Abstract

Although not normally the central focus of comparative electoral system analysis, it is the actual ballot structure that gets the most emphasis in this book, since as the authors note, Australia is the ‘home’ (p. 5) of preferential voting systems – those in which the voter can and often must rank order (all) the candidates. In Australia, preferential systems have almost always been seen politically and theoretically as the main alternative to plurality systems. Specifically, Australia has for decades used the alternative vote (AV) for its House of Representatives and the single transferable vote (STV) for its Senate. Neither of these electoral systems is common elsewhere. Consequently, this book has two aims. First, with Australians in mind, it sets out to provide details not just on the nature but also the origins and historical evolution of these systems, as well as the nature of preferential voters themselves. It also notes that little debate, let alone action, is now occurring in terms of further reforms. This may well be because Australians are comparatively quite satisfied with their political system (as is shown), but in any case the authors feel that greater use of optional preferential voting (wherein not all candidates need be ranked) is desirable, as it would lessen the effective party control over voters. The second aim of this book is to situate AV and STV within the broader global study of electoral systems. Here the key is the inclusion of all Australia's states and territories, which in particular provides many more examples of STV. The authors thus conclude that STV is as proportional as list systems, as long as the district magnitudes and overall assembly size are reasonable. Separately, under STV the various ways in which the ‘surplus’ votes of winning candidates are transferred is shown to be quite an important difference.
This informative yet succinct book is well written and highly detailed with thorough references. Perhaps its most interesting emphasis is how the 1983 change to ‘party ticket’ voting for the Australian Senate (wherein a voter just picks one party and accepts that party's full set of preferences across all parties) and its now overwhelming usage has essentially negated the preferential aspect of the STV system. The book's greatest utility is most probably its historical and comparative detail, especially on the differing electoral systems of the Australian states and territories – something not likely fully understood by (international) scholars.
Alan Siaroff
(University of Lethbridge)
Being Arab is a surprisingly frank assessment of the modern malaise of self-perpetuated ‘victimhood’ facing the Arab world today (p. 15). The book opens with a very succinct portrayal of what it means to be an educated, Western-oriented and liberal Arab in today's Arab as well as Euro-American worlds. The author, the assassinated Lebanese journalist Samir Kassir, epitomises the fate of the most educated and radically aware of Arab intelligentsia, often forced to leave their own countries and base themselves (at least on a parttime basis) abroad (in Kassir's case in France), if they value their own lives and that of their families.
The author, being part Palestinian and Christian, as well as having been brought up in cosmopolitan Beirut with its underpinnings of French haute culture, is uniquely qualified to elucidate on the fate of the Arab people, caught between a clash of religiously inspired revivalist ‘Islamist’ traditionalism and modernity. Kassir takes us on a journey through the Arab world, dealing with country after country from the Levant and the Gulf to North Africa and identifies the main stumbling blocks that each country faces in its quest to achieve modernity or parity with the West. He also goes back in history, tracing the evolution of the Arab people and their settled culture and civilisation since the emergence of Islam in the sixth century AD.
As a littérateur, Kassir lays more emphasis on the so-called Nahda or golden age of modern Arabic literature and culture in the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, as the Ottoman Empire deteriorated. He questions why this revival did not result in the ‘modern’ or ‘liberal’ Western-oriented Arab world that many of the cultural entrepreneurs of that period had designed it to be. Kassir opines that the Arab people's failure to embrace modernity lies in their unfortunate mass diversion to other pseudo-ideologies such as Arabism as well as religious fundamentalism. This has resulted in the Arab world being at the mercy of superior Western powers and even lagging behind most other developing societies in the world today. In the end, Kassir seeks to find solace in the revival of cultural creativity in the Arab world today. He does not feel that there is as yet any call for optimism in the Arab world. To quote him, ‘the Arab world, the Levant in particular, remains the prisoner of an apolitical and social system that may allow diversity to express itself, but never allows it to translate into any change in the decision-making processes’ (p. 91). And he ends the book with what he feels should be a wake-up call to all the Arab people, namely, ‘that we Arabs abandon our fantasy of a matchless past and finally see our real history, so that we can then be true to it’ (p. 92).
