Wolf Linder, Swiss Democracy: Possible Solutions to Conflict in Multicultural Societies, 1994.

4 Comparative Perspectives

4.1 DIRECT DEMOCRACY

4.1.1 Experiences of Direct Democracy Compared

A worldwide comparative study of direct democracy produced some astonishing results: David Butler and Austin Ranney1 counted more than 500 referenda up to 1978. Their distribution, though, was uneven. Switzerland accounted for 300 nationwide referenda, Australia 39, France 20 and Denmark 13. In all other countries the number was below ten. But, with the exception of the USA and the Netherlands, all countries surveyed had, prior to 1978, experimented at least once with popular votes at the national level. Table 4.1 gives an overview of the subjects of such polls.

Table 4.1 shows that a large majority of nationwide referenda have been attempts to seek endorsement for new regimes, or to establish new constitutional frameworks. Territorial issues can be linked to this category if territorial change is followed by the establishment of a new state, a change of nationality or a statute for political autonomy for a specific region. In these cases the principle of self-determination of a people, and the attempt to provide legitimation for fundamental changes in the political order are important motives. Some illustrative examples are the separation of Norway from Sweden in 1905, the vote of English Togo (under United Nations supervision) to join with Ghana, and of French Togo to become independent in 1965, as well as the more recent case of the Philippines where, in 1986 after the end of the Marcos regime, President Corazon Aquino allowed the people to ratify the new constitution.

Besides cases where the constitution itself requires amendments to be submitted to a popular vote, we find many European and Australasian referenda being needed to approve important government decisions. Spanish citizens, for instance, voted to remain in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), the Danish and the Irish in 1972 decided to join the European Community (EC). The Norwegians in the same year voted against joining the EC and in 1975 British citizens had the last word on whether or not to remain in the EC. For some presidents of the Fifth Republic of France, plebiscites were an important means for their presidential policies, short-circuiting parties and parliament. De Gaulle, for instance, let the 'Francais et Franchises' have the last word on his decision to relinquish Algeria in 1962; but he failed with regional and senate reforms in 1969 and subsequently resigned as president of the republic. In some East European countries, plebiscites were used from the very beginning of the liberalisation process. Whereas the Polish authorities failed to obtain the support of the people when trying to pass early reforms for economic liberalisation, the Hungarian opposition in 1989 won a referendum on the question of election procedure against the wishes of the still communist-controlled government.

These examples illustrate the vast variety of occasions on which people are able to express their preferences in important political decisions. It is not easy to distinguish the different uses made of the devices of direct democracy, but it is impossible to overlook their consequences. With regard to who has the authority to demand that a popular vote be held, we can distinguish four basic types of participation:

  1. Government-controlled referenda. The majority of parliament or the president have the sole power to decide whether or not a referendum should be held. They decide the subject matter and the wording of the proposition to be voted upon.
  2. Constitutionally required referenda. The constitution requires that certain decisions (constitutional amendments, ordinary laws, decisions on financial or international issues) be approved by the voters before they can take effect. In these constitutionally defined decisions, the government has a free hand when formulating the proposition, but is legally bound to a direct-democratic procedure.
  3. Referenda initiated by the people. A certain number of voters are authorised to demand a popular vote to be held on specific government measures, be it before or after these have taken effect. Thus it depends on a group of citizens to decide whether a government decision has to be ratified by the people.
  4. Popular initiatives. A certain number of voters are authorised to demand a popular vote to be held on specific measures which they themselves have proposed. Thus it is a group of people who, acting as 'lawmakers', decide the subject matter and the wording of the proposition to be voted on.

Most countries have only the first type of popular vote. Under such an institutional arrangement direct democracy is limited in use and purpose. If it is left to the discretion of the government to put issues before the voters, the referendum tends to serve as an occasional device to obtain wider support for a presidential or parliamentary policy.3

This case is fundamentally different from countries where a defined class of government decision is always subject to a constitutionally required referendum, or where citizens can, by petition, challenge government decisions (optional referenda) or hand in proposals for constitutional or legislative reform (popular initiatives). The difference is that all these devices (types 2-4 of popular participation) sanction or correct government policies and politics. Under these institutional arrangements, direct democracy is intended to give citizens an independent voice in politics and policies. This may be in accord with governmental policies, especially in the case of constitutionally required referenda. But the voice of the citizens can be, and often is, raised against the government. To challenge government decisions in a selective way is the 'natural' use of popular referenda. The idea of 'correcting' representative democracy is further developed by the popular initiative, which gives the people the possibility not only of approving or repealing government decisions, but also offers a group of citizens the chance to have their own propositions to put a popular vote.

