The Last Bastion of U.S. Democracy

Julia Nikhinson/Pool/Getty Images

In the month since his return to office, President Donald Trump has made extensive use of executive orders (EOs) to turn his campaign promises into reality. From signing an order pausing all foreign aid, to banning trans women athletes from participating in women’s sports, Trump has not shied away from testing the reach of the EO. Federal courts, however, have blocked a number of these measures, including the orders on birthright citizenship and Trump’s efforts to freeze federal funding. In response, Vice President JD Vance and Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) head Elon Musk have shown defiance to court orders, criticizing the supposed overreach by the courts and calling for the impeachment of justices who have halted Trump’s agenda. As calls have grown for Trump to ignore these warnings, some scholars warn that doing so could create a constitutional crisis. As such, it’s likely that the challenges from the executive branch may eventually fall into the hands of the Supreme Court. Luckily for those fearing the worst, the Court may be Trump’s biggest check in his second term.

The court hasn’t been particularly favorable to liberals in recent years, handing a series of detrimental decisions that overturned the federal right to an abortion, disposed of the Chevron doctrine, limited the EPA’s ability to mandate reductions in carbon emissions, and dismantled affirmative action. As such, many have grown pessimistic about the politicized nature of the court, worrying about upcoming decisions on racial gerrymandering, the ability of the government to regulate “ghost guns,” and gender-affirming care for minors. However, while the court isn’t going to make an ideological 180 in the next four years, they’re also not going to give Trump free rein to do whatever he wants.

For any given case, at least five justices will have to vote to uphold a federal court decision. Based on the ideological composition of the court–six conservative justices to three liberals–some may be quick to foretell doom. Don’t let the pessimists fool you, however–it’s a misnomer to say this is a 6-3 conservative court; it’s better characterized as a 3-3-3 court split between liberals, institutional conservatives, and hard-line conservatives. Chief Justice John Roberts, along with Associate Justices Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett–the Court’s institutional conservatives–have all shown a willingness to compromise. Throughout the 2022-2023 session, the justices agreed with members of the liberal bloc about 80% of the time in non-unanimous decisions. As such, the odds of them moving to uphold the Trump-restricting decisions of the lower-level courts–due to institutional concerns–are better than cynics may expect.

In any given case, liberal Associate Justices Elena Kagan, Ketanji Brown Jackson, and Sonia Sotomayor are surefire votes against Trump. The set of issues that the liberal justices see eye-to-eye with him on are few and far between. Among the conservative bloc, there are four justices who could reasonably make up the other two votes needed. Which two justices are most likely to break off is largely dependent on the issue, however.

On Trump’s budget tweaks, for example, the two conservative justices most likely to join the liberal justices in striking them down are Roberts and Kavanaugh. As several former secretaries of Treasury have pointed out, Roberts has previously written against executive overreach on financial affairs, arguing that “no area seems more clearly the province of Congress than the power of the purse.” Similarly, Kavanaugh wrote explicitly against it, saying that “Even the president does not have unilateral authority to refuse to spend the funds.” From cutting USAID to everything to do with Musk’s DOGE, expect the court to strike down these efforts to restructure the executive branch.

On a ruling regarding birthright citizenship, hardline conservative Associate Justice Neil Gorsuch could prove to be an unlikely ally for liberal justices. In April 2022, Gorsuch’s concurring opinion in United States v. Vaello-Madero called for the overturning of the Insular Cases, a set of rulings from the Spanish-American War asserting that constitutional rights do not fully apply to citizens of incorporated U.S. territories. Gorsuch’s decision to explicitly critique the rulings is noteworthy, and could signal that he may adopt a broad interpretation of jurisdiction (at least territorially) in a ruling on birthright citizenship. Similarly, the precedent-focused Roberts will likely vote in favor of birthright citizenship, a principle from the 14th Amendment that has been upheld in Dred Scott v Sanford and United States v Wong Kim Ark. 

Expect Gorsuch and the chief justice to once again come together for any ruling relating to same-sex marriage or LGBTQ+ rights. For Gorsuch, his majority opinion in Bostock v. Clayton County, a 2020 case that ruled against workplace discrimination based on sexual orientation, may provide a preview on how he could approach similar cases that may arise in the coming terms. In his opinion, Gorsuch argued that “It is impossible to discriminate against a person for being homosexual or transgender without discriminating ... based on sex.” This ruling, which Roberts joined him on, could provide a framework for how the two justices would treat similar cases of discrimination by Trump.

Additionally, while Roberts dissented in the original Obergefell v. Hodges ruling, which legalized same-sex marriage, his respect for precedent might motivate him to cast a vote to uphold the ruling, should a challenge come before the court. A defining feature of the chief justice is his ability to put precedent before ideology, as displayed in his vote to support upholding Mississippi's 15-week abortion ban, but opposing the full overturn of Roe v. Wade in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization.  

If the decision involves precedent or could impact the court’s credibility as an independent body insulated from political pressures, expect the institutional conservatives to step in. Roberts’ long-standing focus on the court’s credibility and legal integrity has been reinvigorated in recent years, with the chief justice reiterating the vitality of judicial independence in his 2024 end of the year report.

This sentiment seems to be echoed by Associate Justice Amy Coney Barrett, who recently chose to recuse herself from a case involving her alma mater, Notre Dame. While not as much of an institutionalist as Roberts, Barrett has shown a respect for the court’s reputation, as well as a desire to not be seen as a political pawn who only serves to advance Trump’s agenda. In cases like Fischer v. United States, which dealt with the applicability of provisions in the Sarbanes–Oxley Act against participants in the January 6th insurrection, Barrett surprised observers by breaking with her conservative peers. Instead, she joined Sotomayor and Kagan in a dissenting opinion that called for a broader interpretation of the statute to prosecute individuals at the attempted coup d'état. Writ large, she was the most likely conservative justice to vote for a liberal outcome in the 2023-2024 term (a title that has historically belonged to Roberts). Beyond that, Barrett has voiced support for a binding ethics code for justices on the court. The move may be an indirect dig at fellow conservative Associate Justices Samuel Alito and Clarence Thomas, who have come under fire for failing to disclose millions of dollars of luxurious gifts from Republican donors. As such, while Barrett voting with the liberal bloc is by no means a guarantee, it certainly isn’t out of the question.

Similarly, Kavanaugh has proven remarkably similar to Roberts, voting with him 95% of the time during the 2022-2023 term.  Kavanaugh voted with Roberts and the liberal justices to uphold a test to determine the existence of discriminatory voting rules in Allen v Milligan, and took a more liberal interpretation of the 4th Amendment’s usage of “seizure” in Torres v. Madrid. While both Kavanaugh and Barrett have broken with Roberts on key issues, such as abortion, they have relatively stayed in line, voting with him more often than they voted with any other individual.

The bloc has moved together to prevent potential executive power grabs before, such as in Moore v. Harper, where they voted against giving state legislatures unregulated power to set the rules for federal elections in their own states. Under a different interpretation, allowing state legislatures to have unchecked power over federal election laws could create a situation where states with Republican-controlled state legislatures hand over their electoral votes won by a Democrat (e.g. Kamala Harris) to a Republican (e.g. Donald Trump). This concept, known as the independent state legislature theory, raised concerns from some experts about the implications for American democracy. The bloc, however, recognizing the risk at stake, voted to reject the ideal. In similar cases that may bring into question the Court’s credibility, expect any permutation of Roberts, Barrett, and Kavanaugh to join the Court’s liberals to uphold the lower court.

While Barrett and Kavanaugh have mostly followed Roberts and his respect for precedent, Gorsuch–who isn’t motivated by the same institutional concerns–has charted his own course, producing a number of distinctive opinions over the years. Although Gorsuch is a hard-line conservative, most frequently aligning with Thomas and Alito, he’s shown a willingness to break from Trump on hot-button issues like immigration, indigenous sovereignty, and (as mentioned) LGBTQ+ rights. In his nomination, he noted a willingness to break from the president if the law necessitates it. He also harbored disdain for political name-calling by a president to a justice following an unfavorable decision–a sentiment shared by Roberts. He exercised this independence, voting with Kavanaugh and the court’s liberal justices to have Trump release his tax records, much to the president’s chagrin. As such, while Trump appointed Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, and Barrett, assuming the three’s loyalty to the president exceeds their legal integrity is a faulty speculation.

While Thomas and Alito could vote to solidify a unanimous decision, they don’t share the same institutional concerns that motivate Roberts, Kavanaugh, and Barrett, nor do they share the motivations behind Gorsuch’s track record of decisions. Instead, they tend to provide originalist decisions, adopting a stricter reading of the Constitution that usually bodes well for Republicans. That being said, as a whole, the Court is not as partisan as reporting makes it out to be, despite having a few high-profile, ideologically-bending decisions in recent years. Indeed, half of decisions in the 2022-2023 term were unanimous. Even polar opposites, like Sotomayor and Alito, have still ruled together in non-unanimous decisions more often than they did not. 

Furthermore, plenty of recent decisions have involved surprising majorities. Mallory v. Norfolk Southern Railway Co, which dealt with the Due Process Clause of the 14th Amendment, had Justices Thomas, Alito, Sotomayor, Gorsuch, and Jackson in the majority and Roberts, Kagan, Kavanaugh, and Barrett in the dissent. Similarly, in National Pork Producers Council v. Ross, which discussed whether the Interstate Commerce clause could allow California to impose anti-animal cruelty standards on exporters from outside the state, had Sotomayor, Kagan, Thomas, Gorsuch and Barrett in the majority, and Roberts, Kavanaugh, Alito, and Jackson in the dissent. Only 8% of decisions from the 2022-2023 term were 6-3 across ideological lines. The depiction of the court as a solely political entity is wholly inaccurate.

As the president tests the limits of executive power, the Supreme Court may prove to be the ultimate check to Trump’s more radical and destructive impulses. While Trump appointed a third of the justices on the court, they aren’t his cronies, and will instead demonstrate a commitment–albeit a varying one–to the rule of law and preservation of credible institutions. As Trump rebuilds the government and redefines what it means to be president, the Supreme Court has the opportunity to be the safeguard that U.S. democracy needs to endure a second Trump administration.

