Académique Documents
Professionnel Documents
Culture Documents
Global/Multiregional
1. Scott W. Desposato, “How Does Vote Buying Shape the Legislative Arena?,” in
Elections for Sale: The Causes and Consequences of Vote Buying, ed. Frederic
Charles Schaffer (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 2007), pp. 101–122.
2. Anna Grzymala-Busse, “Beyond Clientelism: Incumbent State Capture and State
Formation,” Comparative Political Studies 41, no. 4–5 (April 2008), pp. 638–673.
3. Paul D. Hutchcroft, “The Politics of Privilege: Assessing the Impact of Rents,
Corruption, and Clientelism on Third World Development,” Political Studies 45,
no. 3 (1997), pp. 649–658.
4. Phillip Keefer and Razvan Vlaicu, “Democracy, Credibility, and Clientelism,”
Journal of Law, Economics, & Organization 24, no. 2 (April 2008), pp. 371–406.
5. Philip Keefer, “Clientelism, Credibility, and the Policy Choices of Young
Democracies,” American Journal of Political Science 51, no. 4 (October 2007),
pp. 804–821.
6. Mushtaq H. Khan, “Markets, States, and Democracy: Patron-Client Networks and
the Case for Democracy in Developing Countries,” Democratization 12, no. 5
(December 2005), pp. 704–724.
7. Herbert Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson, “Citizen-Politician Linkages: An
Introduction,” in Patrons, Clients, and Policies: Patterns of Democratic
Accountability and Political Competition, ed. Herbert Kitschelt and Steven I.
Wilkinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), pp. 1–49.
8. Herbert Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson, “A Research Agenda for the Study of
Citizen-Politician Linkages and Democratic Accountability” in Patrons, Clients,
and Policies: Patterns of Democratic Accountability and Political Competition,
ed. Herbert Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2007), pp. 322–343.
9. Luigi Manzetti and Carole J. Wilson, “Why Do Corrupt Governments Maintain
Public Support?” Comparative Political Studies 40, no. 8 (August 2007), pp. 949–
970.
10. Simeon Nichter, “Vote Buying or Turnout Buying? Machine Politics and the
Secret Ballot,” American Political Science Review 102, no. 1 (February 2008), pp.
19–31.
11. Frederic Charles Schaffer, “Lessons Learned,” in Elections for Sale: The Causes
and Consequences of Vote Buying, ed. Frederic Charles Schaffer (Boulder: Lynne
Rienner, 2007), pp. 183–200.
Africa
12. Michael Bratton, “Formal versus Informal Institutions in Africa,” Journal of
Democracy 18, no. 3 (July 2007), pp. 96–110.
13. Staffan I. Lindberg and Minion K.C. Morrison, “Are African Voters Really
Ethnic or Clientelistic? Survey Evidence From Ghana,” Political Science
Quarterly 123, no. 1 (Spring 2008), pp. 95–122.
14. Pedro C. Vicente and Leonard Wantchekon, “Clientelism and Vote Buying:
Lessons From Field Experiments in African Elections,” Oxford Review of
Economic Policy 25, no. 2 (Summer 2009), pp. 292–305.
15. Nicolas van de Walle, “Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss? The
Evolution of Political Clientelism in Africa,” in Patrons, Clients, and Policies:
Patterns of Democratic Accountability and Political Competition, ed. Herbert
Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2007), pp. 50–67.
16. Nicolas van de Walle, “Presidentialism and Clientelism in Africa’s Emerging
Party Systems,” Journal of Modern African Studies 41, no. 2 (June 2003), pp.
297–321.
Asia
17. Anirudh Krishna, “Politics in the Middle: Mediating Relationships between the
Citizens and the State in Rural North India,” in Patrons, Clients, and Policies:
Patterns of Democratic Accountability and Political Competition, ed. Herbert
Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2007), pp. 141–158.
18. Bruce Kam-Kwan Kwong, “Patron-Client Politics in Hong Kong: A Case Study
of the 2002 and 2005 Chief Executive Elections,” Journal of Contemporary
China 16, no. 52 (August 2007), pp. 389–415.
19. Emmanuel Teitelbaum and Tariqu Thachil, “Party Fragmentation and the
Emergence of Programmatic Spending in the Indian States,” paper presented at
conference on “Redistribution, Public Goods & Political Market Failures,” April
9–10, 2010, Yale University.
20. Steven I. Wilkinson, “Explaining Changing Patterns of Party-Voter Linkages in
India,” in Patrons, Clients, and Policies: Patterns of Democratic Accountability
and Political Competition, ed. Herbert Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), pp. 110–140.
Latin America
21. Javier Auyero, “The Logic of Clientelism in Argentina: An Ethnographic
Account,” Latin American Research Review 35, no. 3 (2000), pp. 55–81.
22. Valeria Brusco, Marcelo Nazareno, and Susan C. Stokes, “Vote Buying In
Argentina,” Latin American Research Review 39, no. 2 (2004), pp. 66–88.
23. Ernesto Calvo and Maria Victoria Murillo, “Who Delivers? Partisan Clients in the
Argentine Electoral Market,” American Journal of Political Science 48, no. 4
(October 2004), pp. 742–757.
24. Daniel J. Epstein, “Clientelism versus Ideology: Problems of Party Development
in Brazil,” Party Politics 15, no. 3 (May 2009), pp. 335–355.
25. Jonathan Fox, “The Difficult Transition from Clientelism to Citizenship: Lessons
from Mexico,” World Politics 46, no. 2 (January 1994), pp. 151–84.
26. Ezequiel Gonzalez-Ocantos, Chad Kiewiet de Jone, Carlos Melendez, Javier
Osorio, and David W. Nickerson, “Vote Buying and Social Desirability Bias:
Experimental Evidence from Nicaragua,” paper presented at conference on
“Redistribution, Public Goods, & Political Market Failure,” April 9–10, 2010,
Yale University.
27. Susan C. Stokes, “Perverse Accountability: A Formal Model of Machine Politics
with Evidence from Argentina,” American Political Science Review 99, no. 3
(August 2005), pp. 315–325.
28. Mariela Szwarcberg, “Who Monitors? Clientelism and Democratic
Representation in Argentine Municipalities,” paper presented at conference on
“Redistribution, Public Goods & Political Market Failures,” April 9–10, 2010,
Yale University.
29. Rebecca Weitz-Shapiro, “Choosing Clientelism: Political Competition, Poverty,
and Social Welfare Policy in Argentina,” paper presented at conference on
“Redistribution, Public Goods & Political Market Failure,” April 9–10, 2010,
Yale University.
Middle East
30. Ellen Lust, “Competitive Clientelism in the Middle East,” Journal of Democracy
20, no. 3 (July 2009), pp. 122–135.
1. Scott W. Desposato, “How Does Vote Buying Shape the Legislative Arena?,” in
Elections for Sale: The Causes and Consequences of Vote Buying, ed. Frederic
Charles Schaffer (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 2007), pp. 101–122.
Legislators’ use of private or public goods to win elections impacts their behavior
once in office. Although all legislators face the dual challenges of providing goods and
claiming credit, the difficulty of each challenge varies with the nature of the goods.
Private goods, such as cash and food, are concrete and immediate. Politicians can easily
demonstrate that they have provided these goods, but they must exert effort to quickly
obtain and deliver them by allying with the forces that control patronage. By contrast,
public goods like environmental protection and reduced corruption are more valuable but
less immediate. Politicians can easily deliver these goods, but they can only claim credit
for their individual role in the policymaking process by forming disciplined parties and
developing voting records. Legislators’ behavior reflects the challenges they face: in the
heavily clientelistic Brazilian state of Piauí, legislators cross party lines to build alliances
with the governor and acquiesce to his agenda in exchange for patronage. In the more
programmatic state of Brasilia, legislators develop voting records and use party
allegiance to signal their legislative accomplishments and ambitions. Although legislators
may pursue varying tactics in other institutional settings, programmatic and clientelistic
electoral markets are likely to cause different kinds of legislative behavior across
institutional contexts.
Clientelistic and programmatic goods appeal differently to voters and require
different behavior from legislators. Clientelistic private goods tend to be lower in value,
but they are appealing because they are immediate and certain: for voters averse to risk
and delay, a guaranteed small cash payment now may be preferable to a possible large
income subsidy in the future. Legislators in electoral markets that value private goods
face an urgent pressure to obtain and distribute goods immediately. By contrast,
legislators in electoral markets that value public goods face less urgent pressure to deliver
because “delayed delivery is offset” (pg. 106) by the greater value of the goods.