The list of countries where direct democracy is used to challenge or correct the parliamentary process is short. In Australia national referenda, which are required for certain constitutional amendments, are held quite frequently. The Italian constitution provides for referenda with the proviso that the citizens can challenge a parliamentary law only some time after its introduction and application. This unique 'abrogative referendum' was used in the divorce issue for instance, when part of the Catholic population wanted to abolish the secular and liberal divorce law. Recently the Philippine constitution of 1986 has institutionalised both the initiative and the referendum. In the USA, however, direct democracy is as widely institutionalised, used and popular at the state level as it is in Switzerland. In all US states, with the exception of Delaware, any amendment of the constitution requires a popular vote. With more than 100 constitutional amendments per state, on average, the device seems to be as important as in Switzerland. In 26 states we find one or another type of referendum for parliamentary laws, often complemented by a financial referendum. Citizens in 21 states can propose legislation by means of the popular initiative. In 16 states the citizens can initiate a 'recall', which allows voters to remove or discharge a public official from office. In no other part of the world but California have citizens had so much opportunity to express their political preferences: from 1884 to 1990, Californians voted on 1098 issues.4

As already mentioned, however, the USA has one fundamental difference from Switzerland: direct democracy is limited to state or local level. Populist forces in the late 1970s had no real chance to change the tradition of republican belief in the system of 'checks and balances', which is opposed to any form of plebiscite at national level. Yet, for an assessment of direct democracy, it may be most useful to compare the experiences of the US states and Switzerland.

4.1.2 The Practice of Direct Democracy in US States and Switzerland: Similarities and Differences

In his overall assessment of direct democracy in US states, Thomas Cronin comes to the conclusion that:

In sum, direct democracy devices have not been a cure-all for most political, social, or economic ills, yet they have been an occasional remedy, and generally a moderate remedy, for legislative lethargy and the misuse of legislative power. It was long feared that these devices would dull legislators' sense of responsibility without in fact quickening the people to the exercise of any real control in public affairs. Little evidence exists for those fears today. When popular demands for reasonable change are repeatedly ignored by elected officials and when legislators or other officials ignore valid interests and criticism, the initiative, referendum and recall can be a means by which the people may protect themselves in the grand tradition of self-government.5
This assessment could also be largely subscribed to in the case of Switzerland, whose ideas of popular control of representative government in fact influenced the development of direct democracy in the USA between 1890 and 1920. Another common conclusion can be drawn: historically speaking, critics as well as proponents of direct democracy overestimated the power of the referendum and the initiative, whether for ill or good. Finally, even if voters in the USA and Switzerland are aware of its limited effects and deficiencies, direct democracy constitutes an element of political culture that citizens are not willing to relinquish.

An astonishing number of similarities are detectable when comparing a number of Cronin's points on the 'general effects of direct democracy devices'.

