Freedom at Issue

Despite Lackluster Performance, Kenyan MPs Demand Extravagant Pay Raise

Photo credit: Flickr user DEMOSH

In the midst of a contentious campaign period leading up to an August 4 constitutional referendum, members of Kenya’s Parliament (MPs) have voted to award themselves a pay raise of almost 25 percent, an increase that places them among the highest-paid legislators in the world. MP salaries will rise to 1,091,000 shillings ($12,841) a month, an amount considerably higher than many of their European counterparts—lawmakers in the United Kingdom, for example, are paid $8,445 a month. Even more dramatic is the discrepancy between the MPs and those they represent. A majority of Kenyans live in dire poverty, and the proposed increase would set MP income at fully 240 times Kenyan GDP per capita.

Kenya’s current government formed in April 2008, in the wake of the violent 2007 election crisis.  After an election officially declared “irredeemably polluted,” the Grand Coalition Government was formed to quell the crisis and put into place much-needed reforms of the country’s political system. The 2010 Countries at the Crossroads report detailed the crisis and outlined the meager progress made on the core challenges that the new government vowed to tackle: among other things, electoral reform has stalled, ethnic divisions continue to be profound, and little progress has been made on the complex, vexing problem of land reform.

In stark contrast to this record of inaction, MPs hastened to propose the salary increases before the August 4 referendum as the new constitution would remove lawmakers’ ability to set their own salaries. Defense of the increase—and the rare spirit of near-complete unity shown in parliament—is based on changes in MPs’ tax status. Until recently, parliamentarians enjoyed tax-free status on virtually all income, but public discontent over the issue rose dramatically, leading MPs to finally resign themselves to annual taxation of 227,000 shillings ($2,671) in annual taxes, which will be more than covered by the salary increase of 350,000 shillings ($4,119). The other defense of the increases asserts that the widespread expectation that legislators provide for their constituents entitles them to higher levels of income. High salaries are appropriate, under this reckoning, because legislators distribute their income among constituents in the form of school fees, funeral expenses, and other costs.  House Speaker Kenneth Marende defended the increases, stating “I envision a Kenya where the priest, teachers, and the police will be properly remunerated; not just the politician…Ask yourself: is your contribution impunity? Corruption? Ethnicity? Let’s support each other.”  This change, it seems, starts at home.

Anticipating resistance from the public and the executive, which can delay or veto the bill, legislators are attempting to force the government into approving the proposed increase by refusing to pass legislation on any government activities. In particular, they are refusing to pass the Appropriations Bill, which authorizes virtually all government spending. Absent legislative approval of the bill before August 31, the government will be effectively left with no legal options to draw money for its daily operations.

Not surprisingly, many (if not most) Kenyans do not support the raise. The proposal sparked outrage among civil servants, who have threatened to go on strike if the government approves the increase. In a recent editorial, two civil society leaders condemned the bill as a clear indicator that legislators have forsaken their civic duties in the face of bald greed. Officials of the NGO Kenyans for Peace with Truth and Justice assert that “Parliament is meant to constitute a general check upon executive power, instead of perpetrating fraud upon the very people it purports to serve.  Otherwise, who will guard the guardians?” These and other civil society leaders are calling upon the government to shoot down the proposal regardless of the MPs’ threats. Indeed, government resistance has already surfaced in the Minister of Finance’s declaration that the budget has exhausted all available resources and that new salaries could be financed only through additional borrowing or higher taxes, to the detriment of the Kenyan economy.

This controversy comes at a crucial time, as the country prepares to vote on the most significant political reforms in its recent history. The nongovernmental Kenya Human Rights Commission describes the draft constitution as imperfect but an important improvement over the current constitution, given that it “embodies fundamental principles necessary for the realization of accountability within the Government of Kenya.” This support is far from universal, however. Violence is again threatening to tarnish the political scene, as tensions rise between the new constitution’s supporters and detractors. As the National Cohesion and Integration Committee’s Alice Nderitu warned of the growing threat, “It's tense but manageable... but it's only manageable to the extent that the law enforcement officers don't work alone. When we start talking about death, you know the threat of violence is real.”

Given the power-sharing government’s scant progress on the goals it set for itself and the growing threat of referendum-related violence—let alone the presidential election scheduled for 2012—Kenya’s legislators clearly have much work to do to achieve the political stability deemed essential two years ago. In light of such formidable challenges, the pay raise is symbolic of the ongoing disconnect between the priorities of Kenyan society and the country’s governing class, a gap that continues to threaten the country’s progress and stability.

