyrus. Baumgartner, F. R., & Jones, B. D. (1994). Attention, boundary effects, and largescale policy change in air transportation policy. In D. A. Rochefort & R. W. Cobb (Eds.), The politics of problem definition: Shaping the policy agenda (pp. 50–66). Kansas: University Press of Kansas. Bawn, K. (1993). The logic of institutional preferences: German electoral laws as a social choice outcome. American Journal of Political Science, 37, 965–989. Bechor, G. (1996). Chuka leyisrael [Constitution for Israel]. Or Yehuda: Ma’ariv. Beilin, Y. (1996). Te’una ushma bechira yeshira shel rosh hamemshala [An accident by the name of direct election for the prime minister]. In G. Doron (Ed.), Hamahapecha ha’electoralit (pp. 199–206). Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuchad. Ben Chorin, Y. (1990, February 9). Hademokratia holechet feiffen [Democracy is going down]. Ma’ariv, Weekend Magazine, pp. 6–10. Ben Porat, S. (1997). Sichot im yossi sarid [Conversations with Yossi Sarid]. Tel Aviv: Sifriat Poalim.

302

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Benziman, U. (1974, July 22). Shinuy shitat habechirot: hadiyun hamachri’a [Electoral reform: The decisive deliberation]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. Berg, S. (1989, January 29). “Who’s a Jew” is but a symptom of the Israeli-diaspora division. Jerusalem Post, p. 4. Berkovitch, E. (1991, December 6). Me’eifo kol hakesef [Where has all the money come from]. Hadashot (Supplement), pp. 9, 11, 51. Beze, A. (1973, January 1). Hatsedek hagamish [The flexible justice]. Ha’aretz, p. 12. Biger, G. (1985). Al bechirot ironiyot-ezoriyot be’eretz yisrael hamandatorit [On municipal-district elections in mandatory palestine]. Medina, Mimshal Veyachasim Beinleumiyim, 24, 63–85. Blalock, H. M. (1982). Conceptualization and measurement in the social sciences. London: Sage. Bloch, D. (1970, October 21). Sikuy kalush leshinuy shitat habechirot [Slim chance for electoral reform]. Davar, p. 3. Bogdanor, V. (1981). The people and the party system. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bogdanor, V. (1988). Introduction, Conclusion. In V. Bogdanor (Ed.), Constitutions in democratic politics (pp. 1–13, 380–386). Aldershot: Gower. Bogdanor, V. (1993). The electoral system, government and democracy. In E. Sprinzak & L. Diamond (Eds.), Israeli democracy under stress (pp. 83–106). Boulder: Lynne Rienner. Boix, C. (1999). Setting the rules of the game: The choice of electoral systems in advanced democracies. American Political Science Review, 93, 609–624. Boston, J. (1987). Electoral reform in New Zealand: The report of the royal commission. Electoral Studies, 6, 105–114. Boston, J., Levine, S., McLeay, E., & Roberts, N. S. (1996). Why did New Zealand adopt German-style proportional representation? Representation, 33, 134–140. Bowler, S., Donovan, T., & Karp, J. A. (2006). Why politicians like electoral institutions: Self interest, values or ideology? Journal of Politics, 68, 433–446. Bracha, B. (1987, August 23). Chuka achshav! [Constitution now!]. Ha’aretz, p. 8. Brams, S. (1989, August 8). Mirkachat shrirutit [An arbitrary mixture]. Ha’aretz, p. 15. Brichta, A. (1977). Demokratia vebechirot [Democracy and elections]. Tel Aviv: Am Oved. Brichta, A. (1982a). Ilu shinu et shitat habechirot [If the electoral system would have been changed]. Migvan, 72, 59–63. Brichta, A. (1982b). Ha’arachat shinuy shitat habechirot lerashey harashuyot hamekomoyot [Estimation of the reform of the electoral system for the heads of municipalities]. Jerusalem: Ministry of Interior. Brichta, A. (1988a). Forty years of struggle for electoral reform in Israel, 1948–88. Middle East Review, 21, 18–26.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

303

Brichta, A. (1988b, February 17). Madu’a leshanot et shitat habechirot? [Why reform the electoral system]. Ha’aretz, p. 12. Brichta, A. (1988c, December 26). Ratsuy ve’efshari—shinuy matun beshitat habechirot [Possible and desirable—a moderate change to the electoral system]. Ha’aretz, p. 11. Brichta, A. (1991). Proposed electoral reform in Israel. The Jewish Journal of Sociology, 33, 83–95. Brichta, A. (1998). New premier-parliamentary system in Israel. Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 555, 180–192. Brichta, A. (2001). Political reform in Israel: The quest for stable and effective government. Brighton, UK: Sussex Academic Press. Brichta, A., & Zalmanovitch, Y. (1983). Hakshayim be’arichat reformot mosadiyot beyisrael [The difficulties of implementing institutional reforms in Israel]. In A. Brichta (Ed.), Haratsuy mishtar nesiuti beyisrael? (pp. 12–18). Haifa: The Faculty of Social Sciences and Mathematics, Haifa University. Brichta, A., & Zalmanovitch, Y. (1986). The proposals for presidential government in Israel. Comparative Politics, 19, 57–68. Browne, E. C., & Hamm, K. E. (1996). Legislative politics and the paradox of voting: Electoral reform in Fourth Republic France. British Journal of Political Science, 26, 165–198. Bueno de Mesquita, E. (2000). Strategic and nonpolicy voting: A coalitional analysis of Israeli electoral reform. Comparative Politics, 33, 63–80. Butler, D. E. (1963). The electoral system in Britain since 1918. Oxford: Clarendon. Butler, D. E. (1984). Reflections on the electoral debate in Britain. In A. Lijphart & B. Grofman (Eds.), Choosing an electoral system (pp. 225–230). New York: Praeger. Cairns, A. C. (1985). The politics of constitutional renewal in Canada. In K. G. Banting & R. Simeon (Eds.), Redesigning the state: The politics of constitutional change in industrial nations (pp. 95–145). Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Carmon, A. (1989, April 11). Lifney Shetachlof She’at Ratson Lereforma [Before the goodwill for reform elapses]. Ha’aretz, p. 13. Carmon, A. (1990a). Introduction. In A. Scheman (Ed.), Electoral reform in Israel: An abstract (p. 1). Tel Aviv: Israel Diaspora Institute. Carmon, A. (1990b, April 2). Bechira yeshira kepopulism [Direct elections as populism]. Ha’aretz, p. B4. Carstairs, A. M. (1980). A short history of electoral systems in Western Europe. London: Allen & Unwin. Caspi, D., & Limor, Y. (1986). Hametavchim [The mediators]. Tel Aviv: Am Oved. Castels, F. G. (1994). The policy consequences of proportional representation: A sceptical commentary. Political Science, 46, 161–171.

304

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Catt, H. (1996). The other democratic experiment: New Zealand’s experience with citizens’ initiated referendum. Political Science, 48, 29–47. Central Bureau of Statistics. (1996). Shnaton statisti leyisrael 1996 [Statistical yearbook of Israel], No. 47. Jerusalem. Christensen, R. V. (1994). Electoral reform in Japan: How it was enacted and changes it may bring. Asian Survey, 43, 589–605. Cohen, Y. P. 1949. Chuka leyisrael, hatsa’a vedivrei hesber [A constitution for Israel, a proposal and explanations]. Hakirya: Mo’etset Hamedina. Constitution for Israel. (1987). Chuka leyisrael [A constitution for the state of Israel]. Constitution for Israel. (1988). A constitution for the state of Israel. Constitution for Israel. (1991). Be-’92 bocharim yeshirot et rosh hamemshala [In 92 we directly elect the prime minister]. Tel Aviv: Chuka Leyisrael. Constitution, Law and Justice Committee (CLJC). Protocols of meetings, Knesset Archive. Corfo, C. (1991a, November 26). Bechira yeshira: Halikud mitlabet/Neged [Direct elections: Likud is swaying/opposes]. Ma’ariv, p. 10. Corfo, C. (1991b, December 15). Me’eifo ba hakesef, ken lachkor [Where does the money come from, Yes to Investigate]. Ma’ariv, p. 12. Criddle, B. (1992). Electoral systems in France. Parliamentary Affairs, 45, 108–116. Dawes, R. M. (1988). Rational choice in an uncertain world. San Diego: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Dayan, A. (1987, September 11). Moridim et haglimot [Taking off the robes]. KolHa’Ir, p. 25–29, 86. Denemark, D. (2001). Choosing MMP in New Zealand: Explaining the 1993 electoral reform. In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp. 70–95). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Diskin, A. (1979). He’arot achadot al interessim ve’ekronot bavicuach al shinuy shitat habechirot [A few comments on interests and principles in the debate over electoral reform]. Medina, Mimshal Veyachasim Beinleumiyim, 14, 53–66. Diskin, A. (1988). Bechirot ubocharim beyisrael [Elections and voters in Israel]. Tel Aviv: Am Oved. Diskin, A. (1989, August 8). Lehanhig mimshal rosh memshala [To introduce a prime ministerial regime]. Ha’aretz, p. 15. Diskin, A. (1999). The new political system of Israel. Government and Opposition, 34, 498–515. Diskin, A., & Diskin, H. (1991). Bechira yeshira shel rosh hamemshala [Changing the system of government in Israel: The direct vote for the prime minister]. Dapey Reka Lekov’ey Mediniyut, no. 5. Jerusalem: Jerusalem Institute for Israel Studies. Diskin, H., & Diskin, A. (1988). Keytsad bocharim [A guide to change—the voting system]. Jerusalem: Jerusalem Institute for Israel Studies.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

305

Diskin, H., & Diskin, A. (1995). The politics of electoral reform in Israel. International Political Science Review, 16, 31–45. Donovan, M. (1995). The politics of electoral reform in Italy. International Political Science Review, 16, 47–64. Donovan, M. (1996). Electoral reform in Italy. Representation, 33, 141–147. Doron, G. (1987, November 19). Mochrim ez betor chuka [Selling a goat as a constitution]. Al Hamishmar, p. 9. Doron, G. (1988, January 15). Atifa reyka metochen [A wrapping empty of content]. Davar, p. 16. Doron, G. (1989, August 8). Shinuy leshem shinuy [Reform for the sake of reform]. Ha’aretz, p. 15. Doron, G. (1990a, February 26). Chasamim babechirot einam mavtichim yetsivut [Barriers in elections do not guarantee stability]. Ha’aretz, p. B3. Doron, G. (1990b). Electoral reform in a vail of uncertainty: The case of Israel. International Problems, 29, 44–58. Doron, G. (1996). Hahigayon hapoliti shel reformot beshitot bechirot democratiyot [The political logic of democratic electoral systems]. In G. Doron, Hamahapecha ha’electoralit (pp. 54–78). Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuchad. Doron, G., & Kay, B. (1995). Reforming Israel’s voting schemes. In A. Arian & M. Shamir (Eds.), The election in Israel 1992 (pp. 299–320). Albany: State University of New York Press. Doron, G., & Maor, M. (1989). Chasamey knisa lapolitica hayisraelit [Barriers to entry into Israeli politics]. Tel Aviv: Papyrus. Dror, Y. (1989). Livnot medina [To build a state]. Jerusalem: Jerusalem Institute for Israel Studies. Dror, Y. (1996). Hayecholet limshol cakriterion Al [The ability to govern as a super criterion]. In G. Doron, Hamahapecha ha’electoralit (pp. 149–162). Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuchad. Dryzek J. S. (1996). From irrationality to autonomy: Two sciences of institutional design. In K. E. Soltan & S. L. Elkin, The constitution of good societies (pp. 57–75). University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press. Duchacek, I. D. (1973). Power maps: Comparative politics of constitutions. Santa Barbara: American Bibliographical Center—Clio Press. Dunleavy, P., & Margetts, H. (1995). Understanding the dynamics of electoral reform. International Political Science Review, 16, 9–29. Duverger, M. (1965). Political parties: Their organization and activity in the modern state. New York: Wiley. Duverger, M. (1986). Duverger’s law: Forty years later. In B. Grofman & A. Lijphart (Eds.), Electoral laws and their political consequences (pp. 69–84). New York: Agathon.