Ukraine: Voting Under Martial Law

Since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, Ukraine’s parliament, the Verkhovna Rada, has voted to keep the country in a state of martial law. The initial decree, issued by Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy on February 24, 2022, had dictated that all national and regional authorities must come together to ensure the defense and public safety of all of Ukraine. The Law on the Legal Regime of Martial Law (passed in 2015) regulated temporary restrictions of the constitutional rights and freedoms of both individuals and legal entities. Additionally, all citizens of Ukraine aged 18-60 eligible for military service have been liable to be called to serve, as regulated by general mobilization. For Ukrainian citizens in their daily lives, martial law has meant restricted freedom of movement, banning public demonstrations, stricter ID checks, and an enforceable curfew. Additionally, the government can “use the capacities and workforce resources of public and private enterprises for defense needs,” including controlling public media.

The continued enactment of martial law may complicate Ukrainian elections next year. During the entire course of Russia’s invasion, Ukraine’s head of state has remained the same. President Zelenskyy was elected to serve a five-year term in 2019 and would be up for reelection in March during the 2024 cycle. In early September 2023, while the question of elections being held was still up in the air, President Zelenskyy stated that he was “ready for the elections,” but he stipulated, “I mean, we’re ready if it is necessary” — noting the challenges accompanying a wartime vote. Under martial law, elections are currently suspended, meaning Ukraine would not need to hold presidential elections in 2024. However, until early November, the question remained of whether the elections would occur. In a November 6th address, President Zelenskyy cleared the uncertainty, saying it is “not the right time” for elections in Ukraine. He continued with a message of unity, telling listeners, “We must realize that now is the time of defense, the time of the battle that determines the fate of the state and people, not the time of manipulations.”

Zelenskyy’s message touched on the difficulties of holding elections during wartime. Free and fair elections require a significant effort and devotion of time on the part of the government. For Ukraine to hold an election now would present considerable challenges for the entire country. But what should be prioritized? Even in a time of war, do democratic elections take ultimate precedence? Does holding elections protect individual rights, or does it make the entire country vulnerable? If so, should overall safety supersede personal freedom?

An election during wartime is a familiar concept to many parts of the world. For instance, the 1944 United States presidential elections took place in the throes of WWII. They ran relatively smoothly, with incumbent candidate Franklin Delano Roosevelt securing the victory. However, in 2023 Ukraine faces a vastly different situation than 1944 United States. Consider that WWII was fought primarily on European soil, and the United States was part of an alliance; it was not fighting on home soil by itself like Ukraine. So, while wartime elections are not unprecedented, Ukraine’s situation is relatively novel, which makes it challenging to seek guidance through historical comparisons.

Another complicating factor is that Ukrainians can be conscripted for service at any time. According to martial law, all males between 18 and 60 are considered liable for military service. Although many of those who are eligible for service have volunteered, Ukraine faces a troop shortage, and mobilization is a matter of survival for the country. Mandatory service adds a deeper layer of complication to a situation where elections are not being held. When individuals are called to serve a country but do not have adequate voting representation in that country, it presents serious qualms about the state of democracy. And in these times, a decision must be made – does safety come before freedom?

Understanding the impact elections have during wartime is essential to recognizing how war often prevents the full exercise of democracy. Elections are another measurable loss the people of Ukraine have suffered since Russia’s full-scale invasion. And they make a peaceful resolution of the war all the more necessary.

Indonesian Democracy Under Threat

journalofdemocracy.org

Indonesia represents one of the few functioning democracies in Southeast Asia. While its neighbors have languished under military rule, with little representation in government, Indonesia has built a sturdy democratic system that serves its citizens better than it hurts them. According to Freedom House, elections are free and fair, with alleged irregularities in the recent 2019 election being dismissed by the country’s top court. The elections themselves are competitive, with multiple parties representing a variety of interests running in elections and receiving votes in the national parliament. A free and independent press has flourished under a relaxed set of regulations, allowing proper scrutiny of the government and access to high-quality information. While there have been reports of intimidation of journalists, the country has largely allowed for a free press, much to the benefit of the country’s democracy. Peaceful protests have been allowed, albeit with limited outbreaks of violence leading to the use of force by security forces. This was exemplified in 2019, as protesters rallied against new government policy.  Simultaneously, the country faces several challenges, including rampant corruption from businesses, an underrepresentation of minorities in government, excess military involvement in politics, and a judiciary too prone to making decisions informed by religious beliefs.

However, as this paper will argue, the biggest challenge facing Indonesian democracy is that of its reckless President Joko Widodo. While initially a marker of continuous democratic elections with his election in 2014 and reelection in 2019, he has shown himself to be incredibly power hungry, pushing for electoral reform that would allow him to seek a third term as President. This is specifically barred by the constitution and would represent a massive setback in the country’s democracy.  As such This paper will argue that Joko Widodo represents the biggest threat to Indonesian democracy and should be barred from seeking a third term. Though he has been a monumental force for the country, pushing through massive investment in infrastructure, serving to bolster the country’s economy and making it a regional power, his power-craven ambitions have stained his legacy, and more concerningly, threaten to upend a flawed, yet massive democracy.

Indonesian sovereignty, like much of the developing world, was born out of a long history of colonial rule and exploitation. The British and Dutch arrived in the 16th century, establishing trading ports, and representing colonial expansion into Southeast Asia. The Dutch then obtained full control over the region, suppressing the local population, often brutally. Fraught relations between the colonizers and colonized people of Indonesia sparked frequent rebellion throughout the course of Dutch rule, particularly on the island of Java. The outbreak of World War II served to upend Dutch control of the region. While initially falling under the occupation of the Japanese as they moved to conquer Asia, their loss in the war prompted calls for formal independence from the Dutch. The rich ethnic diversity of Indonesia that had long divided the island along ethnic lines united in their opposition to colonial control and advocated for their freedom. Under mounting international pressure, the Dutch chose to relinquish control of the island, giving the island it’s freedom for the first time in nearly 400 years.  

In the aftermath of World War II, Sukarno emerged as the country’s leader, inciting nationalist rhetoric that inspired the islands people to resist Dutch attempts to reestablish their control. As such, he was proclaimed President in 1945. Democratic aspirations were strengthened when the constitution was drafted that same year, establishing a formal separation of powers between the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of government. This mirrored other major democracies and inspired hope for a free Indonesia. However, this hope dwindled as the years progressed. Sukrarno, a once democrat that united the various ethnic groups of Indonesia, slowly evolved into an authoritarian, working to consolidate power in the executive branch and aligned himself with Islamist forces as well as the military. Despite term limits being imposed by a Constitution Sukarno helped to draft, he held office for more than 22 years. Sukrarno resisted calls for parliamentary elections until 10 years after the country’s constitution had been written. In 1955, when election finally occurred, split results amongst voters for the parliament gave way for Sukarno to dissolve parliament, further concentrating the power of the Presidency. This furthered popular disapproval of Sukrano’s rule, and delegitimized the democracy he had promised to his people. However, his main challenge came from an alliance he had bounded between a host of opposing forces. The main two factions he had aligned himself with were the Communist Party of Indonesia, or PKI, and the military, both of whom felt threatened by the other. Increasing Sukarno allegiances with the PKI threatened the military’s power, causing an attempted coup in 1965. With Sukarno’s power weakened, he ceded power to General Suharto, who let the armed forces. Under his rule, he undertook an anti-communist purge, which was aimed at rooting out all communist presence in Indonesia. 

During the purge, it’s estimated that between 500,000 and 1,000,000 people were killed, in a horribly brutal display of authoritarian force. Under Suharto’s rule, opposition parties were delegitimized in elections, with the army playing a pivotal role in all forms of government. Backed by the United States, Suharto made Indonesia a hub for foreign direct investment, which led to increased urbanization and modernization of the country’s economy. While political representation was stifled and limited, Indonesians remained supportive of Suharto because of the economic prosperity that occurred over the course of his rule. However, his tenure was indeed marred by the brutality of opposition parties and figures, as well as increased military involvement in the political system, as well as heavy corruption from outside business interests. The 1997 Asian financial crisis brought Indonesia’s spiraling economic growth to a halt, and forced Suharto to leave power after 32 years as President.  In the aftermath of the Suharto presidency, a number of Constitutional reforms were undertaken, aimed at increasing the separations of power between the three branches of government. It cemented regular elections with term limited presidents into the constitution. It also increased regional autonomy throughout the country, which was virtually non-existent under the dictatorships of the 20th century. Following the 1998 reforms, regular elections commenced in 2004, and have occurred every 5 years since then. Though the system has been critiqued for a lack of representation of minorities and persistent corruption from outside forces, the system has guaranteed electoral rights to hundreds of millions and have facilitated regular competitive elections, both of which are informed by a free press. Economic prosperity over the same democratic period has flourished, serving to further legitimize the political system.

In 2014, the country elected Joko Widodo, who has been the country’s longest serving President in the democratic period. He ran for and won re-election in 2019, with his fresh five-year term due to be up in 2024. However, Widodo has expressed interest in extended his term past the constitutionally mandated period of two five-year terms, culminating in a 10-year term in office if fulfilled, as Widodo is likely to do. There has been discussion amongst political leaders of either delaying the scheduled 2024 election or removing the two-year term limit in the constitution. Either scenario is equally as dangerous for Indonesian democracy. What is more concerning is that the idea is being propagated by political leaders other than Widodo and has tentative support from the Indonesian population given Widodo’s popularity. The rationale given for such a dramatic move is economic – the country wanned under the COVID-19 pandemic and Widodo is viewed as the best person to lead the recovery effort. Democracy has already stagnated under Widodo – the military has increased their role in politics, reminiscent of past dictatorial trends, and individual freedoms have been limited via legislation he has signed into law, such as giving the military more power in his government and drastically limiting the freedoms of the LGBTQIA+ community. Allowing Widodo to seek a third term in office sets a dangerous precedent in a country with a deep authoritarian past. Increasing their dependency on Widodo only furthers his grip on the political system, and could legitimize him to seek further years of the Presidency. Others in his circle have also raised the idea of having the legislature elect the President in the future, rolling back a key tenant of the 1998 reforms that allowed the populace to directly vote for the executive. Widodo has overseen a country that has backslid massively and has the chance to further erode its democracy should he try to extend his term.

In conclusion, Widodo’s efforts to lengthen his stay in office follow a string of actions that have weakened Indonesian democracy. He must be barred from seeking a third term if the country is to stay free.

The Implications of Türkiye and Brazil on Global Democracy

Fears of global democratic backsliding have become all but ubiquitous among international relations scholars, as complications emerge from fracturing in established democracies, such as the United States, and the rise of authoritarian powerhouses like China that offer an alternative political system for countries to consider. Are such fears warranted? Is democracy in retreat worldwide? To expand upon this discussion, this article will focus on two specific case studies of countries that could help forecast the future directions of democracy: Türkiye and Brazil.