However, legislators can easily claim credit for providing small, immediate goods: if a
voter receives food, cash, or medicine, the legislator has fulfilled his promise. Claiming
credit for public goods produced through a complex legislative process is far more
difficult. Because “a single legislator usually won’t be able to balance the budget,
increase educational spending, or lower taxes in a single term” (pg. 107), voters cannot
easily assess whether any progress is being made in important policy areas and whether
their local legislators are responsible. Legislators in public goods markets must spend the
preponderance of their effort claiming credit, while legislators in private goods markets
must spend the preponderance of theirs delivering goods.
The ways in which legislators claim credit and deliver goods depends on the political
context. In Brazilian state legislatures, two characteristics are particularly salient in
shaping legislative behavior: Brazilian states have independently elected governors who
control state finances, and Brazilian parties have few financial resources and little
disciplinary control over their members. Legislators in private goods electoral markets
have few incentives to develop their voting records or maintain disciplined parties.
Instead, they will attempt to obtain state resources by allying themselves with the
governor and acquiescing to his policy agenda. The governor will attract cohesive
support from his party, but he will also attract defectors or force opposition parties to
support his initiatives. By contrast, legislators in public goods electoral markets can claim
credit for policies by developing established voting records and forming cohesive parties.
Membership in an ideologically coherent party “provides a brand name” (pg. 108) that
succinctly and credibly communicates members’ policy goals and accomplishments and
helps like-minded legislators coordinate policy initiatives. Opposition and government
parties both have incentives for cohesion. In Brazil, public goods electoral markets will
lead to more cohesive opposition parties and more developed voting records.
One of the sharpest political contrasts in Brazil is between the states of Piauí and
Brasilia. Although the two states have virtually identical formal institutions, they have
very different electoral markets. Piauí is Brazil’s least developed state, and political
competition is almost exclusively centered on private goods: deputies win votes by
providing goods like medical care, transportation, and sometimes cash. In Brasilia, the
most developed state in the country, constituents are interested in candidates’ policy
platforms and are less influenced by personalistic benefits. Legislators in Brasilia do
more to claim credit and less to obtain patronage resources than their peers in Piauí. First,
they use recorded “roll call” votes to demonstrate their policy positions and legislative
behavior to voters: between 1991 and 1998, there were 7,971 roll call votes in Brasilia
and only 20 in Piauí. In Piauí, most opposition lawmakers indicated a preference for
private “negotiation” over public votes, and some were unaware that they could demand a
roll call vote. Second, legislators in Brasilia rely on parties and less on the governor to
win elections. The recorded voting records from the two provinces reveal very different
patterns of party cohesion. In Brasilia, the opposition and governing parties had
moderately high, statistically indistinguishable levels of cohesion, while in Piauí, the
governing party had a level of cohesion that was nearly twice as high as the opposition’s.
Even when the opposition in Piauí had a majority of legislative seats, party leaders
needed to negotiate with the governor over access to state resources or face defections
within their ranks. Because distribution was more important than credit claiming, the
governor—with his control of patronage resources—replaced parties as the nexus of
political organization.
In other political settings, the pressures of clientelistic and programmatic vote
markets may translate into different legislative outcomes. In Brazil, an electoral market
that favors private goods leads to weak parties, because legislators abandon their party
leadership to win patronage from the governor. In Argentina and Mexico, an electoral
market that favors private goods has strengthened parties. Because the Peronists in
Argentina and the PRI in the Mexico have extensive financial resources, clientelistic
politicians need to ally with party leaders to provide private goods. Formal institutions
are not irrelevant—they just depend on underlying assumptions about voters. Voters who
are exclusively ideological make different demands on legislators than voters who are
only concerned with private goods. Even an assumption that voters don’t matter
influences the impact of formal rules on legislative behavior. But just as formal rules
cannot be viewed in isolation, neither can the contours of the electoral marketplace be
viewed as an isolated phenomenon. Electoral markets have “ripple effects” (pg. 120) that
reach far beyond election day and into the processes and outcomes of legislatures
throughout the world.
2. Anna Grzymala-Busse, “Beyond Clientelism: Incumbent State Capture and State
Formation,” Comparative Political Studies 41, no. 4–5 (April 2008), pp. 638–
673.
Political elites often attempt to capture the state for their own benefit—they extract
resources from the government for their own personal or political gain. According to
Anna Grzymala-Busse, elites must make two key decisions when pursuing state capture:
whether to share these resources with supporters and whether to permit competition
between elites for resources. These two decisions yield four distinctive classes of
extractive regimes that powerfully influence state institutions and policies. Elites decide
whether to pursue clientelism, predation, party-state fusion, or competitive exploitation
based on preexisting political and socioeconomic conditions, including wealth, stability,
and institutional legacy. In turn, the mechanism of state capture exerts a powerful
influence on the shape of the state and affects property rights, accountability, state
employment, development programs, and electoral rules.
Assuming that rulers seek to maximize their own benefits, they face tactical choices
about their relationships with other elites and with the masses. They may develop a
relationship with followers by sharing captured state resources, which diminishes rulers’
own personal gains but decreases threats to their rule. They may also develop a
relationship with other elites by permitting competition for leadership, which increases
the probability that rulers will lose power but decreases the penalties they face following
removal. Democrats voted out of office have a secure and lucrative future and the
prospect of reelection, while dictators overthrown by rivals are often arrested, exiled, or
killed. The combination of decisions that rulers make determines the state capture regime
they pursue: clientelism, exploitation, fusion, or predation. Clientelism is seen in Latin
America, Japan, and Italy, where politicians both permit competition and distribute to
followers, trading targetable goods for electoral support. Predation, by contrast, was seen
in the Phillipines under Ferdinand Marcos, Nigeria under General Sani Abacha, and
Indonesia under Mohamed Suharto and involves neither competition nor distribution.
Instead it allows authoritarian elites to steal state resources for themselves. Party-state
fusion, such as in Singapore and Eastern Europe under communist rule, involves the use
of monopolistic political parties that distribute goods to supporters while suppressing
potential competitors. Finally, institutional exploitation, frequently seen in post-
communist Europe, involves competition without distribution. The classes of state
capture are ideal types, and in reality they often overlap. For example, an exploitative
regime might use clientelism to buy off key constituencies, or a party-state might allow
clientelistic elections at a local level.
Rulers choosing between tactics for state capture are guided by a complex set of
structural constraints including “existing organizational endowments, the costs of buying
support, and the trade-off between costs and probability of exit from office” (pg. 645). As
such, rulers’ choices on rent-sharing are influenced by two factors. First, poverty and
inequality make rent-sharing appealing because poor voters will trade their support for
smaller material benefits and are less mobile and therefore easier to monitor, and because
the demand for public goods and property rights is weaker without a strong capitalist
class. Second, when politics are highly unstable and parties lack strong ties to
constituents, the costs of developing political institutions to distribute rents and monitor
loyalty are prohibitive. Similar factors affect rulers’ choice to allow competition, as the
organization of society, the viability of repression, and the international community
influence whether the cost and probability of losing power are high enough to rationalize
institutionalized competition and protection for losers. Competition and clientelism also
interact: rent-sharing can serve as a buffer against negative public sentiment and inhibit
competition, because it raises the costs of opposition and facilitates the mobilization of
supporters, while competition can inhibit rent-seeking since some voters are likely to
oppose the practice. Neither wealth nor political history can explain regime type in a
simplistic manner: clientelism is found in both low income and high income countries
across colonial, democratic, and authoritarian backgrounds. The constraints that shape
state capture are subtle and multifaceted.