306

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Eban, A. (1985). Foreword. In S. Sager, The parliamentary system of Israel (p. ix). Syracuse: Syracuse University Press. Edelman, M. (1995). Israel. In C. N. Tate & T. Vallinder (Eds.), The global expansion of judicial power (pp. 403–415). New York: New York University Press. Eisenstadt, S. N. (1985). The transformation of Israeli society: An essay in interpretation. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson. Farrell, D. M. (2001). The United Kingdom comes of age: The British electoral reform ‘revolution’ of the 1990’s. In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixedmember electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp. 521–541). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Feldman, A. (1987, August 14). Chuka o chagorat shever [Constitution or hernia belt]. Hadashot Shel Shabat, p. 13. Fitzmaurice, J. (1996). The politics of Belgium: A unique federalism. London: Hurst. Freedman, R. O. (1989). Religion, politics, and the Israeli elections of 1988. Middle East Journal, 43, 406–422. Friedman, J. (Ed.). (1995). The rational choice controversy. New Haven: Yale University Press. Gabizon, R. (1987, September 23). Chuka leyisrael? [A constitution for Israel?]. Kol Yerushalayim, pp. 22–23. Galili, L. (1990, May 11). Natshu et gan havradim [They deserted the Rose Garden]. Ha’aretz, p. B2. Gallagher, M. (1996). Ireland: the referendum as a conservative device? In M. Gallagher and P. V. Uleri (Eds.), The referendum experience (pp. 86–105). London: St. Martin’s. Galnoor, I. (1982). Steering the polity: Communication and politics in Israel. Beverly Hills: Sage. Galnoor, I. (1989, August 8). Inyan yechasi [A relative issue]. Ha’aretz, p. 15. Galnoor, I. (1990, March 26). Bechira yeshira: Lo, toda [Direct elections: No, thanks]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Galnoor, I. (1991, November 20). Vekach tigbar hasachtanut [And this way blackmail will increase]. Ha’aretz, p. B4. Galnoor, I. (1996). Hamashber bama’arechet hapolitit bayisraelit: Hamiflagot cagorem mercazi [The crisis in the Israeli political system: The parties as a central factor]. In M. Lissak & B. Knei-Paz (Eds.), Yisrael likrat shnat 2000 (pp. 144–175). Jerusalem: Magnes. Galnoor, I. (1999). Hashlachot milchemet yom hakipurim: Hamifne bapolitika hapnimit [The implications of the Yom Kippur War: The turn in internal politics]. In C. Ofaz & Y. Bar-Siman-Tov (Eds.), Milchemet yom hakipurim: Mabat mechadash (pp. 165–180). Jerusalem: Davis Institute. Galnoor, I., & Hofnung, M. (Eds.). (1993). Mishtar medinat yisrael (The regime of the state of Israel). Jerusalem: Nevo.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

307

Gardus, Y., & Eini, Y. (1986). Yitsug ezori baknesset beshitat bechirot yachasit [Regional representation in the Knesset in a proportional electoral system]. Ir Ve’ezor, 4, 5–21. Geffen, M. (1989, January 3). Ga’aguim leshilton chazak [Longing for a strong rule]. Al Hamishmar, p. 6. Ginossar, S. (1977, January 17). Hama’avak leshinuy shitat habechirot [The struggle for electoral reform]. Davar, p. 7. Ginossar, S. (1988, June 7). Ma’avak tsodek beshitot psulot [A just struggle by unfit methods]. Davar, p. 8. Ginossar, S. (1990a, March 21). Al tafri’a le’atsmecha, rosh hamemshala [Don’t trouble yourself, prime minister]. Davar, p. 7. Ginossar, S. (1990b, April 13). Hatehorim vehamesucanim [The pure and the dangerous]. Davar, p. 7. Ginsborg, P. (1996). Explaining Italy’s crisis. In S. Gundle & S. Parker (Eds.), The new Italian republic (pp. 19–39). London: Routledge. Goell, Y. (1988, November 20). Rethinking electoral reform. Jerusalem Post, p. 4. Goff, P. (1993). Voting for change: New Zealand’s referendum on voting systems. The Parliamentarian, 74, 84–87. Goldberg, G. (1989, January 6). Rak mishtar nesiuti yo’il kan [Only a presidential regime would be useful here]. Hadashot, p. 1. Goldberg, G. (1992). Hamiflagot beyisrael: Memiflagot hamon lemiflagot electoraliyot [Political parties in Israel: From mass parties to electoral parties]. Tel Aviv: Ramot. Goldberg, G. (1998). Religious Zionism and the framing of a constitution for Israel. Israel Studies, 3(1), 211–229. Goldberg, G. (1999a). Giborim mekomiyim meod [Very local heroes]. Panim, 9, 9–16. Goldberg, G. (1999b). Tsmichato veyetsivuto shel mishtar demokrati [The growth and the stability of a democratic regime]. Tarbut Demokratit, 2, 41–61. Goldberg, G., & Barzilai, G. (1987). Chulshot hama’arechet hapolitit beyisrael [The weaknesses of the political system in Israel]. In B. Susser (Ed.), Hama’arechet hapolitit beyisraell (pp. 5–42). Tel Aviv. Gonen, S. (Ed.). (1974). Chevra chadasha: Likrat shinuy shitat habechirot [New society: Towards electoral reform]. Tel Aviv: Hatnu’a Lebechirot Ishiyot Ve’ezoriyot Beyisrael. Goren, D. (1990). Aliyato venefilato (?) shel cochav tsameret [The rise and fall (?) of a superstar]. Otot 90, 119, 6–7. Gozansky, T. (1988, January 13). Chuka, chevra vepolitikaim mitchacmim [Constitution, society and “wise guy” politicians]. Zo Haderech, pp. 9, 14. Green, D. P., & Shapiro, I. (1994). The pathologies of rational choice theory. New Haven: Yale University Press.

308

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Gundle, S., & Parker, S. (Eds.). (1996). The new Italian republic. London: Routledge. Gutmann, E. (1979). Miflagot vemachanot—yetsivoot veshinuy [Parties and camps— stability and change]. In M. Lissak and E. Gutmann (Eds.), Hama’arechet hapolitit hayisraelit (pp. 122–170). Tel Aviv: Am Oved. Gutmann, E. (1988). Israel: Democracy without a constitution. In V. Bogdanor (Ed.), Constitutions in democratic politics (pp. 290–308). Aldershot: Gower. Gutmann, E. (1989, August 8). Personaliyut mugzemet [Overpersonification]. Ha’aretz, p. 15. Gutmann, E. (1994). Shinuy shitat habechirot [Electoral reform]. In C. Hershkovits (Ed.), Reforma constitutotzionit beyisrael vehashlachoteha. Jerusalem: Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs. Gvirtz, Y. (1991, April 17). Rekviem letnu’at hamechaa [A requiem for the protest movement]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 13. Hague, R., Harrop, M., & Breslin, S. (1998). Comparative government and politics. 4th ed. London: Macmillan. Har Zahav, R. (Ed.). (1990). Direct elections of the prime minister. Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs and Constitution for Israel. Har Zahav, Ra’anan. (1992, February 12). Tikunim konstitutsyonim [Constitutional amendments]. Ha’aretz (Special Supplement), pp. 20–24. Harish, M. (1991, June 13). Ratsim lema’an ha-Likud [Running for Likud]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Hattis-Rolef, S. (1999). The domestic fallout of the Yom Kippur War. Israel Affairs, 6, 177–194. Hazan, R. (1996). Presidential parliamentarism: Direct popular election of the prime minister, Israel’s new electoral and political system. Electoral Studies, 15, 21–37. Hazan, R. Y., & Rahat, G. (2000). Representation, electoral reform and democracy: Theoretical and empirical lessons from the 1996 elections in Israel. Comparative Political Studies, 33, 1310–1336. Hermann, T. (1995). The rise of instrumental voting: The campaign for political reform. In A. Arian & M. Shamir (Eds.), The election in Israel 1992 (pp. 275–297). Albany: State University of New York Press. Hermann, T. (1996). Do they have a chance? Protest and political structure of opportunities in Israel. Israel Studies, 1, 144–170. Herzog, C. (1974, April 5). Tsa’ad rishon lehachlama: Shinuy shitat habechirot [First step for recovery: Electoral system reform], Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 5. Herzog, C. (1997). Derech chaim [Living story]. Tel Aviv: Yedioth Aharonoth. Hine, D. (1996). Italian political reform in comparative perspective. In S. Gundle & S. Parker (Eds.), The new Italian republic (pp. 311–325). London: Routledge. Horowitz, A. (1990a). Az ma yesh lanu hayom [So what do we have today]. Politika, 35, 18–21.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

309

Horowitz, A. (1990b, April 27). Trufot kesem leshita chola [Magic cures for a sick system]. Kol Yerushalayim, p. 15. Horowitz, D., & Lissak, M. (1978). Origins of the Israeli polity: Palestine under the mandate. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Horowitz, D., & Lissak, M. (1989). Troubles in utopia: The overburdened polity of Israel. Albany: State University of New York Press. Huntington, S. P. (1991). The third wave: Democratization in the late twentieth century. London: University of Oklahoma Press. IDEA. (1997). Voter turnout from 1945 to 1997: A global report on political participation. 2nd ed. Stockholm: Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance. Inbal, L. (1991, July 5). Chuts melahatsit et atsmi, asiti hacol [Except for setting myself on fire, I did everything]. Yedioth Aharonoth, Weekend Magazine, pp. 16–19. Ingle, S. (1995). Electoral reform in New Zealand: The implications for Westminster systems. The Journal of Legislative Studies, 1, 76–92. Institute for Public Opinion Research. (1949). Bechirot vemiflagot be’eyney toshvey yisrael [Elections and parties from the point of view of the Israeli citizens]. Jaffa. Jackson, K. (1994). Problems of democracy in a majoritarian system: New Zealand and emancipation from the Westminster model? In L. D. Longley (Ed.), Working Papers on Comparative Legislative Studies (pp. 335–347). Appleton: Lawrence University. Jackson, K., & McRobie, A. (1998). New Zealand adopts proportional representation. Aldershot: Ashgate. Jain, P. C. (1995). Electoral reform in Japan: Its process and implications for party politics. The Journal of East Asian Affairs, 9, 402–427. Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs. (1992a). Major constitutional reform: Knesset passes direct election law. Iggeret, 7, 1. Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs. (1992b). History of the direct election law at a glance. Iggeret, 7, 2. Joseph, D. (1975). Yona vecherev [In quest of peace]. Israel: Masada. Kaase, M., & Newton, K. (1995). Beliefs in government. Vol. 5. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kadish, A. (1991a, August 9). Lo niten lignov lanu et hamedina [We won’t let anyone steal the state from us]. Ma’ariv, p. 13. Kadish, A. (1991b, December 30). Ha’emet hachashuva meculan [The most important of all truths]. Davar, p. 9. Kaiser, A. (1997). Types of democracy: From classical to new institutionalism. Journal of Theoretical Politics, 9, 419–444. Katz, R. S. (1996). Electoral reform and the transformation of party politics in Italy. Party Politics, 2, 31–54. Katz, R. S. (2001). Reforming the Italian electoral law, 1993. In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp. 96–122). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

310

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Kaufman, C. (1991). Hashinuy she’alul lehorid et halikud [The change that can take Likud down]. Be’eretz Yisrael, 217–218, 12. Keeler, J. T. S. (1993). Opening the window for reform: mandates, crises and extraordinary policy-making. Comparative Political Studies, 25, 433–486. Kenig, O., Rahat, G., & Hazan, R. Y. (2005). The political consequences of the introduction and the repeal of the direct elections for the prime minister. In A. Arian & M. Shamir (Eds.), The elections in Israel 2003 (pp. 33–61). New York: Transaction Books. Kingdon, J. W. (1989). Congressmen’s voting decision. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Kingdon, J. W. (1995). Agendas, alternatives and public policies. 2nd ed. New York: HarperCollins. Kislev, R. (1971a, August 13). Shitat habechirot ha’ezoriyot Z”L [The blessed memory of the district electoral system]. Ha’aretz, p. 10. Kislev, R. (1971b, December 24). Haliberalim nasogu mebechirot ezoriyot [The Liberals withdrawal from district elections]. Ha’aretz, p. 17. Kislev, R. (1972, October 20). Hama’avak al achuz hachasima [The struggle over the electoral threshold]. Ha’aretz, p. 14. Kislev, R. (1974, July 5). Halochamim leshinuy shitat habechirot [The warriors for electoral reform]. Ha’aretz, p. 14. Kislev, R. (1991a, June 11). Ha’iyum shel Yair Levi [The threat of Yair Levi]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Kislev, R. (1991b, December 31). Hachok lechisul hashita [The law for the extermination of the system]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Klein, K. (1973). Al hahagdara hamishpatit shel hamishtar haparlamentari ve’al haparlamentarism hayisraeli [On the legal definition of the parliamentary regime and on Israeli parliamentarism]. Mishpatim, 5, 308–339. Knesset records. Jerusalem: Government Printer, 1949–1992. Korn D. (1994). Zman be’afor [Time in gray]. Tel Aviv: Zmora-Bitan. Korn, D., & Shapira, B. (1997). Co’alitstyot [Coaltion politics in Israel]. Tel Aviv: Zmora-Bitan. Kortz, G., & Lehman-Wilzig, S. (1994). Harchavat ma’agal hachutz-parliamentarism beyisrael: Emdot hatzibur clapey ma’arachot chalufiyot vehashimush bahem [The widening of the extraparliamentarian circle in Israel: Public stands toward alternative systems and their use]. Medina, Mimshal Veyachbal, 39, 31–60. Krivine, D. (1988a, December 4). To: My fellow Jews in the diaspora. Jerusalem Post, p. 4. Krivine, D. (1988b, December 16.). Crying out for change. Jerusalem Post, p. 8. Krivine, D. (1992, April 3). Uriel Lynn: Man of constitution bids farewell. Jerusalem Post, p. 5.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

311

Lamare, J. W., & Vowels, J. (1996). Party interests, public opinion and institutional preferences: Electoral system change in New Zealand. Australian Journal of Political Science, 31, 321–345. Landau, O. (1991, June 14). Kadish al ha-chok [Kadish over the law]. Ha’aretz, p. B2. Landau, P. (1988, November 4). On the side of the big battalions. Jerusalem Post, p. 6. Landau, U. (1991a). Lo lebechira yeshira, ken lechizuk rosh hamemshala [No to direct elections, yes to the empowerment of the prime minister]. Be’eretz Yisrael, 217–218, 11. Landau, U. (1991b, December 12). Bechira yeshira—lama ze ra [Direct elections— why it’s a bad thing]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Lavi, T. (1991, June 14). Hashita harga et hashinuy [The system killed the reform]. Ma’ariv, p. 1. Lehman-Wilzig, S. (1992). Mecha’a tziburit beyisrael 1949–1992 [Public protest in Israel 1949–1992]. Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University. Lehoucq, F. E. (1995). Institutional change and political conflict: Evaluating alternative explanations of electoral reform in Costa Rica. Electoral Studies, 14, 23–45. Levine, S., & Roberts, N. S. (1993). The New Zealand electoral referendum of 1992. Electoral Studies, 12, 158–167. Levine, S., & Roberts, N. S. (1994a). The New Zealand general election and electoral referendum of 1993. Political Science, 46, 40–69. Levine, S., & Roberts, N. S. (1994b). The New Zealand electoral referendum and general election of 1993. Electoral Studies, 13, 240–253. Lijphart, A. (1984). Democracies: Patterns of majoritarian and consensus government in twenty-one countries. New Haven: Yale University Press. Lijphart, A. (1987). The demise of the last Westminster system? Comments on the report of New Zealand’s royal commission on the electoral system. Electoral Studies, 6, 97–103. Lijphart, A. (1993). Israeli democracy and democratic reform in comparative perspective. In E. Sprinzak & L. Diamond (Eds.), Israeli democracy under stress (pp. 107–123). Boulder: Lynne Rienner. Lijphart, A. (1994). Electoral systems and party systems. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lijphart, A. (1998). Consensus and consensus democracy: Cultural, structural, functional and rational choice explanations. Scandinavian Political Studies, 21, 99–108. Lijphart, A. (1999). Patterns of democracy: Government forms and performance in thirtysix countries. New Haven: Yale University Press. Linz, J. L., & Valenzuela, A. (Eds.). (1994). The failure of presidential democracy. London: Johns Hopkins University Press. Longley, L. D. (1988). The politics of electoral reform in Great Britain and the United States. Parliamentary Affairs, 41, 527–535.