This article will take a retrospective look at the political atmosphere in Brazil in the aftermath of Bolsonaro’s tumultuous 4 years in office, and a prospective look at the democratic outlook in Türkiye in the wake of the earthquakes and the forthcoming 2023 elections. In doing so, it will analyze what the domestic politics in these countries can tell us about what’s in store for global democracy.

Türkiye

Türkiye is in a crucial transition point, wherein the intersection of earthquakes, the general election, and the war in Ukraine could prove to have a ripple effect on democracy in Eastern Europe and beyond. Türkiye is facing a dire humanitarian crisis, with tens of thousands of casualties, billions of dollars in property damage, and millions of people being displaced, because of earthquakes in the region. The sheer scale of these earthquakes and the disruption of life that has ensued for large swathes of the Turkish population makes it pertinent for the AKP to address the immediate damage and mitigate the long-term effects to avoid adding insult to injury for Türkiye’s already struggling economy. With Türkiye’s elections mere months away, there’s little room for error, as resentment from a lackluster long-term response on Erdoğan’s part could jeopardize his bid for re-election. In that regard, the decision to call for elections a month earlier could backfire if the aftermath from the earthquakes isn’t addressed properly and lingers in the minds of voters when they’re casting their ballots.

The world is watching Erdoğan’s response intently, as it could prove to be a decisive moment for Western democracy and NATO unity. Another 5 years could embolden Erdoğan to consolidate more power, further endangering the already fragile system of checks and balances in place and eroding democratic institutions. Domestically, an emboldened Erdoğan could take past efforts to restrict the information available to the public one step further, through cracking down on dissent and curtailing the freedom of press, endangering a lifeline of any functioning democracy. Internationally, a successful re-election bid would provide Erdoğan with a concrete victory for him to tout as proof of the popularity of his policy, which he could use to justify further distancing from the West. Erdoğan’s intent and willingness to stall NATO operations is present and clear, it’s just restrained so he can gauge whether his base is receptive to it or not. Erdoğan’s refusal to let Sweden and Finland join NATO until he extracted concessions from alliance members was a clear example of this, and it could only be light work compared to what could happen if he wins re-election. A re-election would serve as validation for his foreign policy that promotes Türkiye’s self-interest above all else, including its NATO allies. The war in Ukraine is a test of Western resolve, and more pushback from Türkiye in NATO operations would only undermine the narrative of a cohesive unit that is committed to upholding international norms, and with it, Eastern European security.

Conversely, if Erdoğan’s election efforts are unsuccessful, a more democratic Türkiye could help NATO present a more unified front against Russia and put more pressure on countries such as Hungary and Poland to fall in line and undertake reforms to reinvigorate their democracies. If NATO’s greatest spoiler were to suddenly embrace cooperation with its fellow alliance members, it would send a clear signal to Putin that NATO is stronger than ever. Any desire Putin may have had to see whether NATO is bluffing about Article V commitments in the event of an invasion of the Baltics would be extinguished, effectively deterring further expansion in the region.

Furthermore, if Türkiye is on board with NATO operations, focus would be redirected towards two other members of the alliance that are struggling with democracy: Hungary and Poland. Without Türkiye to hide behind, Hungary and Poland would either fall in line with NATO initiatives, or risk being condemned by alliance members now that they’re in the spotlight. Hungary and Poland need not completely reform their democracies to be an asset for the alliance, nor should we expect them to, so long as they don’t stall NATO initiatives. Once Hungary and Poland are pressured into cooperation, NATO could reap the benefits of a more cohesive alliance, which would allow it to be more effective at accomplishing objectives across the board, but also would put autocracies on the defensive. In the absence of hurdles, NATO could pursue large initiatives that would make them more integrated than ever before. Further interdependence would strengthen NATO even more and allow it to take additional steps to promote democracy and condemn autocracy worldwide.

Brazil

Jair Bolsonaro ran on a platform that stoked nationalism among the populace by scapegoating globalization, gender minorities, and environmentalist efforts to protect the Amazon for the economic problems that the country was facing. By diving headfirst into the culture war, Bolsonaro was able to draw upon and weaponize the resentment brewing among the Brazilian public for his own political gain, a tactic that’s being increasingly used by politicians around the world.  Populists like Bolsonaro are able to tie people’s economic qualms to social issues, such as climate change and equality for members of the LGBTQIA+ community, areas which they may be underinformed or misinformed about, and use that confusion to steer them towards them. They identify that there is a problem that is causing dissatisfaction among the general public, pin the problem on something, and then argue that their policies can remedy the fabricated “cause” of the problem. By exploiting the ability to spread information quickly and the willingness of some to take this news at face value and without skepticism, Bolsonaro was able to win the Brazilian Presidential Election in October 2018.

Bolsonaro’s tenure was marked by repeated attempts to undermine democratic institutions, restrict the freedom of press, weaken the checks and balances in place, and was capped off with the promotion of unwarranted claims of electoral fraud. The installation of military officials into high-ranking government positions and efforts to close Congress and the Supreme Court sparked concerns of a return to Brazil’s military dictatorship. Then, in last October, Bolsonaro was unseated by former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in a run-off election, putting an end to his four years in office. Bolsonaro’s war on democracy was far from over, however, and was carried out by his supporters, who stormed the capital, calling for Bolsonaro to be reinstated as president, in an event that quickly drew comparisons to the January 6th insurrection. A cynic may look at these events over the past five years and be pessimistic about for the future of Brazilian democracy; however, Brazilian democracy’s perseverance through all of this offers reason for optimism, as it shows the resiliency of robust institutions in the wake of right-wing challenges.

Among the reasons to be sanguine about the outlook of Brazilian democracy is the durability of institutions. Brazil was only able to survive four years of constant attacks on democracy and an extravagant grand finale at the capital because of its durable institutions, which have been quick to adapt and respond to the attempts at unraveling the system. The Supreme Court’s consistent blocking of Bolsonaro’s undemocratic attempts to expand his power were complemented by Congress’ refusal to pass bills that condoned such behavior. The future looks bright for these institutions as Brazilians have elected a president who has shown a strong commitment to maintaining the integrity of them and working with them to achieve his efforts. Furthermore, the rejection of Bolsonaro’s particular brand of far-right populism by the masses is an indication of the strength of the movement against autocratic governance. The fact that Bolsonaro’s blatant disregard for the liberal international order and his anti-globalization, anti-environmental, and anti-immigrant stances were ultimately dissuasive to the Brazilian public is a win for liberalism and can inspire people worldwide to pushback against far-right populists. While skeptics might point to the recent election of far-right populists in other parts of the world, such as Giorgia Meloni in Italy, as a reason to be cautiously optimistic, or even pessimistic, about the future of global democracy, they underestimate the effect that experiencing a far-right populist presidency has on the strength of the resistance movement. In the United States, for example, a major reason that Joe Biden got 15 million more votes in the 2020 presidential election than Hillary Clinton got in 2016 was because of the resentment people had for the Trump administration—resentment that was only amplified by the administration’s incompetent response to the COVID-19 pandemic. Similarly, after experiencing 4 years of Bolsonaro’s abrasive style of politics, Brazilians reached the same conclusion, and there’s fair reason to believe that Italians will too, and that Italian democracy will emerge stronger than ever.

Closing Thoughts

This article sought to expand the conversation on democratic backsliding by examining the democracies of two powerful international players: Türkiye and Brazil. Turkish democracy is at a crossroads, and it’s likely that the road it embarks upon will depend on the Erdoğan administration’s response to the earthquakes. If the response is successful and receives public praise, it could allow Erdoğan to secure another term, which could spell the end of Turkish democracy. If the response is lackluster and receives continued scrutiny, then a challenger could unseat Erdoğan and revitalize Turkish democracy through pursuing domestic reforms to strengthen the institutions and increase cooperation with its NATO allies, bolstering European democracy in the process. Similarly, Brazil’s democratic resilience offers a case for optimism about the ability of democracy to persevere against right-wing power grabs. Brazil’s ability to withstand several massive shocks to the system indicates remarkable democratic resilience, and not only does Lula’s victory offer a beacon of hope for protestors around the world who are fighting to reverse democratic backsliding in their country, it provides optimism for democratic prospects in other countries, such as Italy. Ultimately, it’s time to look closely at Turkish politics and see if their democracy shares the same resilience as Brazil’s.

The Perils of Democracy: Analyzing the Gradual Rise in Nationalism Among its Institutions

Democratic institutions are created with the consent of the people. More importantly, however, democracy can only remain stable and in power when the leader continues to act with the greater good’s interests in mind. People have always been at odds regarding what democracy truly constitutes, a tension that has increased since the end of the Cold War. Still, even with its systemic flaws, it is commonly believed that this form of government is the best model and that there is no better alternative. However, it is important to address shortcomings as democracy is not stagnant; in the context of democracy as a society, a political body, and an economy, it has inevitably changed over time. 

One such area that requires attention is the perceived value of nationalism. Research scholar Ghia Nodia describes how nationalism and democracy coexist in almost a permanent state of tension. According to Nodia, Western social values often teach us to see democracy as the hero and nationalism as the villain, while in reality, this is not necessarily the case. Nationalism, through a political lens, can be perceived as necessary in that it instills its people with a sense of patriotism, which a successful government requires in a specific class of people: the military. However, as Spohn and Sauer explore in “War zeal, nationalism, and unity in Christ” during World War I, even German Protestant theologians and church leaders were exceptionally susceptible to nationalism and war zeal, resulting in evangelical missions that spurred the cause for war among the masses. Religion evidently plays a large role in the proliferation of nationalist views. This seems plausible in some instances because religion as a doctrine, often teaches its devotees that tradition is the greatest principle and that their actions must seek to preserve this virtue, including a country’s identity. However, this cannot be generalized to all religions because of the differing interpretations of texts by priests or religious leaders.

Although nationalism is integral to the internal fabric of a political body, more often than not, it leads to its destruction. It is important to consider what type of nationalism is present when analyzing its effects on a specific country, however. For example, in sub-Saharan Africa, specifically focusing on the Democratic Republic of Congo, nationalism spread as a political tool. The standing government at the time used nationalism to suppress the opposition and sideline divisions among the citizenry that would otherwise pose a threat to the leadership’s power. This explains much of the instability in the region, the constant riots, and overall civil unrest, because artificially-created nationalism by the ruling class was pushed onto the people instead of “achieved nationalism,” which is rather realized by the people on their own through a sense of pride and trust for their representatives. Achieved nationalism then seems like it would be the most successful in maintaining democracy.

