Impartiality as a property of government is central to many of the major constitutional concerns of liberal democracy. This essay tersely considers the nature and implications of impartiality in three main areas: the rule of law; the distinction between the right and the good; and freedom of speech. Because of constraints of space, each of the discussions in this paper is no more than a sketch of the complex matters that are at issue in debates over impartiality.

This chapter explores the various ways that liberal internationalism has sought to use international institutions to build cooperative systems of order. I start by outlining liberal internationalism’s tradition of thinking about institutions and peaceful change. Liberalism and liberal internationalism are defined by their deep assumptions about modernity, development, and progress as well as by their focus on the challenges of adapting liberal democracy and international order to modernization and rising interdependence. After this, I turn to five system-structural “problems” that liberal internationalism has grappled with over the past two centuries. These are the problems of anarchy, hierarchy, interdependence, liberal openness, and geopolitical vulnerability. Across millennia, the two dominant forms of international order have been either anarchy or hierarchy. Liberal internationalism has been deeply entangled with both types of order. Yet, despite this, its overall ideas and projects have been oriented toward creating a “third way” between anarchy and hierarchy. In all these pursuits, liberals have used institutions as tools and ordering arrangements to solve problems and promote peaceful change.

In this book, I examined how public authorities’ reliance on algorithmic regulation can affect the rule of law and erode its protective role. I conceptualised this threat as algorithmic rule by law and evaluated the EU legal framework’s safeguards to counter it. In this chapter, I summarise my findings, conclude that this threat is insufficiently addressed (Section 6.1) and provide a number of recommendations (Section 6.2). Finally, I offer some closing remarks (Section 6.3). Algorithmic regulation promises simplicity and a route to avoid the complex tensions of legal rules that are continuously open to multiple interpretations. Yet the same promise also threatens liberal democracy today, as illiberal and authoritarian tendencies seek to eliminate plurality in favour of simplicity. The threat of algorithmic rule by law is hence the same that also threatens liberal democracy: the elimination of normative tensions by essentialising a single view. The antidote is hence to accept not only the normative tensions that are inherent in law but also the tensions inherent in a pluralistic society. We should not essentialise the law’s interpretation, but embrace its normative complexity.

Recent years have witnessed the rise of a range of authoritarian populist, illiberal, far-right, nativist, and extremist parties. We have seen democratic structures threatened or incrementally dismantled through the subversion of an established democratic party by an outsider or ascendance of the extremist wing of a right-wing party. Parties and party leaders occupying an ill-defined space on the political spectrum today generally present a much greater threat to democratic governance than overtly antidemocratic fringe outfits. The ambiguity of such parties, their growing size, their entry into government, the subversion of “good” democratic parties by a “bad” leadership, and the rise of the “shadow party” mean that contemporary political party threats seriously frustrate the possibility of remedial action afforded by existing public law and policy mechanisms. They also require us to reflect anew on crafting novel remedies and to revisit our assumptions about parties as creatures of central constitutional importance.

To explain countries’ varying participation in the Belt and Road Initiative, this chapter begins with a discussion of recipient country characteristics that impact the demand for Chinese spending, including the political regime, clientelism, and the public-private orientation of the corporate sector. It then discusses the supply-side factors that influence Chinese foreign spending, including the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), state-owned entities (e.g., SOEs), and private firms. Finally, it evaluates the compatibility of these demand and supply characteristics. The key prediction is that electoral autocracies will display the strongest compatibility with Chinese foreign construction spending. This is amplified when the leaders of these regimes have a weak or insecure hold on power. Electoral autocracies are also predicted to be the most avid adopters of Chinese standards stemming from their eagerness for Chinese infrastructure spending.