It is unfortunate that we have lost such a brilliant analyst of ‘the Arab malaise’, as Kassir so cogently summarises the problems of his particular world region. The book under review would benefit very much from being elaborated into a much larger and deeper tome, as no doubt the author would have done had he been alive today. It would be a fitting tribute to Samir Kassir should some other writer carry on his particular crusade of speaking about and analysing truthfully the ‘Arab malaise’ in today's world.
Samuel J. Kuruvilla
(University of Exeter)
This book deals with the so-called ‘internal refugees’, those who did not flee the 1947–8 war in mandatory Palestine but sought refuge in another part of the country (without crossing the international borders) when the state of Israel was formed. The book consists of a compilation of essays and ‘interviewer and interviewee narratives’ with former refugees who were settled in a part of Israel that was different but often close to their former (and rightful) places of abode. Contributors include several distinguished authors and scholars such as William Dalrymple, Naseer Aruri, Ilan Pappe, Isma'il Abu Sa'ad and Nur Masalha himself. The editor is a native Palestinian Galilean, born in the state of Israel in 1957 and he expresses his admiration for the late Edward Said by dedicating the volume to him.
Just 160,000 out of almost a million Palestinians remained as a result of the 1948 ‘War of Independence’ (as it is known among Jewish Israelis) or the Palestinian Naqba (‘catastrophe’) as it is known to Arabs. The troops of the Yishuv (the pre-state of Israel Jewish fighting forces known as the Palmach and the Hagannah) often discriminated based on the religion of the people they were trying to force from the land. For example, in Galilee, which had a high-density Arab population, many Christians and Druze were allowed to remain, while a large proportion of Muslims were expelled. Historic towns with emotional links to worldwide Christianity such as Nazareth were spared an evacuation, while historically Arab-majority towns like Haifa, Safad and Tiberias were almost totally ‘cleansed’ of non-Jews. Most Palestinian Arabs were expelled across the borders of the then ‘provisional’ state of Israel to neighbouring Arab countries. Those that remained became second-class citizens in Israel, subject to discrimination in all aspects of daily life as well as a crippling military administration that restricted individual and personal movement. In addition, the Arabs of Israel lost the bulk of their lands to the state authorities.
Arab Palestinians, within and without Israel, have been active in campaigning for restitution rights as well as petitioning the Israeli judicial system to be allowed to return to their former villages and lands. An important aspect of this endeavour has been the compiling of oral and narrative history by intrepid Palestinian historians (and interested foreigners) as well as film-makers and the holding of annual remembrance services to uphold the memory of the Naqba. Much of the Palestinian documentary evidence to support their claims to the land has been confiscated and destroyed or is in the form of Ottoman-era deeds that the state of Israel refuses to recognise (though they recognise British Mandate as well as ‘trans-Jordanian’ land records). In such a situation, oral history as well as interviews with internally displaced people (IDPs) form a valuable source to construct a clearer picture of what actually happened to the Palestinian people in the chaotic years of 1947–9. The book under review examines this issue from different angles such as Palestinian identity, memories of the Naqba and the immediate period of military rule, continued cross-border expulsions of people, native Palestinian rights, international ‘human rights laws’ as well as UN-mandated protection, the ‘right of return, not only for the Jews, but also for the native Palestinians’ and a just solution (like the establishment of a secular bi-national state) in Palestine/ Israel. Refugee restitution rights are also discussed in some detail in the light of international conventions that seek to address the worldwide issue of displaced people. The editor has managed to get a large and diverse group of contributors for his book which is one in a series that has been focusing on Palestinian-related topics over the last ten to fifteen years.