Contrary to some scholars, Grzymala-Busse does not believe that rent-seeking leads
to universally weaker institutions. Although it may weaken some institutions, it can also
strengthen others. The strategic decisions elites make, based on their political and
socioeconomic environments, bear directly on the state institutions they build: specific
needs, such as distribution and contestation, require specific structures. The variation in
structures is particularly evident in four areas of the state: oversight and regulatory
institutions, state employment, development programs, and electoral rules. By protecting
property, enforcing contracts, and ensuring transparency, state institutions of law and
oversight make it more difficult for rulers to extract rents. However, these institutions are
also necessary to help rulers solidify popular support (by distributing rents) and to
compete with rival elites. Exploitative regimes have the most universal and well-
developed institutions of law and oversight. When politicians compete on policy
programs rather than patronage, strong formal institutions are necessary to ensure
economic growth, appeal to voters’ senses of fairness, and constrain successors’ abilities
to undermine or punish previous leaders. Exploitative elites are unlikely to capture the
state through disruptive tactics like the seizure of property and are constrained by
competition in the amount they can extract from the state. Fusion and clientelist regimes,
however, also face incentives to build monitoring, tax collection, and oversight
capabilities in order to effectively distribute patronage and monitor loyalty. Unlike
exploitative regimes, however, these formal institutions are placed under partisan control
and only employed when they benefit the ruling regime. Elites in these distributive
regimes are eager to take personal credit for rent distribution and therefore eschew
“quasistate” arrangements, such as independent authorities and contractors, that are
popular in exploitative regimes. Finally, without either competitive or distributive
pressure, the rulers of predatory regimes have no incentive to check their rent-seeking
with any formal institutions and simply let state capacity wither away.
Elites can also extract rents and maintain support through public hiring and
development programs. Both allow rulers to target key constituencies or to enrich
themselves. Distributive regimes—fusion and clientelism—reward supporters with jobs
and targeted development programs such as loans and infrastructure. They have a large
number of state employees, particularly concentrated in sectors like healthcare and
education that provide benefits to supporters, and a large number of contingent and
targeted development goods. Although programs are conditioned on political support and
create dependence on the ruling elites, they nonetheless have some benevolent function,
as they provide benefits to constituents and expand state capacity (partially in order to
monitor the loyalty and subservience of beneficiaries). In contrast, predatory regimes
siphon off public payrolls and programs to enrich the rulers using outright fraud and
expropriation without regard for citizens. These regimes have the highest wage bills but
the lowest levels of actual public employment, as salaries go to a small number of
powerful officials and are siphoned off by corruption. Self-interested exploitative rulers
use public employment, not to enrich themselves materially, but to enrich the resources
under their political control. Instead of expanding patronage jobs, they increase their
political power by expanding central state agencies and hiring from their elite supporters.
Electoral rules are only a relevant consideration in competitive regimes, but
differences emerge between the voting methods used in clientelistic and exploitative
systems. Clientelism requires that individual candidates be able to take credit for their
accomplishments. States with a long tradition of distributive politics have therefore
frequently adopted personalized voting methods such as the single nontransferable vote
and open-list proportional representation. However, states without a clientelistic tradition
also use these methods, so it is more likely that clientelism influences the choice of
voting system than vice versa. Exploitative regimes eschew individual credit and blame
in favor of strong parties by using systems such as closed-list or semi-open proportional
representation. In the Central and Eastern European countries that typify exploitation—
unlike in countries that typify clientelism—electoral rules preceded the creation of an
extractive regime type. The state crisis engendered by the fall of the Soviet Union
enabled unusually rapid oscillation between state capture strategies, in part via rapid
changes in institutions. Political systems rarely offer the opportunity for such rapid
change in regime type: expectations and institutions typically alter slowly through
gradually increasing competition, demographic changes, and economic development. The
choices elites make about distribution and competition, and therefore the choices they
make about state capture and state building, are conditioned on deeply-rooted historical
events and institutions.
3. Paul D. Hutchcroft, “The Politics of Privilege: Assessing the Impact of Rents,
Corruption, and Clientelism on Third World Development,” Political Studies
45, no. 3 (1997), pp. 649–658.
All political systems have some degree of particularistic privilege that benefits a
small segment of the population. Privilege is particularly widespread in the developing
world, where elites frequently obtain state resources for personal or political benefit.
Scholars have variously described these “politics of privilege” using three different
approaches: rent-seeking, corruption, and clientelism. While each framework has
contributed a unique perspective on politics, none has comprehensively assessed how
particularistic privilege impacts development in the societies where it is most widespread.
Drawing on all three strands of literature, Paul D. Hutchcroft argues that an “eclectic
approach” (pg. 639) is necessary to develop a comprehensive understanding of the
relationship between particularistic politics and development. He reviews the strengths
and weaknesses of each strand and poses seven questions that scholars interested in the
interrelated phenomena must answer to analyze when privilege is harmful and when it is
harmless.
Hutchcroft’s eclectic approach draws useful insight from both rent theory and
clientelism but seems most attached to the framework of corruption. This perspective
avoids the ideological bias of rent theory, which holds that governments distort markets
and are inherently bad, and can “move into other terrain” (pg. 643) to examine the
distinction between public and private spheres. It therefore plays closer attention to
institutional design (whether a political system distinguishes between public and private
spheres), to nonmarket forms of privilege based on personal ties, and to the broader
political context (whether corruption promotes or inhibits political change). In public
discourse, corruption is a far more meaningful concept than rent-seeking and can connect
with practical political movements against corruption. Rent theory is useful because it
offers insights into the market processes that often drive privilege, but it fails to
distinguish between who captures rents, how rents are distributed, and privileges that
create generalizable policy benefits (lobbying) or excludable benefits (bribes). Although
purely market-driven privilege is distinct from clientelism, Hutchcroft argues that most
privilege is based at least in part on personal connection and that the paradigm of
clientelism can help explain the nonmarket aspects of corruption and rents. Its major
limitation in describing nonmarket forces is that it considers affective ties but not
coercive ones.
Unifying these three approaches can help clarify the effects of privilege on economic
development. To this extent, Hutchcroft proposes seven area of inquiry “that are useful in
beginning to assess the differential impact of rents, corruption, and clientelism” (pg. 646)
and understanding when privilege is pernicious and when it is benign or even beneficial.
He first asks under what circumstances is corruption “relatively more variable or
calculable” (pg. 646). In other words: when do bribes function as unofficial taxes that can
be easily figured into routine business and when do they introduce a high degree of risk
and require large amounts of time to negotiate. Hutchcroft suggests that they are likely to
be more calculable when the formal power of institutions is relatively strong and when
informal, clientelistic lines of authority closely follow formal lines of authority. Under
these circumstances, corruption’s barriers to development are relatively minimal.
Next, Hutchcroft argues that scholars must understand where rents go: how they are
allocated and spent. The distribution of rents can occur via “rent-seeking” in which
groups expend resources to compete for rents, and “rent deployment” in which rents are
allocated by authorities with little competition from below. This distinction determines
how many resources are consumed unproductively fighting for control of rents. Rent
deployment, which is more likely to occur in a centralized economy, can be more
efficient then rent-seeking, because it avoids wasting resources in directly unproductive
activities like lobbying and bribes. Regardless of whom rents are allocated to, scholars
must also ask how they are subsequently invested. States that deploy rents must ensure
that their allocations are invested productively to serve development goals, rather than for
unproductive personal or political activities. If rents are sought after rather than deployed,
determining their utility for promoting growth and capital accumulation is even more
difficult: scholars cannot judge distribution against a clear, systematic goal and instead
must speculate about individual motivations. If rents are effectively deployed towards
promoting economic growth, as in South Korea, privilege may be beneficial. However, if
rents are captured for other goals, they may impede good governance.
Rents are particularly pernicious if they impede the development of other effective
institutions required for development. Hutchcroft’s next three questions probe the
relationship between rents and markets, parties, and state bureaucracies. He first evokes
Doner and Ramsay’s distinction between “competitive clientelism,” which fosters
markets and competition, and “monopoly clientelism,” which erects barriers to
competition and inhibits markets, to address whether corruption impedes markets and
competition. In some cases, privilege may allow businesses to circumvent poorly
developed state policies, avoiding price ceilings and excessive regulations. However,
Hutchcroft is skeptical of claims that corruption can increase state capacity to pursue
development goals. Even “speed payments,” which expedite but do not distort
government decisions, create a structural incentive for bureaucratic sluggishness so that
bureaucrats receive bribes for fast work. If agencies and parties—formal lines of
authority—closely coincide with informal lines of authority, then the rents collected by
leaders might strengthen overall formal institutions. Political parties in the developed
world began as means for extracting particularistic benefits, and, under certain
circumstances, parties that receive rents can develop into robust institutions. Further
research is needed to understand how many resources corruption diverts away from state
spending on development projects such as policing and infrastructure and how this
diversion varies between the upper and lower levels of government, between different
agencies, and between democratic and authoritarian political systems.