312

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Longley, L. D., & Olson, D. M. (Eds.). (1991a). Two into one: The politics and process of national legislative cameral change. Boulder: Westview Press Longley, L. D., & Olson, D. M. (1991b). The politics and process of national legislative cameral change, and Conclusions: Cameral change politics and process in three nations and beyond. In L. D. Longley & D. M. Olson (Eds.) Two into one: The politics and process of national legislative cameral change (pp. 1–41, 203–232). Boulder: Westview Press. Lutz, D. S. (1994). Toward a theory of constitutional change. American Political Science Review, 88, 355–370. Lynn, U. (1990, April 4). Livchor rosh memshala [To Elect a Prime Minister]. Ma’ariv, p. 12. Lynn, U. (1991a). Ha’am rotse leshanot et hashita [The people want to change the system]. Be’eretz Yisrael, 217–218, 13. Lynn, U. (1991b, November 26). Bechira yeshira: Halikud mitlabet/be’ad [Direct elections: Likud is swaying/in favor]. Ma’ariv, p. 10. Lynn, U. (interview). (1992a). Chok-yesod: Hamemshala [Basic law: The government]. Mishpat Vemimshal, 1, 165–173. Lynn, U. (1992b, February 25). Ani chozer habayta [I return home]. Ma’ariv, p. 13. Mackerras, M. (1994). Reform of New Zealand’s voting system 1985–1996. Representation, 32, 36–40. Magen, D. (1991, December 19). Ha’im halikud yachol [Can the Likud do it]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Margalit, D. (1974, March 29). Ha’etgar shebashita [The challenge in the system]. Ha’aretz (Saturday section), pp. 12–13, 45. Margalit, D. (1988, November 2). Achdut lelo tachlit [Unity with no purpose]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. McLeay, E. (1987). Towards a better democracy? Review essay of the ‘Report of the Royal Commission.’ Political Science, 39, 80–96. Medding, P. Y. (1988). Mosdot hashilton beshnat ha’atsmaut harishona [Government institutions in the first year of independence]. In M. Naor (Ed.), Shana rishona la’atzmaut 1948–1949 (pp. 69–86). Jerusalem: Yad Yitzhak Ben Zvi. Medding, P. Y. (1990). The founding of Israeli democracy 1948–1967. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Medding, Peter Y. (1999). From government by party to government despite party. Israel Affairs, 6(2), 172–208. Melamed, O., & Khalfon, D. (1992). Tafkid hatikshoret behitpatchut tnu’at hamecha’a leshinuy shitat hamimshal 13.3.90–12.6.90 [The role of the media in the development of the protest for government system reform]. Patuah, 1, 102–105. Morlino, L., & Tarchi, M. (1996). The dissatisfied society: The roots of political change in Italy. European Journal of Political Research, 30, 41–63.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

313

Mulgan, R. G. (1995). The democratic failure of single-party government: The New Zealand experience. Australian Journal of Political Science, 30, 82–96. Nagel, J. H. (1994). What political scientists can learn from the 1993 electoral reform in New Zealand. Political Science & Politics, 27, 525–529. Nedava, Y. (1975). Ma’amado vesamchuto shel nesi hamedina [The status and authority of the president of the state]. Molad, 7 (30), 46–55. Nedava, Y. (1983). Hadegem shel hamishtar hanesi’uti bearh”v ve’efsharut yisumo beyisrael [The model of the presidential regime in the U.S. and the possibility of its implementation in Israel]. In A. Brichta (Ed.), Haratsuy mishtar nesiuti beyisrael? (pp. 32–34). Haifa: Faculty of Social Sciences and Mathematics, Haifa University. Netanyahu, B. (1990a). Darush shinuy beshitat hamishtar [A reform in the regime system is necessary]. Be’eretz Yisrael, 203, 12. Netanyahu, B. (1990b, April 6). Leshanot et shitat hamimshal achshav [Reform the government system now]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Netanyahu, B. (1990c, December 23). ‘Ken’ lebechira yeshira—‘ken’ laklita [‘Yes’ to direct elections—‘Yes’ to absorption]. Ma’ariv, p. 10. Neuberger, B. (1991). Hamiflagot beyisrael [Political parties in Israel]. Tel Aviv: Open University of Israel. Neuman, A. (1991, June 21). Shinuy hashita mul hashki’a [System reform against the sunset]. Davar, p. 16. Neuman, A. (1992, January 1). Reforma bemalkodet [Reform in a trap]. Davar, p. 11. Nissim, M. (1995). Bechira yeshira shel rosh hamemshala—hirhur sheny [Direct election for the prime minister—a second thought]. Ha’umma, 32, 305–309. Nohlen, D. (1984). Changes and choices in electoral systems. In A. Lijphart & B. Grofman (Eds.), Choosing an electoral system (pp. 217–224). New York: Praeger. Norris, P. (Ed.). (1995a). The politics of electoral reform [Special Issue]. International Political Science Review, 16 (1). Norris, P. (1995b). Introduction: The politics of electoral reform. International Political Science Review, 16, 3–8. Norton, P. (1982). The constitution in flux. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Parker, S. (1996). Electoral reform and political change in Italy, 1991–1994. In S. Gundle & S. Parker (Eds.), The new Italian republic (pp. 40–56). London: Routledge. Pasquino, G. (1989). That obscure object of desire: A new electoral law for Italy. West European Politics, 12, 280–294. Peres, Y. (1989). Habechirot shehayu—mashmautan hachevratit vehapolitit [The social and political meaning of the last elections]. Mebefnim, 40, 293–300. Peres, Y. (1990). Machshava mesucanat o sicun mechushav? [A dangerous thought or a calculated risk?]. Politika, 33, 22–25.

314

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Peres, Y., & Yuchtman-Yaar, E. (1992). Trends in Israeli democracy. Boulder: Lynne Rienner. Peri, Y. (1989). Shinuy shitat hashilton beyisrael. [Government system reform in Israel]. Tel Aviv: IDI. Peters, G. (1996). Political institutions, old and new. In R. E. Goodin & H. D. Klingermann (Eds.), A new handbook of political science (pp. 205–220). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Preuss, T. (1990, April 26). Lalechet velehitlachlech; Lashevet velishbot [To go and get dirty; To sit and strike]. Davar, p. 7. Procaccia, U. (1987, October 16). Chuka achshav? [Constitution now?]. Ha’aretz, p. 13. Rader, M. (1988, December 19). Shtey kategoriot shel achuz chasima [Two categories of legal threshold]. Ha’aretz, p. 11. Rahat, G. (2000). Hapolitika shel hareforma bemivneh hamishtar beyisrael [The politics of reform of the Israeli regime structure]. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Jerusalem. Rahat, G. (2001a). Shitat habechirot 1948–1959: Mibrerat mechdal leshita meshuryenet [The electoral system 1948–1959: From default to an entrenched system]. Iyunim Bitkumat Israel, 11, 369–446. Rahat, G. (2001b). The politics of reform in Israel: How the Israeli mixed system came to be. In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp. 123–151). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Rahat, G. (2004). The study of the politics of electoral reform in the 1990’s: Theoretical and methodological lessons. Comparative Politics, 36, 461–479. Rahat, G. (2006). The politics of electoral reform abolition: The informed process of Israel’s return to its previous system. Political Studies, 54, 43–64. Rahat, G., & Hazan R. Y. (2005). Israel: The politics of an extreme electoral system. In M. Gallagher & P. Mitchell (Eds.), The politics of electoral systems (pp. 333–351). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Reed, S. R. (1998). Political reform in Japan: Combining scientific and historical analysis. Prepared for delivery at the conference on “Mixed” Electoral Systems, December 11–13, 1998, Newport Beach, California. Reed, S. R., & Thies, M. F. (2001). The causes of electoral reform in Japan. In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp. 152–172). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Reichman, U. (1987a, September 17). Ze hazman lechuka [This is the time for a constitution]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Reichman, U. (1987b, October 22). Uvechol zot, chuka achshav [Nevertheless, constitution now]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. Reichman, U. (1989, January 4). Lif’amin, hachagiga nigmeret [Sometimes the party ends]. Hadashot, p. 14.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

315

Reichman, U. (1990a, December 21). Ein sicunim basicuy hazeh [There are no risks in this chance]. Davar, p. 17. Reichman, U. (1990b, December 24). Mema ata poched [What are you afraid of?]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Reichman, U. (1991, December 15). Me’efo ba hakesef, ein ma lachcor [Where does the money come from, nothing to investigate]. Ma’ariv, p. 12. Rochefort, D. A., & Cobb, R. W. (1994). Problem definition: An emerging perspective. In D. A. Rochefort & R. W. Cobb (Eds.). The politics of problem definition: Shaping the policy agenda (pp. 1–31). Kansas: University Press of Kansas. Rothblit, Y. (1991, July 19). Rak Kadish nishar [Only Kadish is left]. Hadashot (Hashavu’a), p. 13. Rubinstein, A. (1987). Trufa. Lo pele [A cure. Not a miracle]. Politika, 16, 28–29. Rubinstein, A. (1988a, December 12). Hechrachi leshanot hashita [It is necessary to reform the system]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. Rubinstein, A. (1988b, December 14). Mashber bamishtar [A crisis in the regime]. Ha’aretz, p. 11. Rubinstein, A. (1989, March 12.). Lilmod meha’iriot [To learn from the municipalities]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Rubinstein, A. (1990a, Fenruary 13). Be’ain memshala [When there is no government]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Rubinstein, A. (1990b, March 18.). Lehatsil demokratia memevazeha [To save democracy from its contemptors]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Rubinstein, A. (1990c, March 26). Letaken shita meya’eshet [To fix a desperate system]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Rubinstein, A. (1990d, March 27). Bechira yeshira: Davka ken [Direct elections: Exactly so]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Rubinstein, A. (1990e, April 4). Leachar yom chamishi hashachor [After black Thursday]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Rubinstein, A. (1990f, April 15). Shever politi vepitaron [A political break and a solution]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Rubinstein, A. (1990g, April 20). She’elot vetshuvot al ‘shinuy hashita’ [Questions and answers on ‘electoral reform’]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 17. Rubinstein, A. (1990h, April 29). Ee havana yesodit [A basic misunderstanding]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Rubinstein, A. (1990i, May 21). Tku’im nusach Weimar [Stuck in the Weimar formula]. Ha’aretz, p. B3. Rubinstein, A. (1990j, December 14). Choshvim neged, matsbi’im be’ad [Think against, vote for]. Yedioth Aharonoth (Saturday supplement), p. 7. Rubinstein, A. (1991, April 28). Ein mi sheyachlit veyevatse’a [There is no one who will decide and perform]. Ha’aretz, p. B1.

