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Altiero Spinelli is probably the best-known representative of that particular type of apodictic federalism which flowered for some years after the end of World War II, and which is well expressed by the phrase then popular among federalists: Europe must federate or perish. For the Italian Spinelli and his many followers in continental Europe, it was impossible to rebuild a democratic, prosperous, and powerful Europe starting with the nation states. Only a strong federation could solve the great problems of the post-war period: the re-establishment of democratic regimes; the many dramatic economic and social issues facing the continent; the German question; the security and autonomy of Europe with respect to both the United States and the Soviet Union. The establishment of a federal super-state, Spinelli argued (cited in Paolini 1988: 12 and passim), would have to precede the political and economic reconstruction of the member states, the former being the necessary foundation of the latter. In turn, the European federation would open the way to a world federation. It is of some interest that the majority of the thirty or so federalist movements existing at the time in Europe also claimed to be working towards a world federation. The idea of an eventual world government was more than an exercise in utopian thinking; it was needed in order to meet the telling argument that a purely European federation would simply reproduce, on a larger scale, the geopolitical ambitions and aggressive tendencies of the traditional nation states.
A politically integrated Europe, a continent finally united in spite of its diversity and of the internecine wars of the past, was – and continues to be – an elitist project. Unless this point is clearly understood and constantly kept in mind, the development of European integration – from the founding treaties in the 1950s to the Irish No to the Lisbon Treaty in 2008, only three years after the French and Dutch rejections of the Constitutional Treaty – remains largely unintelligible. Of course all key ideas of modern history, from popular sovereignty to the ideas of nation, nation state, and citizenship, were initially advanced by intellectual and political elites – were ‘invented’, in the terminology used by Edmund Morgan in his classic study of the rise of popular sovereignty in England and America. Thus, James Madison's ‘invention’ of an American People distinct from, and superior to, the peoples of the thirteen former colonies turned out to be a decisive move in the struggle to replace the Articles of Confederation by a strong federal constitution. To quote Morgan: ‘As the English House of Commons in the 1640s had invented a sovereign people to overcome a sovereign king, Madison was inventing a sovereign American people to overcome the sovereign states. It was not one of those inventions for which the world was unprepared, but an invention crying out for realization’ (1988: 267). Such timely conceptual inventions prove their vitality by their ability to mobilize the people and push them to political action.
Intended and anticipated outcomes of purposive action are always, in the nature of the case, relatively desirable to the actor, though they may seem objectively negative to an outside observer. In any case, they pose few questions to social theory. In contrast, unintended consequences, being unplanned, unexpected results of action orientated towards some goal, become a phenomenon demanding a social-scientific explanation. In fact, this phenomenon has attracted the attention of outstanding political and social thinkers from Machiavelli and Vico to Marx, Pareto, Max Weber, and, more recently, Hayek, and Popper. As Robert Merton (1949) has pointed out, however, the diversity of context and variety of terms by which this phenomenon has been known in the past have tended to obscure its generality. In the eighteenth century Adam Smith and other Scottish thinkers such as David Hume, Adam Ferguson, and Dugald Stewart succeeded in building up a social theory that made unintended, or unforeseen, consequences of purposive human action its central object (Schneider 1967). The theory was used to analyse the existence and functioning of institutions, such as governments, and of social aggregates, such as states or social classes. Adam Smith's ‘invisible hand’, by which ‘man is led to promote an end which was no part of his intention’, is the best-known application of the Scottish approach.
The social-scientific relevance of unintended consequences of purposive action has been further demonstrated by such twentieth-century theorists as Friedrich Hayek and Karl Popper.
The economic and political conditions that have led to the rise of radical right parties exist in similar form and intensity all over Europe. Yet, radical right parties have only been successful in a few countries. The Republikaner party's less than 2% of the vote is much lower than the National Front's high of 15% and the Freedom Party's 27% of the vote in national legislative elections. Why do such a small percentage of voters choose the radical right in Germany? Why is the radical right winning more seats in Austria than in France and Germany? The main argument in this book is that radical right parties will have difficulty attracting voters and winning seats in electoral systems that encourage strategic voting and/or strategic coordination by the mainstream parties. The analysis demonstrates that electoral systems and party strategy play a key role in the success of the radical right.