The Battle Rages on: Media Wars (and their Soldiers) in Ecuador and Argentina

Photo Credit: Flickr user Presidencia de la República del Ecuador

By: Natalie J. Kitroeff

In the aftermath of years of economic and political turmoil, some Latin American states find themselves entrenched in a new kind of battle: a no holds-barred media war. The recent surge in the number of left-populist governments in power in the region has deepened polarization, with economic elites strongly opposing the new leaders’ political and economic platforms. In some cases, the media has been the primary battleground on which these broader political disputes are fought. Ecuador and Argentina are two such countries; in each, the context of the rancorous press wars merits examination, including historical causes, the implications of increasing state influence in the media, and the fierce backlash that government action has engendered.

The circumstances surrounding the media in Ecuador and Argentina are microcosms of the power struggles that define their respective political realities. In Ecuador currently, and in Argentina before the passage of the 2009 Audiovisual Service Communication Law (SCA), antiquated laws established during periods of dictatorship governed the media landscape. In both countries, the dictatorship–era laws allowed for government censorship of the press, mandated broadcasts of official messages, and facilitated almost complete control over the media by a few economic elites. With the advent of democracy, enforcement of the laws became more lax, yet in each country the private media remains concentrated in the hands of a limited number of powerful companies.

Oligopolistic owners have generally been opposed to the leftist economic and social policies implemented by President Rafael Correa in Ecuador and the dual Argentine administrations of former president Nestor Kirchner and his wife, current president Cristina Fernandez. These policies, especially changes to the tax code and steps to expand the role of the state in the economy, tend to conflict with the business interests of the media conglomerates and their investors, which in part accounts for their harsh criticism of many government programs.

Like politicians everywhere, the Correa and Fernandez governments are acutely aware of the power of the media. Both governments are highly sensitive to criticism and disinclined to compromise with media outlets, who they view as the primary opposition force in political environments characterized by disorganized opposition parties. In response to the onslaught of criticism, particularly in the television and print sectors, Correa and the Kirchners have intervened in the media in distinct ways that international observers and human rights groups describe as occasionally repressive and in some cases undemocratic.

The most significant of the efforts to expand state influence in the press have been projects to enact new media laws. Both governments claim that the principal objective of their respective communications laws is to replace ineffective dictatorship–era legislation and break up monopolies held by media giants. While Ecuador’s proposed communications law approaches the issue by “explicitly prohibiting monopolies and oligopolies in media ownership,” Argentina’s SCA seeks to diversify ownership of the press through less direct means, mainly by reforming the process by which media licenses are distributed. In mandating more frequent renewal of licenses for all media outlets and allowing a broader range of groups access to such licenses, the law promises to democratize the highly concentrated private media. While many civil society actors consider these goals to be legitimate—even opposition groups recognize the importance of revising old media regulations—the legitimacy of various provisions in the laws are disputed. 

Of most concern in Argentina is the implementation of new licensing requirements established in the SCA. The opposition contends that tasking the distribution of licenses to a broadcast regulatory body whose members are appointed by a process that “ensure[s] ruling party control”, promises to tighten the government’s grip on the media and limit press freedom. Opposition to the Ecuadorian communications law has been serious enough to stall debate and a final reading in the National Assembly for months. Opposition forces and international human rights groups’ critique has centered around the vague wording of stipulations that critics say pave the way for the regulation of information disseminated by news outlets by a communications council that, like the SCA’s regulatory committee, will have close links to the incumbent government. Press freedom advocates also call for the revision of articles that require high educational qualifications in order to work in journalism.

Less concretely, criticism of both laws essentially amounts to a fear that their implementation could result in too much state control over the press. Given the constant attacks on the private media by both the Correa government and both Kirchner administrations, these suspicions are not entirely unfounded. Since 2008, both Kirchner and Fernandez have been engaged in what has become a vicious personal battle with the media conglomerate Grupo Clarin, which owns 73% of all broadcast licenses in Argentina as well as the nation’s most prominent newspaper. The government has subjected the company to an onslaught of tax audits, accused its owner of adopting babies stolen during the dictatorship, and attempted to limit the circulation of its newspapers by intervening in the directorate of Prensa Papel, the newsprint paper company of which Clarín is the largest shareholder. 

The Correa government’s response to critical coverage is similarly hostile, and arguably more aggressively interventionist. Since his election in 2006, Correa has brought under state ownership three national TV stations, two prominent newspapers, and one radio broadcaster. While the state-owned  outlets affirm their independence, recent firings and resignations over journalists’ disagreement with a government program in the state-run paper El Telegrafo casts some doubt on the impartiality of the media under government control. A ferocious ad campaign designed by the regime to discredit the private media that ran during the World Cup this July only exacerbated tensions between the government and the private press.