316

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Rubinstein, A. (1992, January 13). Harav Schach machlit shuv [Rabbi Schach decides again]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Rubinstein, A., & Medina, B. (1996). Hamishpat hakonstitutzioni shel medinat yisrael [Constitutional law in the state of Israel]. 5th ed., Vols. A,B. Tel Aviv: Schocken. Safrei, D. (1990). Ma mitbashel bamitbach shelanu? [What’s cooking in our kitchen?]. Amudim, 38, 214–215. Sager, S. (1985). The parliamentary system of Israel. Syracuse: Syracuse University Press. Sager, S. (1991, May 1). One small step toward reform. Jerusalem Post, p. 4. Sakamoto, T. (1999). Explaining electoral reform: Japan versus Italy and New Zealand. Party Politics, 5, 419–438. Sala, V. D. (1993). The Cossiga legacy and Scalfaro’s election: In the shadow of presidentialism? Italian Politics: A Review, 8, 34–49. Samet, G. (1987, August 13). Petach le’aliyat hashed-yode’a mi [Opening the door for the rise of god knows who]. Ha’aretz, p. 7. Samet, G. (1990a, March 23). Katsa nafsho ba’omrim shekatsa nafsho [He is fed up with those who say they are fed up]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Samet, G. (1990b, May 2). Ta’alumat ha’argazim [The mystery of the boxes]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Saragusti, A. (1987, November 18). Lif’amim ani margish ktsat groteski [Sometimes I feel a little grotesque]. Ha’oloam Haze, pp. 9–11, 32. Sarid, Y. (1990, April 19). Ani ve’ata [Me and you]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Sartori, G. (1986). The influence of electoral systems: Faulty laws or faulty methods? In B. Grofman & A. Lijphart (Eds.), Electoral laws and political consequences (pp. 43–68). New York: Agathon. Sartori, G. (1999). The party-effects of electoral systems. Israel Affairs, 6, 13–28. Schechter, S. L. (1985). Amending the United States constitution: A new generation on trial. In K. G. Banting & R. Simeon (Eds.), Redesigning the state: The politics of constitutional change in industrial nations (pp. 160–202). Toronto: University of Toronto Press, Scheman, A. (Ed.). (1989). Electoral reform in Israel (Part 2). Tel Aviv: Israel Diaspora Institute. Scheman, A. (Ed.). (1990a). Electoral reform in Israel: An abstract. Tel Aviv: Israel Diaspora Institute. Scheman, A. (Ed.). (1990b). Electoral reform in Israel: Part three (Part 3). Tel Aviv: Israel Diaspora Institute. Schnitzer, S. (1991, June 14). Hashita vehane’elam [The system and the unknown]. Ma’ariv, p. 12. Schwartz, N. L. (1994). Representation and territory: The Israeli experience. Political Science Quarterly, 109, 615–645.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

317

Schweitzer, M. (1987, September 3). Tzayadey hatsipor hakchula [Hunters of the blue bird]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. Schweitzer, M. (1989, January 2). Androgynus leyad hahege [Androgynus behind the wheel]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. Sha’ari, Y. (1960). Bechira ishit bemisgeret shitat habechirot hayahasit, [Personal election in the framework of the proportional electoral system]. Tmurot, 1, 16–18. Shamir, S. (1989, March 7). Koalitsia kebakashatcha [Coalition at your request]. Ha’aretz, p. 14. Shapira, B. (1989, January 13). Bechirot ‘92—shitot chadashot, totsaot efshariyot [The ‘92 elections—new systems, possible results]. Ha’aretz, p. B5. Shapira, B. (1996). Reformot electoraliyot beyisrael, 1949–1996 [Electoral reforms in Israel]. In G. Doron, Hamahapecha ha’electoralit (pp. 16–34). Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuchad. Shapira, R., & Susser, B. (1987). What do Israelis think of their political system. Israeli Democracy, 1 (Winter), 19–21. Shapira, R., Ben Yitzhak, S., Susser, B., & Tibon, S. (1987). Hashita hapolitit beyisrael—hemshechiyut o shinuy [The political system in Israel—continuity or change]. In B. Susser (Ed.), Hama’arechet hapolitit beyisraell (pp. 139–209). Tel Aviv. Sheffer, G, (1999a). From crisis to change: The Israeli political elites and the 1973 war. Israel Affairs, 6(1), 153–176. Sheffer, G. (1999b). Political change and party system transformation. Israel Affairs, 6(2), 148–171. Shira, B. (Ed.). (1977). Tnu’at shinuy memacha’a lemiflaga [Shinuy movement from protest to a party]. Shiratori, R. (1995). The politics of electoral reform in Japan. International Political Science Review, 16, 79–94. Shor, S. (1974). Shitat habechirot haretsuya bemedinat yisrael [The desirable electoral system for Israel]. Series of Conferences on Society and State Issues, no. 2, Hamachlaka Lehascala Shel Hakibbutz Ha’artzi. Shpinner, T. (1991, December 20). Mi sheyirtseh et Rabin yekabel et Sharon [He who wants Rabin will get Sharon]. Davar, pp. 5–7. Shugart, M. S. (1988, December 28). The pitfalls of electoral reform. Jerusalem Post, p. 4. Shugart, M. S. (2001). ‘Extreme’ electoral systems and the appeal of the mixed-member alternative. In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp. 25–51). Oxford: Oxford University Press, Shugart, M. S., & Carey, J. M. (1992). Presidents and assemblies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

318

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Shugart, M. S., & Wattenberg, M. P. (Eds.). (2001a). Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? Oxford: Oxford University Press. Shugart, M. S., & Wattenberg, M. P. (2001b). Mixed member electoral systems: A definition and typology, and Conclusion: Are mixed-member systems the best of both worlds? In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp 9–24, 571–596). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sidoti, F. (1993). Italy: A clean-up after the Cold War. Government and Opposition, 28, 105–114. Simon, H. A. (1957). Administrative behavior. New York: Free Press. Smith, H., & Smith, R. (1991, June 21). Will the real party leader please stand up. Jerusalem Post, p. 6. Sprinzak, E. (1986). Ish hayashar be’einav: Ilegalism bahevrah hayisraelit [Every man is right in his own eyes—Illegalism in Israeli society]. Tel Aviv: Sifriat Po’alim. Sprinzak, E. (1990, April 29). Ken lebechira yeshira [Yes to direct election]. Ha’aretz, p. B2. Sprinzak, E. (1991, December 27). Ha’im namshich linso’a bekircarot? [Will we continue to ride in carriages?]. Ha’aretz, p. B3. Sprinzak, E. (1992, March 16). Hacholi hayashan bamivneh chadash [The old sickness in a new form]. Ha’aretz, p. B4. Sprinzak, E., & Diamond, L. (1993). Introduction. In E. Sprinzak & L. Diamond (Eds.), Israeli democracy under stress (pp. 1–20). Boulder: Lynne Rienner. Sternhell, Z. (1990a, December 21). Hashochad hagadol mekulam [The largest bribe of all]. Ha’aretz, p. B2. Strassler, N. (1991a, November 8). Im mi lehitstalem [With whom to be photographed]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Strassler, N. (1991b, December 31). Sof laschita [An end to blackmail]. Ha’aretz, p. C1. Susser, B. (Ed.). (1987a). Hama’arechet hapolitit beyisrael [The political system in Israel]. Tel Aviv. Susser, B. (1987b). Hakdama [Preface] and Sicum vehatsa’a [Summary and a Proposal]. In B. Susser (Ed.), Hama’arechet hapolitit beyisrael (pp. 1–4, 210–257). Tel Aviv. Susser, B. (1989). ‘Parliadential’ politics: A proposed constitution for Israel. Parliamentary Affairs, 42, 112–122. Taagepera, R., & Shugart, M. S. (1989). Seats and votes. New Haven: Yale University Press. Tadmor, Y. (1974, March 22). Ein lidchot reforma beshitat habechirot [Electoral reform should not be postponed]. Davar, p. 11. Temple, P. (1995). Changing the rules in New Zealand. Political Quarterly, 66, 234–237.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

319

Thelen, K., & Steinmo, S. (1992). Historical institutionalism in comparative politics. In S. Steinmo, K. Thelen, & F. Longstreth (Eds.), Structuring politics: Historical institutionalism in comparative perspective (pp. 1–32). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Tsebelis, G. (1995). Decision making in political systems: Veto players in presidentialism, parliamentarism, multicameralism and multipartism. British Journal of Political Science, 25, 289–325. Tsiddon, Y. (1989, February 20). Iyum harepublika hashlishit [The threat of the Third Republic]. Ha’aretz, p. 9. Tsiddon Y. (1990a, April 3). Memshelet mashabey enosh [Human resources government]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Tsiddon, Y. (1990b, April 26). Rak hamechir ala [Only the price increased]. Ha’aretz, p. B1. Tsiddon, Y. (1990c, November 6). Mahi shitat mimshal tova? [What is a good government system?]. Ha’aretz, p. B4. Tsiddon, Y. (1991, December 25). Raful ve’ani, nimesu alenu hatargilim [Raful and I are tired of the tricks]. Ma’ariv, p. 16. Tsiddon, Y. (1991–1992). Atid erets-yisrael taluy (gam) beshinuy shitat hamimshal [The future of the land of Israel is (also) dependent upon government system reform]. Nekuda, 155, 26–29. Tversky, A., & Kahneman, D. (1982). Judgment under uncertainty: Heuristics and biases. In D. Kahneman, P. Slovik, & A. Tversky (Eds.), Judgement under uncertainty: Heuristics and biases (pp. 3–20). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Tzadok, C. (1988a, January 15). Yesh mukdam vemeuchar bachuka [There is early and late in a constitution]. Davar, p. 15. Tzadok, C. (1988b, January 22). Himur mesucan [A dangerous gamble]. Davar, p. 15. Tzadok, C. (1990, December 21). Malkodet lemifleget ha’avoda [A trap for the Labor party]. Davar, p. 13. Tzadok, C. (1992, January 17). Baruch shepatarnu min hachok hazeh [Good riddance to this law]. Davar, p. 17. Tzimuki, T. (1987, August 14). Lechem chuka [Bread and constitution]. Davar, p. 17. Tzimuki, T. (1992, January 1). Kmo etsem bagaron [Like a bone in one’s throat]. Davar, p. 9. Urieli, N., & Barzilay, A. (1982). Aliyata venefilata shel dash [The rise and fall of the democratic movement for change]. Tel Aviv: Reshafim. Vowels, J. (1995). The politics of electoral reform in New Zealand. International Political Science Review, 16, 95–116. Wallach, A. (1991, June 25). Lynn te’omo shel Kulas [Lynn, the twin of Kulas]. Davar, p. 3. Ward, H. (1995). Rational choice theory. In D. Marsh & G. Stoker (Eds.), Theory and methods in political science (pp. 76–93). New York: St. Martin’s.

320

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Weaver, K. R. (2001). Electoral rules and electoral reform in Canada. In M. S. Shugart & M. P. Wattenberg (Eds.), Mixed-member electoral systems: The best of both worlds? (pp. 542–569). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Weiss, S. (1983). Hayitronot shel yisum shita nesiutit beyisrael [The advantages of the implementation of a presidential system in Israel]. In A. Brichta (Ed.), Haratsuy mishtar nesiuti beyisrael? Haifa: Faculty of Social Sciences and Mathematics (pp. 6–11). Haifa: Haifa University. Weiss, S. (1987a, August 24). Hamlatsa lemishtar nesiuti [A recommendation for a presidential regime]. Davar, p. 7. Weiss, S. (1987b, September 13). Mi mefached memishtar nesiuti [Who’s afraid of a presidential regime]. Hadashot, p. 20. Weiss, S. (1988, December 2). Hamitosim sviv shinuy shitat habechirot [The myths surrounding electoral reform]. Kol Haifa, p. 11. Weiss, S. (1989, June 2). Hapitaron hashita hanesiutit (Bet) [The solution is the presidential system (b)]. Kol Haifa, p. 13. Weiss, S. (1990a, April 8). Tsara ezorit [Regional trouble]. Al Hamishmar, p. 7. Weiss, S. (1990b, April 11). Ha’erga leshinuy katofa’a mitologit [The yearning for change as a mythological phenomenon]. Davar, p. 7. Wiarda, H. J. (1991). Concepts and models in comparative politics: political development reconsidered—and its alternatives. In D. A. Rustow & K. P. Erickson (Eds.), Comparative political dynamics: Global research perspectives (pp. 32–53). New York: HarperCollins. Wieman, G. (1998). Medvar seker tirchak? Hasikur shel sikrey bechirot batikshoret hayisraelit [Be aware of opinion polls? The coverage of election opinion polls in the Israeli media]. In C. Fuchs & S. Bar-Lev (Eds.), Emet vaseker (pp. 123–145). Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuchad and Haifa University Press. Wolfe, E. L. (1995). Japanese electoral and political reform: Role of the Young Turks. Asian Survey, 35, 1059–1074. Wolfsfeld, G. (1988). The politics of provocation: Participation and protest in Israel. Albany: State University of New York . Wolfsfeld, G. (1993). The politics of provocation revisited: Participation and protest in Israel. In E. Sprinzak & L. Diamond (Eds.), Israeli democracy under stress (pp. 199–220). Boulder: Lynne Rienner. Working together for change. (1990, Fall). Israeli Democracy, 8–10. Yaacobi, G. (1989a, April 6.). Tyranny of the majority—or minority. Jerusalem Post, p. 4. Yaacobi, G. (1989b, December 27.). Slow strangulation of electoral reform. Jerusalem Post, p. 4. Yaacobi, G. (1990a, March 30). Rak shinuy shel shitat habechirot yatsil hademokratia [Only electoral reform will save democracy]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 12.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

321

Yaacobi, G. (1990b, April 17). Hashever hagadol ve’otsmey ha’einayim [The big break and those who close their eyes]. Ma’ariv, p. 10. Yaacobi, G. (1990c, December 16). Bazeh ashema hashita [In this the system is to blame]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 19. Yaacobi, G. (1991, July 9). Shinuy shitat ha-mimshal achshav [Government system reform now]. Ma’ariv, p. 12. Yaacobi, G., & Gera, E. (1975). Hachofesh livchor [The freedom to choose]. Tel Aviv: Am Oved. Yanai, N. (1982). Mashberim politiyim beyisrael [Political crises in Israel]. Jerusalem: Keter. Yanai, N., & Aronson, S. (1986). Bechirot 1984—mivchan lashita hapolitit hayisraelit [Elections 1984—a test for the political system in Israel]. Medina, Mimshal Veyachasim Beinleumiyim, 25, 47–90. Yassur, Y. (n.d). Constitution for Israel three years of activity. The Public Committee for a Constitution for the State of Israel. Yatziv, G. (1992, January 12). Sharsheret ha-ashlayot shel shinuy hashita [The chain of illusions of the system reform]. Al Hamishmar, p. 11. Yechezkeli, T. (1989, March 12). Im hakol hayachid shelcha tatsbi’a le-3 miflagot [With your single vote you will be voting for three parties]. Yedioth Aharonoth, p. 27. Yishai, Y. (1987). Kvutsot interess beyisrael [Interest groups in Israel]. Tel Aviv: Am Oved. Yishai, Y. (1998). Civil society in transition: Interest politics in Israel. Annals of the American Academy, 555, 147–162. Zalmanovitch, Y. (1998). Transitions in Israel’s policymaking network. Annals of the American Academy, 555, 193–208. Zamir, Y. (1987, August 28). Al hatsa’at hachuka [On the constitution proposal]. Ma’ariv, p. 11. Ze’evi, R. (1990). Hegia refesh ad nefesh [The mud reached the soul]. Moledet, 19, 1. Zimmerman, M. (1990, May 14). Hatipshim lomdim menisayon atsmam [The fools learn from their own experience]. Ha’aretz, p. B4. Zisman, E. (1989, March 23). Shinuy shitat hamishtar yifga bademokratia [Reform of the regime system will hurt democracy]. Ha’aretz, p. 11.