After the collapse of the European Defence Community in 1954, and the consequent abortion of the pre-federal EPC, most federalists chose to continue the struggle, so to speak, underground. They pursued political integration under the guise of economic integration – the strategy that came to be known as the Monnet method, or, more descriptively, as the method of integration by stealth. I use the label ‘cryptofederalism’ to denote a type of federalist revisionism characterized by this roundabout approach to the political integration of Europe. The approach of the revisionists is obviously different from the strategy of the orthodox, or ‘Hamiltonian’, federalists, who openly worked for a constitution dividing the powers of government between a federal Europe and its member states, with democratic institutions at each level, and with federal powers in all fields of common interest, including foreign affairs, security, and defence.
In the decade following the end of World War II, federalism, although always an elite movement, had been a non-negligible factor in European politics, especially in Germany, Italy, and the Netherlands. Already by the mid-1950s, however, the federalist vision had lost its credibility and whatever popularity it had enjoyed for a few years after the end of World War II. The underlying reason for the loss of credibility and public support has been mentioned in the preceding chapter: all the analyses and predictions inspired by that vision had been refuted by history. The rise of cryptofederalism can only be understood against this background of wishful conjectures and factual refutations. In this respect there are some suggestive analogies between the federalist revisionism of the 1950s and the Marxist revisionism of the 1890s.
As already mentioned, a small but influential body of elite opinion sees not only economic, but also political integration as steps towards the ultimate goal of a ‘Social Europe’ – just as the national market and the liberal state of the nineteenth century are thought to have prepared the ground for the modern welfare state. Only a strong social dimension, it is held, can legitimate the process of European integration, and at the same time rescue the national welfare state threatened by globalization. The addition of an enveloping social dimension to the integration process, the champions of Social Europe assert, would enjoy widespread popular support. After the rejection of the Constitutional Treaty, for example, Belgian prime minister Guy Verhofstadt claimed that the French and Dutch voters had opposed the treaty, not because it was too ambitious, but rather because it was not sufficiently ambitious: it did not go far enough in the direction of a supranational welfare state. Members of the intelligentsia such as Juergen Habermas explained the failure of the draft Constitution primarily as an indication of the opposition of the voters to the neo-liberal bias of the document, and an expression of popular demand for a more welfare-orientated Union (see chapter 3). Habermas wrote: ‘If something can be deduced with certainty from the [French and Dutch] vote, it is this: that not all western nations are willing to accept the social and cultural costs of welfare inequality, costs which the neo-liberals would like to impose on them in the name of accelerated economic growth’ (2005: 3).
In recent years there has been growing interest and a related literature on hybrid regimes. Is there a good definition of such an institutional arrangement? Are there actually sets of stabilized, political institutions that can be labelled in this way? Is it possible that within the widespread process of democracy diffusion these are only ‘transitional’ regimes and the most suitable distinction is still the old one, suggested by Linz and traditionally accepted, between democracy and authoritarianism? This article addresses and responds to these questions by pinpointing the pertinent analytic dimensions, starting with definitions of ‘regime’, ‘authoritarianism’, and ‘democracy’; by defining what a ‘hybrid regime’ is; by trying to answer the key question posed in the title; by disentangling the cases of proper hybrid regimes from the cases of transitional phases; and by proposing a typology of hybrid regimes. Some of the main findings and conclusions refer to the lack of institutions capable of performing their functions as well as the key elements for achieving possible changes towards democracy.