Nonetheless, this is not always true. In addition to religion, the changing desires of the electorate is a driving force behind the formation of nationalist perspectives. In particular, India is a region that has time and time again seen the repercussions of this prevailing attitude. Indians, tired of being oppressed by their British conquerors, sought independence from Britain to be able to have their well-deserved freedom--freedom to shape their own institutions, their own industries, their own national life. They achieved this by uniting together to throw the foreign forces out, resulting in an increased sense of nationalism. 

However, this nationalism quickly deteriorated into polarization with the conflict between the Hindu majority and Muslim minority escalating to the point of division, an ensuing trauma that continues today. The rise of Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Indian politics can be attributed to nationalism. When Modi first came into the public eye, he portrayed himself as a man of the people, a common man with a modest background as a tea vendor at a local train station. His rallying calls to put India first, to rebuild the economy by providing greater infrastructure and jobs, appealed to voters of all classes. He represented the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), or the Indian People’s Party, a name which itself reflects an ideology that prizes the collective people. Through this image, he was able to champion himself as a man of the people, in contrast to his opponents, and easily won with a sweeping majority of the votes. Modi’s popularity among the people has allowed him to seemingly get away with just about anything. Most recently, Indian citizens and their belief in Modi were tested when the tensions in Kashmir escalated. By unjustifiably removing Article 370, which would remove special protections for the regions, Modi put not only India at stake, but also the people of Jammu-Kashmir, Pakistan, and Afghanistan, as well as the very meaning of democracy. This has become such a contentious topic between the Western world denouncing Modi’s actions and his partisans praising him. When I conducted interviews with my own family in India, all of them said they support Modi, claiming that he is simply helping the region of Kashmir, which had been torn politically, economically, and socially ever since its creation, and that India has the right to take over and protect the Hindu minority in the area. In their eyes, at the same time, Western media portrays a different story: that Modi is akin to an authoritarian, taking land from the people of Kashmir like the British did in India. 

There are countless examples of populism devolving into dictatorships, such as those seen in Hungary, Turkey, and Venezuela where the concentration of power in the hands of the elected leaders and their changing behaviors slowly diminish the people’s trust in democracy. Mirroring Modi’s election, these respective candidates won in the first place because they seemed to be “the people’s men.” Not fulfilling these promises leaves people unhappy and creates a class that is ripe for the revolution, a truth that these leaders clearly ignore or simply do not care about. In fact, this was one of the pressures that culminated in the Arab Spring uprisings. Due to the people’s discontent with their government, there was an overwhelming sense of anti-nationalism, which “propelled discourse about liberation from an oppressive regime,” and the lack of nationalism also leads to factionalism within the regional states as well, leading to a shift in power from the federal to the state governments, in turn harming the ruling body itself. 

These rulers are able to methodically rise to power and stay in power by ridding themselves of any possible threats by first deeming that the opposition is misrepresenting the leader’s actions and branding them with the trait of anti-nationalism. Using the bully pulpit as a medium to disseminate false and spiteful views, the leader traps the uneducated and uninformed, who fall into a mobocracy that becomes increasingly polarized, with one side supporting the leader while the other protests and seeks to promote change. This is seen most evidently with the current democratic state of the United States. Donald Trump, similar to Modi, was able to attain his presidency by appealing to the common, working-class people of American society, by promising jobs, a better economy, among others. He works under a false image of devotion to the country; rather, as Lepore writes, patriotism is animated by love, nationalism by hatred. 

Once the president or leading governing body has planted the seeds for nationalism, however, it is natural to ponder as to who sows these seeds and ensures the views prosper. Inevitably, because democracy is authorized by the consent of the people, even a nationalist leader would not be able to maintain a stable polity without their support. This is where social media comes in. When Twitter was founded in 2006, it was meant to be a platform of communication and expression, a way to stay up to date with issues whether on a person or a global level. Originally, it was just used by the common person and not given much attention by the government or its agencies. But things quickly changed with Twitter becoming a medium for hate speech. Note that it is not a question here as to whether or not hate speech should be allowed, but rather here the focus is on its relation to nationalism as a result of the discourse of the time. The propagation of such hate groups is often linked with physical attacks against minorities. Although hate speech and hate crime do not always have a direct correlation, speech often serves as a catalyst due to its sometimes incendiary and dividing nature; this is seen with how white supremacist groups, such as the Ku Klux Klan, operate with a select group of people instigating and stirring the disgruntled masses. According to statistics released by the FBI, it is clear that hate crimes are seeing no decline as in 2017 alone, over eight-thousand hate crime offenses were reported. These groups continue the cycle that began with the President all in a fake sham of nationalism. 

Again, it is necessary to consider why countries value a degree of nationalism.  As expressed in Nationalism and Democracy:

“Patriotic celebration of such things may grate on the sensibilities of individualistic liberals, but it offers no threat to ethnic minorities. On the contrary, a custom of tolerance for minorities can also become a point of national pride, as it has in the case of many Americans or citizens of other long-established democratic nations.”

In this sense, a celebration of diversity warrants feelings of nationalism. Yet, it is difficult not to find these words ironic. In a country founded on the back of immigrants and minorities, people of color are still discriminated against, with those with darker skin facing the most backlash. In addition to being underrepresented in public office and Congress, minorities feel unheard by their president. For Americans to truly be able to feel a sense of national pride in terms of their treatment of minorities then, they must take a step back and reflect on whether or not America is the same for all, or if it is a living nightmare for others. 

Countries such as the United States and India, now through its pursuits in Kashmir, as well as other well-developed and developing democracies, continue fearlessly in their endless goals of nation-building. However, given the assessment of the existence of nationalism and other autocratic tendencies, the first step is for these countries to pay greater attention and focus their political and sociological research and studies towards this exact question. Then, once the root of the problem is identified along with any other possible factors, policymakers must act to find a solution after which they can report to their officials. Convening in a national conference, global leaders can then discuss how to better the circumstances and decide whether or not compromise is necessary. While this background work is being done to widen our knowledge on the issue, if a country must intervene in the affairs of another, to help form or stabilize democracy, the least harmful method would be to station a few troops in the region--this way the country can maintain indirect control without doing anything that will cause harm in the long run. But until then, one must keep a vigilant eye on the upcoming United States 2020 presidential election.

The Deficit the EU Should Really Worry About Is Not Fiscal – It’s Democratic

Earlier in February, the European Commission – the executive arm of the EU – published a report outlining a pessimistic economic outlook and persistent substantial market risks in the region, with the projected real GDP growth rate under 2 percent for 2020. The report came at a time the strength of European institutions is tested not only by poor macroeconomic indicators but also by declining citizen confidence in the ability of supranational governance to be transparent and accountable. According to a 2018 Eurobarometer poll, less than two-thirds of Europeans are satisfied with the opportunities for individual citizens to participate in political life. More alarmingly, voter turnout for the European Parliament elections has fallen by over 30 percent since 1980s and now constitutes only 40 percent of the EU population.

Weakening citizen trust – the main symptom of the EU’s growing ‘democratic deficit’ – and worsening economic performance are, however, not just coinciding with one another by chance. The perceived legitimacy of the EU, more so than that of the majority of political arrangements, is highly dependent on its delivery of satisfactory economic results to member-states. Economic self-interest, as illustrated by Britain’s break from Brussels, is a powerful driver of both regional integration and disintegration. Despite the limitations of examining the European project through a performance efficiency lens, the notion that a single common market – with standardized regulations and supervisory mechanisms – is good for member states continues to prevail in explanations of the EU’s emergence and survival.

The 2010 crisis, low levels of growth, high unemployment, and Italy’s current standoff with Brussels over its 2019 budget all undermine result-based legitimacy of the EU and can leave lasting damage on its authority. National governments and the public might be prompted to question the economic desirability of staying in the Union. While unlikely to follow the path of the UK and withdraw completely, countries can potentially model their conduct after Italy and undermine the internal cohesion of the EU by disregarding its rules.

No less urgent are concerns about the transparency and accountability of the European system of governance, oftentimes perceived as an elitist, unelected technocracy. Many citizens believe that supranational decision-making is becoming only more inaccessible to them due to its increasing complexity. The worsening of regional democratic deficit manifests itself in lower voter turnout and overall weaker citizen support for the European project.

The perceived failure of regional institutions to provide member-states with clear and otherwise unattainable economic benefits and the unresponsiveness of EU governance to the concerns of ordinary citizens both pose a major threat to the continuous success and even survival of the European project. However, the debate surrounding these two shortcomings of the current institutional setup not only tends to overlook the interconnectedness of the two issues but oftentimes portrays democratization of regional governance and economically optimal outcomes as being at odds with each other. From the ancient Greeks to the modern-day libertarians, the ‘short-sightedness and ignorance’ of the masses are cited as the reasons institutional arrangements – especially in spheres so technical as fiscal and monetary policy – should be protected from excessive popular influence if they are to yield desirable results. In the sphere of European economic and financial governance, however, the opposite seems to be true.

The undemocratic procedures by which European budgets and money are managed erode not only citizen confidence but the performance efficiency of European institutions. Greece provides perhaps the most telling lesson in the importance of transparency and accountability in economic governance on the national level, which is no less applicable to supranational institutions. It was, after all, falsification of data on the levels of sovereign debt that triggered the country’s crisis in 2010 and its subsequent spillover into the rest of the eurozone. The Greek government’s failure to accurately report on the country’s financial standing led to dramatic downgrades of Greek government bonds and overall reduced the attractiveness of the country’s financial markets.

That same year, several EU audit institutions published a joined report that acknowledged the importance of fiscal transparency and proper oversight of public finance management in crisis prevention and mitigation. Following the financial turmoil of 2010, a new strategy for the development of the European Monetary Union (EMU) identified “democratic legitimacy and accountability” as one of the five building blocks forming a more robust monetary system. All in all, EU officials seem to be coming to the realization that democratic accountability is more than a just complementary dimension of political legitimacy. It is an essential component of a sound economic and financial structure, upheld by both voter and investor confidence.

The unwillingness of technocratic elites to introduce democratic controls to the procedures that govern EU’s financial and monetary affairs will only strengthen the appeal of populism. Arguments pointing out the benefits of a technocratic form of governance over national economies and public finance are typically underpinned by the assumption that the average voter cannot be trusted with control over her country’s power of the purse. Such contempt for the ordinary citizen is what gives validity to claims like that of Michael Grove, who, at the height of Brexit, announced that the UK people “have had enough of experts.”