This page intentionally left blank.

Author Index

Bechor, G., 43, 96, 97, 98, 99, 120, 123, 163, 164, 169, 172, 181, 185, 187, 189, 282n10, 286n34, 289n22, 301 Beilin, Y., 171, 284n12, 301 Ben Chorin, Y., 283n1, 301 Ben Porat, S.. 133, 288n13, 301 Ben Yitzhak, S., 317 Benziman, U., 69, 302 Berg, S., 90, 302 Berkovitch, E., 170, 293n15, 302 Beze, A., 67, 302 Biger, G., 49, 302 Blalock, H. M., 269, 302 Bloch, D., 66, 280n7, 302 Bogdanor, V., 10, 23, 80, 104, 105, 296n10, 302, 308 Boix, C., 10, 17, 278n9, 302 Boston, J., 248, 249, 295n1 (chap. 9), 302 Bowler, S., 19, 302 Bracha, B., 165, 180, 302 Brams, S., 91, 302 Breslin, S., 32, 308 Brichta, A., 27, 43, 50, 78, 80, 105, 114, 125, 139, 279n1 (chap. 3), 282n12–13, 302, 303, 313, 320 Browne, E. C., 278n8, 303 Bueno de Mesquita, E., 10, 19, 277n4, 278n11, 303 Butler, D. E., 10, 303

Allon, G., 43, 98, 99, 108, 116, 153, 157, 174, 197, 201, 208, 282n15, 283n4, 286n34, 287n1, 288n11, 289n22, 300 Almond, G. A., 26, 300 Amir, R., 125, 139, 300 Andeweg, R. B., 24, 300 Andrain, C. F., 10, 300 Andrews, J. T., 278n9, 300 Apter, D. E., 10, 300 Arian. A., 42, 125, 280n11, 300, 305, 308, 310 Aridor, Y., 280n7, 300 Arieli Horowitz, D., 54, 301 Aronson, S., 82, 128, 321 Avineri, S., 285n22, 301 Avnon, D., 286n32, 301 Babb, J., 295n1 (chap. 9), 301 Bachrach, P., 9, 38, 301 Bader, Y., 54, 63, 67, 83, 216, 280n7, 301 Banting, K. G., 9, 10, 25, 30, 278n13, 301, 303, 316 Baratz, M. S., 9, 38, 301 Barkai, Y., 63, 301 Barnea, N., 166, 301 Barzilai, G., 58, 80, 81, 153, 287n4, 287n6, 301, 307 Barzilay, A., 64, 319 Baumgartner, F. R., 30, 301 Bawn, K., 14, 301

Cairns, A. C., 277n3 (chap. 1), 303 Carey, J. M., 139, 317

323

324

AUTHOR INDEX

Carmon, A., 90, 182, 292n6, 303 Carstairs, A. M., 10, 13, 14, 40, 48, 303 Caspi, D., 65, 93, 303 Castels, F. G., 242, 303 Catt, H., 239, 304 Christensen, R. V., 295n1 (chap. 9), 304 Cobb, R. W., 30, 301, 315 Cohen, Y. P., 49, 304 Corfo C., 133, 284n11, 285n18, 293n16, 299, 304 Criddle, B., 277n1 (chap. 1), 304 Dawes, R. M., 278n10, 304 Dayan, A., 290n40, 304 Denemark, D., 16, 256, 295n1–2 (chap. 9), 304 Diamond, L., 119, 302, 311, 318, 320 Diskin A., 15, 17, 21, 43, 61, 72, 80, 91, 92, 93, 106, 131, 139, 144, 173, 174, 204, 286n39, 290n37, 304, 305 Diskin H., 15, 21, 43, 80, 91, 92, 93, 106, 131, 139, 144, 171, 173, 174, 204, 286n39, 304, 305 Donovan, M., 19, 295n1 (chap. 9), 302, 305 Doron, G., 19, 27, 43, 48, 80, 82, 91, 114, 126, 130, 209, 278n11, 290n40, 292n1, 301, 305, 317 Dror, Y., 206, 286n31, 305 Dryzek J. S., 278n10, 305 Duchacek, I. .D., 13, 305 Dunleavy, P., 10, 13, 18, 20, 24, 136, 298n1, 305 Duverger, M., 277n2 (introduction), 305 Eban, A., 128, 306 Edelman, M., 153, 287n4, 306 Eini, Y., 105, 307 Eisenstadt, S. N., 13, 42, 58, 278n7, 306 Farrell, D. M., 10, 306 Feldman, A., 290n40, 306 Fitzmaurice, J., 277n3 (chap. 1), 306 Freedman, R. O., 90, 306 Friedman, J., 278n10, 306

Gabizon, R., 290n40, 306 Galili, L., 186, 306 Gallagher, M., 297n14, 306, 314 Galnoor, Y., 13, 42, 48, 58, 61, 66, 78, 81, 91, 98, 100, 152, 281n7, 292n2, 293n17, 306 Gardus, Y., 105, 307 Geffen, M., 182, 307 Gera, E., 43, 51, 56, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 321 Ginossar, S., 70, 96, 292n1, 292n4, 307 Ginsborg, P., 295n1 (chap. 9), 307 Goell, Y., 98, 116, 307 Goff, P., 242, 295n1 (chap. 9), 307, Goldberg, G., 58, 62, 80, 81, 147, 154, 176, 182, 279n6, 284n13, 307 Gonen, S., 65, 307 Goren, D., 167, 289n29, 307 Gozansky, T., 89, 161, 307 Green, D. P., 278n10, 307 Gundle, S., 252, 307, 308, 313 Gutmann, E., 42, 60, 61, 80, 128, 162, 173, 308 Gvirtz, Y., 168, 308 Hague, R., 32, 308 Hamm, K. E., 278n8, 303 Har Zahav, R., 116, 130, 165, 169, 192, 286n35, 287n1, 308 Harish, M., 287n9, 308 Harrop, M., 32, 308 Hattis-Rolef, S., 58, 308 Hazan, R., 9, 17, 106, 113, 115, 125, 137, 249, 308, 310, 314 Hermann, T., 89, 162, 166, 168, 176, 193, 288n20, 308 Herzog, C., 65, 85, 153, 287n3, 308 Hine, D., 295n1 (chap. 9), 308 Hofnung, M., 48, 78, 98, 100, 152, 281n7, 306 Horowitz, A., 119, 166, 186, 308,309 Horowitz, D., 13, 42, 49, 81, 309 Huntington, S. P., 10, 309 Inbal, L., 132, 165, 166, 309 Ingle, S., 242, 295n1 (chap. 9), 309

AUTHOR INDEX

Jackman, R. W., 278n9, 300 Jackson, K., 22, 254, 256, 295n1 (chap. 9), 297n18, 309 Jain, P. C., 295n1 (chap. 9), 309 Jones, B. D., 30, 301 Joseph, D., 56, 309 Kaase, M., 10, 22, 309 Kadish, A., 123, 168, 309 Kahneman, D., 278n10, 319 Kaiser, A., 14, 17, 18, 278n4, 309 Karp, J. A., 19, 302 Katz, R. S., 16, 295n1 (chap. 9), 296n8, 297n13, 309 Kaufman, C. 134, 172, 284n11, 310 Kay, B., 19, 27, 80, 209, 278n11, 305 Keeler, J. T. S., 23, 310 Kenig, O., 125, 310 Khalfon, D., 167, 175, 185, 312 Kingdon, J. W., 25, 26, 30, 32, 38, 54, 310 Kislev, R., 65, 66, 67, 121, 122, 310 Klein, K., 286n32, 310 Korn D., 82, 89, 116, 117, 126, 153, 286n40, 310 Kortz, G., 89, 310 Krivine, D., 83, 90, 294n30, 310 Lamare, J. W., 19, 297n16, 311 Landau, O., 195, 311 Landau, P., 90, 93, 311 Landau, U., 284n11, 284n17, 285n28, 311 Lavi, T., 195, 311 Lehman-Wilzig, S., 89, 310 Lehoucq, F. E., 20, 311 Levine, S., 30, 248, 295n1 (Chap. 9), 302, 311 Lijphart, A., 8, 13, 16, 22, 23, 26, 48, 104, 105, 106, 206, 231, 249, 256, 267, 275, 277n3 (Introduction), 303, 305, 311, 313, 316 Limor, Y., 65, 93, 303 Linz, J. L., 285n30, 311 Lissak, M., 13, 42, 49, 81, 306, 308, 309 Longley, L. D., 9, 21, 23, 25, 31, 277n3 (chap. 1), 309, 311, 312 Lutz, D. S., 12, 312

325

Lynn, U., 126, 135, 151, 190, 205, 285n21, 292n8, 312 Mackerras, M., 242, 254, 312 Magen, D., 131, 134, 312 Maor, M., 48, 305 Margalit, D., 63, 65, 83, 312 Margetts, H., 10, 13, 18, 20, 24, 136, 298n1, 305 McLeay, E., 248, 256, 302, 312 McRobie, A., 254, 295n1 (Chap. 9), 297n18, 309 Medding, P. Y., 22, 42, 50, 60, 61, 65, 147, 206, 312 Medina, B., 42, 85, 153, 316 Melamed, O., 167, 175, 185, 312 Morlino, L., 295n1 (chap. 9), 312 Mulgan, R. G., 235, 256, 313 Nagel, J. H., 30, 295n1 (chap. 9), 313 Nedava, Y., 152, 205, 313 Netanyahu, B., 116, 122, 123, 130, 135, 187, 313 Neuberger, B., 64, 79, 313 Neuman, A., 195, 289n21, 313 Newton, K., 10, 22, 309 Nissim, M. 116, 156, 313 Nohlen, D., 10, 13, 313 Norris, P., 2, 9, 10, 26, 30, 141, 278n12, 296n4, 313 Norton, P., 19, 313 Olson, D. M., 9, 21, 23, 25, 277n3 (chap. 1), 312 Parker, S., 252, 295n1 (Chap. 9), 307, 308, 313 Pasquino, G., 256, 313 Peres, Y. , 79, 125, 131, 281n6, 285n23, 287n6, 313, 314 Peri, Y., 92, 103, 136, 145, 314 Peters, G., 10, 314 Preuss, T., 292n4, 314 Procaccia, U., 165, 180, 290n40, 314 Rader, M., 282n13, 314 Rahat, G., 17, 49, 55, 74, 106, 125, 148, 149, 171, 174, 215, 218, 225, 227,

326

AUTHOR INDEX

Rahat, G. (continued) 249, 273, 297n1 (Introduction), 277n4–5 (Introduction), 278n15, 279n1 (Chap. 2), 280n9–10, 284n9, 291n49, 295n1–2 (Chap. 8), 308, 310, 314 Reed, S. R., 25, 295n1 (Chap. 9), 298n20–21, 314 Reichman, U., 96, 165, 166, 180, 293n16, 314, 315 Roberts, N. S., 30, 248, 295n1 (chap. 9), 302, 311 Rochefort, D. A., 30, 301, 315 Rothblit, Y., 168, 315 Rubinstein, A. 42, 85, 88, 92, 98, 116, 118, 122, 137, 139, 153, 159, 187, 285n25, 292n2, 315, 316 Safrei, D., 88, 159, 316 Sager, S., 13, 48, 49, 105, 205, 306, 316 Sakamoto, T., 10, 238, 296n4, 316 Sala, V. D., 244, 316 Samet, G., 168, 180, 292n2, 316 Saragusti, A., 96, 107, 316 Sarid, Y., 158, 185, 316 Sartori, G., 278n14, 296n10, 297n17, 316 Schechter, S. L., 13, 316 Scheman, A., 92, 303, 316 Schnitzer, S., 131, 316 Schwartz, N. L., 283n23, 316 Schweitzer, M., 182, 292n1, 317 Segal, Z, 287n6, 301. Sha’ari, Y., 63, 317 Shamir, S., 282n13, 317 Shapira, B., 116, 126, 133, 294n22, 310, 317 Shapira, R., 81, 94, 282n15, 291n50, 317 Shapiro, I., 278n10, 307 Sheffer, G., 22, 58, 60, 66, 84, 147, 317 Shira, B., 64, 317 Shiratori, R., 17, 295n1 (chap. 9), 317 Shor, S., 280n12, 317 Shpinner, T., 133, 317 Shugart, M. S., 2, 10, 13, 16, 17, 22, 49, 102, 105, 137, 139, 206, 233, 239,

