About a decade after India began liberalising its economy, arguments over the best pathway to plan for emerged. Kerala acquired a new significance in this discourse. Did the state have lessons for India at large? The most influential commentators on India's record of human development, Jean Drèze and Amartya Sen, cited the strides in human development, implying that India's policymakers needed to learn lessons from what could be done with limited state resources. A competing view, of which Jagdish Bhagwati was a forceful proponent, said that the accent on human development risked devaluing economic growth. Growth needed competitive markets, which would strengthen the state's finances and sustain the ability to fund welfare and public goods. In this second argument, Kerala was cited as a fiscally unsustainable model. ‘The much-advertised model of alternative development, in the Indian state of Kerala,’ Bhagwati said in a 2004 lecture, ‘with its major emphasis on education and health and only minor attention to growth, had … run into difficulties….’

How sound were these authors in reading the state's history? Not very, one would think. Bhagwati expressed his pessimistic views even as economic growth had begun to surge. His intuition that the model was unsustainable was probably correct but not testable. Drèze and Sen, writing in 2013, did casually acknowledge that economic growth revived and then attributed it to ‘Kerala's focus on elementary education and other basic capabilities’, not going into the details of how these two things were related. Their discussion of the state's recent history almost totally overlooked the most significant force of transformation, a market-driven one: the export of labour. In short, the market-versus-state choices in the 2000s debate were obsolete tools for a historical analysis of the state.

When discussing that history, what should we be looking at? Chronologically, the first major transformation that marked the state out in India was the positive achievements in education and healthcare, which began in the nineteenth century. The second major transition was the declining average fertility and population growth rates in the middle decades of the twentieth century. Since these topics are much discussed, we will be brief and build on a few major works on the subjects.

This chapter summarises the main findings of the book and the trajectory of republican liberty as the central element of the competition–democracy nexus. The chapter also explores proposals for how the competition–democracy can be revived to allow competition law to address the contemporary challenges of industry concentration and the rise of corporate power. The chapter discusses different avenues towards a competition–democracy nexus 4.0 that would realign competition law with the parameters of republican antitrust. The chapter also casts light on the hard policy choices one such reform would involve.

This chapter introduces the idea of a competition–democracy nexus as the object of inquiry of the book and traces its intellectual trajectory across six centuries of legal, economic, and political thought. It shows how early manifestations of the idea of a competition–democracy nexus (competition–democracy nexus 1.0) took shape in the late 16th and early 17th century with the critique of monopoly by Thomas More, the early common lawyers and the English Leveller movement. It also recounts how early liberal thinkers, most notably Adam Smith, James Steuart and Montesquieu, celebrated the advent of competitive markets as a driving-force behind the transformation of the feudal order into a republican society. The chapter also analyses how the idea of a competition–democracy nexus (competition–democracy nexus 2.0) lay at the origin of US antitrust law and had an important bearing on various antitrust paradigms until the 1970s. The chapter further describes the emergence of the idea of a competition–democracy nexus as the central tenet of the German Ordoliberal School before and during the Second World War and its influence on the early days of EU competition law (competition–democracy nexus 3.0).

This chapter tests the argument about new parties’ adoption of mobilization strategies in a context where they have limited access to organizational allies. Whereas most of the organizational allies discussed in Chapters 3 and 4 are major (often nationally organized) peak associations, MORENA could only rely on smaller, locally focused organizations. As this chapter shows, despite the different organizational structures, the shared experience of moments of solidarity also shaped whether party–organization ties later became institutionalized in this case; as a result, MORENA could consistently rely on organizationally mediated appeals. However, I find that the difference in the degree or level of organizational aggregation – aggregated/peak versus local organization – had important implications for the resulting party structures.

This chapter examines the specific features that made US antitrust and EU competition law particularly conducive to a republican understanding of economic liberty and translated the structural goal of preserving a polycentric market structure into concrete competition policy. It sheds light on how the ideal of republican liberty and the idea of a competition–democracy nexus were given shape through a specific legal modus operandi, such as the structure of legal commands, standards of assessments, and institutional principles. The chapter identifies the (i) extensive use of broadly construed rule-like presumptions of anticompetitiveness, a (ii) possibilist standard of harm, and (iii) a precautionary error–cost framework erring in the case of doubt on the side of over-deterrence (type I errors) as the main channels of republican antitrust in the US and EU. These legal filters can be considered the main parameters or policy levers of a distinctive republican approach towards antitrust law and policy.