What makes technocratic arguments more dangerous is their propensity to shy away from the evident need for greater economic and financial literacy among the populace. Aside from the established associations this form of literacy has with countries’ national prosperity, citizens with a clearer understanding of the issues discussed away from the prying eyes of the public have better chances of becoming legitimate participates in policy debates that affect their everyday lives. It is, of course, unreasonable to expect an ordinary European to acquire the technical expertise necessary to understand all the intricacies of fiscal and monetary affairs of their countries and the EU, yet unelected officials deliberating on vital issues behind closed doors out of an irrational fear of the masses should seem no less absurd.

The Electoral College – The Good, Bad, and Ugly of our Democracy

Although the electoral college is widely regarded as an undemocratic system, and some even advocate its removal, its critics offer scant few alternatives that accomplish the same goals as the electoral college. Around 65 percent of Americans support electing the president solely by a national popular vote, with just one-third of the country still supporting the electoral college. The people advocating for the abolition of  the Electoral College are correct in saying that the Electoral College method is not democratic in a modern sense. The Constitution states that “Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors, equal to the whole Number of Senators and Representatives to which the State may be entitled in the Congress.” It is these electors who elect the president, not the people. When you vote for a presidential candidate you’re actually voting for a slate of electors, but each party selects a slate of electors trusted to vote for the party’s nominee (and that trust is rarely betrayed).

Some opponents of the Electoral College point out its failure to accurately reflect the national popular vote. This has to be one of the biggest and most known issue with the electoral college - it doesn’t determine who wins by popular vote and sometimes popular vote is different than how the electorate votes. The elections of 1876, 1888, 2000, and  2016 produced an Electoral College winner who did not receive at least a plurality of the nationwide popular vote.

Opponents also say the distribution of Electoral votes in the College tends to favor people in rural States. This is because the number of Electors for each State is determined by the number of members it has in the House (which more or less reflects the State's population size) plus the number of members it has in the Senate (which is always two regardless of the State's population). If you look at the election of 1988, for example, the combined voting age population (3,119,000) of the seven least populous districts in Alaska, Delaware, the District of Columbia, North Dakota, South Dakota, Vermont, and Wyoming carried the same voting strength in the Electoral College (21 Electoral votes) as the 9,614,000 persons of voting age in the State of Florida. Each Floridian's potential vote, then, carried about one third the weight of a potential vote in the other States listed. Another way the Electoral College fails to accurately reflect the national popular vote stems primarily from the winner-take-all system where the presidential candidate who wins the most popular votes in the State wins all the Electoral votes of that State. This makes it extremely difficult for third-party or independent candidates to make much of a showing in the Electoral College. If, for example, a third-party or independent candidate were to win the support of even as many as 25% of the voters nationwide, they might still end up with no Electoral College votes at all unless they won a plurality of votes in at least one State. And even if that candidate managed to win a few States, his support elsewhere would not be reflected.

Despite these shortcomings, the Electoral College does have its benefits. While it is true that almost all states award all their electoral votes to the winner of the popular vote in the state and it is also true that because the Electoral College weighs the less populous states more heavily, it is possible that the winner of the electoral vote will not win the national popular vote. However, critics of the system fail to recognize that this happens very rarely. It happened in 2000 when then Vice President Al Gore had more popular votes than President George W. Bush, yet fewer electoral votes. It also happened 16 years later, in the 2016 election, with Secretary Hillary Clinton receiving more popular votes than President Donald Trump. However, these were the only two times since 1888 where the winner of the popular vote differed from the winner of the electoral college. We also have to consider several factors before just getting rid of this important facet of our republic. We also have to keep in mind that this is a system run by people, so there are bound to be a few flaws in it.

The Electoral College also provides us with a clear winner, with no run offs and no recounts. Let’s say the country had a system where just the popular vote could produce a winner. What would happen if each candidate gets a very close margin of victory, like what happened with President Obama and then Governor Romney in 2012. This could (and probably would) provoke some sort of an outcry and there would be runoffs, unrest, and uncertainty. Presidents Nixon and Clinton, in 1968 and 1992 respectively, both had only 43 percent of the popular vote so they had to rely on the electoral college to determine winners in both cases instead of having to use run offs.

The Electoral College also keeps a system of fair representation and ensures smaller, rural populations get a say.  Let’s go back to the 2012 Election of President Obama. President Obama swept the urban metropolises, getting 3.6 million more votes that Governor Romney in just Chicago, Philadelphia, New York City, and Los Angeles. If we went by popular vote President Obama would have easily won solely because these places are more populated and areas that aren’t metropolises would have been overlooked. Also, it is not as if the electoral college took away victory from President Obama in this election, as he did get 3.2 million more votes than Mitt Romney which the college reflected.

Our current system also makes sure we get a transregional president. Not one region has power to elect president, so each region and their specific needs are not overlooked. The Electoral College takes the midwest, north, northeastern coast, west, the west coastal, south, etc… into consideration. If popular vote was the decider, two possible situations could arise. Candidates would have to really travel around the whole country multiple times. This means candidates would need a lot more money to finance all this traveling, giving PACs and people with more money more leverage, more pull, and more power in our elections. Or you could see a situation where candidates would have no motivation to campaign in rural and less-densely populated areas, so they would only go to cities. Without the electoral college, no candidate would visit certain states like Idaho, for example. Elections would become more about reaching out for money or the places with the biggest populations and become less need and issue based.

There is also a lot of talk on keeping the electoral college, but changing it. One option for reform that gets floated around is the congressional district plan. The congressional district plan will allow one elector to be chosen by the voters for each congressional district, while an additional two, representing the two “senatorial” are allocated to each state regardless of population, would be chosen by the voters at large. If the vote results in a tie, whichever candidate won a plurality of the district votes would win. If the electoral vote count still failed to produce a winner, the plan would require the Senate and House to meet in joint session to elect President and VP by majority vote, with each Member having one vote, from the three candidate tickets winning the most electoral votes. Nebraska and Maine currently implement the district method of allocating electoral votes; Maine has never used it, though, since all candidates who have won the state swept its two districts, while Nebraska split its electoral votes once, in 2008, when Obama won one district. Breaking up electors by congressional district would get rid of winner take all, but you would need to ensure districts are drawn properly and fairly.

Another plan for reform is the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact. This compact would be an agreement between states to award their electoral votes to the winner of the national popular vote.  The compact is designed to ensure that the candidate who wins the most popular votes is elected president, and it would come into effect only when it would guarantee that outcome. As of February 2019, it has been adopted by eleven states and the District of Columbia. Together, they have 172 electoral votes, which is 32.0% of the Electoral College and 63.7% of the 270 votes needed to give the compact legal force.

The Electoral College doesn’t guarantee the president elect will have received the most popular votes, but it does guarantee we have a president with substantial popular support and their support will not be restricted to one region of the country or to metropolises. In just five of the 58 elections we had, the winner did not have the popular vote so at the end of the day how bad and how undemocratic could this system really be?

Youth as a Catalyst for Change in Nicaragua

“SOS Nicaragua” the autoconvocados, or self-organized, yell in protest across Nicaragua. College students are organizing nationwide protests in order to change their country’s leadership. Millennials are taking the lead in hopes of bringing serious reform and reversing President Daniel Ortega’s policies. In April, Ortega implemented a social security policy that would reduce benefits for retirees and increase taxes on workers. Since then, the Nicaraguan government has faced backlash. The autoconvocados garner support from the majority of people in the country, despite the authoritarian response exhibited by the Ortega government. During the last election, he banned the main opposition party. He continues to maintain control over the military, the media and most branches of government. Nicaraguan university students want to end government repression, fearing that push Nicaragua will join Venezuela in being one of the only two Latin American countries to regress from democracy.

The first wave of student protest called for democratic change and an end to the recent government policies. These protests culminated in the deaths of several students, who were killed by Ortega supporters that found the students call to action threatening to an already weakening Ortega regime. A civic insurrection followed as furious citizens responded. Journalist Kyra Gurney explains in the Miami Herald that:

“Few could have been psychologically prepared for the violence the Ortega administration has unleashed on the protesters. The intensity of the demonstrations, and the response from government forces, have come as a surprise for many in Nicaragua, which in recent years has been a relatively safe, stable country. The Ortega administration has denied responsibility for the killings, blaming criminal groups and characterizing the protesters as right-wing gangs.”

According to the Organization of American States (OAS), 1,337 have been wounded, 212 killed and 507 arrested since the protests began. This does not include several undocumented kidnappings and murders. These clashes that began in April mark the deadliest protests in Nicaragua since its civil war ended in 1990.

The United Nations condemned human rights abuses perpetrated by pro-government forces. While the UN released a statement claiming that “The UN is available to assist national dialogue efforts to strengthen the rule of law, respect for human rights and the peaceful resolution of differences,” international attention on the situation is lacking.

The United States, which has a history of intervening in Nicaragua’s internal political affairs, should help mitigate the crisis by discussing options to grant asylum and place sanctions on high ranking Nicaraguan officials. Manuel Orozco characterizes the situation well, writing in the New York Times that “Mr. Ortega has shown that he responds only to pressure. In response to the demonstrations, he rescinded the social security plan that triggered the protests, and he freed some of the demonstrators who were jailed. The pressure must be sustained.” The lack of international uproar does not help the civilian agenda calling for stronger democratic institutions and early elections in 2019. The U.S. should enforce the Global Magnitsky Act- an American law used to punish people around the world for human rights violations - to further sanction members of Ortega’s business inner circle who sponsor his political agenda. This could apply to election commissioners who aided Ortega throughout fraudulent elections. Greater sanctions on individuals can aid the peaceful transfer of power in all branches of government.

Nicaraguans are afraid to leave their homes to protest because of the chance that they will be targeted and imprisoned. The Roman Catholic church is working to build peaceful coalitions to mitigate street riots. Following peace talks between student organizers, the Catholic Church and the government, the social security policy was amended. However, this does not make up for the restrictive path the government is continuing the follow.

Nicaraguan students remain committed to political change. Kyra Gurney explains the capabilities of the student movement as such:

“Despite their lack of preparation, however, the students have managed to keep their new bunker running smoothly. Each one of the roughly 900 students living at the university which they have occupied as a main base for their protests, which normally has about 40,000 students, has a specific task based on his or her major. The medical students run makeshift clinics. The law students document human rights violations and communicate with local human rights groups. The economics students administer the meager and financial donations.”

