The new face of authoritarianism

It is different from the uniformed and jackbooted fascism of a century ago, but only in appearance

In 2018, only a couple of years into the presidency of Donald Trump, a remarkable book was published, called How Democracies Die. Its authors, Harvard professors Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt, assessed the history and nature of primary elections and caucuses in the United States, through which candidates for president are elected. And they examined the candidacy and rhetoric of Mr Trump.

They applied this to a framework they developed to assess the manner in which nations turned authoritarian while retaining the formal structure of constitutional democracies. Their framework was, in turn, based on the work of a previous scholar named Juan J Linz, which the authors expanded. The book is remarkable among other things because of how prescient it  was in predicting the environment that would ultimately result in the attack on the United States Capitol on January 6, 2021, seeking to overthrow Joseph Biden’s victory (and remarkable also because of how little crowing there is and was from the authors after what they foresaw actually came to be). The other thing that is striking about it is how lucidly it takes one through the history of the primaries in the two-party system.

At the heart of the work, however, is a little table the authors drew up as a sort of test to identify authoritarianism in states with elected leaders. It has four key elements. The first indicator of authoritarianism is rejection of the “rules” of democracy. This is explained as willingness to violate or reject the constitution; the banning of organisations and restricting civil and political rights (such as free speech, freedom of association and freedom of assembly); and the undermining of election results. The authors marked Mr Trump as violating this last bit.

The second element is denial of the legitimacy of opponents. This is indicated by describing rivals as subversive (anti-national), or national security threats; as criminals and corrupt unsuited to be in office; or foreign agents working for the enemy. Here the authors highlight Mr Trump’s attack on his rival Hillary Clinton as a criminal who should be locked up.

Illustration: Ajay Mohanty

The third element is the toleration and encouragement of violence. This is indicated through links with armed gangs, paramilitary groups and militias; encouragement of mobs; and endorsement of violence by mobs by a refusal to condemn or punish it.

Here the authors say Mr Trump’s authoritarian tendency is marked by the last aspect of mob violence.

The four and last element is the readiness to curtail civil liberties of opponents, including the media. This is indicated through laws restricting protest and criticism; restricting or banning civil society and political organisations; threatening legal and other action against rivals, NGOs and the media; and praising repression elsewhere in the world. On this final indicator, the authors say Mr Trump adheres to all of the above. Overall, they are not in doubt that the behaviour of the then president was authoritarian and dangerous.

When such a leader controls the state, it results in a democracy that is primarily one in name. Meaning that the first principle of republicanism, that is elected government, is adhered to. But the rest of what constitutes democracy is tossed out. The authors say that states like Venezuela, Turkey, Russia, Poland and Hungary are such authoritarian democracies. They have not turned their attention to South Asia, but going through their indicators, even though they have been refined for American politics, is revealing. One is in no doubt where we stand. While the behaviour of Mr Trump and his supporters was indeed egregious, it was weak porridge compared to the stronger stuff we have been given.

The state and central leadership of political parties in the United States performed a sort of gatekeeping role, through the undemocratic caucus and primary system. Undemocratic because only insiders could make it through and this kept radicals like Charles Lindbergh (for the Republican Party in 1940) and Henry Ford (for the Democratic Party in 1924) out. Though they may have had more popularity than the ultimate party candidates — Calvin Coolidge in 1924 and Wendell  Willkie  in 1940 — because they were outsiders they could not break through and become party candidates. For this reason, they could not ultimately be elected president in what was a restrictive, two-party system. The open primaries of the modern era in the Republican Party changed that and Mr Trump was the first, but surely not the last, outsider demagogue to seize control of the Republican party and win the office of president.

Parties in countries like ours have no such internal or institutional checks and capture of parties by individuals and families is the norm. And demagoguery is not only easier here but also encouraged and rewarded. This is why what is apparently a recent global trend in  Western democracies has always been present in South Asian democracies. One could argue, successfully, that this trend has deepened to the point where something new is blossoming, but we can look at that another time.

In the modern era, authoritarianism looks different from the uniformed and jackbooted fascism of a century ago. Different also from the military-led dictatorships so common, including in our neighbourhood, in the world of the Cold War. Today democracy can be and usually is undermined from within. Just have a look again at those four indicators and it becomes quite difficult to make the case that democracy has not been undermined. The essential values and rules of democracy, including civil liberties, have been obliterated. The appropriation of institutions is all but complete and this capture has been so normalised as to be barely commented upon. And finally, a submissive and often collaborating media has made the process complete.

The writer is chair of Amnesty International India