Finally, Hutchcroft asks what other factors might mitigate the impact of privilege on
politics, and what further research can help answer the set of questions he lays out.
Although the “basic notion of countervailing factors is valid” (pg. 657), differences in
how countries have capitalized on (or failed to capitalize on) countervailing factors such
as natural resources, foreign aid, investor confidence, and internal reformers rests in large
part on the nature of privilege in developing societies. Likewise, some societies may have
internal limits on the scope of corruption, but these limits are also likely to depend on the
nature of privilege. In order to give more definite answers to the questions Hutchcroft
poses, further research into the politics of privilege is needed. This research should
explore the nature of privilege in three ways. It should develop metrics for measuring
both how calculable corruption is and how much it siphons off from development
spending, it should explore the connections between various forms of corruption within a
society, and it should seek to understand when societies are likely to develop an internal
sense of limits to corruption.
8. Herbert Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson, “A Research Agenda for the Study of
Citizen-Politician Linkages and Democratic Accountability” in Patrons, Clients, and
Policies: Patterns of Democratic Accountability and Political Competition, ed. Herbert
Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007),
pp. 322–343.
11. Frederic Charles Schaffer, “Lessons Learned,” in Elections for Sale: The Causes
and Consequences of Vote Buying, ed. Frederic Charles Schaffer (Boulder:
Lynne Rienner, 2007), pp. 183–200.
Vote buying is a unique electoral strategy, because it is both a method of voter
mobilization and vote manipulation. However, it is not the only available method of
either mobilization or manipulation. Vote buying has unique costs, benefits, and
organizational prerequisites that condition when politicians chose to buy votes and how
they do so. Because the monetary and organizational costs of vote buying tend to be
fairly high and the benefits fairly low, candidates will only embrace vote buying when
other forms of manipulation are not viable, programmatic campaigning is difficult, and
votes can be bought cheaply. The electoral strategies and tactics that candidates embrace
have diverse political and economic consequences. Most of the consequences associated
with vote buying are negative, but some of these consequences only result from particular
vote buying tactics. Others result from a broad range of mobilization and manipulation
strategies. Combating these consequences is difficult: vote buying is resilient against
most (although not all) reform efforts. To review the causes and consequences of vote
buying highlighted in Elections for Sale, Frederic Charles Schaffer highlights key
questions addressed throughout the volume that explain when vote buying occurs and
what happens when it does.
Vote buying requires sophisticated political organizations and substantial financial
resources, yet it is highly inefficient unless politicians can effectively violate ballot
secrecy. To buy votes, candidates need a grassroots organization of brokers who can use
their local knowledge to identify potential vote sellers and ensure that vote sellers comply
with the bargain. At the same time, candidates and central party offices must avoid
prosecution and monitor brokers to ensure that they are not embezzling funds. To finance
building an expansive organization and distributing handouts, politicians develop
relationships with the party or government, find wealthy backers, or engage in illegal
activity that requires additional organizational capacity. The sums of money required are
large, although the exact amount is difficult to measure precisely. Vote buying is a
“retail” strategy that targets voters individually instead of a more efficient “wholesale
strategy,” such as advertising or restricting opposition parties, that can affect elections en
masse.
While costly, vote buying is not a particularly dependable strategy. Because it is not a
normal market transaction, it cannot be enforced with standard legal mechanisms.
Instead, politicians enforce vote sales with normative inducements, informal sanctions,
contingency payments, and electoral surveillance. The first three methods are generally
ineffective because voters can defect undetected, and empirical evidence suggests that
they do defect more often than not. Only electoral surveillance, which involves exploiting
or violating electoral rules to observe sellers’ voting behavior, is generally effective.
“Negative vote buying” should be particularly common, because it is easier to prevent
individuals from voting than to monitor how they vote, yet it is empirically rare. It is
difficult to identify opposition supporters willing to sell their vote, and attempting to buy
abstention in an opponents’ stronghold can be dangerous for the broker. When
individuals can relinquish their ability to vote by surrendering a voter registration card or
dipping their finger in ink, and when political loyalties can easily be identified based on
ethnicity, negative vote buying does occasionally occur.
Because it has high costs and limited benefits, vote buying is only an attractive
electoral strategy under certain circumstances. First, other strategies for manipulation
must be ineffective. Social change or political enfranchisement can make voters more
independent and less susceptible to outright coercion, making vote buying appealing
when voters are integrated enough into social networks to be effectively targeted, but not
so integrated to be easily controlled. Electoral procedures must also make wholesale
fraud difficult without effectively inhibiting vote buying (retail fraud may be inherently
more difficult to control than wholesale fraud). Second, politicians must prefer vote
buying to other mobilization strategies. Institutional rules encourage vote buying when
they give politicians easy access to state resources, create small electoral districts (raising
the value of individual votes), and encourage intraparty competition (making it difficult
for candidates to distinguish themselves programmatically). However, non-institutional
factors that may vary within countries or extend across regions are equally potent.
Decentralized party systems with large grassroots networks make targeting and
monitoring easier than coordinating policy platforms, particularly when parties can
exploit high income inequality to buy votes cheaply. Finally, in societies where gift-
giving traditions and strong norms of reciprocity pressure vote sellers to behave honestly,
fewer sellers will defect.
Vote buying can have serious consequences for democratic representation, good
governance, and even economic structure. However, because the incentives that
encourage vote buying are so complex, they cause diverse vote buying practices with
different implications. The normative implications of vote buying depend, in part, on
individuals’ motivations for selling their votes. If citizens sell votes merely because they
value large material payoffs, then these citizens’ votes contain no information about their
true policy preferences. By contrast, if citizens sell votes because they are skeptical or
impatient about future programmatic promises, then their voting behavior expresses their
preference for an immediate and certain reward. The economic implications of vote
buying are more severe if politicians buy votes through agricultural landlords who direct
the behavior of their workers: landlords will increase their landholdings in order to gain
more workers and therefore more political power, consolidating land ownership in the
process. Other consequences of vote buying are shared across many electoral strategies:
vote buying and patronage both cause legislators to provide private goods and discourage
legislators from developing unique policy positions and taking credit for legislative
initiatives. Effectively analyzing the consequences of vote buying requires distinguishing
consequences that are exclusive and inevitable results of vote buying from those that are
also associated with other electoral strategies or are only associated with particular vote
buying tactics.
Across its many incarnations, vote buying is difficult to combat. Demand-side voter
education campaigns, in particular, are rarely effective. These campaigns tend to assume
that people sell votes out of material need and fear, and in doing so unintentionally
patronize voters. The campaigns ignore voters’ feelings of friendship and obligation
toward brokers—who are often their neighbors or friends—and voters’ perceptions that
candidates distribute gifts out of generosity and kindness. Supply-side reforms are more
effective, although their track record is still decidedly mixed. In Taiwan, the government
adopted an aggressive strategy of prosecuting vote buyers that succeeded in curbing the
practice. In Thailand, however, a comprehensive set of constitutional reforms failed to
curb vote buying: some of the reform measures counteracted or diluted others, and
candidates excelled at adapting to new institutional constraints and obtaining additional
financial resources to continue to vote buying. The aggressive and nonpartisan
enforcement of electoral laws, in short, appears to be the best option for curbing vote
buying. While the diverse and multifaceted practice is unlikely to disappear entirely,
further research can at least help explain it.
Africa
14. Pedro C. Vicente and Leonard Wantchekon, “Clientelism and Vote Buying:
Lessons from Field Experiments in African Elections,” Oxford Review of
Economic Policy 25, no. 2 (2009), pp. 292–305.
African governments typically provide a suboptimal level of public goods to their
citizens. Instead of campaigning on and pursuing broad policies such as economic
growth, education, health care, and infrastructure development, politicians campaign on
and pursue particularistic policies such as bribes and the distribution of state offices.
Pedro C. Vicente and Leonard Wantchekon distinguish between two particularistic
strategies for winning an election: vote buying and clientelism. Vote buying entails
providing supporters with resources prior to the election (such as cash bribes), while
clientelism entails providing supporters with resources after the election (such as
government jobs). Although these behaviors are politically effective, they are unlikely to
be economically efficient and are often seen as a major reason for Africa’s
underdevelopment.