  1. 'Direct democracy can enhance government responsiveness and accountability.' For Switzerland, we have noted characteristics of the public sector (the small budget of central government, limited public administration, the modification of a proposed policy programme after its defeat in the first popular vote, and so on) that indicate a high level of responsiveness to the 'will of the people'. On the other hand, the power-sharing coalition of an all-party government can also work as a political cartel and thus reduce responsiveness. Valid comparisons, though, cannot be made. In the USA, where comparison with purely representative states is possible, Cronin notes that, 'few initiative, referendum and recall states are known for corruption and discrimination. Still, it is difficult to single them out and argue persuasively that they are decidedly more responsive than those without the initiative, referendum, and recall'.
  2. As in Switzerland, 'direct democratic processes have not brought about rule by the common people'. In both systems, more than 90 per cent of important parliamentary decisions are not challenged. Popular initiatives change and influence the political agenda, but do not call into question the role of parliament as the dominant lawmaking institution. At more than 45 per cent, the rate of successful initiatives is higher in the American states than in the Swiss federation (10 per cent) and its cantons (30 per cent). But in both countries direct democracy is followed by inequalities of participation. It is the better educated, socially better-off citizen who engages and participates significantly more in direct democracy. All available empirical data seem to indicate that the more complicated the procedure of participation, the more it is socially discriminatory. This selective bias affects the devices of direct democracy, which are generally more complex than simply casting an election vote.8 Finally, direct democracy requires citizens to get organised. Cronin states that 'direct democracy devices occasionally permit those who are motivated and interested in public policy issues to have a direct personal input by recording their vote, but this is a long way from claiming that direct democracy gives a significant voice to ordinary citizens on a regular basis'.
  3. 'Direct legislation does not produce unsound legislation and unwise or bad policy.' There are strong arguments for this value judgment, despite empirical evidence in both countries that citizens are relatively poorly informed about the issues on which they vote: the contributions of direct democracy do not essentially differ from those of parliament. As with every procedure based on majority rule, minorities can lose, and this risk, according to Cronin, may be slightly greater in a direct democracy than with lawmaking through the legislative process. But voters in direct democracies 'have also shown that most of the time they too will reject measures that would diminish rights, liberties, and freedoms for the less well-represented or less-organized segments of society'. I would insist, though, that this statement compares only direct and indirect democracy legislation. I would add that the quality of direct democracy depends on the quality of parliamentary and government policies. Germany's change from a democracy to an authoritarian regime was 'legitimated' by three plebiscites in 1933-6, and Austria approved the Anschluss in 1938 by a popular vote. If Switzerland at that time rejected the popular initiatives of the Nazi movement, an important reason for this was that besides the people, a clear majority of political elites were also hostile to the idea of fascism. They were, furthermore, strong enough to propose an alternative constitutional policy to save national independence and democracy.10
  4. 'Direct democracy can influence the political agenda in favour of issues important to less well organized interests.' Environmentalists provide a good example of this for California and Switzerland. We have to note, however, that innovations in favour of the poor or the less well-organised often move from the bottom upwards in the federal system. For example political equality for women and educational reforms had first to be introduced in some cantons before achieving success at the national level.
  5. 'Direct democracy tends to strengthen single issue and interest groups rather than political parties with larger, general interest, programmes.' Popular democratic rule partially loses or changes its meaning when devices of direct democracy, originally used by social movements, pass into the hands of interest groups. The 'normal' form and function of direct democracy are not what they were at the beginning. This statement for Switzerland can be complemented by the US experience that 'Initial achievements or victories were won by the populists and progressives, but the very bosses or interests against whom these devices were aimed soon learn to adapt to the new rules, deflect them, or use them to advance their strategic interests'. Cronin, who partially agrees with this critique made by both Herbert Croly and Richard Hofstadter, does, however make the point that special interest and single-issue groups regularly take part in direct democracy as well as in representative democracy. If the USA has become a nation of interest groups, it is the very task of politics to blend divergent interests into great governing coalitions. This, in Cronin's view, parliament is best placed to achieve.
  6. 'Money is, other things being equal, the single most important factor determining direct legislation outcomes.' It costs money to collect signatures for a referendum or initiative petition, to create an effective organisation for a voting campaign, to formulate and pass a political message on to voters by direct mail, to finance propaganda and to attract the attention of the mass media. To a certain extent, money can be substituted by voluntary work by political activists. Political unity and the frequent use of the devices of direct democracy lead to the professionalisation of campaigns, an evolution well known in the USA and observable in Switzerland, albeit with a time lag. Unequal distribution of money leads to unequal campaign spending, sometimes up to ratios of 1:20 or 1:50. In Switzerland as in the American states, the high-spending side wins 80-90 per cent of the campaigns. It is exceptional for underdogs to win against 'big money'. Some American scholars not only speak of campaign money as the single most powerful predictor of who wins and who loses. They also find causal relations in cases where money -- distributed differently -- would have changed the result.12 In Switzerland propaganda is less effective for 'predispositioned' and concrete issues, where citizens' preferences are related to first-hand experience and their own values. It is effective, however, in non-predispositioned, mostly complex and abstract issues (see Chapter 3.5.5).

    Together with socially unequal participation, the distorting effect of money is probably the most serious deficiency of direct democracy. First, unbalanced campaign spending violates the fundamental idea a democracy based on 'one person, one vote'. We could draw an analogy with a town meeting or a television debate where one side gets to speak twice, or five or 20 times more than the other side. Second, the risk of deceptive advertising can be greater if there is no counterbalance. Citizens can be prevented from making a fair judgement of the real issue. These problems are unresolved in Switzerland while attempts in the USA to regulate the financing of direct-democracy campaigns have been thwarted in the courts.

After all these similarities, there are three fundamental differences.

  1. In US states, direct democracy is not an element of political power-sharing. In the USA, with its two-party system, its winner-take-all elections and its relatively homogeneous majority which has installed a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant hegemony, the referendum is not a device that permits cultural minorities -- blacks for instance -- to gain better access to power or secure proportional representation. Nor are there the negotiation processes carried out in the shadow of the referendum challenge which characterise Swiss parliamentary legislation. One possibility here might be that US interest groups find it much easier to exert their influence through parliamentary bargaining. Lobbyists in the US legislative tradition can try to get their interests to appear in virtually every bill by attaching their desires as 'riders' (non-germane amendments). This leads to bills that are sometimes a conglomerate of matters such as money for agriculture, schools, highway construction and soon -- but it does facilitate the finding of 'constructive majorities' between interest groups. In Switzerland -- as in other European legislative traditions -- these deals would not be possible because different matters must be regulated by different bills. The argument in Chapter 3 was that the indirect effects of power-sharing through the referendum were even more important than direct-participation effects. From the Swiss point of view, direct democracy in the USA lacks the most important function of political integration. On the other hand, direct democracy in the USA has not led to the devaluation of elections that is observable at the federal level in Switzerland.

