Is Ukraine too corrupt to be a part of the European Union? In a recent Rethinking European Development and Security (REDS) seminar talk co-hosted by CDDRL and The Europe Center, Maria Popova, McGill University Associate Professor of Political Science, assessed how serious the issue of Ukrainian corruption really is. While some observers have claimed that Ukraine’s corruption renders it unprepared for EU accession, Popova’s research suggests otherwise. Contrasting Ukraine to recent EU entrants — Bulgaria, Romania, and Croatia — she finds that corruption indices are not very helpful in drawing reliable conclusions.

In all four said countries, corruption is touted as the most salient issue, with strikingly similar scandals occurring across them. Over the last ten years, Ukraine has developed an extensive anti-corruption infrastructure, forming institutions for the prevention, investigation, and prosecution of corruption cases, as well as for asset recovery. These institutions have produced mixed results, and issues of political competition between institutions have tainted their wider reputation, with the National Agency for Prevention of Corruption receiving the most positive feedback. Innovative e-procurement systems like ProZorro have been internationally praised. Ukraine is unique in that its anti-corruption infrastructure came well before attempting EU accession. 

Bulgaria, on the other hand, established its anti-corruption agencies ten years after becoming an EU member. These institutions have since become politically compromised; so much so that anti-corruption reformists recently forced their abolition. 

In Romania, institutions were created around the time of accession and have been successful in holding corrupt oligarchs accountable. Similarly, Croatia’s anti-corruption reforms proceeded during accession negotiations.

Although the four countries adopted similar anti-corruption institutional reforms, today Ukraine tracks as significantly more corrupt than the EU members across measures of regime, public sector, executive, and political corruption, even though it is cleaner than Romania was when it started accession negotiations, more corrupt than Bulgaria was, and equally corrupt as Croatia at its start of negotiations. Why? Popova argued that the indices are fundamentally non-comparative and thus need to be taken with a grain of salt. The score for each country is determined by experts that focus exclusively on that country, who consider variation in corruption over time only. Moreover, the abstract conceptual definition of corruption is applied to their narrow case knowledge and experience and thus reflects local, rather than generalizable conceptualization. 

While index scores correlate with local perceptions, this, too, may just reflect a narrative on the ground. If the local narrative is that the country is highly corrupt, the population will likely perceive it to be, with no sense of its real magnitude. 

When analyzing Ukraine’s anti-corruption institutions, Popova finds that Ukraine is better prepared for EU accession than is widely assumed.

What is authoritarian sharp power, and how has it shaped the current geopolitical landscape and the state of democracy around the globe? In a CDDRL research seminar series talk, Christopher Walker — Vice President for Studies and Analysis at the National Endowment for Democracy — and Will Dobson, the co-editor of the Journal of Democracy, discussed their new book Defending Democracy in an Age of Sharp Power (Johns Hopkins University Press 2023). The co-authors argue that dictators have moved beyond the suppression of their own citizens and are now actively attempting to erode the pillars of democratic societies. 

Conventional wisdom of the last 25 years suggests that the solution to our “authoritarian problem” is simple: the passage of time. Over time, scholars argued, authoritarian political systems would gradually and peacefully give way to democratic ones, with rising demands for political rights. Globalization would bind authoritarian elites to their Western counterparts via business, and the internet would expose citizens to new ways of thinking. 

However, the authoritarian regimes have not subsided. In fact, they have worked to undermine democratic institutions in other countries. Thus, Defending Democracy in an Age of Sharp Power serves as a rebuttal to these illusions, arguing that free societies can no longer afford this sort of complacency. 

Autocrats see democracies as an existential threat to their way of rule, both at home and abroad. Accordingly, they have begun reaching across borders to stymie democracy where it does not exist and undermine it where it does. 

How are they doing this? By attacking the facet of democratic society people believed was its principal strength, namely its openness. While autocrats are able to harden themselves and their societies from the free world, commitment to democracy fundamentally means a free exchange of ideas. This allows autocrats to target the minds of foreign publics by manipulating key institutions, such as universities, think tanks, media outlets, and entertainment companies. 