This chapter establishes the empirical facts regarding political regimes and the prevalence of clientelism and the public-private orientation of the corporate sector. It begins by showing that electoral autocracies constitute around half of all developing countries during the 2010s, the most of any regime type. They are especially prevalent in Africa and Asia. The theory posits that clientelism plays an important role in driving Chinese foreign infrastructure spending. Several widely used proxies for clientelism establish that it is most prevalent in electoral autocracies. The theory also posits state control of the corporate sector is important to attracting Chinese foreign spending. A variety of measures are used to establish that state ownership of the corporate sector is significantly higher in autocracies than in democracies, especially in industries related to infrastructure. Overall, this chapter provides robust evidence about the characteristics of political regimes posited to influence Chinese infrastructure spending.

The end of the twentieth century was once seen as the ultimate triumph of liberal, constitutional democracy, as new waves of democratization swept the world and as nation-states pursued bold plans of economic and institutional integration. By the third decade of the twenty-first century, however, constitutional democracies, liberal values, and global economic integration were under threat from a rising tide of populist authoritarianism. The distance between these two moments is not so great. In fact, their seemingly divergent moods and tendencies are best understood as distinct manifestations of common tensions that are fundamental to the idea of a sovereign and self-governing people. This introductory chapter argues that the resonance and endurance of popular sovereignty rest on its ambivalences and tensions, its contested status, and even its inherently fictional character. It demonstrates the value of revitalizing the study of popular sovereignty, conceived not as an ideological conviction or a rhetorical device but as a field of enduring questions through which seemingly disparate political phenomena can be understood.

Faced with the challenge of accommodating diversity, liberal justice and human rights promise to provide an adequate normative framework for securing equal liberties and rights for all. However, despite great advancements in theory and law, discrimination endures, and these promises have not been fulfilled for enduring minorities, especially in places of ethno-national conflict. The problem this chapter aims to highlight is that while liberal democracy and human rights frameworks provide us with a desirable ideal, they fail to provide useful guidance for progress, from a situation of ethno-national conflict – which often involves political exclusion, sharp inequalities, low mutual trust, and high animosity – to more just and peaceful societies that respect the human rights of all. Self-determination is currently blocked as a legal remedy; states are reluctant to grant minority rights, especially in cases where majority–minority relations are in conflict; and scholars of equality law, asserting that any real advancement is blocked because of the individualist orientation of the law, send us back to collective measures.

This chapter examines the policy issues that influence the shape and contours of the TV GVC. As with any trading system, the global TV industry is based on a set of social and political values that are predominantly those of open societies and market economies. These values are not universal and the nature and amount of participation of a country into the TV GVC depends on its elites’ degree of adherence to such values. Thus, the first section devotes special attention to China, which has largely shut its doors to the global TV industry. The second section examines the policy alternatives that exist for those countries that wish to embark on the path of GVC participation and economic upgrading. The chapter argues that such a policy has three key prongs: it must take into account the globalised nature of the TV industry and support firms that are best positioned to perform in the global marketplace, harness the benefits of trade, and incentivise creativity through regulation.

Chapter 17 ends with an exploration of the generalisability of this book’s findings, their limitations and potential for new research. It also returns to a fundamental challenge that right-wing populists’ religiously laden identity politics poses for Western societies. Namely, that instead of being just the latest iteration of religious opposition to secularisation, these developments point to a question of post-religious politics itself: what can still unite us in a society in which sources of social connectedness such as class, shared understandings of history, national culture and religion have lost most of their universal appeal and in which parts of the population are left in a profound crisis of identity? Who are ‘we’? Who is the ‘other’? As these questions drive a split between cosmopolitans and communitarians, right-wing populists have recognised a gap of representation and offered their own remedy: an ethno-cultural identity politics based on sweeping ideas of Western civilisation, in the context of which Christianity has become a secularised idea of ‘Christendom’ dissociated from Christian values, beliefs and institutions. Yet, faith leaders and mainstream parties also still have a tremendous influence over which role religion will play in liberal democracies. While the godless crusade may be well under way, its destination and success are yet to be determined.