240, 247, 248, 267, 277n1 (Introduction), 278n12, 278n14, 282n13, 296n10–11, 297n15, 298n20, 304, 306, 309, 314, 317, 318, 320 Sidoti, F., 23, 295n1(chap. 9), 318 Simeon R., 9, 10, 25, 30, 278n13, 301, 303, 316 Simon, H. A., 278n10, 318 Smith, H., 284n15, 318 Smith, R., 284n15, 318 Sprinzak, E., 119, 171, 172, 285n30, 302, 311, 318, 320 Steinmo, S., 268, 319 Sternhell, Z., 130, 318 Strassler, N., 121, 318 Susser, B., 81, 92, 94, 139, 142, 206, 290n42, 307, 317, 318 Taagepera, R., 13, 48, 137, 318 Tadmor, Y., 65, 318 Tarchi, M., 295n1 (chap. 9), 312 Temple, P., 295n1 (chap. 9), 318 Thelen, K., 268, 319 Thies, M. F., 295n1 (chap. 9), 298n20–21, 314 Tibon, S., 94, 317 Tsebelis, G., 278n4, 319 Tsiddon, Y. 131, 135, 139, 141, 161, 182, 292n8, 319 Tversky, A., 278n10, 319 Tzadok, Chaim,133, 180, 201, 292n1, 319 Tzimuki, T., 157, 290n40, 319 Urieli, N., 64, 319 Valenzuela, A., 285n30, 311 Vowels, J., 19, 295n1 (chap. 9), 297n15–16, 311, 319 Wallach, A., 195, 319 Ward, H., 278n10, 319 Wattenberg, M. P., 2, 10, 233, 247, 248, 278n12, 278n14, 296n10–11, 298n20, 304, 306, 309, 314, 317, 318, 320

AUTHOR INDEX

Weaver, K. R., 10, 24, 38, 297n19, 320 Weiss, S., 116, 155, 180, 205, 287n8, 292n8, 320 Wiarda, H. J., 277n2 (chap. 1), 320 Wieman, G., 94, 320 Wolfe, E. L., 295n1 (chap. 9), 320 Wolfsfeld, G., 66, 81, 105, 280n2, 280n8, 284n8, 320 Yaacobi, G., 43, 51, 56, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 99, 287n7, 320, 321 Yanai, N., 56, 82, 128, 321

327

Yassur, Y., 165, 321 Yatziv, G., 155, 198, 321 Yechezkeli, T., 282n13, 321 Yishai, Y., 89, 280n8, 321 Yuchtman-Yaar, E., 125, 281n6, 285n23, 287n6, 301, 314 Zalmanovitch, Y., 80, 125, 139, 147, 303, 321 Zamir, Y., 180, 321 Ze’evi, R., 288n18, 321 Zimmerman, M., 139, 321 Zisman, E., 155, 321

This page intentionally left blank.

Subject Index

in 1984–1990, 97, 99, 103, 105, 107–109, 283n25 in 1988–1992, 114, 128, 146, 188, 191, 210, 260 in Italy, 235, 243, 253, 260, 261 in Japan, 260 in New Zealand, 240, 242 Agudat Yisrael, 86, 87, 88, 109, 122, 149, 160, 184, 190, 193, 197, 199, 200, 203 Alignment, 3, 4, 55, 57, 58, 61, 62, 67, 78, 79, 82, 88, 135, 155–56, 215, 232, 280n15 Almogi, Yosef, 53 American Jews, 83, 89, 90, 93, 122, 163, 164, 165, 170, 267, 290n36 American presidentialism, 128, 137, 138, 139, 142, 169, 205, 206, 267, 285n27, 296n8. See also U.S. American system. See American presidentialism Anglo-American. See Anglo-Saxon Anglo-Saxon (democratic tradition), 13, 14, 254, 255, 267, 297n15 Anti-Defamation League, 290n36 Arab Democratic Party 86, 87, 89, 148, 190, 199, 203, 208 Arab vote, 49, 133–35, 159, 161, 198, 200, 202, 208, 285n20 Assembly of Representatives, 50 Association of Americans and Canadians in Israel, 89, 170 Australia, 297n15

academics (role in the politics of reform), 90, 91, 127, 162, 163, 164, 170, 171, 181, 290n41. See also experts; political scientists accumulated experience, 28, 29, 59, 82, 115, 124, 216 Achdut Ha’avodah, 55, 56, 62, 67, 73 actors (political), role in the politics of reform in general, 1–5 passim, 11, 13, 14, 17–21 passim, 25–30 passim, 32–37, 38–42 passim, 236, 238, 240, 241–46, 253, 256, 260, 263–75 passim, 278n4, 296n7 in Israel, 216, 217, 218, 219–20, 221, 224, 228, 245, 295n2 (chap. 8) in 1948–1969, 55, 295n2 (chap. 8) in 1969–1977, 60–66, 72, 73, 74 in 1984–1990, 80, 84–94, 98, 107, 110 in 1988–1992, 114–17 passim, 146, 147–78, 209 in Italy, 243–44 in Japan, 244–45, 259 in New Zealand, 242–43 ADP. See Arab Democratic Party agreement on content in general, 11, 15, 34, 260, 269 in Israel, 222, 227–28, 229, 245 in 1948–1969, 52 in 1969–1977, 73, 281n16

329

330

SUBJECT INDEX

Bader-Ofer bill, 216. See also remainders allocation formula barriers to reform in general, 2–5 passim, 11–15, 252–62, 267, 269–71, 278n8 in Israel, 223–28 1969–1977, 71–73, 75 1984–1990, 103–10 1988–1992, 204–11 Basic Law: Freedom of Occupation, 148, 286n33 Basic Law: Human Dignity and Freedom, 148, 286n33 Basic Law: Human Rights (bill), 109, 181, 283n21 Basic Law: The Government, 1, 113, 204, 254, 273, 279n8 Basic Law: The Knesset, 52–55, 61, 68, 85, 95, 100, 103 Begin, Menachem, 63 Belgium, 277n3 Ben-Gurion, David, 48, 54, 55, 56, 63, 70, 225, 295n2 (chap. 8) bill of rights in general, 8 as a reform initiative in Israel, 89, 99, 127, 130, 141, 142, 146, 160, 163, 165, 176, 180, 185, 190, 289n28, 289n33 in New Zealand, 239 bipartisan committee (Mapai-GZ of 1955), 52, 54 bipartisan committee (Labor-Likud) of 1984–1985, 84, 95 of 1988–1989, 79, 84, 91, 98, 101–108 passim, 152, 163, 171, 182, 184, 281n2, 287n2 bipolar party system, 27, 79, 80, 110, 114, 215, 227, 232 Bitton, Charlie, 190, 199, 203. See also Black Panthers Black Panthers, 149, 161, 190, 199, 203 Britain, 10, 12, 14, 16, 19, 20, 25, 31, 137, 205, 255, 261, 267, 272, 296n8, 298n19. See also UK British. See Britain

Campaign for Better Government (New Zealand), 243 Canada, 10, 38, 277n3 (chap. 1), 297n15 candidate selection, 60, 115, 216, 281n17, 287n1, 294n26. See also primaries Carmon, Arye, 90, 186, 290n41, 292n6. See also IDI CFI. See Constitution For Israel CFI chairman. See Reichman, Uriel characteristics of the reform proposals in general, 2, 4, 6, 27, 28, 40–41, 247–49, 267 in Israel, 220–21 in 1969–1977, 70–71 in 1984–1990, 100–102 in 1988–1992, 128–41, 146, 211 “chicken” game, 15, 260 Christian Democratic Party (Germany), 14 Christian Democratic Party (Italy), 238, 243, 265, 298n22 city mayors. See mayors Civil Rights Movement. See Ratz closed-list system(s), 16, 48, 50, 55, 64, 70, 72, 100, 101, 102, 130, 250, 296n11 coalition agreement(s), 31 in Israel, 221, 227 in 1948–1969, 52 in 1969–1977, 61 in 1984–1990, 78, 95, 98, 99, 100, 110, 281n5, 281n7 in 1988–1992, 152, 154, 160, 186, 191, 211 coalition bargaining, 31, 59, 83, 85, 88, 90, 99, 108, 116, 117–19, 159, 218, 238 coalition crisis, 30, 96, 218, 238 of March–June, 1990, 83, 90, 91, 99, 117–19, 123, 191, 238, 285n20, 286n40. See also Stinky Trick coalition negotiations. See coalition bargaining.

SUBJECT INDEX

coalition politics. See also minimal winning coalitions; super-size coalitions in general 11, 15, 17, 31, 33, 253, 261, 268, 269 in Israel, 218, 223, 226–27, 253, 261, 273 in 1948–1969, 56 in 1969–1977, 73 in 1984–1990, 78, 80, 104, 109–10 in 1988–1992, 126, 127, 159, 175, 205, 210–11 cohesion. See party cohesion cohesiveness. See party cohesion Cold war, 23, 234, 255, 256, 267 Committee of Concerned Citizens, 170, 281n3 Communist Party (Italy), 23, 234, 238, 244, 252, 255, 258, 259, 297n13, 298n22 Communist Renovation (Italy), 252, 297n13 Consensus (regime), 8, 13, 22, 60, 104, 275 Conservative Party (British), 14, 20, 261, 272 Constitution Committee of the State Provisional Council, 49 constitution draft of 1987. See draft constitution of 1987 Constitution For Israel, 79, 82, 84, 89, 90–102 passim, 107, 108, 109, 118–23 passim, 128, 130, 131, 132, 138–45 passim, 156, 157, 160, 162–66, 167–86 passim, 190–95 passim, 282n10, 283n24, 285n20, 285n34, 285n36, 288n19, 289nn23–24, 289n28, 290n42, 293nn13–15, 294n20, 294n31. See also Reichman, Uriel constitutional court (Italy), 244, 251 Constituent Assembly, 47, 49, 50, 51 constructive vote of no confidence, 9, 145, 198, 273 Content of reform, agreements and disagreements. See agreement over content

331

Corfo, Chaim, 99, 131, 134, 151, 156, 196, 203, 283n4, 284n11, 285nn18–19, 287n5, 293n13, 293n16 corruption, its role in the politics of reform, 34 in Israel, 59, 60, 121, 122, 171, 240, 292n5 in Italy, 234, 238, 240, 244, 252, 254, 296n4 in Japan, 232, 233, 237, 239, 250, 253–57 passim, 296n4 Costa Rica, 21 crisis, 18, 22, 23, 24, 31, 37, 41, 238, 241. See also coalition crisis in Israeli politics of reform, 60, 74, 78, 81–82, 110, 115, 123–26 passim, 137, 142, 167, 171, 188, 193, 205, 206, 284n6 in Italian politics of reform, 233 culture. See political culture Davar (as an actor in the politics of reform), 174 Dayan, Moshe, 74 dealignment (New Zealand), 234 Degel Hatorah, 149, 160, 190, 197, 199, 203 Democratic Movement for Change, 60, 64, 65, 69, 77, 78, 163, 281n17, 281n1 Demonstration(s), 163, 164, 167, 169, 176, 183, 186, 192, 193, 195, 289nn31–32, 289n35 of April 1990, 115, 119, 164–65, 167, 176, 185, 283n2 Dery, Arye, 160 Diaspora. See Jewish Diaspora direct election(s) of mayors, 29, 82, 115, 131, 216, 279n8, 281nn16–17, 284n13 disagreement on content. See agreement on content discipline. See party discipline Diskin, Abraham, 139, 144, 145, 171, 173, 174 Diskin, Hanna, 139, 174

332

SUBJECT INDEX

DMC. See Democratic Movement for Change dominant party in Israel, 27, 57, 58, 74, 77, 80, 104, 147, 215, 217, 225, 226, 232, 267 in Italy, 232 in Japan, 17, 232, 256 draft constitution of 1987, 89, 90, 93, 96, 113, 123, 141, 142, 143, 162–63, 164, 165, 169–75 passim, 179, 180, 192, 286n34, 290n42, 291n49 Droop quota, 49 Dror, Yehezkel, 139, 286n31, 293n17 Effective threshold, 58, 101 Eitan, Rafael, 181 Election Ordinance, 49 elections, Britain, 1974, 31 elections, Israel of 1951, 47 of 1955, 52, 53, 218 of 1969, 57, 58, 62 of 1973, 57, 58, 59, 64, 280n4 of 1977, 59, 60, 63, 64, 66, 71, 74, 77, 78, 81, 87, 125, 216, 218 of 1981, 78, 87, 95, 125 of 1984, 79, 87, 131 of 1988, 79, 83, 85, 87, 90, 91, 93, 98, 103, 110, 114, 116, 131, 161, 181, 215, 238 of 1992, 218, 283n3, 294n25 of 1996, 273 of 1999, 273 elections, Italy of 1992, 251 of 1994, 16 elections, Japan of 1989, 295n3 (chap. 9) of 1990, 295n3 (chap. 9) of 1992, 295n3 (chap. 9) of 1993, 237, 251, 258, 260, 261, 295n3 (chap. 9) elections, New Zealand of 1978, 31, 240, 261, 296n5, 297n18 of 1981, 31, 236, 240, 261, 296n5, 297n18 of 1984, 236, 249, 296n5

of 1987, 30, 237, 249 of 1990, 250 of 1993, 250 electoral efficiency, 22, 105, 248 Electoral Reform Campaign (New Zealand), 242, 243 Eshkol, Levi, 58 EU. See European Union European Union, 233, 234, 238 events in the politics of reform in general, 2, 4, 21–27 passim, 28, 30–31, 32, 36–42 passim, 236–38, 238–40, 245, 254, 271 in the politics of reform in Israel, 217–19, 224, 228, 238, 254 in 1969–1977, 59–60, 74, 280n5 in 1984–1990, 77, 82–84, 93, 110 in 1988–1992, 113, 116–23, 124, 126, 146, 164, 165, 175, 176, 184, 189, 193, 211 in the politics of reform in Italy, 238, 251, 264 in the politics of reform in Japan, 237, 238, 250, 253, 254 in the politics of reform in New Zealand, 238 experts, their role in the politics of reform. See also academics; political scientists in general, 21, 28, 36, 256 in Israel, 217, 219, 220, 222 in 1969–1977, 65 in 1984–1990, 91–93, 96, 100 in 1988–1992, 127, 163, 165, 169, 170–74, 175–78 passim, 180–83 passim, 186–96 passim, 287n2, 290n37, 290n43, 293n17 in New Zealand, 240, 242, 246, 249, 252, 255, 256 extraparliamentary actors, 4, 5, 59, 60, 74, 79, 85, 91, 109, 110, 162, 184–91 passim, 219, 245, 246, 250, 253, 260 Faction for the Promotion of the Zionist Idea, 148, 157–58, 190, 197, 199, 203, 208, 294n20