Pedro C. Vicente and Leonard Wantchekon study the causes and consequences of
vote buying and clientelism in Africa to understand how to better provide public goods.
The authors draw on field experiments they conducted in West Africa, a methodological
approach that can identify causality better than observational studies, such as surveys and
ethnographies, and that is more generalizable than lab experiments in controlled settings.
This methodology allows them to draw conclusions about cause and effect that are
applicable in a wide range of contexts. They find that clientelism is particularly effective
for incumbent candidates, while opposition candidates are relatively more successful in
buying votes and promising public goods. Incumbents have a significant advantage in
elections because clientelism is more effective at attracting support than vote buying.
Policymakers, however, can develop support for public goods by emphasizing civic
education campaigns that mitigate the effect of vote buying on actual voting behavior and
by encouraging participation among women, who are more supportive of public goods
provision.
Each coauthor conducted an independent experiment during a presidential election in
West Africa. Wantchekon examined the impact of a campaign platform on voting
behavior during the 2001 election in Benin. He approached four of the leading five
presidential candidates and convinced them to participate in a study that randomized the
campaign messages used in some villages in their stronghold districts (districts where the
candidate’s party gained at least 70 percent of the vote in previous elections). In a total of
eight districts, one village was targeted using a public goods campaign while another was
targeted using a clientelistic campaign. To measure the relationship between campaign
message and voting behavior, Wantchekon conducted a survey after the election to
collect demographic and voting data.
Vicente examined the impact of voter education on voting behavior during the 2006
election in Sao Tome and Principe. With the cooperation of the Sao Tomean Electoral
Commission, the researchers distributed leaflets telling voters not to base their voting
decisions on payments from candidates in 40 census areas and studied the impact of the
leaflets on vote buying. Like Wantchekon, Vicente used a survey to collect demographic
and voting information, but he also used official election results as a secondary outcome
measure.
The authors find that clientelism is an effective tool for mobilizing support,
particularly for incumbents, but that policymakers can also effectively change voting
behavior and encourage campaigns based on the provision of public goods. Because only
the winning candidate can provide clientelistic benefits, voters who are promised benefits
have an incentive to vote for the candidate who offers benefits in order to secure these
benefits. In contrast, vote buying contains no enforcement mechanism (voters are not
required to support the candidate who bribes them). The research by Vicente shows that
civic education can diminish the impact of vote buying on actual voting behavior: vote
buying was more effective at increasing turnout than increasing support, as voters
accepted gifts but “voted in conscience.” Wantchekon finds that incumbents benefit most
from clientelistic appeals. Their commitments are more credible than their challengers,’
as they have a demonstrated record of providing benefits. Challengers have a
comparative advantage in vote buying and public goods appeals, although they face an
electoral disadvantage because vote buying is less effective at attracting supporters.
Women, co-ethnics of the candidates, and those with access to information were more
likely to value public goods, and civic education campaigns were particularly effective
among poor and uneducated voters with little prior access to information. Despite the
power of clientelistic and vote buying appeals, the experiments found that those appeals
are not universal or unalterable.
Vicente and Wantchekon conclude the article by discussing ways to encourage
campaigning that focuses on public rather particularistic goods, as well as reviewing
avenues for further research. Because incumbents enjoy an advantage based on their
control of existing resources, electoral systems should limit the power of incumbents with
term limits, public financing, and independent electoral commissions. Foreign donors can
incentivize accountability by making development aid contingent on local political
reforms. Education, media coverage, and the enfranchisement of women can also play a
great role in reducing the power of clientelism and vote buying, although the authors note
that further experimental research is needed in these avenues in order to explain what
specific features of a civic education campaign are effective and explore how female
participation in politics can be increased.
15. Nicolas van de Walle, “Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss? The Evolution
of Political Clientelism in Africa,” in Patrons, Clients, and Policies: Patterns of
Democratic Accountability and Political Competition, ed. Herbert Kitschelt and
Steven I. Wilkinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), pg. 50–
67.
The forms that clientelism takes across the world are shaped by countries’ political,
social, and economic characteristics. In postcolonial sub-Saharan Africa, pervasive
clientelism has historically been defined by three principle factors: poverty,
authoritarianism, and ethnic divisions. Because states and parties had few resources, little
capacity to distribute goods or monitor voters, and no need to mobilize voters, African
clientelism prior to democratization in the 1990s did not entail mass patronage. Instead, it
entailed the use of “prebendalism” that gave elites personal access to state offices and
resources—prebends—to facilitate accommodation between various elite factions.
Symbolic ties of kinship and ethnicity constituted a more important relationship between
elites and masses than material ties of clientelism. Many of these patterns have continued
into the democratic era: programmatic politics are rare, ethnicity is the greatest
determinant of political loyalty, and most countries in the region are dominated by
prebendalism. However, a small number of effectively liberalizing African democracies
appear to be transitioning from prebendal clientelism to patronage clientelism, which
involves stronger parties and greater rule of law.
Following René Lemarchand, Nicolas van de Walle distinguishes between three types
of clientelism. Patronage, the most frequently discussed form, involves distributing state
resources such as jobs or food to clients in exchange for political support. It is legally
ambiguous, usually operates through political parties, and is frequently deployed in mass
electoral politics. Tribute, the second kind of clientelism, is a traditional gift exchange
that builds bonds of reciprocity and trust. While frequently invoked by clientelistic
African leaders, it rarely occurs in modern society. Prebendalism, the third type of
clientelism, involves the capture of state office and resources for the personal (rather than
political) gain of leaders. It characterizes most early societies, usually operates through
authoritarian executives, and is unambiguously at odds with the rule of law and
professional administration. Giving a coethnic a job in a customs office, for example,
would be patronage, while allowing a customs officer to skim profits off import duties
would be prebendalism.
Between independence and democratization in the 1990s, the structure of African
states encouraged prebendalism in three ways. First, state institutions at the time of
independence were extremely weak. National governments competed with ethnic and
tribal sources of authority, lacked the infrastructure to deliver services and promote
national integration, and could not penetrate into rural hinterlands. Political parties were
young and, without the rallying cry of independence, lacked the ability to independently
mobilize voters. Instead, they recruited traditional local elites as clientelistic brokers
between the central state and the hinterland. Second, elections were not well-
institutionalized in the newly independent African states. Parties did not need to broadly
distribute patronage in order to obtain support at the polls, because they could simply
bypass elections altogether and seize power by force. Third, states were extremely poor
and underdeveloped. Governments had an extremely limited amount of resources to
distribute. Given these three factors, clientelism was mostly “a mechanism for
accommodation and integration of a fairly narrow political elite rather than a logic of
mass party patronage” and “the stronger link between political elites and the citizenry is
through the less tangible bonds of ethnic identity” (pg. 66). To pacify divides between
elites from different ethnic groups, generational and educational backgrounds, and
institutions (the state, military, church, and unions), executives built broad coalitions by
distributing powerful government posts and tolerating corruption. Civil services remained
relatively small, mass patronage was limited, development spending and tax revenues
were often siphoned off into private accounts, and political parties remained relatively
weak. The state was effectively under the private, prebendal control of a small group of
elites.
The emergence of democracy in Africa has not caused a mass shift from clientelistic
to programmatic politics. Many countries in the region, despite holding regular elections,
are still only nominally or partially democratic and do not effectively protect the rights of
their citizens, and continue to demonstrate prebendal patterns of clientelism. In most
cases, parties remain weak and personalized, with a single dominant party surrounded by
small, transient parties. Politicians seek prebends by joining the ruling party or forming a
small, personalized coalition partner rather than pursuing policy goals by coalescing into
a strong, cohesive opposition party. Although programmatic parties enjoy little success,
vote buying is limited. Voters’ widespread belief that politicians from another ethnic
group, region, or religion will not treat them fairly is not always founded. Parties have
little incentive to favor their ethnic bases because these bases are unlikely to defect. In
some party systems, such as in the Ivory Coast, parties in the democratic era have
become more willing to exclude certain groups from the winning coalition in order to
maintain discipline and distribute elite prebends among a smaller circle. To the average
voter, however, the costs and benefits of clientelism are mostly indirect: an ethnic leader
might lose a ministerial appointment or win a prestigious ambassadorship, but his
followers are unlikely to lose or win in material terms.