To be at the same time effective and liberal, governments must normally be able to count on voluntary compliance – which, in turn, depends on the support of socially shared legitimacy beliefs. In Western constitutional democracies, such beliefs are derived from the distinct, but coexistent traditions of ‘republican’ and ‘liberal’ political philosophy. Judged by these criteria, the European Union – when considered by itself – appears as a thoroughly liberal polity which, however, lacks all republican credentials. But this view (which seems to structure the debates about the ‘European democratic deficit’) ignores the multilevel nature of the European polity, where the compliance of citizens is requested, and needs to be legitimated, by member states, whereas the Union appears as a ‘government of governments’, which is entirely dependent on the voluntary compliance of its member states. What matters primarily, therefore, is the compliance–legitimacy relationship between the Union and its member states – which, however, is normatively constrained by the basic compliance–legitimacy relationship between member governments and their constituents. Given the high consensus requirements of European legislation, member governments could, and should, be able to assume political responsibility for European policies in which they had a voice, and to justify them in ‘communicative discourses’ in the national public space. That is not necessarily so for ‘non-political’ policy choices imposed by the European Court of Justice (ECJ). By enforcing its ‘liberal’ programme of liberalization and deregulation, the ECJ may presently be undermining the ‘republican’ bases of member-state legitimacy. Where that is the case, open non-compliance is a present danger, and political controls of judicial legislation may be called for.
Political science is the product of modernity and the nation-state. A dominant tradition within it has striven for a positivistic and universal form of understanding, based on the individual actor. Developments in recent years have questioned our understanding of modernity, universalism, science, and the nation-state. Political science has responded in two ways: by reinforcing the positivist approach, or by adopting various forms of intepretivism. This has created an artificial division within the discipline. Political scientists can overcome this artificial divide by looking outside the discipline. There are promising developments in this direction but these are inhibited by trying to confine them within the dominant positivist mode. They have also responded by borrowing from neighbouring disciplines, but in doing so, they have too often appropriated concepts in simplified form or coined empty concepts. They need to take neighbouring disciplines more seriously and work across disciplinary boundaries. A pluralistic approach is possible, which neither seeks a grand synthesis of all the social sciences, nor sees them as independent and self-standing, but which encourages cross-fertilization and combinations of approaches. The existence of distinct European national and disciplinary traditions, far from being an obstacle to the development of the discipline, gives European political scientists an advantage.
Political science research on Europeanization has focused too little on the domestic legal-constitutional implications of European legal integration. We address this relative neglect, identifying two models of the impact of European law on domestic judicial discourses and testing them against evidence on the invocation of three EU law concepts within English courts. Contrary to a statist model, which expects judicial discourses to correspond closely with direct importations of European law through the preliminary reference procedure, we find stronger support for an indigenization model in which courts gradually domesticate previously alien concepts. These domesticating discourses offer new insights into domestic political and constitutional orders in the context of European and international legalization.
This article discusses what implications the European Union’s (EU’s) multilevel structure has for its democratic legitimacy. It identifies three channels of democratic input in the EU – the European Parliament, national democratic processes influencing the Council of Ministers, and civil society participation in consultation procedures of the European Commission – and assesses them on the basis of a comprehensive set of criteria. The evaluation shows that the democratization of the EU faces three interlinked dilemmas. Most fundamentally, there is an incongruence in territorial scope between the issues requiring democratic control (increasingly European if not global) and the imagined communities necessary for the functioning of democratic procedures (primarily national). This ‘congruence dilemma’ intensifies contradictions between participation and deliberation, as well as between effectiveness and accountability in EU decision-making. Grand reforms that would solve these dilemmas once and for all are unlikely to be successful, but changes in the interplay of the three democratic channels – such as the disentanglement of political competencies, the formalization of inter-channel conciliation procedures, and the introduction of directly democratic mechanisms – promise to mitigate their negative effects.