This chapter describes three major violent events in the Amendolas’ lives. The first was a squadrist attack on Giovanni in central Rome on 26 December 1923. By the following summer, after the Fascist kidnapping and murder of the socialist Giacomo Matteotti, Amendola had become the leader of the Aventine Secession and thus head of the respectable opposition to the Fascist regime. What resulted was a still more vicious beating he was given in Tuscany on the night of 20–21 July 1925. Giovanni died of his injuries in Cannes in April 1926. His tomb carried the message ‘Here lies Giovanni Amendola, waiting’. Even Mussolini was willing to state that Giovanni was the noblest of his enemies (as well as the most menacing). Giovanni’s teenage son, Giorgio, watched his father’s persecution and decided, after 1926, that only communism offered a genuinely strong opposition to Fascism. He therefore joined the party in 1929. By 1943–4, he was a reasonably senior figure in the PCI, and he became responsible for its fighting resistance around Rome. Action culminated on 23 March 1944, with the attack on German soldiers in the Via Rasella.

In the Conclusion, I record the rival fates of Giovanni and Giorgio Amendola since 1980, whether in scholarship, public memory or Italian streetscapes. In each regard, the liberal democrat Giovanni Amendola has moved up and the communist Giorgio Amendola down. The (humane) communist world Giorgio believed in has all but totally disappeared. But liberal democracy, however much transmuted by an all but totalitarian neoliberalism, has prospered and, perhaps, triumphed. Certainly, when the centenary of Giovanni’s death occurs in 1926, it is likely that he will be celebrated as a father of his patria. What might be viewed as the historical limitations of his understanding of where the world was going, his all but non-existent commentary on capitalism and finance, his patriarchalism, his positive view of Italian imperialism – these no longer matter. He can take the leading place as his country’s most admirable saint and martyr of Anti-Fascism.

Chapter 4 examines the relationship between Giovanni Amendola and Nelia Pavlova, born 1895. This complex love story has been all but entirely ignored by Italian scholarship on Giovanni and in the national memory. Apparently, the couple had a son who died of meningitis at the age of six in 1929. In Giovanni’s papers there is evidence of the love affair but no acknowledgement of the child. Since Nelia also claims on occasion to have been ‘married’ to Giovanni, some doubt must remain about the veracity of her account. She was a young woman who resembled Eva Kühn in quite a few ways: foreign, multilingual, independent, from her country’s leading political classes, intellectually able. Nelia was one the three people at Giovanni’s deathbed in Cannes (Giorgio was another). Over time, however, the Amendolas, as they put it, ‘lost contact’ with her. Yet she made for herself a distinguished career as a Paris journalist, an expert in Eastern Europe. While the Amendola sons became communists, she remained a liberal democrat, as well as a woman who always remembered Giovanni as her man. Her death probably occurred in 1940. She should not have been forgotten as easily as she has been.

Chapter 3 continues the account of the contest between Mussolini and his unapologetically violent new movement and Amendola’s efforts to reform and defend liberal democracy. As a patriot and a liberal, Giovanni was as staunchly anti-Marxist as the sometime Marxist Mussolini had become. But with his armed squads and populist newspaper, Il Popolo d’Italia, Mussolini’s political recipe was more successful than Giovanni’s purism and rigour. By 1924, Amendola was the leader of the Aventine Secession, a rump of parliamentarians who withdrew from the Chamber of Deputies when Mussolini’s aides murdered their moderate socialist colleague, Matteotti. Amendola maintained his Anti-Fascist leadership until he was assaulted by Fascists in Tuscany in July 1925. After a retreat to Paris and two unsuccessful emergency operations, he died in Cannes in April 1926. While Giovanni was heavily engaged in politics, he continued to wrestle with his relationship with his wife, Eva Kühn, and their four children. Eva went in and out of mental institutions, whether fairly or not. At some point in these years, Giovanni entered into a relationship with the independent Bulgarian-French journalist Nelia Pavlova.