But it is not just autocrats’ outward-looking strategy that has permitted this infiltration; democracies themselves are complacent. Many powerful actors have been willing to cede their values and principles, sometimes for money or prestige, but sometimes just due to a lack of understanding and foresight. 

To prevent further influence, Walker and Dobson stress that democracies need to take both reactive and proactive measures. In response to the offense of autocracies, democracies must commit to prioritizing openness and transparency. They must, for example, prevent deals that extend China’s influence. Democracies must also work to correct knowledge asymmetries and think of innovative ways to get information about China and its role into the wider world. On the proactive front, democracies must defend their own values and the intrinsic benefit of a democratic system.

What has driven Russia’s violence in and against Ukraine from the 19th century to the contemporary era? In a recent Rethinking European Development and Security (REDS) Seminar talk co-hosted by The Europe Center and CDDRL, Eugene Finkel, the Kenneth H. Keller Associate Professor of International Affairs at Johns Hopkins University, argued that Russia’s recurrent attacks against Ukraine can be traced to issues of identity and security. Finkel draws on what he described as a two-hundred-year-long quest by Russia to dominate Ukraine, as detailed in his upcoming book Intent to Destroy (due for release in November 2024 by Basic Books).

Reflecting on the role of Russian identity in driving the country’s attempts to capture Ukraine, Finkel pointed out that many Russians think of Ukrainians as a subbranch of the Russian people.  These stark views on identity, he noted, are partly the product of the struggle between the Russian Empire and the Polish Independence movement. In an effort to avoid Polish influence, Russia began emphasizing unity between the Russian and Ukrainian people.

Security is another key driver of Russia’s aggression. There are large geographical features that block off Ukraine from the rest of Europe, but no such dividing features exist between Ukraine and Russia. As such, any force that enters Ukraine can easily invade Russia. Historical repetition of this route has made Ukraine seemingly imperative to Russian national security.

Regime security also plays an important role. Many of the democratic ideas reaching Russia were diffused through Ukraine. Abiding by the logic of Russians and Ukrainians as one people, if Ukraine can be democratic, so can Russia. Thus, an independent democratic Ukraine poses a serious ideological threat to the regime. 

Finkel argues that identity and security have always been the driving factors of Russia’s aggression. To illustrate this continuity of this trend, he draws upon a case study from the early 20th century, namely the Russian occupation of Galicia and Bukovyna. As rising Ukrainian activism threatened the Russian empire, the regime responded with propaganda peddling the notion that Ukraine had been created to destroy Russia from within – a stark parallel to propaganda today. Russia also waged a war to “liberate” the Ukrainians, believing that annexing Galicia would allow Russia to reestablish its rightful boundaries.

The conflict resulted in violence and plunder against civilians, targeting of Ukrainian community leaders, banning Ukrainian publications, and switching the education system – actions closely mimicking those of Russia today. 

In 2022, Russia’s “divide and repress” strategy failed. Ukraine witnessed the emergence of a nation – Ukrainian identity became more pronounced. Russia’s initial plan was to repress Ukraine’s elites, not conduct mass executions. But as the war progressed and Ukrainians turned from brother to traitor, the violence escalated. 

This obsession begs the question – when will Russia’s quest to dominate Ukraine end? Or rather, how? Given the central role of identity in driving this quest, Finkel believes that the only realistic path for ending this longstanding trend is changing the education system – a path that Russia seems to be moving further away from.

Can indigenous communities ruling through politically autonomous institutions better protect against cartel takeover? In a CDDRL seminar series talk, Beatriz Magaloni, the Graham H. Stuart Professor of International Relations, a Senior Fellow at Stanford’s Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies, and Director of CDDRL’s Poverty, Violence, and Governance Lab argued that in Mexico, indigenous communities ruled by traditional governance have proven more resilient against cartel takeovers than comparable municipalities relying on state-backed security provision. 

Existing literature typically frames violence in developing countries as a manifestation of state weakness. But, in many areas of the world, organized criminal groups infiltrate the state, buying off intelligence, protection, and impunity. 