The raging media wars in Argentina and Ecuador should be understood, therefore, as products of both structural and politically contingent elements of democracy in these countries. Rather than merely the power grab the opposition portrays them as, the contests are manifestations of longstanding political clashes between left-populist governments and the traditional economic elite. However, as citizens of almost any Latin American country can testify, governments in the region tend to use power aggressively for political ends. The heightened sensitivity of both Correa and Fernandez toward critical media coverage compounds tensions between progressive populists and the ever-powerful, right-leaning elite deeply rooted in the countries’ political and economic pasts. With the media playing such an active political role in so many countries, this combustible mix is likely to plague political systems across Latin America for years to come.

Jordan Convicts Three Former Government Officials on Charges of Corruption

Photo credit: Flickr user Homer-Dog

In a first for the country, Jordan convicted three former government officials on charges of corruption on July 6. The group includes a former finance minister, a senior advisor to the prime minister, and a former head executive of the state’s oil refinery, all of whom were sentenced to three years in jail after being found guilty of taking bribes from a prominent Jordanian businessman. These convictions have the potential to be a promising step forward in the country’s ongoing anticorruption efforts; however, a number of concerns must be addressed before these developments can be taken as a solid advance against corruption.

Jordan ranked #49 out of a possible 180 in Transparency International’s 2009 Corruption Perceptions Index, and levels of corruption there rank favorably to those of the country’s regional peers, but corruption remains a serious impediment to transparent political and economic development in the country. Freedom House’s 2010 Countries at the Crossroads report indicated that the environment to protect against corruption, procedures and systems to enforce anticorruption laws, and the existence of anticorruption norms, standards, and protections were all lacking, resulting in a poor anticorruption and transparency score of 2.48 out of a possible 7.

It is clear that Jordanians are deeply concerned about the impact of corruption on political development. A 2008 poll conducted by Amman’s Center for Strategic Studies, for example, shed light on the perceived impact of corruption. Asked what the most prominent obstacle was to democracy in Jordan, 17.4% of respondents chose “the spread of financial and administrative corruption, favoritism and nepotism.” 

The Crossroads report details one particularly troubling element, the existence of extensive and entrenched patronage networks that distribute jobs, land, lucrative contracts, subsidies and other benefits. Jordan’s monarchy has consistently used these networks to reward allies and supporters and to withhold valuable resources and access from its detractors. Patronage networks organized along political lines are not problematic simply because they are inequitable, but are also harmful because they essentially create an informal social support system that marginalizes those that do not support the government. This has the dual effect of unduly handicapping a large proportion of the population in their access to jobs and other resources, while simultaneously eroding the government’s capacity to effectively deliver public goods to its citizenry.

The government seems to have recognized these concerns and has taken some modest steps toward reform. The king has vowed to cut corruption dramatically and created an Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC) in 2006. Though the group has examined over 1,000 allegations of corruption, it is hardly independent, as the King himself appoints the commission’s six members. Jordan signed the United Nations Convention Against Corruption in 2005 and in 2006 hosted the conference of state parties to that convention. Soon after signing the convention, a number of reforms intended to increase transparency and accountability were enacted; however, continued implementation of these measures has been weak. The trial of public officials for corruption is especially rare, and the recent convictions could potentially represent an initial step toward fuller implementation of anticorruption measures.

Multiple issues call into question the true depth of Jordan’s anticorruption efforts, however, including the recent convictions. Chief among critics’ concerns about the recent convictions is that the trial took place in a special security court, as opposed to a civil court. The special status of this case could suggest that the government considers it exceptional and does not intend to make a habit of trying high-level officials. Comprehensive anticorruption reform cannot be ad hoc, but rather requires the development of a transparent and independent anticorruption system with institutionalized laws and procedures. It is troubling that the government missed an opportunity to strengthen the organizations and procedures already in place by failing to apply them in the recent case. The head of Transparency International’s Jordan chapter, Mamdouh Abbadi, seems to share this sentiment, explaining, “We do not want the government to be choosy in tackling corruption, but rather we want to see a continuing process. We would like more cases referred to the court of cassation and not a military court, which is a special court.”

The fact that journalists were barred from the court also raised concerns. Analysis of the case has been limited within the Kingdom, and the function of Jordanian media outlets in anticorruption efforts is unclear. Media actors tend to report on cases only after they have reached courts, as opposed to acting as watchdogs for corruption as it occurs.  Jordanian media laws play a role in this failure, as the criticism of a court ruling is a felony offense that carries the possibility of jail time. Not surprisingly, comprehensive in-country news analysis of corruption proceedings is rare.

Despite these and other weighty concerns, the recent convictions are promising and can hopefully be taken as a signal of more reform to come. But as experiences with high-profile convictions in many other countries indicate, unless the government seizes momentum and continues to enact and implement reforms, the impact of the convictions will remain limited.