This article introduces the concept of the ‘Multilevel Parliamentary Field’ as a means for analysing the structure of democratic representation in the European Union (EU). This concept is warranted for several reasons. First, the multilevel configuration that makes up the EU contains two channels of democratic representation: one directly through the European Parliament, the other indirectly through the national parliaments and governments. These two channels are likely to persist side by side; hence, both the European and the national parliaments can claim to represent ‘the people’ in EU decision-making. Second, this structure of representation is in many respects without precedent; it does not fit established concepts of democratic representation derived from the nation-state or from international relations, such as a federal two-channel system or a parliamentary network. Third, the representative bodies in the EU are interlinked, also across levels. Up until now, no proper conceptual apparatus has been devised that can capture the distinctive traits of this EU multilevel representative system, and help to assess its democratic quality. The concept of the Multilevel Parliamentary Field fills both these tasks. It serves as a heuristic device to integrate the empirical analysis of the different forms of democratic representation in the EU’s multilevel system, and it provides new angles for analysing the democratic challenges that this system faces.
Community law, that is, the law of the supranational organisation European Community, consists of so-called primary and secondary law. The concept of primary law relates to law made by the Member States via their international law treatymaking powers. Therefore, it comprises the initial 1957 Treaty of Rome plus various treaty amendments, such as the SEA, the Maastricht, Amsterdam and Nice Treaties, as well as the accession treaties. Secondary law, on the other hand, refers to law made by the Community's institutions based on the authorisation contained in the Treaties (the primary law), such as regulations, directives and decisions, as well as soft-law instruments such as recommendations and opinions.
Article 249 TEC briefly characterises the legal quality of these legislative instruments:
In order to carry out their task and in accordance with the provisions of this Treaty, the European Parliament acting jointly with the Council, the Council and the Commission shall make regulations and issue directives, take decisions, make recommendations or deliver opinions.
A regulation shall have general application. It shall be binding in its entirety and directly applicable in all Member States.
A directive shall be binding, as to the result to be achieved, upon each Member State to which it is addressed, but shall leave to the national authorities the choice of form and methods. […]
The organisational structure of the EU/EC may, with all its complexity, seem Byzantine to outsiders. However, once the basic outline and the fundamental difference between the intergovernmental EU and the supranational EC are understood, it will become easier to find one's way. In particular, with regard to the EC, one will recognise an interesting mix between the traditional traits of an international organisation and those of a state-like entity with typical separation-of-powers issues.
According to Article 7 of the Treaty Establishing the European Community (TEC), the EC possesses five ‘principal institutions’: the Council; the Commission; the European Parliament; the Court of Auditors; and the European Court of Justice. In addition, a number of other advisory institutions, such as the European Economic and Social Committee or the Committee of the Regions, serve the ‘organisation’ EC. While the ‘institutional triangle’, consisting of the Council, Commission and Parliament and largely responsible for the Community's legislation, will be described in some detail in this chapter, the Community courts, the European Court of Justice, the Court of First Instance as well as the new Civil Service Tribunal, will be explained in chapter 5 (Judicial Control within the Community).
This section aims at explaining the composition and internal decision making of the Community institutions, while their interaction in the context of European legislation will be analysed in chapter 3 (The Making of Community Law).
In a technical sense, EC competition policy covers what is known in many countries as cartel law or, as in the United States, ‘anti-trust law’. The latter term was adopted because in the late nineteenth century, when anti-trust law was ‘invented’, most American cartels were established in the form of trusts. EC competition law rests on the triad of a cartel ban contained in Article 81 TEC, a prohibition on market abuse in Article 82 TEC and merger control legislation. All three branches of EC competition law are handled by DG IV, now DG Competition, as the Directorate-General for Competition supporting the responsible Commissioner for Competition is known.
In a broader sense, other Community law also contributes to the overall aim of creating conditions for fair competition within the Common Market, these include:
(1) treaty provisions on free movement as a framework prohibiting mainly public restrictions on the free circulation of goods and services, such as duties and quantitative restrictions and their equivalent counterparts;
(2) special competition rules for public undertakings in Article 86 TEC; and
(3) the identification and justification or elimination of subsidies provided for in the state aid provisions of Articles 87–89 TEC.
What are the economic rationales for the EC's emphasis on competition policy?
As the American debate about the wisdom of anti-trust policies demonstrates, there is still controversy over the need to intervene in the free play of market forces in order to maintain fair competition.