Clientelism shows no signs of declining throughout the continent, but patronage does
appear to be replacing prebends in the continent’s more consolidated democratic regimes.
In a small number of liberalizing democracies, the rule of law is encouraging a shift to
more legally acceptable forms of clientelism, free media is exposing corrupt practices,
and fair elections are pressuring politicians to be responsive. In countries like Mauritius
and Botswana, where democracy preceded the 1990s, party patronage and the
politicization of the civil service are widespread but prebends are severely restricted.
However, outsider parties—even in these countries—are unable to mount challenges to
incumbents based on policy issues. When given a choice between a programmatic and
clientelistic party, voters are likely to support the clientelistic party, because a winning
clientelistic party, unlike a winning programmatic party, will retaliate against groups that
did not support it. Despite the limited shift away from prebendalism, programmatic
politics are still rare in Africa and will continue to be for the foreseeable future.
Asia
17. Anirudh Krishna, “Politics in the Middle: Mediating Relationships between the
Citizens and the State in Rural North India,” in Patrons, Clients, and Policies:
Patterns of Democratic Accountability and Political Competition, ed. Herbert
Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2007), pp. 141–158.
In rural northern India, traditional political linkages are being challenged by an
emerging new class of political entrepreneurs. The relationship between villagers and the
state has historically been mediated by clientelistic rural elites through caste associations
and landlords. Over the past twenty-five years, however, changes in the Indian state have
encouraged the proliferation of new leaders, or naya netas. These naya netas derive their
authority from entrepreneurial political skills rather than formal posts, economic power,
or caste status. They are better educated, better informed, and better able to interact with
the state apparatus and deliver benefits to supporters than traditional elites. With rising
levels of education, the expansion of the state in rural areas, and increasing party
competition, the government and political parties depend on naya netas to implement
policies and attract political support. They have become the primary intermediaries
between citizens and government in villages in Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh states.
Although the relationship between leaders and followers is still based on the exchange of
material benefits for political support, it is far less hierarchical and authoritarian than
traditional forms of patronage and provides citizens with deeper democracy and increased
economic opportunity.
The role of mediator between state and citizen is often filled by political parties.
However, Indian parties are incapable of fulfilling this role directly because state and
party institutions do not penetrate the village level. Instead, politicians rely upon existing
social structures for interest articulation, mobilization, and policy implementation. During
interviews in 69 villages located in two northern Indian states, Anirudh Krishna found
that naya netas were overwhelmingly villagers’ preferred means of interacting with the
state: 60 percent of respondents indicated a preference for naya netas, while no more than
20 percent indicated a preference for any other intermediary (party officials, traditional
patrons, elected council leaders, and caste leaders). Compared with traditional elites, they
are younger, members of lower castes, and have fewer land holdings, but they are also
better educated, better connected, and better informed. Three-quarters of the naya netas
are from formerly untouchable castes, but they are on average a decade and a half
younger and possess six more years of education. These characteristics enable them to
understand and interact with the state bureaucracy more effectively than traditional elites
can and to help citizens obtain benefits from the state. In particular, they can best provide
economic development, which respondents overwhelming consider their highest priority
from the political system.
Three factors are behind the rise of these new entrepreneurs capable of navigating the
rules of government in rural India. First, improvements in the Indian education system
have empowered poor and low caste citizens. Literacy rates have increased dramatically:
72 percent of lower-caste villagers aged 18 to 25 are functionally literate, compared with
6 percent of those above age 55. As a result, more people are capable of unmediated and
independent access to the state bureaucracy, increasing the potential supply of naya
netas. Education also gives younger leaders an advantage when coming into conflict with
older leaders, because they are able to utilize formal channels of government to their
advantage. Meanwhile, the state has expanded rapidly in rural areas. Between 1980 and
1995, government funding for rural development increased sevenfold. Because the
capacity of state and party institutions in rural areas is weak, government officials
“unofficially, but quite centrally” (pg. 152) rely on village leaders to implement programs
such as small-scale public works and family planning initiatives and to fairly distribute
state employment opportunities that come from these programs. Educated young villagers
—the naya netas—are ideal program leaders because they can keep records, can devote
time to the project without the distraction of other responsibilities, and are highly capable
of interacting with bureaucrats. Third, increasing party competition has forced parties to
go to increasing lengths to attract supporters. Because naya netas attract significant local
support from villagers in exchange for help addressing political problems, they are
courted by politicians who trade development projects for political support. In
combination, these three factors make the support of naya netas appealing for both
villagers and politicians.
The role of the naya neta is undoubtedly clientelistic. As intermediaries between
politicians and voters, they trade personalistic benefits for votes. However, naya netas
provide a more egalitarian and democratic relationship than traditional intermediaries do.
Unlike in traditional clientelistic relationship, villagers can usually choose between
multiple brokers to follow, and brokers can choose from among multiple political parties
to support. The competition for support ensures that brokers and political parties work
honestly and effectively for the welfare of citizens in order to retain support. Naya netas
deepen democracy by increasing both participation (of traditionally parochial groups) and
contestation (between parties and between patrons). However, for all their virtues, they
are essentially a stopgap measure. Better brokers do not “constitute a sustainable solution
to the vacuum of upward representation that separates villagers from the Indian state”
(pg. 157) and continue villagers’ reliance on individuals over institutions. Because the
internal politics of Indian parties are rarely democratic, it is unlikely that naya netas can
coalesce into a formal party apparatus. Naya netas provide a benign form of clientelism
that can strengthen democracy, but they are no substitute for programmatic, party-based
linkages that eventually must take hold.
18. Bruce Kam-Kwan Kwong, “Patron-Client Politics in Hong Kong: A Case Study
of the 2002 and 2005 Chief Executive Elections,” Journal of Contemporary
China 16, no. 52 (August 2007), pp. 389–415.
Clientelism dominates the selection of the Hong Kong Chief Executive. The Chief
Executive, created in 1997 to replace the British Governor, is nominated and selected
through a “small circle” election by political elites, most of whom represent economic
sectors such as finance, higher education, textiles, and agriculture. Traditional Chinese
political culture encourages the use of intra-elite personal connections for political ends.
As a result, candidates can develop personal relationships with electors, monitor electors’
public nominations, and trade state offices, government resources, and public recognition
for political support. The first two Chief Executives have both expanded their supply of
patronage resources by cultivating a close relationship with the Beijing government and
its local loyalists. By deploying these resources, they have been able to secure
overwhelming support from the elite electorate and, since the initial round of elections,
preempt the nomination of competing candidates. In exchange, the mainland government
is able to exercise control over Hong Kong politics without violating the region’s formal
autonomy. However, while clientelistic politics remains strong, the absolute dominance
of the loyalist faction is eroding in the face of better-organized democratic opposition.
The combination of political institutions and cultural practices in Hong Kong are
highly conducive to clientelistic politics. The tiered electoral system used for selecting
the Chief Executive encourages candidates to make personalized, clientelistic bargains in
addition to generalized, programmatic pledges. The Executive is selected by a 400-voter
committee (in 1996) or an 800-voter committee (since 2002). Although the committee’s
exact composition varies, it is comprised mostly of representatives elected by
professional and business organizations but also includes a small number of
representatives from geographic constituencies and religious groups, Hong Kong
delegates to mainland political bodies, and the members of the Hong Kong Legislative
Council. Electors must publicly support the nomination of a single candidate, but they
cast their final votes secretly. Candidates with more than 100 public nominations are
included in the final secret ballot. While the Chief Executive cannot monitor the final
vote, he can monitor the nomination process and reward or punish electors accordingly.
The instrumental use of guanxi (friendship) and the involvement of ren-ch’ing (personal
relations) in politics—rewarding and punishing electors—is generally an accepted
practice and has expanded with the advent of greater political competition since
retrocession. As such, clientelism is both an institutionally viable and a culturally
acceptable tactic.