  2. Direct democracy in the USA is a complementary element of a representative polity while in Switzerland it has transformed the whole political system. With the introduction of the referendum at the end of the nineteenth century, Swiss political institutions -- which originally followed representative ideas -- were completely restructured. Majoritarian democracy was transformed into a system of consensus democracy. Negotiated legislation and power-sharing became necessary if the government was to avoid defeat in referenda. This institutional transformation, especially the introduction of proportional representation, has not happened in the USA. To the Swiss observer it seems as if representative and direct democracy in the American states were much more independent of each other. As far as political culture and beliefs are concerned, the predominant idea in Switzerland is direct democracy while in the USA it is representative democracy.3 In one respect direct democracy is of much more consequence in Switzerland than in the USA: the referendum and the popular initiative are also used at national level. This distinction is most important. It means that foreign policy, (inter-)national security and economic policy are not excluded from the devices of direct democracy. This is even more astonishing in light of the fact that the Swiss constitution was influenced by nineteenth century doctrines which put foreign policy into the hands of an executive body so that it might have complete autonomy in its negotiations with foreign powers. In practice the Federal Council is under much less parliamentary control for its foreign policy than it is for domestic affairs.13 Nevertheless two constitutional amendments, passed in 1920 and 1977 (Articles 89 III-V), stipulate that permanent, irreversible international treaties, treaties implying multilateral unifications of law, and decisions to join an international organisation should be subject to popular referenda. If the government should want Switzerland to become a member of a supranational organisation or a system of collective security, the referendum is obligatory. Moreover the Federal Assembly can also make the referendum applicable to other treaties. The Swiss polity thus also empowers the people to participate in matters which in earlier times were the sovereign right of the monarch and which have partially remained prerogatives of the executive in most democratic polities.

4.1.3 The Theory of Direct Democracy: Between the Ideal and the Reality

4.1.3.1 Enhancing participation

Democratisation is never completed. In modern history there have been fights for political freedom all over the world. In theory democracy is a concept that nourishes a lasting controversy between ideas and realities, with both of them changing. This is especially true with regard to participation, a key issue of democracy and its theory. Political participation was once limited to a certain class of citizens: males in independent professions, with a certain degree of wealth and head-of-family status. Since the classical theory of liberal democracy was preoccupied with the protection of the individual and his property against the state, we should not wonder that John Stuart Mill, in his Thoughts on Parliamentary Reform (1859), proposed to differentiate the weight of individual votes according to education, property and family size of the patron. Today we could not imagine a true democracy without the political right of every adult citizen to participate in elections -- as voter or candidate. The principle of a free and equal vote has become almost universal. Immigrants however, unless they have been granted citizenship, are still generally excluded from voting. Should foreigners who pay taxes and social security contributions have the right to vote after several years of residence? Yes, said the Swiss canton of Neuchatel as far back as the nineteenth century, and the canton of Jura also lets foreigners participate at cantonal level. Today some Scandinavian countries have similar provisions and the EC aspires to provide a common minimum standard for the political rights of the citizens of all EC countries.

Enhancing participation in the history of modern democracy is considered to be a progressive idea. It means respect for the personal autonomy of every individual, and a more appropriate interpretation of the demos of democracy. From a normative perspective of democratic theory, Robert A. Dahl speaks of the 'principle of inclusion', which he discusses under the following formula: 'Every adult subject to a government and its laws must be presumed to be qualified as, and has an unqualified right to be, a member of the demos'.15

If enhancing participation by the inclusion of almost all categories of individuals is considered to be part of historical progress and a normative principle of democracy today, what about the quality of participation? Does direct democracy, which gives citizens the right not only to elect a government but also to vote on certain political decisions, enhance the quality of participation? Is it a more real and better form of democracy?

From the previous discussion we are aware that direct democracy is not the rule but the exception. Contrary to the principle of inclusion, enhancing participation by direct democracy devices has not become universal. And in theory it is a matter of controversy as to whether direct democracy is better democracy. The debate between the two different schools, proponents of direct and of representative democracy, presents two fundamentally different perspectives on governance and government.

4.1.3.2 Direct vs representative democracy

In the USA, where the development of modern democracy was accompanied by theorising which influenced the framing of the constitution, the two different strands of direct and representative democracy were present from the beginning. On one side were Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, who were suspicious of government, but confident of the common sense of the people. Jefferson, especially, held that the will of the people was the only legitimate foundation of government, and 'wished to see the republican principle of popular control pushed to its fullest exercise'.16 On the other side, John Adams and James Madison, advocates of informed, wise and responsible decision-making by elected representatives, were sceptical about possible abuses of democracy by an ill-informed and irrational general public. The US constitution, as a purely representative system, with its checks and balances and filters of indirect election of the president, much resembles this model of prudence. Representative government, besides having become the common standard all over the world, serves as a normative reference point in much democratic theory of today. And many of the arguments against direct democracy have not changed much since Madison's times: participation beyond elections goes beyond the horizon and competence of most people, who are not willing to engage in or spend much time on the study and discussion of complex public affairs. The building of consensus, they say, should be left to political elites.