In Mexico, cartels infiltrate local governments by funding political campaigns, killing those who refuse to be bought off. In this context, the selection of leaders through conventional Western multi-party elections is an effective vehicle through which cartels can extend their influence. 

The capture of municipal political bodies is advantageous to cartels as it allows them to diversify their revenue generation. Access to intelligence, resources, and territory makes demanding regular payments and extracting natural resources far easier. It also allows cartels to gain discretionary power in the decision of who the state grants protection to or not. This bleak reality in which the borders between the state, organized crime, rule of law, and impunity are blurred elevates the urgency of investigating to what extent “opting out” of the state represents a viable alternative in the provision of security. 

In Oaxaca and other regions across Mexico, indigenous communities have the right to govern autonomously. In their traditional form of governance, known as “usos y costumbres,” local elections and political parties are banned. Authorities are instead selected through community assemblies, in which decision-making is highly participatory. Based on this traditional governance, a growing number of indigenous communities have established community police groups, which are detached from the state and constituted by local community members with little or no professional police training. 

Importantly, autonomous indigenous municipalities still receive state transfers and cannot be punished for opting out of the party system. In conducting extensive qualitative fieldwork, Magaloni sought to understand whether this traditional governance structure prohibits cartel infiltration and keeps communities safer. 

The team hypothesized that higher levels of cartel presence would increase violence – which they proxied with homicide rates. They expected less cartel presence and less violence in Usos (autonomous indigenous communities) relative to party-controlled municipalities. Lower levels of police corruption and better deterrence against criminal cells were also expected for communities ruled by Usos. 

The initial exploratory analysis showed that following the autonomous governance reform, Usos communities experienced a sharp decrease in violence. When the drug war began in 2006, these communities continued to see low levels of violence, whereas comparable municipalities suffered a sharp increase. 

Magaloni employed a variety of difference in difference analyses to control for possible confounders. Usos communities were compared to similarly sized, similarly indigenous communities. Using a geographic discontinuity design, Usos were also compared to municipalities just 1 km from the border of Oaxaca – those ruled by multi-party elections. The analysis controlled for opium poppy suitability and history of ancestral governance practices. 

The analysis confirmed that the more cartel presence, the more violence a community experienced. Across all models, the team was able to conclude that Usos communities saw significantly less cartel presence, fewer homicides, and less violence. 

Magaloni’s work highlights the state's limitations in creating order in circumstances where criminal groups have compromised it. It also suggests that in the context of these predatory regimes, indigenous political autonomy can serve as a powerful rampart to the corrosive presence of organized crime.

Why do politicians invest in infrastructure projects that will not be completed during their time in office? In a CDDRL seminar series talk, Harvard University Professor of Government Alisha Holland addressed the question, shedding light on how the advent of public-private partnerships (PPPs) has shifted politicians’ orientation toward infrastructure projects.  

According to Holland, infrastructure investment has been on the rise in the developing world despite witnessing a steady decline in advanced industrial democracies. Why? The influx of PPPs has made infrastructure projects appealing to politicians, who have utilized such contracts to raise funds for electoral campaigns and delay project costs.

In the past, infrastructure projects were largely aimed at creating jobs for a given politician’s base of supporters and would-be voters. Thus, politicians were keen on seeing the successful completion of such projects. In contrast, today, infrastructure projects have become vehicles, not for securing votes, but for campaign finance, thanks to the PPP framework and the campaign donations it has helped generate for politicians, albeit indirectly. Thus, the mere launching of such projects (regardless of their completion) has become a political end in and of itself.

Infrastructure, Holland indicated, is at the heart of salient questions surrounding democracy, development, and state capacity. It also plays a central role in campaign finance in many developing democracies.  

Conventional wisdom suggests that politicians want to inaugurate infrastructure projects that employ constituents and future voters. If true, politicians should be signing contracts for such projects early in their terms to allow time for job creation before reelection rolls around. But this does not appear to be the case. In Latin American countries where presidents can run for reelection, two-thirds of contracts occur in the last 18 months before an election. 