Peruvian President Sharply Criticized for Rejection of Indigenous Consultation Law

Photo Credit: Flickr User Distra

By: Natalie J. Kitroeff

Peruvian president Alan Garcia has again outraged human rights groups, members of the political opposition, and indigenous citizens, this time by refusing to sign legislation passed by Peru’s Congress that would have expanded the role of the country’s indigenous community in decisions regarding extractive industries-linked projects on their ancestral lands. By sending the law back to Congress late on Monday, June 21—just days before a two-month recess—Garcia effectively blocked any near-term resolution of the contentious matter.

The bill, known as the Consultation Law, promised to bring the Peruvian government into compliance with International Labor Organization (ILO) Convention 169, which mandates consultation with indigenous peoples regarding policies that pertain to their lives and livelihoods and, more specifically, their ancestral landholdings. Though Peru has been a signatory to the convention for over 15 years, indigenous and human rights groups maintain that the government has failed to institute the mechanisms needed to comply with its provisions. The sometimes tragic implications of this institutional failure are reflected in the steep rise in social conflicts in Peru in recent years, most graphically illustrated by the violent clash between Amazonian indigenous groups and the national police in Bagua province in June 2009.

Garcia’s refusal to enact the Consultation Law represents both a missed opportunity and another spark that could potentially ignite Peru’s social powder keg. The administration’s emphasis on promoting foreign investment in resource extraction projects has ratcheted up tensions, especially among residents of the barren slopes of the Andes and those living in Peru’s vast Amazonian lowlands. According to a report released by Peru’s human rights ombudsman, as of May 2010 there are 255 social conflicts in the country, only 54 percent of which are “in the process of dialogue.” According to the report, the majority of the current disputes are related to environmental disputes, and some 40 percent of the conflicts have already generated at least one instance of political violence.

These figures reflect the government’s failure to provide effective formal channels for Peruvian citizens to make demands and enforce their rights. In the absence of such official mediation mechanisms, indigenous and other marginalized groups have long resorted to social protest as a means by which to communicate their grievances to the country’s political and social elites. Indeed, the incidence of social conflict has increased even as Peruvian GDP has expanded and poverty rates have gradually decreased, in large part due to the primacy of extractive industries in the country’s export basket. The inability of the regime to respond effectively to each seemingly local and sui generis dispute further exacerbates the problem. Absent effective mediation channels or evident political will to intervene proactively, seemingly resolvable disputes tend to become unstable and often violent. All too often, high-level dialogue fails to occur until after violence has occurred.

The confrontation between indigenous protesters and police in Bagua province on June 5, 2009 is the most dramatic example of this pattern. The clash occurred after several months of peaceful protest by various indigenous organizations in response to a set of decrees adopted by the Garcia administration that would have promoted resource extraction projects on historically indigenous lands. The groups maintained that the laws violated not only their basic human rights but also their right to be consulted on policies affecting ancestral lands, as guaranteed under ILO 169. Tensions exploded when police initiated actions to forcibly remove demonstrators from the main road leading into Bagua. While official figures claim that 23 police officers and 9 indigenous protesters were killed in the clashes, with nearly 200 additional injuries, Human Rights Watch reported that “the number of civilian deaths is still uncertain…[and] some witnesses allege law enforcement agents threw bodies of several protesters into the river.” According to both domestic and international human rights observers, the process of bringing to justice those involved in the attack has also been one-sided, with indigenous protesters receiving harsher punishment than police officers or their superiors—both police commanders and civilian politicians—with oversight responsibility during the standoff.

According to official statements released by the office of the presidency, Garcia rejected the law because it would impede national development and grant too much control over political decisions to indigenous peoples, thereby undermining the sovereign power of the state. In an effort to refute Congress and even the ILO itself— which expressed support for the law in a meeting last week—the office of the presidency released documents explaining Garcia’s objection to the legislation by citing various ways  in which it does not comply with the specific stipulations of convention 169. Analysts have noted, however, that in this document the president misconstrues the meaning behind both the ILO convention and the Consultation Law and that the objections are therefore debatable or outright unsubstantiated.

The Peruvian Congress, racked by corruption scandals and constant political maneuverings during its current term, has figured among the institutions with the lowest approval ratings in recent years. Passage of the Consultation Law, therefore, could have provided the legislature’s image a boost. More importantly, it represented a groundbreaking step toward establishing the formal channels for the state to engage in dialogue with indigenous and other local communities prior to the initiation of major projects—a step utterly necessary to stem further social conflict. Garcia’s objections to the law have been criticized by observers as indicative of the leadership’s resistance to granting indigenous groups any sort of institutionalized influence over political decision-making processes. Rejecting this law on the eve of a two-month congressional recess suggests that Garcia is more concerned with avoiding rather than resolving the issue. This response is indicative of the significant obstacles, in terms of both institutional capacity and political will, that continue to hinder Peru’s progress toward overcoming the wide social, economic, and political breaches that hinder its progress toward improved democratic governance.