SUBJECT INDEX

Federalism 8, 277n3 (chap. 1) Finland, 138 Fixed-List system. See closed-List system Foxman, Abe, 290n36 FPZI. See Faction for the Promotion of the Zionist Idea France, 2, 11, 118, 128, 131, 137, 138, 139, 142, 205, 206, 255, 277n1 (chap. 1), 278n8, 284n13, 285n24, 285n27, 287n3 Free Center, 56, 63 French. See France French Fifth Republic, 137, 206, 277n1 (chap. 1) French Fourth Republic, 137, 138, 139 French Third Republic, 118, 138, 139 Gahal, 3, 4, 56–63 passim, 67, 71, 215 “garbage can” model, 25 General Zionists, 52–56 passim, 63, 71, 218, 227, 295n1 (chap. 8) German. See Germany Germany, 14, 16, 137, 138, 139, 254, 278n14, 287n3, 296n10 Geulat Yisrael, 149, 190, 199, 203 Governability, 20, 22, 82, 104, 106, 110, 129, 139, 152, 171,180, 206, 207, 225, 233, 234, 240, 247, 256, 273, 296n10 Greater Israel, 134, 135, 159, 161, 209, 282n9, 289n21 Gulf Crisis, 123, 193 Gur, Efraim, 190, 199, 203. See also Pituah Ve’aliya Gutmann, Emanuel, 145 GZ. See General Zionists Ha’aretz (as an actor in the politics of reform), 174, 290nn44–45 Hadash, 86, 87, 89, 148, 149, 161, 190, 198, 199, 200, 203, 208, 294n27 Hadashot (as an actor in the politics of reform), 174, 290n44 Hagenbach-Bischoff, 49, 51, 67, 68, 279n4 Hamerkaz Hachofshi. See Free Center Haolam Hazeh, 63

333

Hareshima Hamamlachtit, 56, 63, 68 Harish, Micha, 155 Hatehiya, 86, 87, 121, 149, 161, 190, 197, 199, 200, 203, 282n9, 288n18 head of state, 28, 34, 139. See also president role in Israel politics of reform in 1984–1990, 85 in 1988–1992, 152–53 Herut, 225 in 1948–1969, 54, 56 in 1969–1977, 62–69 passim, 73, 87, 223, 280n7, 281n17 in 1984–1990, 282n8 in 1988–1992, 182 Herzog, Chaim, 85, 152–53, 181, 287n3 Historical-comparative approach, 2, 5, 17, 25–26, 263, 268–69 Horowitz, Yigael, 157, 199 “Horse-trading.” See coalition bargaing House Committee, 33, 70, 103, 151, 195, 196, 204, 228 Hungary, 205 hunger strike, 121, 167, 168, 170, 184, 185, 186, 187, 195, 289n29, 292n5 Iceland, 205 IDI. See Israel Democracy Institute Independent Liberal Party, 63, 64, 281n1 information, 14, 21, 132, 138, 243, 273, 274, 275 institutional approach, 2, 3, 10–14 passim, 17, 22–24, 26, 263, 267–68, 269 interest groups. See also pressure groups in general, 9, 13, 20, 28, 34, 35–36, 37, 39, 41, 42 in Israel, 217, 220, 245, 260 in 1969–1977, 64–65, 280n8 in 1984–1990, 83, 84, 89–91 in 1988–1992, 162–70, 175, 183 investigating judges (Italy), 234, 238, 243, 244 Ireland, 297n14 Israeli Association for Public Relations, 289n24

334

SUBJECT INDEX

Israel Democracy Institute (previously Israel Diaspora Institute), 90, 92, 136, 145, 162, 173, 182, 186, 193, 290n41, 292n6 Italian. See Italy Italy, 2, 3, 5, 16, 17, 18, 23, 27, 32, 37, 138, 231–40 passim, 243–44, 245–47 passim, 251–61 passim, 264, 265, 267, 272, 278n13, 295n1 (chap. 9), 296n4, 296n11, 297n12, 298n22 Japan, 2, 3, 5, 16, 17, 18, 27, 32, 231–39 passim, 244–45, 246, 247, 250, 252–61, 264, 266, 267, 295n1(chap. 9), 296n4, 296n11, 298n21 Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs, 92, 169–70, 173 Jerusalem Post (as an actor in the politics of reform), 90, 93, 175, 177, 291n48 Jewish Diaspora, 83, 90, 98, 153, 170, 290n36 Judicial system. See Judiciary Judiciary, 8, 28, 34 in Israel in 1969–1977, 61 in 1984–1990, 85 in 1988–1992, 153–54, 245 Kach, 86, 87 Kadish, Avi, 289n29, 293n16 Kaufman, Chaim, 172 La’am, 63 Labor (Britain), 14, 20, 272 Labor (Israel), 215–25 passim in 1948–1969, 56 in 1969–1977, 57–74 passim, 280nn6–7, 280n13, 280n15, 281n16 in 1984–1990, 77–91 passim, 95–99 passim, 108, 109, 281nn1–2, 181n5, 282n9, 282n19 in 1988–1992, 35, 114–22 passim, 131–38 passim, 146–54 passim, 155–56, 158, 161, 166, 167, 172,

174, 182, 183, 184, 189–211 passim, 283n3, 283n5, 284n16, 285n20, 285n24, 287n7, 288n11, 291n51, 292n10, 293n13, 293n18, 294nn25–26 Labor (New Zealand), 29, 31, 232, 236, 237, 242, 249, 250, 297n18 Labor-Likud bipartisan committee. See bipartisan committee (Labor-Likud) Landau, Uzi, 134, 145, 156, 181, 195, 196, 198, 284n17, 285n28, 287n10, 292n9 Largest Remainder, 49, 51, 67 Latin America, 137, 285n24 Law of Return, 83, 96, 97, 98, 108, 109, 122, 227. See also Who is a Jew Law scholars. See legal scholars Lawyers, 138, 163, 171 LDP. See Liberal Democrat Party Lebanon War, 78, 81, 82, 218 legal scholars, 36, 138, 164, 170, 171 Legal threshold, 9, 12 in New Zealand, 16 in Israel, 49, 51, 52, 54, 78, 79, 95, 99, 100, 101, 102, 104, 127, 218, 226, 275, 279n2 (chap. 2), 282n9, 287n1, 288n18 Levy, David, 196 Libai, David, 138, 143, 150, 187, 188, 195, 285n27, 286n36 Liberal Democrat Party (Japan), 232–37 passim, 244, 245, 247, 251, 255, 259, 260, 261, 295n3 (chap. 9) Liberal Party (British), 20, 298n19 Liberal Party (Israel) in 1948–1969, 55, 56 in 1969–1977, 62–70 passim, 73, 223, 280n7, 280n13, 280n15, in 1988–1992, 157, 182 Liberals. See Liberal Party Likud in 1969–1977, 4, 58, 60–64 passim, 69, 70, 215, 218, 223 in 1984–1990, 77–84 passim, 86–88, 91, 95–101 passim, 103, 108–10 passim, 281nn1–2, 281nn4–5, 282n4, 282n8, 282n18

SUBJECT INDEX

in 1988–1992, 115–17 passim, 120–23 passim, 131–35 passim, 146, 148–52 passim, 155, 156–57, 158, 160, 161, 167, 172–74 passim, 177, 181, 182, 184, 189, 190, 192–205 passim, 208, 210, 211, 223, 258, 283n4, 284n11, 284n15, 285nn18–21, 285n28, 288n11, 289n32, 289n34, 293nn18–19, 294n20, 294n26 Likud-Labor bipartisan committee. See bipartisan committee (Labor-Likud) long-term developments in the politics of reform in general, 2, 4, 21, 24, 25, 27–30, 32, 41, 42, 231–36, 238–40, 271, 296n4 in the politics of reform in Israel, 215–17, 219 in 1969–1977, 57–59, 74 in 1984–1990, 77, 79–82, 110 in 1988–1992, 113, 114–16, 124–27, 146 in the politics of reform in Italy, 234 in the politics of reform in New Zealand, 240 Lynn, Uriel, 99, 127, 135, 140–44 passim, 150, 151, 156, 157, 172, 174, 187, 190–98 passim, 201, 202, 205, 207, 284n10, 284n14, 285n21, 294n30 Ma’ariv (as an actor in the politics of reform), 174, 290n44, 290n47 Magen, David, 157, 284nn14–15, 285n21 Majoritarian (regime), 8, 13, 14, 16, 22, 32, 60, 104, 105, 206, 231, 253, 256, 297n15 Maki, 63 Managerial (approach/perception) 140, 141, 161 Mapai, 51–56 passim, 60, 62, 82, 115, 134, 215, 217, 218, 225, 226, 227, 232 mass demonstration(s). See demonstration(s)

335

mass media role in the politics of reform in general, 25, 28, 36–37, 38, 245 role in the politics of reform in Israel, 219, 220, 222 in 1969–1977, 60, 65 in 1984–1990, 93, 94 in 1988–1992, 116, 163–68 passim, 174–76, 177, 180–86 passim, 193, 199, 289n24, 289n29, 289n31 Mapam in 1948–1969, 54 in 1969–1977, 62, 67, 73, 280n6, 280n12 in 1984–1990, 86, 87, 88 in 1988–1992, 131, 148, 150, 158–59, 190, 199, 200, 203, 208, 210, 288n14, 294n27 mayors (as actors in the politics of reform), 90, 157, 167, 169, 184, 185, 186, 196, 282n12, 283n24, 289nn34–35 Meir, Golda, 58, 74 MGRI. See Movement for Governance Reform in Israel minimal winning coalition, 15, 58, 73, 227, 261 minority veto. See veto players Mixed Member Proportional (system), 16, 89, 92, 96, 97, 101, 102, 103, 108, 142, 163, 243, 246, 247, 250, 254, 282n17 Mizrachi, Eliezer, 190, 199, 203. See also Geulat Yisrael MMP. See Mixed Member Proportional (system) Moledet, 149, 161, 190, 197, 199, 200, 203, 288n18 Morasha, 86, 87 Moria, 149, 190, 197, 199, 200, 203 Movement for Governance Reform in Israel, 91, 167–69, 170, 176, 177, 186, 190–95 passim, 289nn31–33, 292n6, 293n13, 293n16, 294n20 Movement for Personal and Regional Elections in Israel, 65

336

SUBJECT INDEX

Movement for Quality Government in Israel, 292n5 National Party (New Zealand), 232, 236, 237, 242, 250, 297n16 National Religious Party in 1969–1977, 63 in 1984–1990, 86, 87, 88 in 1988–1992, 114, 144, 148, 150, 155, 159–60, 189, 190, 192, 193, 197–203 passim, 208, 288n16, 289n21, 293n13, 294n20, 294n24 Navon, Yitzchak, 152 neo-Fascists, 252, 297n13 Netanyahu, Benjamin, 122, 123, 130, 135, 157, 181, 187, 199, 273, 274, 284n14, 288n10, Netherlands, 24 New York Times, 282n14 New Zealand, 2, 3, 5, 12, 16–22 passim, 27, 29, 31, 32, 37, 40, 162, 231–40 passim, 242–43, 245–49 passim, 252–61 passim, 264, 267, 278nn13–14, 295n1 (Chap. 9), 296nn4–5, 296n11, 297n15, 298n19 New Zealand Party, 296n5 1973 War. See Yom Kippur War Nissim, Moshe, 116 non-Zionist parties, 89, 133, 161, 208 north American Jews. See American Jews Northern League, 233, 234, 237, 244, 259, 297n13 NRP. See National Religious Party Ometz, 79. See also Rafi-Ometz opinion polls in the politics of reform in general, 36, 241 in the politics of reform in Israel, 218, 220, 222 in 1969–1977, 58, 66, 284n8, 279n2 (chap. 3) in 1984–1990, 81, 82, 94, 220, 282n12 in 1988–1992, 115, 119, 120, 132, 156, 164, 165, 171, 173, 176–77, 180, 188, 198, 208,

211, 218, 283n1, 284n6, 284n8, 284n15, 285n23, 287n6, 288n11, 291nn50–52, 292n6 in the politics of reform in Japan, 245, 298n21 Organization of Israel Defense Force Disabled Veterans, 170, 186 Oslo Accords, 282n9 Palestinian uprising, 115, 123 Palmer, David, 242 Parliamentarianism. See parliamentary regime parliamentary regime, 1, 8, 9, 16, 32, 34, 113, 127, 128, 129, 136–45 passim, 171, 172, 198, 205, 206–207, 219, 221, 224, 229, 247, 255, 275, 285n25, 285n30, 285n32, 290n42 party cohesion, 61, 62, 73, 147, 149, 150, 198, 208, 228, 235, 248, 261, 268, 274, 282n8 party discipline, 33, 61, 84, 87, 95, 103, 136, 140, 147, 157, 189, 198, 199, 205, 219, 228, 235, 248, 258, 261, 294n26 party primaries. See primaries Pat, Gideon, 133 Peres, Shimon, 62, 87, 98, 117, 132, 155, 156, 172, 182, 193, 283n3, 284nn15–16 Peretz, Yitzhak, 190, 199, 203. See also Moria Pituah Ve’aliya, 149, 190, 199, 203 PLP. See Progressive List for Peace PM Government, 128, 130, 145, 155, 156, 172, 173, 182, 187–95 passim, 198, 204, 210, 260, 287n10, 290n37, 290n41, 292n6, 292n9, 293n18 political culture, 11, 13, 26, 82, 103–104, 116, 138, 205–206, 233, 254–55, 267. See also political tradition political science (discipline), 2, 22, 25, 137, 240, 277n2 (chap. 1) political scientists, 18, 27, 36, 92, 138, 139, 140, 145, 157, 162, 170, 171, 173, 174, 196, 225, 275