Holland argued that this trend is rooted in governments’ shifting role in infrastructure. Whereas the state had long led infrastructure projects and hired directly with the goal of job creation, neoliberal reforms in the 1990s made governments rely more heavily on private contractors. Accordingly, the incentive structure facing politicians has changed. They have become less interested in creating jobs for supporters and more interested in securing campaign donations through the process of contracting private sector entities. The partnership with the private sector, moreover, has allowed politicians to hide project costs and shift liabilities to future administrations. The result is an influx of high-cost infrastructure projects with limited utility.

On a broader level, Holland’s findings help explain the widespread shift from political patronage to vote-buying in many countries. The advent of state-private sector partnerships has enabled politicians to raise the cash needed to fund vote-buying machines at a large scale.

How can the problem be mitigated? Much of the answer revolves around “inhibitory institutions.” These institutions could veto unwieldy projects before their commencement, as distinct from traditional mechanisms of horizontal accountability, like audit courts, which can only intervene after the damage is done.

Why have democracies failed in curtailing Xi Jinping’s human rights abuses? And how can they better insulate themselves from Beijing's transnational threats? At a CDDRL research seminar, Sophie Richardson — CDDRL Visiting Scholar and former China Director at Human Rights Watch — presented her research on the Chinese government’s deteriorating human rights record. 

While the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)’s human rights violations are longstanding, Richardson noted, they witnessed a notable escalation under Xi Jinping’s rule. Among them are free speech restrictions, the silencing of civil society, increased surveillance, and forced labor. 

But, as Richardson pointed out, these violations do not stop at China’s borders and have taken on a transnational dimension.

Illustrating the severity and scope of Beijing's human rights abuses, Richardson provided examples of both activists and party members who have been targeted by the CCP. These include an activist who was arrested on the charge of “picking quarrels and causing trouble” and later fell ill and died in detention, as well as the former Chinese ambassador to the US — a loyal party member — who was called back to China and disappeared for some time.

What have democracies done in the face of these abuses? Sanctions, visa bans, and import/export controls are common levers. Some countries — Canada being a prime example — have expanded their refugee status for communities targeted by Chinese authorities.

Notwithstanding these initiatives, Richardson argued, the reach of the CCP’s repression may be much larger than conventionally assumed. Understanding the transnational scope of its repression is key to any effort to devise mechanisms to combat it. 

A prime example is the threat that the CCP continues to pose to democratic elections in other countries. Richardson cited efforts by the CCP to ensure that officials friendly to Xi’s government are elected. Threats of censorship, surveillance, harassment, and physical violence against Chinese students abroad have hampered academic freedom in democracies. Regime actors also threaten the UN human rights system, blocking unwanted scrutiny of the CCP’s human rights transgressions.

High-profile individuals with relatives in China remain vulnerable, as authorities can retaliate against their family members if they voice critical views.

As the scope of Xi’s influence becomes more evident, the question remains: Why have democracies failed to contain it? Richardson believes they are in denial of the overall trajectory, choosing to prioritize other interests at the expense of human rights. Their inability to coordinate in the long term presents an additional challenge. Finally, many democracies have dismissed anti-democratic threats posed by the CCP on grounds that they are idiosyncratic and unworthy of a broader response.

Richardson underscored the importance of greater precision in characterizing the threats posed by the Chinese government to democracy and the imperative to build an international commitment to protecting human rights in China.

How do democracies arise, and what conditions promote their survival? In a CDDRL seminar series talk, Professor of Political Science and Classics Josiah Ober addressed this question, drawing on his latest book, The Civic Bargain: How Democracy Survives (Princeton University Press), co-authored with Brook Manville. The book traces paths to democracy across four case studies: Athens, Rome, Great Britain, and the United States.

Ober defines democracy as collective self-governance by a large, socially diverse, and self-authorized body of citizens. This definition does not require liberalism, allowing for analytical separation between the basic characteristics of a democracy and possible additive attributes. 

Ober argued that democracies today are experiencing what he characterized as a Schmittian moment. They operate under “the friend-enemy relation.” In other words, political actions and motives are reduced to distinguishing “friend” or “enemy.” Under this model, called “political theology” by the German jurist and political theorist Carl Schmitt, partisans assign the mark of “good” or “evil” to differing perspectives. Thus, political contests have become increasingly high stakes. All in all, politics is seen as a zero-sum game.

