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Christian Democratic actors and thinkers have been at the forefront of many of the twentieth century's key political battles - from the construction of the international human rights regime, through the process of European integration and the creation of postwar welfare regimes, to Latin American development policies during the Cold War. Yet their core ideas remain largely unknown, especially in the English-speaking world. Combining conceptual and historical approaches, Carlo Invernizzi Accetti traces the development of this ideology in the thought and writings of some of its key intellectual and political exponents, from the mid-nineteenth century to the present day. In so doing he sheds light on a number of important contemporary issues, from the question of the appropriate place of religion in presumptively 'secular' liberal-democratic regimes, to the normative resources available for building a political response to the recent rise of far-right populism.
This article explores whether immigration plays a role in determining national welfare state effort in 16 European countries. It examines the relationship between stocks of migrants, the foreign-born population, on two different indicators of welfare state effort – social welfare spending as a percentage of gross domestic product (GDP) and a welfare generosity index. The nexus between immigration and welfare is a controversial and highly sensitive political issue, and as such it typically divides opinion. Traditionally, it has been argued that increases in immigration create pressures for governments to reduce levels of social welfare provision. By building on theories and results from the political economy literature, this article provides further evidence on the debate through using a fresh approach to operationalize welfare state effort. The empirical results show that the foreign-born population has a positive and statistically significant relationship with social welfare spending and no statistically significant association with the welfare generosity index. The findings provide no evidence to support the hypothesis that the higher levels of immigration lead to reduced levels of social welfare provision. On the contrary, these findings lend support to the view that increasing immigration leads to welfare state expansion rather than retrenchment, and that European welfare states remain resilient in the face of the globalization of migration.
Public spending arguably increases with the number of parties in government as each party seeks to secure benefits to its target groups. In this study, two factors that affect the budgetary consequences of multiparty government are identified. The first is the distribution of a priori voting power. An uneven distribution of voting power implies that all government parties are not expected to be equally successful in budgetary negotiations. The second is the degree of impartiality of the public sector. If the public sector is characterized by corruption and other forms of partiality, distributive issues can be expected to gain importance in representative politics. An analysis of data from 30 European countries suggests that changes in the number of government parties are associated with changes in public spending in cases where equally powerful parties are in government and the public sector is relatively partial.
Has the financial crisis influenced taxes on the rich? In this article, I argue that crisis countries have raised income tax progressivity because of fiscal fairness considerations. I test this claim by analysing a new data set on top marginal personal income tax (PIT) rates for 122 countries from 2006 to 2014, applying matching methods and a difference-in-differences design. The results show that countries with a financial crisis have increased top PIT rates by 4 percentage points. Furthermore, rising public debt only leads to higher top PIT rates when it is crisis-induced. These findings demonstrate that notions of fiscal fairness can still shape progressive taxation in the 21st century.
In early May, as the deputies from all three Estates came to Versailles for the scheduled opening of the Estates General they carried with them cahiers enjoining them to reform the constitution in broadly similar ways. One major matter that divided them was the question of how the deputies would meet and vote. Deputies from the Third Estate came determined to pursue common meetings of the three orders with matters decided by a vote by head. Noble and Clerical deputies were split on the issue, but a majority in both orders carried cahiers encouraging or requiring them to seek separate meetings and a vote by order. The electoral regulations sent out by the king in January had not settled which form would prevail. From the very first meeting of the Estates General, the orders entered into a prolonged stalemate as the Third Estate refused to conduct business without first verifying all deputy credentials in common in the main meeting hall and the Nobles insisted that credentials be verified separately by each order.
27 June had marked a triumph for those who supported a union of the orders. The stalemate finally broken, it was time to write a constitution and help the king repair his finances. Then, on 30 June, at the first full meeting of the united orders, scores of deputies protested against the activities of the National Assembly. To a man these deputies, all from the privileged orders, claimed that instructions from their constituents prohibited them meeting in common with the other orders or accepting a vote by head. They based their protests on the mandates they had received from their electors. Almost all of the deputies of 1789 had sworn an oath upon receiving the cahier of his electoral district to faithfully present the grievances contained within. In most cases, they had sworn an oath to obey certain commands their electors made on pain of being, at least in theory, disowned as a representative. This was the “binding” or “imperative” mandate.