SUBJECT INDEX

political tradition in general, 11, 13, 29, 40, 248, 254–55, 256, 267, 270 in France, 277n1 (chap. 1) in Israel, 224, 226, 228, 229, 255, 283n23 1969–1977, 72, 75 1984–1990, 103–104, 106, 110 1988–1992, 129, 130, 138, 205–206, 207, 211 in Italy, 255 in Japan, 255 in New Zealand, 255, 267, 296n9 polls. See opinion polls Poraz, Avraham, 99, 173 power concentration of, 5, 60, 178, 241, 242 dispersion of, 4, 5, 41, 60, 84, 110, 136, 217, 219, 228, 241, 242, 244, 245, 264, 268–72, 273–75 president. See also Head of State, 139 of Israel, 220, 246 in 1969–1977, 280n5 in 1984–1990, 85, 94, 98 in 1988–1992, 152–53, 164, 167, 175, 176–88 passim, 245, 246 of Italy, 243, 244, 246 presidential regime, 1, 8, 16, 113, 128, 136, 137, 138, 139, 142, 143, 189, 204, 205, 206, 221, 229, 244, 247, 267, 284n13, 285n30, 287n3, 290n42, 291n50, 297n12 presidentialism. See presidential regime pressure group(s). See also interest group(s) role in the politics of reform in general, 5, 28, 35–36, 42, 241, 242, 245, 253, 270, role in the politics of reform in Israel, 218, 219, 220, 222, 245 in 1948–1969, 295n2 (chap. 8) in 1969–1977, 64, 66 in 1984–1990, 82, 85, 87, 89, 92, 108 in 1988–1992, 119, 121, 122, 123, 145, 155, 162, 163, 165,

337

175, 176, 177, 178, 186, 188, 190, 191, 194, 196, 209, 211, 293n16 role in the politics of reform in Italy, 243 role in the politics of reform in New Zealand, 242, 249, 250, 253 primaries, 35, 106, 200, 249, 281n17, 283n3. See also candidate selection Prime Minister Government. See PM Government “prisoners dilemma,” 80, 88 procedural barrier in general, 7, 11, 12, 13, 24, 25, 33, 34, 37, 245, 252, 253–54, 262, 268, 269, 271, 278n4, 278n13 in Israel, 223–24, 228 1969–1977, 61, 62, 67, 69, 70, 71, 75 1984–1990, 103 1988–1992, 151, 154, 183, 195, 196, 204–205, 211 Progressive List for Peace, 86, 87, 89, 148, 190, 199, 203, 208 Progressive Party, 55, 56, 63, 226 Provisional Government, 48 Provisional State Council, 47, 48, 49, 50 public opinion role in the politics of reform in general, 5, 19, 22, 28, 29, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39, 42, 241, 258, 270 role in the politics of reform in Israel, 217, 220, 222, 245 in 1969–1977, 66, 74 in 1984–1990, 80, 82, 87, 94, 99, 108, 282n11, in 1988–1992, 121,124, 138, 146, 157, 176–77, 178, 188, 211, 274, 291n52 role in the politics of reform in Italy, 251, 253 role in the politics of reform in New Zealand, 253 public protest role in the politics of reform in general, 31, 36, 234, 252

338

SUBJECT INDEX

public protest (continued) role in the politics of reform in Israel, 222 in 1969–1977, 58, 59, 69, 280n8 in 1988–1992, 116, 119, 121, 130, 184, 185, 186, 189, 192 public trust, 4, 24, 42, 81, 115, 124, 125, 154, 207, 216, 281n6, 284n6, 287n6, 295n2 Rabin, Yitzhak, 58, 62, 117, 127, 132, 155, 156, 159, 193, 198, 200, 202, 210, 227, 283n3, 284n15, 285n24, 287n8, 288n11, 294nn25–26 Rafi, 56, 62, 63, 85 Rafi-Ometz, 86, 199 Rakah, 63 Ramon, Chaim, 130, 133, 294n32 rational choice, 2, 3, 10, 11, 13–14, 17–21, 25, 26, 106, 207, 208, 263–66, 268, 269, 275, 278n10 Ratz, 63, 64, 86, 87, 88, 95, 101, 131, 148–50, 158, 159, 182, 190, 194, 199, 201, 203, 208, 210, 281n1, 289n26 realignment, 17, 265, 266 in Italy, 233, 243, 251, 252, 259, 266 in Japan, 244, 259, 266 referendum as a reform, 8, 239 as a path to reform 11, 32, 37, 253, 260, 278n13 in Ireland, 297n14 in Israel, 53–54, 141, 163, 185, 295n2(chap. 8) in Italy, 32, 37, 234, 235, 237, 243–44, 245–61 passim, 278n13, 296n8 in New Zealand, 19, 30, 32, 37, 234, 235, 237, 242–43, 245–60 passim, 278n13, 297n16 reform process. See stages of the reform process Reichman, Uriel, 102, 118, 121, 132, 162, 163, 165, 166, 180, 195, 285n21, 289n24

religious legislation, 83, 98, 109, 114, 121, 122, 181, 193 religious parties, 4, 31, 78, 79, 83, 87, 88, 96–98 passim, 106, 108, 109, 126, 133, 150, 155, 181, 182, 208, 210, 279n6, 281n5, 291n51. See also ultraorthodox parties remainders allocation formula, 49, 51, 61, 65, 67, 68, 71, 75, 82, 227 Rothenberg, Arye, 120 Royal Commission (New Zealand), 236, 237, 242, 246–53 passim, 257, 260, 296n9 Rubinstein, Amnon, 92, 99, 118, 121, 122, 137, 139, 143, 150, 159, 173, 181, 187, 284n10, 285n25, 286nn34–35, 290n46, 292n3 Sarid, Yosef, 133, 158, 185, 288n13 Segni, Mario, 243 settlers lobby, 159, 197, 288n21 Shach, Rabbi, 121, 122, 160, 167, 283n5, 288n17 Shamir, Yitzhak, 83, 84, 87, 97, 98, 99, 109, 117, 120, 132, 152, 156, 157, 174, 177, 183, 191, 192, 196, 198, 199, 208, 282n20, 284n15, 288n11, 290n43, 293n17 Sharansky, Nathan, 282n11 Sharon, Ariel, 64, 133, 196 Shas, 86, 87, 131, 149, 160, 190, 197, 198, 199, 200, 203, 288n17, 294n23 Shilansky, Dov, 151, 196, 200 Shinui, 64, 86, 87, 88, 95, 131, 148, 150, 154–63 passim, 181, 182, 189, 190, 192, 194, 197, 199, 201, 203, 208, 210 Shlomzion, 64, 281n1 Shraga, Eliad, 292n5 single non-transferable vote 16, 246, 256, 298n21 Social Credit (New Zealand), 296n5 Social Democratic Party (Germany), 14 Social Democratic Party (Italy) 252, 297n13. See also Communist Party Soviet Jewry Zionist Forum, 282n11 Split vote, 102, 106, 132, 159, 160, 200, 284n16

SUBJECT INDEX

Sprinzak, Ehud, 171–72, 285n30, stages of the reform process in general, 2, 19, 27, 28, 29, 38–40, 41, 42, 249–52, 266, 268, 271, 278n13 in Israel, 221–23 in 1969–1977, 66–70 in 1984–1990, 94–100 in 1988–1992, 128, 179–204, 210 State Comptroller, 193, 293n16 State Provisional Council. See Provisional State Council Stinky Trick, 117–19, 123, 124, 127, 128, 133, 146, 147, 153, 155, 158, 159, 166–70 passim, 175, 184, 188, 189, 192, 199, 215, 206, 207, 208, 211, 218, 220, 224, 228, 245, 254, 258, 286n40, 288n19, 290n36, 291n52. See also March–June 1990 coalition crisis sub-committee for Basic Laws, 52, 69 super-size coalitions, 15 Supreme Court, 52, 61, 85, 89, 95, 103, 142, 151, 153, 154, 163, 177, 178, 180, 186, 196, 204, 220, 228, 287nn4–6, 294n29 Susser, Bernard, 92, 142, 290n42 systemic rationale in general, 11, 13, 14, 20, 240, 248, 256–57, 270, 272 in Israel, 219, 224–25, 229 1948–1969, 56 1969–1977, 72 1984–1990, 101, 104–106, 110 1988–1992, 135, 136, 138, 206–207, 211 Tami, 86 Tamir, Shmuel, 63 Tehiya. See Hatehiya Threshold. See legal threshold and effective threshold timing, 12, 23, 30, 84, 96, 103, 109, 200, 204, 210, 211, 229, 254, 274, 294n30 traditiom. See political tradition Tsaban, Yair, 200, 294n27

339

Tsiddon, Yoash, 118, 135, 139–43 passim, 150, 285n27 Two-tiered system, 41, 53, 56, 57, 62, 63, 79, 95, 97 Tzadok, Chaim, 133 Tzomet, 86, 87, 88, 95, 148, 150, 154, 155, 161, 181, 182, 189, 190, 192, 197, 199, 201, 203, 208, 293n19, 294n20 UK. See Britain ultraorthodox parties, 4, 63, 79, 80, 83, 88, 90–93 passim, 96–102, 102, 105, 109, 110, 114, 116, 117, 120–22, 133–35 passim, 159, 160, 167, 170, 175, 181, 184, 189, 194, 197, 200, 208, 209, 215, 216, 222, 227, 281n4, 283n21, 295n4 (chap. 8). See also religious parties UN partition resolution, 48 uncertainty, 2, 17, 21, 30, 40, 107, 136, 207, 209, 211, 221, 226, 241, 258–59, 265–66, 268, 270, 298n2 unitarism, 8 United States. See U.S. unity government(s) 4, 77, 80–85 passim, 88–90 passim, 95, 98, 109, 100, 114, 115, 118, 152, 181, 194, 204, 216, 227, 281n7 U.S., 12, 13, 25, 115, 117, 137, 138, 145, 170, 205, 285n24, 297n15 vested interest(s) in general, 4, 11, 13, 18–20, 23, 29, 37, 241, 247, 249, 255, 257–59, 261, 265–70, 297n17 in Israel, 225–26, 228 1948–1969, 55 1969–1977, 59, 72–73 1984–1990, 106–107, 110 1988–1992, 162, 185, 207–209, 211 in Italy, 258, 298n22 in New Zealand, 255 veto actors. See veto players veto players, 4, 5, 6, 15, 31, 41, 78, 110, 115, 123, 136, 139, 142, 183, 187,

340

SUBJECT INDEX

veto players (continued) 210, 211, 216, 217, 226, 227, 228, 241, 244, 254, 261, 264, 266, 270, 274, 278n4, 281n5 voting paradox, 15, 278n8 Washington Post, 282n14 Weimar (Republic), 137, 138, 139 Weizman, Ezer, 123 West Germany. See Germany Weiss, Shevach, 131, 137, 284n13 Westminster (regime). See majoritarian (regime)

Who is a Jew, 90, 93, 164. See also Law of Return Yaacobi, Gad, 99, 137, 287n7 Yachad, 79, 86 Yadin, Yigal, 64, 69 Yedioth Aharonoth (as an actor in the politics of reform), 174, 290n47 Yom Kippur War, 4, 58, 59, 60, 64, 65, 66, 72, 74, 75, 81, 218, 222, 224, 228, 280n2, 280n10, 284n6 Yosef, Rabbi Ovadia, 160 Ze’evi, Rehavam, 288n18

POLITICAL SCIENCE

The Politics of Regime Structure Reform in Democracies Israel in Comparative and Theoretical Perspective Gideon Rahat This book examines the success or failure of initiatives aimed at reforming regime structures in democracies, particularly their electoral and government systems. Through a comparative analysis of the several attempts at this type of reform in Israel over more than four decades, Gideon Rahat begins with the failed attempts at electoral reform in the 1970s and 1980s. He then analyzes Israel’s successful attempt at promoting government system reform from 1988 to 1992. Finally, he compares the Israeli cases to cases of electoral reform in New Zealand, Japan, and Italy in the 1990s. While the book focuses on the Israeli cases, it places Israel within a comparative framework and makes an important contribution to the debate concerning the politics behind regime structure reform. “Thoroughly researched and carefully analyzed, this impressive piece of scholarship on party systems and electoral reform will be invaluable for academics, politicians, and policy makers working in this field. For scholars of Israel especially, this book will play an important role in explaining the country’s unique electoral history and its various experiments with electoral reform.” — John C. Courtney, author of Elections “Rahat finds just the right balance between the larger theoretical and comparative questions and an informed, detailed analysis of the Israeli experience. This is no simple accomplishment, and he is to be congratulated on the achievement.” — Asher Arian, author of Politics in Israel: The Second Republic, Second Edition Gideon Rahat is a Lecturer in the Department of Political Science at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. A volume in the SUNY series in Israeli Studies Russell Stone, editor

State University of New York Press www.sunypress.edu