In stark contrast to the zero-sum state prevalent in many contemporary democracies, Ober argued that democracies all began with a civic bargain. For instance, in his final Constitutional Convention speech, Benjamin Franklin acknowledged that there were several parts of the Constitution of which he did not approve and that he accepted the Constitution since it was the best option offered. 

Democracies, Ober argues, have civic bargaining at their core and follow seven essential conditions. They have no boss, as the scope of the executive is limited. They are able to provide for their country's basic security and welfare. There are defined citizenship and citizen-led institutions. Negotiations are made in good faith, building off civic friendship and the recognition of other actors as part of a common enterprise. Finally, they are all based in a civically educated citizenry. 

In addition to establishing the necessary conditions for a democracy, Ober made a series of observations about their nature across case studies. 

Athens, Rome, and the U.S. all developed into powerful and wealthy societies without turning over authority to an all-powerful ruler, suggesting that keeping security and welfare does not require a guardian. The structures of Athens and Rome also suggest that republics and democracies are compatible and that organized political parties are not essential features of a democracy. 

Democracies, however, require respect for fundamental rights and citizens’ defense of these rights. In many cases, the negotiation of rights comes via political bargains between the elites and non-elite citizens. 

According to Ober, scale is both democracy's greatest challenge and greatest opportunity. It is an opportunity to the extent that it provides a diverse skill set that could increase security and welfare. Scale is a challenge because it brings about diverging interests, thereby making good-faith bargaining more difficult to achieve. 

In distilling both the core features of democracy throughout history and the challenges contemporary democracies face in upholding them, Ober highlights that what is missing today is respectful civic bargaining. Thus, a stronger base of civic education is a central element of any solution.

How does a nation grapple with the history of past atrocities? In a CDDRL research seminar series talk, Stanford Associate Professor of Political Science Vicky Fouka examined how public recognition of collective culpability has affected German national identity. In a new paper, Fouka and co-authors explore the origins of muted public nationalism among German citizens, investigating whether it hails from socialization or stigmatization.

In the shadow of the Nazi regime, post-WWII Germany was forced to contend with its past. The resulting narrative was critical — a self-righteous self-hate. The prevailing view entailed Germany assuming responsibility for WWII and the atrocities committed. This shift occurred in two stages. During the first stage (WWII- 1970), denazification was imposed by the Allied powers, and many Germans perceived it unjust — seeing themselves as victims. However, post-1970, teachings about the Holocaust were introduced in schools, and new generations were socialized to accept a message of responsibility.

Fouka began with two possible explanations for Germany’s muted nationalism. The first was stigmatization, or the idea that people may not be expressing their true views for fear of social sanctions imposed by broader society. The second is socialization. This explanation centers on shared internationalized values, a violation of which generates a strong emotional response on the part of the violator.

To determine which of these theories drives Germany’s weak national spirit, Fouka designed a survey to compare publicly and privately held views. A representative sample of 5,363 respondents was randomly assigned a “private” or “public” condition. Those given the “public” condition were informed that the survey results would be posted to a website, whereas those with the “private” condition were given assurances as to the anonymity of their responses. The team also asked a variety of controversial questions as a baseline — to gauge the difference between private and public preferences.

In the survey itself, Fouka asked respondents a variety of questions on national identity, emotions about German history, attitudes toward German vs. Allied crimes during WWII, and the importance of teaching the holocaust in school. She found that there was no difference in the public and private conditions on national pride — suggesting socialization was the primary driving force behind weak nationalism.

The only statement that seemed to move the needle on falsified preferences was one asserting that the crimes of the German past should be left alone. However, this only occurred in respondents living in West Germany. Additionally, the researchers did find evidence for falsified preferences on national pride, but primarily for Germans socialized in the East but living in the West. As East Germany only shifted their educational rhetoric after German reunification, those socialized in the East but living in the West seemed to censor more toward the West German norm.

This research holds important implications. If there is a divergence between what people feel privately and what they feel like they can express publicly, there can be rapid changes in public opinion and the status quo in response to small changes in information about people’s true preferences. This is especially important with the recent rise of the right-wing populist party, which may provide a platform for the expression of latent preferences.