Electors who support the winning candidate expect to receive political rewards. A
survey of the Election Committee members in 2002 found that most expected to obtain
particularistic benefits for their constituencies in exchange for political support: 80
percent thought that the executive should be especially responsive to their personal
problems and sectoral interests, and a plurality of 41 percent expected more resources for
their sectors. Smaller segments of the committee were more personalistic: 8 percent
nominated Tung Chee-hwa (the winning candidate) because they were asked by a friend,
12 percent did so because it would be helpful to their career, 6 percent hoped for an
appointment to a government consultative committee, and 6 percent supported appointing
electors to government or advisory positions. Tung targeted four groups of particularly
critical electors with these more extensive benefits: personal friends and allies, backers of
his initial rise to power, influential Beijing supporters in Hong Kong, and potential
opponents who could be coopted with patronage. They received access to public
resources, receptions and awards, prestigious government jobs, and positions on
consultative committees and mainland political bodies. Appointments to consultative
committees, heightened social status, and prestigious government awards were the most
valued benefits for building political support.
In all three rounds of executive elections in Hong Kong, the small-circle electoral
system and the “prevailing elite political culture that stressed guanxi and ren-ch’ing” (pg.
399) have inhibited real competition. Tung Chee-hwa was able to win the initial election
in 1996 because he built strong patron-client relationships with electors and members of
the Preparatory Committee that organized the transition from British to Chinese rule.
This network included important Hong Kong businesspeople, prominent Beijing
supporters, and members of the mainland political structure, including his “ultimate
patron” (pg. 413), Chinese President Jiang Zemin. For the mainland government,
patronage was “an effective, legitimate but hidden means of control” (pg. 414) that
bypasses popular mistrust and formal political autonomy by utilizing the mainland’s
cultural and business ties to Hong Kong. By the 2002 elections, support for opposition
candidates had withered away as the pro-Beijing patronage network solidified. The
opposition was unable to obtain enough public support from Election Committee
members to nominate a rival candidate for Chief Executive, even though public approval
for the Tung government was low. After Tung resigned in 2005, his successor, Donald
Tsang, likewise did not face any opposing nominees. Tsang had weaker ties to Beijing
loyalists, and encountered initial skepticism because he was a civil servant in the British
colonial regime. However, he was able to win widespread support by attracting the
backing of Hu Jintao and the Beijing government and continuing benefits for key electors
and constituencies.
Although clientelism remains important, the power of the incumbent Chief Executive
seems to be fading. The democratic opposition has become politically savvy and
strategically sophisticated: they now control 134 seats in the Election Committee, with
strong support from the legal, education, and university sectors, and plan to nominate a
well-respected and moderate lawyer named Alan Leong Kah Kit to run against Tsang in
2007. Unless Tsang can coopt a large number of opposition and independent electors, the
democrats have the 100 nominations necessary to hold a competitive election with secret
ballots. Furthermore, support for Donald Tsang has eroded, as he has failed to build up
good personal relations with Beijing loyalists in Hong Kong and has been criticized by
the Beijing government for allowing the opposition to gain strength. Given popular
mistrust and formal autonomy, Beijing relies upon clientelism to influence Hong Kong
politics and has attempted to expand the reach of guanxi and ren-ch’ing. However, given
Hong Kong’s long tradition of pluralism, hegemonic clientelism appears unsustainable.
19. Emmanuel Teitelbaum and Tariqu Thachil, “Party Fragmentation and the
Emergence of Programmatic Spending in the Indian States,” paper presented
at conference on “Redistribution, Public Goods & Political Market Failures,”
April 9–10, 2010, Yale University.
In developing democracies, the relationship between citizens and politicians is often
characterized by hierarchical, clientelistic ties. In exchange for electoral support,
politicians provide impoverished voters with excludable state resources. This pattern has
traditionally dominated politics even in India, a successful and relatively stable
developing democracy. However, according to Teitelbaum and Thachil, greater voter
enfranchisement and changing party structures in recent decades have begun a transition
away from clientelism and towards programmatic, participatory politics that emphasize
voter autonomy and the provision of public goods. This has occurred as the traditional
dominance of the Indian National Congress party and upper-caste elites has eroded with
the rise of lower-caste political parties. The emergence of caste-based parties has
increased party system fragmentation and, under India’s first-past-the-post electoral rules,
allows politicians to win elections with a relatively small plurality of votes. A study of
formal institutions would suggest that this increases clientelism, because politicians can
win office by targeting a narrow constituency with clientelistic benefits. The opposite has
actually occurred: the growth of autonomous lower-caste parties has given new-found
autonomy to voters who were previously “encapsulated” into blocs controlled by local
elites. As such, this expansion has forced politicians to appeal to a broad swath of lower-
class voters by providing public goods. Under the socioeconomic conditions that exist in
India, increasing party fragmentation along social cleavages can effectively combat
clientelism and encourage spending on broad social goods like education and healthcare.
Scholars have frequently noted India’s increasing cleavage and fragmentation along
caste lines, but they have drawn contrasting conclusions about these trends. Great
political advancements have been made by the Other Backwards Classes (OBCs), a social
group mostly comprised of the low castes immediately above untouchables and
indigenous tribal communities in the Indian social hierarchy. In the early years of
independence, OBCs’ votes were largely controlled or “encapsulated” by local upper-
caste elites with close ties to the Congress party. OBCs began mobilizing politically in
1960s and 1970s and formed regionally significant political parties by the 1990s,
increasing the fragmentation of the Indian party system and challenging the Congress
party’s traditional dominance. Some scholars have argued that this party fragmentation
caused a decrease in spending on public goods, because fragmentation allows politicians
to win office with the support of a relatively small segment of the population by targeting
clientelistic benefits to a narrow constituency in a first-past-the-post electoral system.
Although formal institutional rules should connect increasing fragmentation with
clientelism, Teitelbaum and Thachil argue that increased fragmentation has actually
decreased clientelism and increased public goods spending in the Indian states. The
broader social trend behind increasing fragmentation—enfranchisement of OBCs—
means that “since political elites in multiparty systems are less able to effectively capture
lower caste votes through traditional clientelist structures, it has become preferable for
them to begin providing public goods to the broad selectorate” (pg. 16). Furthermore, the
relatively poor OBCs have greater need for public services like education and healthcare,
because they cannot afford to purchase these services privately. As such, states with
greater party fragmentation and higher OBC representation should demonstrate three
testable qualities. First, OBC representation should correlate positively with party
fragmentation. Second, party fragmentation should correlate positively with spending on
difficult-to-target social services like education and healthcare, and negatively with
spending on easy-to-target economic services like irrigation and energy. Third, OBC
representation should correlate positively with spending on public goods. As a secondary
measure, the authors also consider literacy rates to assess whether caste-driven party
formation has caused a measurable gap in policy outputs.
Controlling for wealth, ideology, election years, and population, the authors find
strong statistical evidence that the political clout of the OBCs does cause increased rates
of spending on public goods, because it increases party fragmentation. Political
participation of OBCs has a significant and substantial effect on party fragmentation: a
one percent increase in OBC representation leads to a .045 increase in the Effective
Number of Parties by Votes (ENPV) or a .027 increase in the Effective Number of Parties
by Seats (ENPS) and on the levels of education spending. ENPV and ENPS, in turn, are
correlated with increased spending on social services, decreased spending on economic
services, and higher literacy rates. Among the control variables, population was
positively correlated with spending on social services across most of the models, as it is
more difficult to win elections through targeted distribution of benefits when a larger
population increases the size of the selectorate. The combination of these results suggests
that party fragmentation is at least one of the key mechanisms by which the increased
participation of OBCs has led to increased spending on social services.
In contrast to many other scholars, Teitelbaum and Thachil conclude that politicized
ethnicity can, in fact, benefit democracy and good governance. Parties that represent
traditionally marginalized groups transform suffrage into genuine enfranchisement and
shift states away from clientelistic policies based on encapsulation towards programmatic
policies based on the notion of citizenship. The authors suggest that the political
representation of minorities, which appears to strengthen democracy in India, should be
held analytically distinct from ethnic fragmentation. Given ethnic pluralism, “the
increased political salience of ethnic identity…[does] not serve to fracture
communities…but instead weakens relations of local dominance that prevent
marginalized populations from having their demands met” (pg. 30). In divided
developing societies like India, where “rigid clientelist structures that enable a small
group of elites to dominate a heterogeneous society have been the hallmark of political
incorporation” (pg. 31), parties that mirror these social structures and increase
fragmentation can lead towards a more representative and more effective government.