Here we examine the final steps the deputies elected to the Estates General of 1789 took to transform that traditional body into a national constituent assembly. We will examine three steps in detail, again relying on a broad array of sources to show how the decisions reached were shaped by the interplay between different developing political groups within the Assembly. First, as the summer of 1789 came to an end, the deputies sought to establish their power to craft France’s new constitution as they saw best, guided by the wishes of their constituents, not by the will of the king. By the middle of September, the king had yet to accept the August decrees or the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen. From 14 to 21 September, the deputies debated how to ensure that the king would accept the decrees without modification. As part of this discussion, the deputies broached the question of whether or not the king had the right to request changes to the constitution they were writing. They were careful not to cause unnecessary conflict between the king and the Assembly.
The next major question the deputies faced was that of how to balance the powers of the legislative and executive offices in the new constitution. There were no self-evident answers to the questions of how powerful the legislature ought to be in relation to the king, or what role the broader public would have in legislative affairs. When Clermont-Tonnerre presented a report summarizing the content of the cahiers on 27 July, speaking on behalf of the Constitutional Committee, he noted that all of the cahiers demanded the “regeneration of the French Empire [l’Empire français],” but that they disagreed as to whether this regeneration required a new constitution or a simple reform of a few abuses.1 This lack of uniformity meant that the deputies could not simply derive the constitution directly from the cahiers. They would have to decide what the new constitution would be like. In addition, they faced widespread popular violence, both in Paris and in the provinces.
The decree putting the goods of the Church at the disposal of the nation was a major act with far-reaching implications. As Barère announced in his newspaper, Le Point du jour, on 2 November the Assembly had definitively established itself as a tribunal before which all the institutions of society would be judged.1 It had become a truly constituent body, one that could rid France of useless or pernicious institutions and establish those necessary for the public good. The political struggles of summer 1789 had determined who would lead the effort to reform France. The first phase had been a struggle between the Third Estate and conservatives in the Noble and Clerical orders over who would lead the Estates General. The second phase was the struggle between the king and the National Assembly to see who would establish the new constitutional order. Louis XVI had failed to see through essential reforms under his leadership.
One of the most remarkable features of the early Revolution was the absence of direct communication between the Third Estate and Louis XVI. The king had given no instructions about how to regulate communication between himself and the orders. The matter devolved to the Keeper of the Seals, Charles Louis François de Paule de Barentin, who took it upon himself to act as the supervisor for everything related to the Estates General. He became the conduit through which communication between the orders and Louis passed. But Barentin was deeply hostile to the pretensions of the Third Estate, going back at least as far as the time of the Result of the King’s Council of State of 1788. Until mid July, Barentin managed communications to the benefit of the Noble order, generally refusing to find times for members of the Third Estate to meet with the king. During the stalemate, the deputies of the Third Estate had only been given one meeting with Louis and it was at the worst time possible, coming two days after the death of the king’s oldest son.
The French Revolution (1789–99) marked the beginning of modern politics. For the first time, a major European state moved from traditional monarchical rule to a more democratic, participatory political system, creating its own institutions as it went. The French Revolution erupted from a stalemate that had developed between the French Crown and traditional political and social elites over how to reform the way in which the state financed itself. The old system could not keep up with the demands placed on it by generations of war. It was hamstrung by the woefully unfair imposition and inefficient collection of taxes. By the time Louis XVI (r. 1774–92) asked his subjects for assistance and advice in the winter of 1787, the system was already under considerable strain. But the French elites refused to accept the plan proposed by their king without being granted a large and permanent role in the kingdom’s political system. The king would not give it to them.
The forms of political representation in France before 1789 were nothing like political representation in our modern sense of the term. There were no elected representative bodies at the national level and the provinces had systems that varied greatly. The pays d’états had provincial estates that had some elective elements, but the pays d’élection had no province-wide representative bodies at all. The Catholic Church had its own assembly, but this assembly did not represent the church to the king, as the king was nominally its leader. There were only three political bodies that had any pretension to being “representative” and none functioned in a way that we moderns would recognize as representative government. First and foremost was the king himself. Though he was not elected or accountable in any way to those he represented, he did function as a symbol of France and it was only through the king that there was any unity among the diverse peoples, provinces and corporations that made up the kingdom.
The French Revolution marks the beginning of modern politics. Using a diverse range of sources, Robert H. Blackman reconstructs key constitutional debates, from the initial convocation of the Estates General in Versailles in May 1789, to the National Assembly placing the wealth of the Catholic Church at the disposal of the nation that November, revealing their nuances through close readings of participant and witness accounts. This comprehensive and accessible study analyses the most important debates and events through which the French National Assembly became a sovereign body, and explores the process by which the massive political transformation of the French Revolution took place. Blackman's narrative-driven approach creates a new path through the complex politics of the early French Revolution, mapping the changes that took place and revealing how a new political order was created during the chaotic first months of the Revolution.