Why do politicians belonging to religious minorities attain the highest political offices in some countries but not others? Koç University Professor of International Relations Şener Aktürk presented his research on the subject in a CDDRL research seminar series talk. 

A key element in shaping this outcome, Aktürk argued, is the configuration of a given nation’s constitutive conflict, which often takes the form of wars of independence or civil wars.  If the primary adversary in this conflict is of a different religion, he explained, the majority religion will likely be closely associated with national identity. However, in cases where that adversary is of the same religious sect, religious identity will end up becoming less central in the formation of national identity. Accordingly, it will become easier for religious minority politicians to assume leadership afterward.  If the majority religion is nationally institutionalized — which generally coincides with constitutive conflict structured along religious lines – it will likely be difficult for minority politicians to rise through the ranks. 

To illustrate this pattern, Aktürk reviewed the religious affiliation of chief executives across various countries. In the United Kingdom, whose constitutive conflict pitted Protestants against Catholics — and resulted in a Protestant victory — every Prime Minister from 1721 through 2021 was Protestant. Any claimed exceptions converted are a telling sign. Catholic, Jewish, and Muslim religious minorities had their first representatives, or “pioneers,” in the House of Commons by affiliating with the left, demonstrating that left-liberalism was their entry point into politics. 

In Catholic France, where the constitutive conflict was internal (French Revolution), there were 5 Protestant Prime Ministers, with the first one elected within the first 50 years of the Third Republic, when the new republican regime consolidated. A Jewish Prime Minister was reelected three times. The left represented politicians of minority religions, whereas the right represented those of the core group. 

In Hungary, the formative conflict consisted of Catholics fighting against each other. This has allowed Protestant minority leaders to claim they are more nationalistic than their Catholic counterparts, who were presumably forced to pick between their nation and religion. A similar story holds in Italy, the first country to have a Jewish Prime Minister. 

Germany is the most unique case, as it experienced a change in constitutive conflict. Following the Franco-Prussian War, Germany was majority Protestant, with state persecution of the Catholic minority. However, a bloodier and more traumatic constitutive conflict replaced the first one — the Holocaust and World War II. Under Hitler, who was of Austrian Catholic origin, German nationalism ceased to be a Protestant-led movement.

How did the adoption of civil service reform in the United States affect reelection rates of legislators? In a CDDRL research seminar series talk, Miriam Golden — the Peter Mair Chair in Comparative Politics at the European University Institute and CDDRL visiting scholar — argued that a decline in patronage appointments to state bureaucracies due to civil service legislation increased reelection rates in state legislatures. 

Civil service legislation in the United States began with the federal Pendleton Act in 1883 and continued with a series of staggered reforms at the state level. These reforms mandated that political appointments be made on the basis of merit, thereby limiting the ability of party machines to make patronage appointments to the bureaucracy. By 1987, every state (except for Texas) had adopted these measures. Golden’s work investigates the spillover effects of this legislation on the careers of politicians. 

The phenomenon of the “amateur politician” was prevalent for a good part of US history, especially at the state level. Operating under a patronage system, politicians did not face a strong incentive to seek reelection. However, following the introduction of civil service legislation, parties could no longer rotate their own cadre of loyalists through appointed and elected state offices. As such, the incentive for politicians to seek reelection increased, creating a more professional class of legislators concerned with elevating their own performance in office. 

This theory is consistent with Golden’s analysis of state legislator data covering the period between 1900 and 2016. Using a series of difference in difference estimators, Golden explored the effect of staggered reforms on reelection rates across all 50 state legislatures. Her analysis shows that the said reforms are associated with higher reelection rates. While reelection rates had already begun trending upward over the course of the 20th century, civil service reform coincided with the largest single surge in reelection rates yet observed.  

Golden found that across all the states under study, the rate of legislators seeking reelection and reelection rates track together. The data also suggests that individuals who were in office before the introduction of civil service reforms were driven out at slightly higher rates than those who served after. The trend is consistent with the idea that pre-reform legislators were replaced by a more professional class of politicians.