Latin America
30. Ellen Lust, “Competitive Clientelism in the Middle East,” Journal of Democracy
20, no. 3 (July 2009), pp. 122–135.
Although legislative elections sometimes bring about democratic transition, many
authoritarian regimes have conducted competitive legislative elections for decades
without jeopardizing their political power. These elections are a frequent occurrence in
Middle Eastern and North African (MENA) governments, including Egypt, Jordan,
Morocco, Kuwait, Syria, Algeria, and Palestine. Ellen Lust argues that the purpose of
elections in these governments is not to choose leaders or make policy, but to facilitate
“competitive clientelism:” competition over state resources that elected patrons can
distribute to clients. Because voters and candidates hostile to the government will not be
able to effectively access state resources, competitive clientelism is usually a
conservative force that reinforces the existing government.
The central purpose of the legislator in the authoritarian MENA states is to serve as a
wasta, or mediator, between the citizen and the state. In the absence of government
transparency and the rule of law, survey evidence shows that most individuals believe
that an intermediary is necessary to help them obtain benefits from the state: less than a
quarter of Algerians surveyed believed the best way to resolve a problem with the
government was to take it directly to the agency involved. The legislator is an ideal wasta
because he or she can resolve conflict and distribute state resources such as licenses, jobs,
housing, or higher education to loyal clients, and voters seek legislators who can and will
provide them with these benefits. In turn, the legislator receives personal access to state
resources as well as personal prestige and often spends significant resources on
campaigning. Because “citizens vote for wasta rather than this or that policy” (pg. 127),
however, clientelistic legislators are rarely challenged on the basis of their ideological
and programmatic attitudes. Without substantial policy platforms, political parties “tend
to be weak organization with little control over or support for their candidates” (pg. 127)
and are seen merely as “personalistic cliques” (pg. 131).
Competitive clientelism is generally a conservative force. Individuals who oppose the
existing government are rarely effective at extracting benefits from it, so they cannot
provide patronage and do not receive support. Voters from marginalized social groups are
unlikely to vote because they do not believe their legislator will provide them with
benefits, while voters from powerful social groups have an incentive to vote; likewise,
turnout is lower in (generally liberal) urban areas where interpersonal networks are
weaker that in rural (generally more conservative) areas. Elites who aspire to a seat in
parliament will continue to support the regime in the hope of one day winning office,
while genuine opposition figures are unlikely to even run for office, as doing so is
“ideologically distasteful and a poor investment” (pg. 129) for opposition figures because
it legitimizes the regimes, entails a costly campaign, and is unlikely to result in victory if
voters do not believe the candidate has wasta and is able to obtain state resources.
Under these circumstances, the prospects for authoritarian legislative elections to
cause meaningful democratization are small, although not nonexistent. Clientelistic
elections discredit and foster cynicism about democracy while supporting
authoritarianism by more efficiently distributing patronage by and coopting elites into
government. Authoritarian parliaments have few powers and are further weakened by a
high turnover rate, so they have little ability to affect change. However, elections may
still promote democratization if held in the face of political and economic crisis: if
legislators’ credibility is threatened because they lack political legitimacy or because
scarce resources inhibit their ability to deliver benefits to their clients, opposition
candidates may be able to seize control of the legislature. Strengthening electoral
procedures is not necessarily the most important component of democracy building
within authoritarian legislatures. Instead, Lust concludes that external groups should
apply pressure to increase the power of the legislature and should seek to diminish the
necessity of wasta via improved government accountability and economic development
in order to promote a programmatically-oriented legislative branch.
31. Klarita Gërxhani and Arthur Schram, “Clientelism and Polarized Voting:
Empirical Evidence,” Public Choice 141, no. 3–4 (December 2009), pp. 305–
317.
Formal models of voting typically assume that voters chose candidates based on a
rational evaluation of their policies: if an incumbent government performs poorly, voters
are likely to reject that government in an election. However, these models do not consider
the role of clientelism in determining voter behavior. Klarita Gërxhani and Arthur
Schram build an alternative formal model of voting behavior in post-Communist Albania
that takes into account the strong clientelistic ties between the major political parties and
their regional bases of support. They then test the performance of this model against a
more conventional model. The results support their hypothesis that voters with a
clientelistic attachment to one party support that party regardless of its policy
performance, as they receive continued benefits from the party. The success of this
clientelistic voting model suggests that clientelism and other nationally-specific features
need to be better taken into account in models of voting behavior.
Gërxhani and Schram begin by examining the clientelistic nature of Albanian politics.
Following the Cold War, two major political parties emerged in Albania: the Democratic
Party of Albania (DPA) and the Socialist Party of Albania (SPA). The parties reflect a
strong cultural and linguistic cleavage between the north and the south of the country: the
DPA is tied to the north and the SPA to the south. Both parties are controlled by small
groups of political elites who retain popular support in part by patronizing their bases of
support and distributing material benefits there. As such, Gërxhani and Schram classify
the political system as a system of “clientelistic parties” based on Han Joachim Lauth’s
criteria: it involves free political participation via elections, competing patron-client
networks in the north and south, and patrons who come primarily from the political
establishment. They hypothesize that clientelistic voters in the north and south will not
react critically to poor policy performance of their supported parties, and will instead
remain loyal regardless of their party’s behavior.
More specifically, the authors argue that “when the DPA (SPA) is in office, voters in
the south (north) react negatively to economic swings, which they attribute to the
government” but that voters “in the north (south) have a strong alliance with the
governing DPA (SPA) irrespective of its economic policies” (pg. 308). This phenomenon
was demonstrated in the 1996, 1997, and 2001 elections. In central Albania, where
clientelism is weaker, the authors predict that voters will evaluate both parties’ economic
performance. The model makes a simplifying assumption that the north is populated
exclusively by DPA clients, the south exclusively by SPA clients, and the central region
exclusively by non-clients. Economic performance is represented by the unemployment
level in voters’ districts: previous studies have established that unemployment and
inflation are the economic indicators most consistently related to voting behavior, and
district-level inflation data was not available to the authors.
Gërxhani and Schram first model how the individual voter assesses the quality of a
political party and then consider how individual assessments aggregate in the form of
elections. Voters assess the challenging party with a two term utility function: they make
decisions based on a regional ideological predisposition towards one party common to all
voters in a region (north, south, or central) but separate from clientelism, and a random,
exponentially distributed individual disposition towards one candidate. The utility
function for the incumbent party is based on these two terms plus a third term that
represents the voter’s evaluation of economic performance (a challenger does not have
economic performance to evaluate). Most voters compare the actual rate of
unemployment in their district with a baseline level of unemployment that is considered
acceptable by all Albanians and base their evaluation of economic policy on this
comparison. Voters in the same district place the same importance on economic issues,
although this may vary between districts. However, in the clientelistic version of the
model, voters in a party’s base region do not consider economic performance of that
party. The relative success of either party depends on the proportion of voters in a district
who favor it over its opposition.
By comparing the predictions of both non-clientelistic and clientelistic variations of
the model with actual electoral outcomes, the authors are able to assess the importance of
clientelism. They find that the statistical function that models the success of a party more
accurately describes actual outcomes when voters’ reactions to unemployment are
allowed to vary by region—for example, when northern voters with a clientelistic
attachment to a DPA incumbent do not care about its economic performance but southern
and central voters do. The explanatory power of the model without regional polarization
is noticeably weaker at explaining voting behavior than the model with regional
polarization: the former explains at least 8 percent less variation in the data for each of
the three elections surveyed. A formal test of statistical significance rejects the “no
polarization” model in favor of the more sophisticated “clientelistic polarization” model.
Based on the greater success of a clientelistic model for voting, the authors find that
“a proper evaluation of democratization in Albania requires looking beyond elections per
se” (pg. 314) to consider informal political ties. They highlight two speculative reasons
for the importance of clientelism in Albania. First, the longstanding clan divisions
between north and south may fuel clientelistic attitudes towards the parties. Second, the
weakness of Albania’s formal governing institutions may encourage the growth of
clientelism: without strong institutions, candidates cannot credibly make strong
commitments to take enact meaningful policies and instead face an agency problem.
Because it is impossible to change the historic cleavage between north and south, the
authors conclude in summary that “only if formal institutions develop that may better
guide and control government policies may it be possible to break the centuries old
informal institution of clientelism” (pg. 315).