The case for direct democracy in modern theory, as represented by Benjamin Barber and others,17 can be made on two grounds. The first argument is a critique of the deficiencies of the representative model: if representative government is more than an elitist power arrangement, its elected officials must somehow be responsive to their constituency. But on this point the theory of representative democracy was never clear. The debate between 'mandate' theorists (representatives have to present their voters views as faithfully as possible) and 'independent' theorists (the representative's duty is to deliberate free of particular interests and in the general interest of all) is still unresolved. The ambiguity and weakness of the representative model -- 'thin democracy' -- can be remedied only by direct participation of the people to produce a strong democracy (Barber 1984). The second argument concerns the role of democracy in society. Whereas part of modern theory (especially economic concepts, beginning with Joseph Schumpeter and Anthony Downs)19 considers democracy merely as an instrument for rational collective action, populist-plebiscitary proponents share the unbroken tradition of a broader normative concept: democracy has to make man and woman free. Democracy as citizens' involvement in public affairs is part of an individual's development and creates citizenship and community.20

4.1.3.3 'Sensible democracy' -- a third model?

The sharp contrast between models of direct and representative democracy disappears when looking at actual practice. Despite the many weaknesses in the theoretical model, representative government has become the predominant type of democracy. The device of competitive elections with the possibility of a change of power seems to be responsive enough, at least in industrialised countries, to work satisfactorily for its citizens. Democratic government 'for' the people is realistic in the sense that a large majority of citizens are not -- and probably will never want to be -- political activists. But in some democracies, such as in the USA and in the Swiss federation and its cantons, citizens wanted more. It was the deficiencies of representative government as well as the citizens' claim for personal expression and political participation that gave populist movements their successes when introducing the devices of direct democracy into initially representative systems. The experiences of this amalgam have dashed the original hopes of the populists and contradicted most of the fears of opponents of direct democracy -- at least in practice. Concerning the debate between proponents of direct and indirect democracy, the predictive value of democratic theory has been rather disappointing, except for one important point: direct democracy, by giving people the power to define when and on which issue to take things into their own hands, has always acted as a corrective to representative government.

In the view of Thomas Cronin, this amalgam of representative government and corrective direct democracy constitutes a third model, 'sensible democracy', which combines the values of the two types.

Sensible" democracy, with its referenda, initiatives and the recalls:

  1. Values representative institutions and wants legislators and other elected officials to make the vast majority of laws
  2. Values majority rule yet understands the need to protect minority rights most of the time
  3. Wants to improve legislative processes
  4. Wants occasionally to vote on public policy issues
  5. Wants safety-valve recall or vote of no confidence procedures as a last resort for inept and irresponsible public officials -- but is willing to make these options difficult to use
  6. Wants to improve the ability of the ordinary person both to run for office and to use direct democracy procedures
  7. Wants to lessen the influence of secrecy, money, and single-interest groups in public decision-making processes
  8. Trusts representatives most of the time, yet distrusts the concentration of power in any one institution
  9. Trusts the general public's decision some of the time, yet distrusts majority opinion some of the time
  10. Is indifferent to most initiatives and referenda except when it comes to its own pet initiative issue
  11. Agrees with the central arguments of both the proponents and opponents of populist democracy, hence favours a number of regulating safeguards for direct democracy devices
  12. Is fundamentally ambivalent toward popular democracy -- favoring it in theory and holding a more skeptical attitude toward it as it is practiced in states and localities.21

This seems to be a 'realistic' normative appreciation, but I would like to add the following point:

Is of help for developing an integrative political culture of citizenship and community.
Taking into account the slightly different experiences of Swiss direct democracy, however, I would propose three points for discussion. These all are based on the central argument that relations between direct democracy and representative government can also develop in a less harmonious way than in Cronin's perspective.