By maintain opposition despite a lack of resource, young Nicaraguans can inspire other youth movements in repressive countries around the world. In an effort redefine their country’s future, students have used social media as an outlet to broadcast the atrocities occurring across the country, since most public broadcasting is censored by the government. Autoconvocados are active in the diaspora as well. Nicaraguan-American citizens are organizing small rallies across the United States and pressuring their politicians to draft bills to sanction multiple Nicaraguan entities. This step is the first of many in hopes of garnering greater international attention while shaping a more stable and democratic Nicaragua.

Tunisia: Secularism, Political-Islam, and Democracy

On December 17th, 2011, a Tunisian street vendor named Mohamed Bouazizi lit himself on fire in what many perceived to be a protest against police corruption, a crumbling economy, and the lack social mobility in Tunisia. Bouazizi’s protest, which ultimately led to his death, initiated a series of events that are now called the “Arab Spring.” Tunisia, Bouazizi’s country, and the site of the Jasmine Revolution, the first of the pro-democracy uprisings in the Arab world, is also one of the few success stories of the so-called Arab Spring because of the successful constitution drafting process and peaceful transfers of power. Historically, Tunisia has been one of the most moderate, pro-west, Muslim countries. A strong secular predisposition in former French colonies provided for a more agreeable societal context for a Western style liberal democracy. Because of its history as a former French colony, Tunisia holds a great propensity for successful democratization through its secular predisposition and pro-western leanings.

Tunisia has been part of European colonial interests dating back to at least the Roman Empire. France colonized Tunisia in 1881, and like all colonial entities, attempted to eradicate indigenous culture and replace it with its own. Most notable is the cultural significance of Laicite, or, secularism. In French culture, it is widely accepted that a person’s religious identity is private. As Tunisia decolonized, Laicite remained a valued aspect of Tunisia’s culture. Tunisia held a strong policy of secular rule, which was never seriously contested until the events following the Arab Spring.

Political Islam originated in Egypt as a way to combat European colonists. A French colonial expedition in 1798 routed Egyptian forces, and Egyptian officers learned that they could not successfully counter European military prowess. In order to counteract European meddling within the Middle East, Muslim leaders formed the Salafiyya movement, which stipulates a parochial interpretation of the Quran. In 1929, an Islamic scholar named Hassan al-Banna founded the Muslim Brotherhood, the first iteration of modern political Islam as it is understood today. Political Islam was initially an anti-colonial opposition movement to Western and Christian influence on Egyptian politics, swiftly spreading throughout the region. Religious opponents of the secular regime in Tunisia subscribed to political Islam as a form of contention.

In Tunisia, religion served as a catalyst for democratization, Ennahda, an offshoot of the Muslim Brotherhood was a central player in all aspects of Tunisia’s transition. As an Islamist party, Ennahda was in a position to centralize power in the hands of religious leaders rather than political ones, yet they did not, helping to further Tunisia’s transition. One of the requirements of a democracy is the dilution of power through multiple centers of power. Religion could be a tool for democratization, as it was in Tunisia, or one for enforcing authoritarian rule, as it is in other countries. When civil rights, including religious rights, are respected, as in Tunisia, religion enhances democracy. In countries like Saudi Arabia, for example, religion is used to suppress rights. In the latter case, minorities are marginalized and oppressed, because the will of the majority trumps minority beliefs. Without multiple centers of power, individuals can consolidate power and create an authoritarian regime.

Tunisia’s attempt at democratization has been, relative to other Arab Spring countries, a resounding success through its transitory and consolidating periods. Power between Ennahda and Nidaa Tounes, a secular party, was peacefully transferred in the 2014 parliamentary elections. Tunisia’s decision to opt for a parliamentary system will prevent consolidations of power like those that occurred under the Imperial Presidencies of Habib Bourguiba and Zine al-Abedine Ben Ali and will allow a more diverse range of political parties to come into the fold. In 2014, Tunisia’s voter turnout was 68% , which is above the average turnout for new democracies. Civil society is respected, Islamic elements are allowed to contribute to politics, and there have only been peaceful transfers of power. While time will tell, it is becoming increasingly clear that Tunisia’s attempt at Western style democracy stands a robust chance of long term success.

Modern Tunisia

In 1957, Tunisia achieved independence from France largely due to the efforts by the Neo Destour, or the New Constitutional Liberal Party (NCLP). The NCLP was a Tunisian nationalist party subscribing to Bourguibism, a term named after Habib Bourguiba who was independent Tunisia’s first president. Bourguibism mandated policies of state capitalism, or blurred lines between the public and private sectors, and Tunisian nationalism and secularism, of which the main goal was a repression of political Islam. According to Middle East expert Michael Hudson (1977) Bourguiba wished for Tunisia to act as a conduit between the Western world, and the Islamic world. The NCLP’s policies concerning the modernity of Tunisian culture can be named as causes for the more egalitarian Tunisian stance on women's rights and diversity. Finally, Bourguibism was non-militarist. Bourguiba frequently argued that Tunisia had more pressing concerns than maintaining a powerful military apparatus. Funding that under other circumstances would be directed towards the military, instead went toward the development of the economy and other civil or state institutions.

After exiling or imprisoning his rivals, Bourguiba finally consolidated power and he outlawed all parties besides his own. Western countries tolerated Bourguiba’s regime because he was secular and open to Western investments, despite his authoritarian policies. Bourguiba’s Tunisia was run as a secular state, and although religion was allowed, the state brutally repressed any political applications of religion, preventing a large percentage of more conservative, rural, citizens predisposed towards Islamist-politics--something that would come to a head when the Ennahda party came to power in 2011. The suppression of political Islam under the imperial presidents facilitated its explosion during the onset of the Arab Spring.

In the early 1980s, Europe’s economy was faltering, and Tunisia, dependent on a thriving European economy, suffered as well. Bourguiba sought a loan from the IMF in order to bolster Tunisia’s economy, and it was granted in 1983. Strict austerity, however, was an IMF prerequisite for the loan and ultimately caused inflated bread prices, which further damaged the already weak agricultural sector of Tunisia’s economy. Riots began in the poor Nefzaoua region in Tunisia’s south, and ultimately spread throughout the country. Bourguiba’s attempt at quelling civil unrest killed over 100 civilians. Thousands of people were jailed and critical newspapers were shut down. The Islamic Tendency Movement (MTI), founded and led by Rashid Al-Ghannushi, faced the harshest retribution. MTI was an offshoot of the Muslim Brotherhood, and the forerunners to the Ennahda party.

Bourguiba’s health declined in the 1980s and ultimately left him unable to rule. In 1987, Zine el Abidine Ben Ali came to power in a bloodless coup. Ben Ali began his career as a military officer, and became the Interior Minister before his appointment as Prime Minister in 1986. Ben Ali’s regime, like Bourguiba’s, was authoritarian. Censorship of the press continued, the constitution was amended to allow for Ben Ali to remain in power, and Islamist groups, many of which existed under the al-Nahda party, were repressed and hundreds were imprisoned, tortured, and killed. Islamists in Tunisia helped to facilitate the democratic transition, and because of their experience as an oppressed group, helped to enhance it as well.  

In 2011, the first of the popular “Arab Spring” uprisings, called the “Jasmine Revolution” began. Many people were upset with the continuance of the totalitarian system under Ben Ali, along with the poor economy and rampant corruption. Islamist groups, however, did not orchestrate the Jasmine Revolution, and secular traditions were still dominant. Unlike Egypt, where the Muslim Brotherhood co-opted anti Mubarak protests, Tunisia’s Islamist-party never became the major the anti-government actor.

Amid raging protests, sustained levels of economic depression and a lack of political and military support, Ben Ali resigned and left Tunisia for Saudi Arabia. A new constitution was drafted, going through many incarnations with Islamists playing a large role in its formation. The Ennahda party initially advocated for a more Islamic government rooted in Sharia, but tempered their demands when faced with the political realities of a culturally secular Tunisia. Monica L. Marks, a political scientist at the Brooking’s Institute argues that:

On the place of sharia in the constitution, for example, the party ultimately opted not to include the word. While Ennahda members do look to sharia as an ideal ethical framework, most members accept a more abstract, ethical definition of Islamic law (focusing on social justice, equality, and good governance). Key members of the Shura Council were persuaded that this was the appropriate course of action for the party, keeping itself a relevant and viable political player.

The Ennahda party recognized that in order to institute any modicum of Islamic values in Tunisia, it would have to moderate its platform from the outright Islamic rule that is the position of groups like the Muslim Brotherhood. In the 2011 parliamentary elections, Ennahda led the “troika,” a coalition of Ennahda, the Democratic Forum for Labor and Liberties, and the Congress for the Republic to a resounding victory. The Troika controlled 117 seats, and Ennahda held 89 seats itself. It is clear that Ennahda held a significant amount of support within Tunisia, but its inability to maintain that majority in the 2014 elections (Ennahda went from 89 seats to 69, and lost the plurality to a secular party), suggests that its dominance of the political realm directly after the uprising was more of an anti-establishment explosion than a recognizable trend in Tunisian politics.

Although Ennahda lost seats in 2014, it is second only to the majority Nida Tounes, a center-left, secular party. Of the five strongest parties in Tunisian politics, four of them are secular. The plurality of secular parties prevents their constituents from uniting unless a coalition is formed. Ennahda is one of the only representatives for Islamists. For the most part, tensions between political Islam and secular parties in Tunisia have thus far been handled through negotiation, rather than violence. Despite a significant portion of the population supporting Ennahda, the government established by the constitution has remained solvent, rather than backsliding into dysfunction.  

Although Tunisian civil and political societies are largely dominated by a plurality of secular groups, political Islam is a considerable force in both the country and the region. Approximately 99% of the country is Sunni Muslim, and after surviving the anti-religious policies of Bourguiba and Ben Ali, they would not want their rights to be suppressed again. The type of oppression Egyptian President Sisi instituted over Islamists led them to violent extremism in the Sinai Peninsula. If Tunisian secular groups prevent Islamists from participating in government, it is possible that they will turn to violent opposition as well. So far, Ennahda’s inclusion in Tunisian politics presents a hopeful scenario because political Islam is included in Tunisian politics, if the current trend holds, any future disputes will be settled democratically.

Tunisian society appears both more inclusive and more moderate than other Arab countries. Tunisia’s embrace of women’s rights, political Islam, and secularism facilitate a culturally diverse and vibrate country. Tunisia’s decision to implement a parliamentary system instead of a presidential system is a further indication of its inclusiveness and willingness to tolerate a diverse range of political views, as well as to prevent power from being consolidated by one person.