Samuel J. Kuruvilla
(University of Exeter)
Africa is generally seen as the continent with persistent violence and unsolvable conflicts. Between 1990 and 2000 there were 61 ruler successions. Twenty-five were violent coups. And since the end of the Cold War we have seen civil wars in Algeria, Angola, Burundi, the Republic of Congo, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Guinea-Bissau, Sierra Leone, Somalia and Sudan. Very often in the popular media these have been characterised as ‘tribal warfare’. Obviously, academics and researchers have moved away from such pronouncements and a growing and healthy literature on conflicts in Africa has developed which grants us great insight into the causes and consequences of wars on the continent. But methodological issues have been generally neglected. This is why this volume is very important, as it is reflexive in its approach and seeks to step back and examine epistemological questions regarding conducting research in Africa on conflicts, as well as ethical and other dimensions.
The book is important, as much of the literature on research methodology does not speak to the complications of embarking on research in the middle of violence. The book considers the ethical and practical issues of researching within violent and alienated societies and utilises case studies from Angola, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Ghana, Nigeria, Rwanda and South Africa. Within many of these conflicts rulers have encouraged corruption and intentionally undermined state institutions, often using violence in order to stay in power and profit. Obviously, looting and personal profit in warfare is neither new nor specifically ‘African’. But what is new is the extent to which economic rather than political interests predominate. This raises very interesting methodological questions which face all researchers looking into such conflicts. How do you examine warlords’ motives?
This is important because many of the wars that stake out Africa have and still do occupy a special category of conflict, one where the consequence of collapse of state institutions and the failure of opposition groups to build alternative ones has bred particular types of conflicts. These have occurred where public bureaucracies have been riddled with corruption and a form of rule exists that is hostile to well-functioning state institutions. How a researcher can dig through such layers and expose these milieus is inherently problematic – if not dangerous. After all, the buying of loyalty, or at least compliance, of key groups in society is central to much warlord activity. And the most efficient way is to use state resources as patronage to be distributed via corrupt networks. This of course builds power bases but equally undermines state capacities to provide services to the wider population. In fact, effective bureaucrats actually pose a potential political threat to such self-styled leaders. Bureaucratic efficacy indeed might contrast glaringly with that of ruling elites.
Researching such situations where everyone is a ‘partner in crime’ is obviously problematic. For instance, in Nigeria applicants for police and customs posts commonly pay several times the official annual salary as a bribe to secure appointments, on the basis that this gives them a licence to exploit the people they are supposed to serve. The result is that new and old actors cooperate to accumulate wealth, control diverse avenues of legitimate and illicit exchange and exercise considerable political authority due to the collapse of the formal state's capacities. Engaging in research to uncover such complex areas has obvious methodological concerns. Fundamentally, how do you end civil wars when it is not about politics but about resources and opportunities to enrich? This research question has never really been satisfactorily answered.
This then raises ethical questions. Superior weaponry and the capacity to cause disorder very often make insurgents the focus of international attempts at mediation. But this grants recognition to the thugs. In particular, insurgents have often sought to convince outsiders of their claim to power by capturing the country's capital and/or to convince outsiders that they should be included in power sharing. External forces often conclude that they do not have the capacity to disarm insurgents. Researching this is highly valuable, but fraught with issues.
The book's value is that it seeks to answer some of these dilemmas. Utilising the experience of some seasoned researchers who have done fieldwork in some very tricky situations, the book provides students and academics with some good insights into conducting work in conflict zones in Africa. I would say it does not provide all the answers (but I do not believe such a book could exist), but it is thought provoking and very useful. It would certainly be read with profit by anyone embarking on fieldwork in Africa and should be on the bookshelves of all students looking into the continent's seemingly intractable conflicts.