  1. Participation and the problem of social equality. As mentioned earlier, direct democracy is particularly sensible to the unequal participation of citizens, and to the inequality between different groups in gaining the attention of the public at large and influencing public opinion. Under these conditions, point 7 of Cronin's list may be too optimistic. As Macpherson mentions, it is not easy to escape a vicious circle of the sort that better participation first needs more social equality -- and that more social equality in turn requires better participation. Whenever democratic theory makes its normative point about equality in society,23 it rests mostly on a moral appeal that is unconvincing because of its essential point that democratic procedures by themselves should have an equalising effect. In practice, sometimes they do, and sometimes they do not. 'Positive' economic theory of democracy seems even to be reluctant to accept the point of social equality.24 Neither of the models of direct democracy nor that of sensible democracy give us a convincing answer.
  2. Normative orientation. Cronin's model of sensible democracy does not imply that any subject or matter should be excluded from the people's vote. In his concluding remarks, however, he opposes national referenda and initiatives being held in the USA, among other reasons on the ground that 'too many issues at the national level involve national security or international economic relations'. We may find here one of the discrepancies (point 12 of the model) between theory and practice. But it may be a point of fundamental importance, and a source of political conflict as well, whether some matters should be excluded from popular vote. As we see from the case of Switzerland, which a priori excludes no subject from direct democracy, other answers than Cronin's are possible. Finally, a highly controversial question concerning the function of democratic procedures remains unanswered in the model of sensible democracy: is democracy a decision procedure just for government affairs, or should it play a role in other domains of society? Participatory theory sees democracy as a value and as a means of personal emancipation and therefore nothing should be excluded from it -- not education, not the workplace, not the firm. There are theorists of (representative) liberal democracy who would share this point of view, but this seems to conflict with their predominant perception of democracy as limited to decisions and matters of government.
  3. Optimal influence of citizens' preferences. The term 'sensible democracy' suggests that institutional arrangements should be such that the preferences of the citizens have the utmost influence on government politics and policies. Sensible democracy, complementing representative decisions with occasional popular votes, seems to meet this criterion. But it depends on additional specificities of the institutions whether the optimum influence of citizens can be realised, and sensible democracy has many forms. Talcing the Swiss case first, we observe a much higher mutual interdependence between representative and direct democratic procedures. The referendum challenge enforces legislation by negotiation and power-sharing. As discussed in Chapter 3, proportional representation can however devalue elections. As to the responsiveness and sensibility of government, there may be a trade-off between elections and voting: Swiss citizens may lose in 'programmatic control' through elections what they have won in 'issue control' through direct democracy. Thus empirical evidence casts some doubts on whether any combination of direct democracy and representative government can always give citizens optimum influence. Second, there may be other models. Fritz Scharpf, in his Democratic Theory, provides some strong arguments in support of the idea that enhancing participation in practice leads to a group pluralism that favours the status quo of the haves and eliminates basic reform issues that the have-nots need most. He therefore proposes a model that maximises voters' preferences through elections, the simplest and socially least-discriminating mechanism. According to Scharpf, the system most responsive to voters' preferences for structural reform is given by a two-party parliamentary democracy sensitive to small electoral changes, with enough power to overrule resistance by pluralist interest groups. Consequently Scharpf puts priority for enhancing participation not in the field of political institu-tions but in the field of society and economy.

    4.1.3.4 Perspectives

    Despite its deficiencies, the model of sensible democracy can improve representative government. From a normative point of view it can be considered a form of advanced democracy. In many European countries, populist movements, dissatisfied with the lack of responsiveness of government and profiting from the individualistic trend in social value changes, urge an enhancement of political participation. They can put their trust in aspects of direct democracy in Switzerland and the USA that have been shown to work. In East European countries, we find proponents of direct democracy experiencing a very different situation: having to go down the difficult path of developing a civic culture, democracy and a market economy all at the same time. Here, as well as for other developing countries, it would be difficult to decide whether sensible democracy is the best model. In the USA as well as in Switzerland, the devices of direct democracy were developed under different and specific political and cultural conditions and under less stressful economic conditions.

    In countries such as the USA and Switzerland, direct democracy has become an irreversible part of political culture. Yet it can be developed further. Some of the deficiencies in the devices of direct democracy can be eliminated, and new devices such as 'teledemocracy could change or facilitate popular participation in the twenty-first century. On the other hand, direct democracy has so far been limited to a small territorial base. As it is not known whether direct democracy would work at the national level in the USA or at the comparable supranational level of the European Community, the idea may be regarded by many with scepticism. Is direct democracy the most vulnerable part of democracy in large countries because of increasing manipulation by big money and the mass media? Or is direct democracy an appropriate way to make central government more responsive? Some people in Switzerland are convinced of the latter. They are considering the possibility of transferring the popular initiative to EC level and have established networks with protagonists from other countries.

    It would be wrong, however, to see more participation as the only means of improving democracy, or to hope that direct democracy will provide the answer to all problems of democracy. Governing also always implies making decisions for groups and interests which cannot be democratically represented and which cannot adequately participate. Decisions about the education system, for instance, mostly affect young people under the age of majority but they are made by adults. Many social reforms, such as of criminal law or psychiatry, need the advocacy of professionals, journalists and other members of an 'active public'. Most importantly, industralised societies have to take account of future generations. We are consuming in a few decades natural resources that took millions of years to develop. Energy consumption, especially in developed countries, risks destroying the natural climatic equilibrium worldwide. Such long-term effects of industrial activity are neither integrated into the price system of the market nor taken care of in today's democratic procedure. Can we think of finding democratic majorities for decisions renouncing the short-term advantages of most voters in favour of long-term advantages for a future generation? Under what kind of societal structures and values could we hope to have such communitarian and enlightened behaviour? Democratic theory and practice have to face up to such issues. It would be an illusion, however, to believe that direct citizen participation is the key to resolving all these problems of democracy. Swiss theorists -- Richard Baumlin, Raimund Germann, Rene Rhinow and Peter Saladin for instance -- are aware of it.30