For years now, Kerala has had the distinction of being ruled by a communist-partyled coalition. The communist alliance won the first state assembly elections in 1957, lost in 1960, returned to power, and ruled the state in 1967–70 (first under E.M.S. Namboothiripad till 1969 and then under C. Achuthamenon), 1970–77, 1978–79 1980–81, 1987–91, 1996–2001, 2006– 11 and since 2016. In between, there were years when the state was under President's Rule, that is, the federal government governed it. The composition of the left coalition changed. It was never a body consisting of only the ideologically left parties: the Muslim League and some Christian factions allied with the communists. However, the main constituents of the coalition were the Communist Party of India (CPI) until 1964 and the CPI (Marxist), or CPI(M), after the CPI split into two parties.

In no other state of India, except West Bengal (and later Tripura), did the CPI or CPI(M) command a popular support base large enough to win elections. In common with West Bengal, tenants and agricultural labourers in these acutely land-scarce regions formed the main support base for the party. The communists won elections on the promise of land reforms. There was another historic factor behind their popularity. Caste equality movements coalesced around the leftist movement. Because of their commitment to the rural and land-dependent poor, the left delivered land reforms in Kerala and West Bengal in the 1970s. And in both states, ruling left parties indirectly drove private capital out of trade and industry. Ideological differences within the Communist Party of India led to a split in 1964. A faction led by S.A. Dange tended to have cooperation with the Indian National Congress, which then had a good relationship with the Soviet Union. That and the debates on National Bourgeoisie led to the split.

This is not a paradox. The paradox was that from the 1990s, if not earlier, the left quietly turned friendly towards private capital. By then, agriculture was in retreat, the old base of the left was not significant anymore, and the state was rapidly falling behind India in economic growth (and investment rates).

The introduction chapter lays the groundwork for understanding the intricate relationship between Congress and information acquisition, particularly through committee hearings and witness testimonies. Highlighting the pivotal role of information in shaping legislative decisions, the chapter probes into the challenges faced by Congress in navigating the complex landscape of external expertise within a politically charged environment. The chapter delves into the critical questions driving the book’s exploration: How does Congress acquire information, and what factors influence the selection and content of information provided by external witnesses? It introduces the overarching themes of partisan incentives, institutional conditions, and the strategic nature of information acquisition, aiming to dissect their impact on legislative processes. By providing a comprehensive overview of the book’s scope, methodology, and key theoretical insights, the introduction sets the tone for a deep dive into the dynamics of congressional information-seeking behavior.

This chapter introduces the conceptual claim of this book that the idea of a competition-democracy nexus is grounded in a normative commitment to a republican conception of economic liberty as non-domination originating in ancient Roman thought. The chapter first shows how the existing ‘special interest capture’ and ‘conventional liberty’ accounts fail to make sense of the competition–democracy nexus. It then explores the republican conception of liberty as non-domination as an alternative explanation of the idea of a competition–democracy nexus. It shows that this republican understanding of economic liberty is the only explanatory variable that can explain why competition enhances and the concentration of economic power undermines democracy and why competition law is the right tool to address this problem.

This chapter discusses the study’s main findings and their broader theoretical implications for how we understand the role of parties and partisanship in democratic accountability and representation. It contributes to ongoing debates about the various functions that parties serve, the changing relationship between parties and voters, and the development of partisanship in new democracies. The chapter concludes by illustrating the theory’s relevance and plausibility in other new democracies as well as for new parties in more established democracies.

In this chapter, we examine how the politics of interbranch relations between the legislature and the bureaucracy affect the invitation of bureaucratic witnesses to hearings and how Congress can use hearings to control executive branch influence. We focus on the presence of divided government – when the party controlling Congress is not the party that controls the White House. We find that during periods of divided government, committees invited relatively fewer bureaucrats to testify; instead, they invited relatively more witnesses from think tanks, universities, and within Congress itself. This result is particularly pronounced when hearings were held on issues that the president prioritized. These findings are substantively important, especially given how the existing literature has characterized bureaucrats’ advantages in information and expertise in policy implementation vis-à-vis Congress. We provide evidence that under divided government, committees limited the amount of expert information from the executive branch that could be favorable to a president from the opposing party and instead welcomed outsiders to compensate for the relative loss of information from bureaucrats.

This chapter empirically tests the theory about the micro-foundations of electoral support for new parties. It analyzes how individual voters respond to appeals based on different mobilization strategies in discrete choice experiments conducted in Bolivia and Ecuador. These experiments present voters with campaign posters that closely resemble real-world posters; the results illustrate that organizational endorsements are very effective at mobilizing electoral support, especially for new parties. Such endorsements are also effective across several different types of organizations and can sway organization members as well as people in their wider social networks. Furthermore, endorsements can influence voters even when they provide no direct information about policy platforms; unlike organization members, sympathetic nonmembers do not follow the endorsements. It also shows that endorsements can even overcome ethnic cleavages and foster electoral support when candidates’ policy positions are at odds with voters’ preferences.