Conclusion

Tunisia’s democratization is thus far a success. A culture of tolerant secularism and inclusion has allowed Tunisia to incorporate Islamist elements into its politics without centralizing power. Tunisia’s two post-revolution elections--2011 and 2014—were conducted fairly. Ennahda moderated its position instead of acting intransigently, allowing Tunisia’s democratization to progress. A multitude of political perspectives, though secular at their base, are represented in Tunisia’s government, and such inclusiveness will help combat future instability. The common ingredients for a democracy are present: minority rights; frequent and fair elections (so far); dilution of power; increasing freedom of press; and most importantly, Tunisians themselves want it. After struggling against two dictatorial leaders and through an arduous revolution, Tunisia has stands on the precipice of a truly consolidated democracy.

Guatemala and the Limitations of Democratic Peace Theory

In 1954, the United States covertly intervened in Guatemala, orchestrating a paramilitary coup d’état that deposed the democratically elected, Liberal government and installed a brutally repressive right-wing military junta. The story is well-known among Latin Americanists and foreign policy skeptics, but its theoretical significance for international relations (IR) has thus far been understated. More than just a foreign policy blunder, the case of Guatemala in 1954 represents the limitations of one of IR’s dominant frameworks: Democratic Peace Theory (DPT). DPT fails because it improperly conceives of its two key concepts—democracy and peace—ultimately narrowing them beyond any practically useful definition (e.g., one whose premises accurately reflect the world’s state of affairs). Western-style democracies—founded on Liberal values and free market capitalism—have no theoretical monopoly on legitimate democratic governance. To suggest otherwise ignores the realities and possibilities of equally legitimate democratic governance that may differ in form. Furthermore, and in spite of DPT, the absence of war does not sufficiently imply peace. To suggest otherwise insults the realities of torture, police brutality, disappearances, and other human rights abuses that happen off the battlefield, but which violate peace nonetheless.

DPT and Its Discontents

DPT is the closest thing we have to a natural law of international relations—we are often reminded—and its mainstream proponents claim three principal reasons that, when combined, create a special peace among democracies. First, citizens of democracies wield power over their governments, and their natural reluctance to go to war limits democratic countries’ proclivity for war-making. Second, the leaders of democratic countries face institutional constraints on their powers; unlike kings and emperors, presidents and prime ministers must answer to legislatures and voters, causing decisions to go to war to be based on multiple actors and timelines. Third, democracies are founded on values that naturally prioritize and respect individuals’ right to life, ensuring their philosophical predisposition to peace. Beyond these three mainstream explanations, some scholars argue that democracies enjoy peaceful relations due to their related economic development—war disrupts trade, and hence, democracies desirous of economic prosperity stop fighting and start signing trade agreements. Others argue that democracies are better at trusting one another because of their “unique contracting advantages” that make them more able and willing to negotiate peacefully amongst themselves. Whatever the reasons, proponents of DPT all ultimately maintain the same principle: democracies “don’t attack each other.”

Though several scholars support DPT, several others do not. DPT’s discontents consist of both quantitatively and qualitatively oriented critiques. Quantitative critiques suggest that theorists manipulate their variables and selectively limit the scope of their dataset in order to produce more favorable results. Qualitative critiques argue that democracy is a subjectively understood construction and, therefore, unreliable as a variable upon which to base peace claims. However, such critiques are not without flaws of their own. Quantitative opponents of DPT suffer from the same hindrance as the theory’s proponents, for the danger of quantitative methodologies is that of over-simplification, which excludes alternative, but nonetheless democratic forms of political participation. If we can rank countries on a scale of “objective” criteria required for democracy, then we risk excluding phenomena like protest, union membership, and so on that less traditionally characterize democracies and which are generally more observable through qualitative methods. DPT measures any given country’s democratic-ness with the Polity index, scoring countries out of ten on—for instance—open and fair elections, constitutionalism, and political participation. But, the Polity index does not account for alternative forms of democratic political action such as non-violent demonstrations and human rights activism. In Guatemala, the former led to the overthrow of the U.S.-backed dictator Jorge Ubico and the latter led the world to recognize the government’s genocide of indigenous Maya people. Defining which countries count as democracies and which do not is a political project and, if we remain skeptical of DPT proponents’ supposed objectivity, then we must also remain so for DPT’s opponents that adopt the same methodology. In addition, I remain skeptical of mainstream qualitative critiques’ subtle Eurocentrism. It is quite easy to claim that democracies are constructed by “America-like” discourses when the cases studied consist primarily of central and eastern European countries—countries with which a large portion of the U.S.’s population shares its heritage. It is a bit harder to identify cases that contradict DPT from the global South, as Guatemala does. Though DPT’s proponents may not get it right, to a certain extent, neither do its critics.

Usurpation and Inter-Democracy Violence in Guatemala

The U.S. intervened in Guatemala in 1954 to overthrow the legitimately elected government that sought to promote Liberal, capitalist reform. In 1901, the Guatemalan dictator Manuel Estrada Cabrera granted the United Fruit Company, an American multinational agricultural corporation, the exclusive right to transport post between the U.S. and Guatemala, which became the company’s first entry into the country. United Fruit primarily produced bananas, eventually dominating the market, and creating disparate inequalities in Guatemalan landholdings. By 1944, 2% of Guatemala’s population held over 72% of the land. Moreover, according to Insatiable Appetite by the University of California, Davis’ Richard Tucker, U.S. agro-industrial capitalists—who needed ports, roads, and other vital infrastructure to export their products from Guatemala—controlled nearly every aspect in the chain of production through centralized, vertical integration of Guatemalan production and infrastructure. By 1902, Tucker finds that agro-industries like United Fruit “controlled most banana shipping to Europe, as well as to the United States,” and by 1912, it controlled the International Railways of Central America. Furthermore, Tucker notes that United Fruit ran the Guatemalan postal service and Latin America’s first wireless telegraph company, the Tropical Radio and Telegraph Company. Meanwhile, policymakers in the U.S. Departments of State and Defense lined their pockets with shares in United Fruit (now known as Chiquita Brands International).

Eventually, popular uprisings ousted the authoritarian government and elected Guatemala’s first democratic president, Juan José Arévalo, who dreamed of Liberal, capitalist reforms and cited Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal as his primary source of political inspiration. In 1950, Arévalo’s democratically elected successor, Jacobo Árbenz implemented the controversial land expropriation policy Decree 900, which sought to break up United Fruit’s monopoly and combat the inequalities in landholdings. Árbenz’s Decree 900 drew upon Arévalo’s vision. In 1954, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) intervened in Guatemala, training Honduran and Nicaraguan proxy troops that stormed Guatemala City and forced Árbenz to abdicate power. As justification, the U.S. labelled Guatemala a communist state infringing upon free market capitalism and individuals’ land rights. According to the then-Ambassador to Guatemala, John Peurifoy, and despite significant evidence to the contrary, Árbenz “thought like a communist, he acted like a communist, and if he is not one […] he will do until one comes along.” In a nearly cartoonish exaggeration of the Guatemalan political situation, the CIA overthrew a legitimately elected democracy that deliberately incorporated elements of American policy in order to advance Liberal, capitalist development and promote market competition.

The Limitations of the Democratic Peace

U.S. intervention in Guatemala in 1954 demonstrates how DPT improperly conceptualizes democracy as a specific type of government that is Western-styled, Liberal, free market, and allied with the U.S. politically and ideologically. Polity IV counts Guatemala just before the U.S. intervention as an “open anocracy” characterized by “mixed, or incoherent, authority.” Arévalo’s and Árbenz’s reforms therefore do not sufficiently reach the threshold of democratic governance for DPT. But, Polity’s mistake lies in its lack of consideration for states’ democratic capacities. In its first ever legitimate, national elections, Guatemalans clearly showed their democratic volition, but were plagued by the lack of democratic institutions typical of other, established democracies. To the extent that it could reasonably be considered so, Guatemala was a democracy in 1954 in that it had open, fair elections, support for Liberal human rights, and reforms to establish free and fair market competition. However, factoring in democratic capacity did little to make Guatemala a democracy in the eyes of policymakers. Recall how, despite the Liberal, democratic, and capitalist reforms instituted and sought after, U.S. policymakers claimed that, if the Árbenz administration was not communist, it “would do until one came along.” U.S. policymakers imagined the threat of communism in Guatemala because it did not pursue conservative, free market ideologies as the U.S. did, and because it did not explicitly reject the same Cold War allies that the U.S. did; and Guatemala subsequently was not considered a democratic country in spite of evidence to suggest otherwise.

Moreover, DPT improperly conceptualizes peace, excluding violations of peace present in cases like Guatemala. Following the U.S. installation of the junta, Guatemala entered a decades-long period of authoritarian rule resulting in state-sponsored violence, disappearances, torture, and genocide against Guatemala’s indigenous population. According to mainstream DPT literature, “peace” is defined as the absence of war. War is defined as any formal, organized, inter-state conflict resulting in the deaths of over 1,000 belligerent soldiers. The Guatemalan Historical Clarification Commission estimated in 1999 that over 200,000 people were killed or disappeared during the county’s civil war and as a direct result of authoritarian rule. Few, if any, troops on either the U.S. or Guatemalan side died during the 1954 coup, however. Therefore, according to DPT, Guatemala’s is a case for peace. From this intuitively false conclusion, we can derive two important implications, the first of which deals with how we conceptualize peace. If peace is restricted to DPT’s definition, then repression, civil disobedience and political cleavages, torture, ethnic cleansing, and so on, count for peace besides our natural beliefs to the contrary. Leaving these instances out of the dataset makes the theory useful only for explaining the absence of war, not peace, especially given that these concepts are not perfect opposites.

The second conclusion deals with the dangers of narrowly conceptualizing peace in this way. If we exclude one type of violence that breaches the peace in vor of including another, then we introduce structural elements to IR theory that privilege one type of violence over another. War, at least DPT’s version of it, may be on the wane for a number of factors, but that does not necessarily imply a more peaceful world. Excluding Guatemala renders DPT potentially dangerous and privileging of a narrow, antiquated view of peace and its conceptual opposite. If we privilege formal, organized, inter-state war as the only acceptable form of peace for IR theorizing, then other atrocities that violate peace between people (not to mention between states) fall off scholars’ radars. Essentially, genocide and the legacy of human rights abuses in Latin America from colonial mass killings and rapes to the state-sponsored slaughter of indigenous people as recently as the late twentieth century equally violate peace in IR.