    4.2 FEDERALISM

    4.2.1 The Essentials of Federalist Institutions

    We have considered federalism in Switzerland as an institutional arrangement that has enabled national unity while maintaining cantonal and regional autonomy. This may be a first approximation of most existing federal systems. Ivo Duchacek, the author of Comparative Federalism, Nations and Men, put it in the following words: 'What water is for fish, the federal system is for the territorial communities that desire to manage their affairs independently (near sovereignly) yet within the confines of an all-inclusive national whole'.31 Federalism is therefore a political answer to provide a common biosphere for segmented parts of a larger population. Yet it is an answer to territorial segmentation of a society, and it is responsive to the cultural autonomy of language, ethnicity and so on only to the degree that these cultures coincide with the geographical boundaries of the territorial communities. The trout swimming in a school of pike is not protected against being eaten. There is, therefore, a fundamental difference from plural democracy. While political pluralism also aims at respecting societal diversity and segmentation, it has no connotation for territorial boundaries.

    What distinguishes ferderalist systems in the universe of national states, when we find a large spectrum ranging from unitary systems like that of France, to loose confederations or treaty-like federacies (USA-Puerto Rico) and leagues (the Arab League)? On the basis of his comparative work on federalism, Duchacek finds the following six yardsticks most important:

    1. Indestructible identity and autonomy of the territorial components;
    2. Their residual and significant power;
    3. Equal or favorably weighted representation of unequal units;
    4. Their decisive participation in amending the constitution;
    5. Independent sphere of central authority;
    6. Immunity against secession (that is a permanent commitment to build and maintain a federal "union" in contradistinction to a confederal system which lacks such a commitment).32
    Commonly, the first five criteria are realised as part of the constitutional framework -- as we have seen in Chapter 2 for Switzerland. The sixth yardstick, however, tells us that federalism is more than a constitutional characteristic used to divide up governmental powers. It refers to part of the political culture, of the will of a society to constitute a political nation or state. Recent secessions of the Yugoslav regions and the republics of the Soviet Union show that this political commitment can evaporate if a central government loses its power and control to centrifugal forces.

    Federalism is thus typical of societies where territorial segmentation has led to political division between forces preferring centralisation or decentralisation. But this dimension is not as clear and distinctive as it seems. A first ambiguity lies in the word 'federalism', which is sometimes connoted with 'centralisation', as in Anglo-Saxon cultures, but is sometimes a password for decentralising forces, as in Germany. However it is not just a question of semantics -- federalism itself is fundamentally ambiguous. At the moment, when several territorial entities create a common government they give up part of their sovereignty -- and this process is not only unifying but centralising. Once the central government is created, the problem of living federalism may well be to guarantee the territorial autonomy of the components, their differences and therefore their relative independence from each other. As Daniel Elazar puts it: 'Federalizing does involve both the creation and maintenance of unity and the diffusion of power in the name of diversity'. Moreover federalism is a concept of non-centralisation, whereas decentralisation applies to unitary systems that delegate power to territorial segments (as France did to its departements in the 1980s).34

    4.2.2 Federalism: A Structure, a Process and a Political Culture

    So far we have considered federalism mainly as an institutional structure, or even as a constitutional framework. Scholars comparing different federal systems all over the world found the institutional scheme useful. But at the same time they detected its limits: 'many polities with federal structures were not at all federal in practice -- the structures masked a centralised concentration of power that stood in direct contradiction to the federal principle'. Meanwhile we find prominent examples like the Soviet Union or Yugoslavia which have ended in implosion or civil war: whereas the concentration of power of these one-party regimes was well known, most observers underestimated the fact that this centralised power also kept together different territorial units with different histories and cultures -- artificially, we may say in retrospect, but under structures that were legally as 'federal' as those of the USA and Switzerland.

    Evidently federalism is more than a structure. For Switzerland, we have found that federal lawmaking is accompanied by a kind of 'hearing' before the cantons. If their reaction to a proposed bill is negative, the federal authorities drop the project or modify it until a solution satisfactory to the cantons is found. And even if the federal court has extensive constitutional power to discipline cantons or municipalities, it is extremely reluctant to intervene in their decisions if the latters' autonomy would thereby be restricted. The federal authorities often do not exercise all the powers they have, and when dealing with the cantons and the communes, use their competences with caution. Instead of deciding unilaterally, federal authorities negotiate, and respect the cantons or communes as equivalent partners. This kind of procedure has developed as a practice based on the advantages of 'factual integration', or the necessity to cooperate. The process of accommodation or mutual agreement between federal, cantonal and communal authorities has become an element of political culture, mostly informal, and just occasionally prescribed as a legal procedure.

    Scholars such as Daniel Elazar insist that federalism is as much a process as a structure. Figure 4.1 presents the situation of different federal and non-federal countries in the two dimensions of structure and process.