Ian Taylor
Politics After Neoliberalism sets out a new agenda for the study of political economy by explaining patterns of re-regulation, in which politicians establish new institutions to replace those removed by neoliberal reforms. Exploring this phenomenon in its varied forms in the coffee sectors of four states in Mexico (Oaxaca, Chiapas, Puebla and Guerrero), Snyder shows that re-regulation outcomes are fundamentally shaped by politics rather than technocratic factors. The variation in modes of re-regulation is determined by the strategies of state governors and the strength of the social groups they encounter in the coffee sector. The strategies of state governors (classed as either neo-corporatist – mass based – or crony capitalist – elite based) are determined by the ideologies and political strategies of state governors. But while the politicians’ choice of re-regulation strategy shapes the institutional outcome, it does not determine it. The strength of small-producer organizations and their strategic response to the re-regulation project shape the final re-regulation outcome, which often results in unintended consequences for all involved.
The strengths of this book are manifold. First, its sub-national research design highlights the ‘potentially autonomous’ (p. 25) nature of sub-national authorities in a federal system and provides a telling critique of the national-level focus of the political economy literature. Second, Snyder carefully delineates the distinct effects of state and societal forces on the policies chosen, providing a welcome corrective to accounts which treat these two actors as simply ‘interactive’ or competitive. Third, the book is a marvel of exposition. The theoretical chapters develop a closely argued and precise argument, and the case chapters ably walk a fine line between abstraction from the detailed historical narrative and recognition of the complicated nature of each particular state context. The twin strengths of comparative historical research – nuanced theory development and deep knowledge of cases (based on extensive fieldwork and interviews in all four states) are on display in this book. These make the book relevant both to the scholar of Mexican politics and to a much broader audience of researchers interested in the politics of regulation and re-regulation. Studies of neoliberal reforms have begun a long overdue move from a focus on causes to an investigation of consequences, and this book lays out a broad and incisive agenda for the study of the political economy of the post-neoliberal era. It will deservedly be read and cited by scholars for years to come.
Hillel D. Soifer
(Bates College, Maine)
With the humanitarian crisis in Sudan and Ethiopia's recent military involvement in the Somalia conflict in the forefront of international news, Peter Woodward's book is a timely examination of the origins of these dilemmas in this troubled region. In this comprehensive descriptive analysis of Sudan, Ethiopia, Somalia, Eritrea and Djibouti's relationship with each other and the United States, Woodward sifts through the inconsistent and often insufficient efforts of post Second World War American foreign policy activities in this region. During the Cold War the Soviets and Americans ‘effectively played a game of checkers’ with the strategic alliances of Sudan, Ethiopia and Somalia, creating inter-regional enmity between the despotic regimes (p. 34). The end of the Cold War coincided with the deterioration of these governments, but ‘tension and rivalry’ between the states continued (p. 153). Not unrelated, American interests in the region waned after its intervention debacle in Somalia in 1994. Woodward points to Sudan's conflict, the region's new-found oil wealth and the emergence of Muslim insurgent groups in the post-9/11 era as the catalyst that has refocused American attention on the region.
Woodward delivers an intelligibly comprehensive resource for students of international relations interested in this region or the effects of the Cold War on developing countries. The strength of his argument rests in his analysis that the region's importance in US foreign policy shifted from geographic importance (i.e. proximity to the Middle East) to one that is issue-based (terrorism, oil, humanitarian crises, etc.). However, Woodward is misguided in assuming that these issues have given the region more relative importance in the eyes of American policy-makers. Since 9/11, foreign policy has grown in political importance as a whole in Washington, therefore increasing the absolute effort in the Horn. Nonetheless, American regional policy is still as incoherent and deficient as ever. This can be attributed to the brunt of the American foreign policy resources being directed towards its involvements in Iraq and Afghanistan. Where Woodward cannot be disputed is in his assertion that if economic development and conflict resolution in the Horn are to be taken seriously, the US needs to develop an unwavering, long-term objective to assist the region through its present struggles. As his analysis accurately points out, it was the short-sightedness of the Cold War that can be faulted as the root of the conflicts today.
Patrick Shea
(Fordham University, New York)
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