Conclusions

The U.S. coup in Guatemala deposed of a democratically elected regime seeking to advance Liberal, capitalist reforms. DPT’s proponents rely on overly narrow and useless definitions of peace and democracy. To claim that DPT adequately explains inter-democratic relations ignores the fact that Guatemala’s open, fair elections constituted democratic governance to the extent that its limited democratic capacity allowed. To further suggest that, because fewer than 1,000 belligerent combatants died on either side of the intervention, Guatemala sufficiently constitutes peace obfuscates the U.S.’s use of proxy troops and the resulting brutality of the U.S.-backed authoritarian regime.

The 1954 U.S. intervention in Guatemala represents more than just a foreign policy blunder—it shows the vastly insufficient conceptualizations of peace and democracy that underpin one of the dominant contemporary IR theories. Of course, fully developed, accurate conceptualizations of both democracy and peace would be exceedingly useful for IR theorizing if defining these concepts were removed from countries’ and scholars’ political agendas. Such conceptualizations are, however, outside the scope of this essay and would require more in-depth research. But what is clear is that those employed by DPT are insufficient. To secure its place in IR scholarship, DPT would need to rectify its definitional shortcomings and adequately account for alternative forms of democracy and violations of international peace off the battlefield. However, to the extent that they represent subjectively understood elements of a Liberal political project, the inherently narrow representations of peace and democracy only indicate DPT scholars’ inability to objectively determine them. Democracy consists of innumerable philosophies of governance far beyond its narrow understanding in the DPT literature and peace consists of a state of human affairs, whose maintenance or violation inter-state wars’ have no theoretical or practical monopoly—neither concept can be so reductively defined as in the literature lest we ignore alternative, valid approaches to democracy and alternative, tragic violations of peace.

The Discourse Surrounding Internment of United States Citizens: Action Derived From Fear as a Departure from Liberal Democracy

As the world enters its second decade of the new century, crises across the globe are driving people to take refuge from their home countries. Old fears concerning terrorism, as well as current realities about violence and prejudice pose a significant problem for United States politicians: should refugee programs for Muslims be banned on the basis of national security, just as World War II fears produced Japanese internment camps? This paper will not explore the moral justification—or lack thereof—for the implementation of Japanese internment camps during WWII, or for the banning of Muslim refugees. Instead, it will discuss how the decisions of World War II, and the revival of new discussions of ethnically biased policies, contradict liberal democratic political theory in the United States. Liberal democratic theory is at the core of the United States’ political doctrine; it drives the Constitution, the structure, and the ideology of both the government and the people. The contradiction of these values and ideologies is not only a troubling departure from foundational liberal democratic principles, but potentially signal a decline in the political stability of the nation itself as the American people sink more deeply into polarized positions and increasingly neglect objective evaluation of political candidates from either major party.

In the U.S., there exists a divide between the intentions of politicians for the societies they wish to create and lead, and the reality of the political and social atmospheres garnered by the more diverse American peoples. These differences reflect the further, profound difference between the United States’ liberal democratic foundations, and the reality of its lack of democratic representation. Liberal democracy is defined here as a political theory founded on representative democracy, where the government is formed of elected representatives whose power is restrained by both the law and the constitution, both of which serve to protect the rights and freedoms of individuals and are supported by the majority of the state. Of course, the United States is not a perfect liberal democracy. The theoretical justifications for the values and legal attitudes of the nation that can be—and are—threatened by the proposed decisions of the few who hold power.

The Syrian refugee crisis has given way to rhetoric by some United States politicians that is both anti-refugee and, more generally, anti-Islamic. In recent years, conflict has arisen in Syria, The civil war began in spring 2011 when pro-democracy protests erupted across the nation in opposition to the authoritarian regime of President Bashar al-Assad; the President used violent, militaristic methods to suppress opposition efforts, including murder. Since then, conflict has raged between the government and opposition militias, as well as the rise of a third antagonist, ISIS, a radical non-state terrorist actor in the region. All of these threats have culminated in the displacement of Syrian civilians, who have now gained refugee status as they flee their civil war-torn country. The potential for the reinstitution of internment camps for those peacefully seeking refuge in America based on race and religion both represents the state’s increasing political polarization and its departure from the values of liberal democracy that upon which the United States was founded. The complexity of the situation is most apparent when the security argument is considered: does the nation prioritize perceptions of security, or philosophical foundations rooted in the Constitution, during times of crisis? This question might seem rhetorical and self-evident to people on either side of the argument; the ideological conflict at hand here is best exemplified by the U.S. policy decisions made during World War II concerning Japanese-American citizens.

The U.S. first interred civilians during WWII following the Japanese attach on Pearl Harbor, a measure intended to improve security, but which did little else beyond dividing otherwise equal citizens and violating the fundamental theories of liberty and freedom otherwise promoted by the concepts of democracy. In a 1942 film produced by the US Office of War Information, Japanese Relocation, Milton Eisenhower’s narration sets the tone for the official opinion on U.S. action. Eisenhower’s explanation of the motivations for the internment, could easily translate into today’s anti-Muslim immigration discourses by substituting a few key words. The original states:

When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, our West Coast became a potential combat zone. Living in that zone were more than 100,000 persons of Japanese ancestry; two thirds of them American citizens; one third aliens. We knew that some among them were potentially dangerous. But no one knew what would happen among this concentrated population if Japanese forces should try to invade our shores. Military authorities therefore determined that all of them, citizens and aliens alike, would have to move.

The legal basis for the internment of Japanese U.S. citizens and non-citizens alike derives from Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Executive Order 9066, which came two months after the attack on Pearl Harbor and the subsequent declaration of war against.  Executive Order 9066 was declared after the United States had formally declared war and was motivated by determined necessity founded on fear of future attacks and national insecurity. The trouble was, legal basis had been developed around racial motivations in order to support it; legal foundations in the Constitution did not support the xenophobic ideas on security being purported at the time, and so those in power created the necessary legal foundation through Supreme Court decisions such as Hirabayashi v. United States, executive orders, and influential media coverage of the conflict.

Ansel Adams, a photographer of the period who was critical of the executive order, noted that by June 1943, the Office of War Information reported that Nazi agents, not Japanese Americans, who aided the Japanese in carrying out their attack on Pearl Harbor—the rhetoric of security perpetuated at this time was proven wrong. In this case, fear determined the guilt of Japanese Americans before the facts had been appropriately investigated and considered; and, thus, a narrative of the danger that Japanese Americans posed took hold of public perception and ended up oppressing innocent civilians. This fear-based/security-obsessed narrative ultimately led to the forced internment of more than 120,000 Japanese Americans in the Pacific Coastal region, most of whom lost their jobs, possessions, and land, all with little guarantee of their full or partial return following the conclusion of internment.

Today, U.S. political discourse encounters the same methods of abusing the public’s insecurities in order to advance and justify extreme and xenophobic notions of how the country should be governed.  Following recent terrorist attacks in San Bernardino, California and Paris, France—both connected with the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL)—2016 Presidential candidate Donald Trump advocated a ban on allowing identified Muslims into the United States. Understanding the motivation behind the urge to stop the refugee program is vital to understanding its significance to the theoretical underpinnings of U.S. politics. David Bowers, the mayor of Roanoke Virginia, issued an early statement advocating the refusal of Syrian refugees to his region of the state:

I’m reminded that President Franklin D. Roosevelt felt compelled to sequester Japanese foreign nationals after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and it appears that the threat of harm to America from ISIS now is just as real and serious as that from our enemies then.

The real and serious threat that Bowers is referring to, however, is unfounded in the wake of the Parisian attacks considering that the perpetrators were European radicals, not moderate Syrians or Muslims. As Adams noted during his work covering the Japanese internment camps, fear of Japanese American spies would fail to become tangible. In a similar way, security concerns regarding Syrian and Muslim immigrants to the U.S. fail because of the tenuous link between extremist ideology and everyday civilians; not all Muslims or Syrian refugees are dangerous, and so to criminalize all members of one demographic is disproportionately xenophobic. Consider the writings of a theorist behind liberal democratic theory, John Locke. In Locke’s Letter Concerning Toleration, he argued that churches should have no coercive power over their members, and that there could be no true religion for a state; he wrote of the separation of legislative and executive powers, and furthermore that a government could not exist without the consent of its people to protect and govern it. Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau shared similar notions concerning the relationship between government and people, in fact.

The executive order authorizing the internment camps came at a time of inter-state war that inspired high levels of fear and national insecurity for the state of democracy; Trump’s remarks and the attempted policies of both governors and mayors represent a resurgence of fear-based political discourse based on a fear of refugees and the threats more directly faced by those abroad. There is a sense of irony in that the United States has nearly always proclaimed itself a land without religious oppression. Puritans came from England with motive to practice their religion in peace, and the first amendment of the Constitution forbids the impediment of the freedom of religion.

Although school systems teach the values of the U.S. Constitution—freedom of speech, freedom of religion, civil rights such as voting and desegregation amongst races—the impression that many may have of the active applicability of these rights may be misaligned with the desired reality of those vying for power.  The possibility arises that these protections once deemed inalienable may only be selectively extended. Of the Republican presidential candidates, Jeb Bush and Ted Cruz have recommended that the Syrian refugee program be continued, but that the program should only accept Christian refugees. While no politicians have formally recommended the internment of Muslim-American citizens or of Syrian refugees, their discrimination in terms of their immigration policies sends a concerning message to the U.S. While the United States government may not directly endanger them yet, political discourses based on fear sets a dangerous precedent for policies that may come further down the road.

Embracing a rhetoric that threatens to divide the American people from the values their country was founded on compromises the political stability of the United States as a whole, as ethnically-motivated policies may lead to political polarization, However, the danger comes from public opinion itself, which has become so divided that only 39% of Americans share a somewhat equal number of liberal and conservative positions. As it currently stands, the two-party system in the U.S. grows increasingly polarized, supported by politicians and citizens alike—the fundamental lack of civil discussion on the political spectrum itself can produce the level of instability suggested thus far. And indeed, if fears of xenophobia are once again able to fuel adaptations of the law to the demands of a few in power, democratic instability would not be a possibility, but perhaps an inevitability. The banning of refugees based on religion and ethnicity threatens the security of American citizens who practice Islam and enables U.S. citizens to incorrectly identify non-Christians as un-American. It is impossible for a nation to correctly proclaim itself a sanctuary of liberal democracy if it fails to offer equal status and liberal democratic rights to all its citizens, regardless of their identities. Banning Muslim and Syrian refugees may intend to proffer security by blocking terrorists, but its main accomplishment will be the endangerment of entire segments of the U.S. population, as radicalized fears seem legitimate in contemporary political discourse. If the United States is no longer loyal to its foundational principles as a liberal democracy, the nation may plunge itself into internal political turmoil as people clash over the future of the United States, and whom it truly serves.