    Taking both dimensions into consideration provides a more realistic picture of the variety of federalism. Elazar's comparative work shows that there are additional dimensions -- such as the coincidence of social and political unity and diversity -- which can describe and help to explain the rich varieties of federalism. But whereas we know much about institutional structures, the characteristics of political processes are not easy to grasp. They are subject to change and variety within the same polity. In Switzerland, which in Elazar's assessment ranks high in federal structure and process, not all decisions of central government reflect the same respect for regional or local autonomy. Raimund Germann and Jürg Steiner give empirical evidence for a more 'federal' or 'unitary' bias in Swiss expert commissions, depending on subject and composition.36 This coincides with the observation of the large differences that exist between the USA and Switzerland, even though both figure at the high end of federalism: in Chapter 2 it was mentioned that Swiss federalism is aimed at equal opportunity in all regions and at equalising policies among the municipalities -- US federalism is not. I attributed this difference between solidarity and competition in federalism to differences of political culture and mentality. I would argue, therefore, that there is no common model of federalism, but a rich variety that depends not only on political structures and processes but on cultural variety and the socioeconomic problems a society has to resolve.

    4.2.3 Modern Meanings of Federalism

    4.2.3.1 Cultural autonomy and difference

    The case of Switzerland is instructive for the realisation of political unity whilst maintaining cultural diversity: the 26 cantons, with their different cultures, languages and religions, most of them having enjoyed centuries of political autonomy, were able to create a modern territorial state. Without federalism and its principle of dividing power between the new central government and the cantonal authorities, and without the federal promise to maintain regional differences and autonomy, this historical process of the nineteenth century would not have resulted in successful nation-building. Meanwhile religious differences have faded. And, even if we can still distinguish German-, French- and Italian-speaking cantons, the language boundaries, which never did coincide entirely with cantonal ones have been penetrated by the electronic and print media and become more fluid. Switzerland today is a comparatively homogeneous society. But the Swiss would never dream of giving up their federalism. Despite complaints about federal particularities that may sometimes become obsolete or troblesome, the Swiss like the formal autonomy of their 26 cantons and 3000 municipalities, which in many respects may be active and to the foreign observer may appear to be an institutional luxury in a country of just 6.9 million inhabitants.

    Perhaps it was the federal experience itself that shaped a strong preference for 'small government' and the idea of subsidiarity: central government should not meddle in things that the cantons are capable of doing themselves and the cantons should not bother with problems that the municipalities can handle. However subsidiarity can lead to too small solutions, because the lowest federal level defines what the problem is. If the lack of coordination, and the refusal of necessary centralisation is sometimes deplored, it offers opportunities for living 'differently', and for giving regional tradition and culture additional backing by having their own governmental regulations, services and facilities. It can even mean indifference to neighbours, which considerably reduces conflicts. Political institutions are not only rooted in and adapted to specific cultural needs, they are part of the social culture. Some say the Swiss feel Swiss only when abroad -- when at home they are Zürcher, Genevois or Nidwaldner. Nationalism in the sense of exaggerated pride in a one and chosen people, its language or superiority, is not possible: between regional culture and awareness of the four linguistic groups the Swiss are part of a greater, international culture of French-, German- and Italian-speakers.

    I think these connotations of a federalist culture go beyond the case of Switzerland and are meaningful in today's world. The process of international development and modernisation is, in the first instance, a clash between worldwide penetration through capitalistic enterprises seeking new markets on the one hand, and subsistent local economies and cultures on the other. The intermediate structures of government in many developing countries have not found solutions for dealing with the inevitable conflicts. Above all, young democratic regimes, if seduced by short-term chances of centralisation or a charismatic concentration of power, fail to combine selective economic modernisation with selective backing of local traditions and cultures. In the eyes of many experts, the effective combining of economic and social modernisation at regional level is a key requirement for successful development. Federal structures can help in this. Federal institutions are simple and can be shaped by a robust constitutional charter. They can already be found in developing countries, especially in those made up of historical territorial segments. However, the working of federalism as a process and the development of regional political cultures face considerable difficulties, as case studies from African countries illustrate.38

    4.2.3.2 Federalism and democracy

    When discussing Swiss federalism in Chapter 2 we detected a contradiction: democracy, basically, is majority rule founded on the number of votes cast, each vote having equal weight, whereas federalism, when protecting territorial segments and its minorities, implies equal or weighted representation of uneven units. A common pattern to harmonise the two modes is bicameralism: government proposals have to be voted on in two parliamentary chambers, one representing the people, the other the member states, or the peerage in the case of Britain. Yet there are many ways to proceed. While taking part in the deliberation of all federal law, Germany's Bundesrat has full decision-making powers only in matters which have certain consequences for its Länder, and it is composed of government representatives of the member states. Switzerland's polity requires double majorities in parliament and a popular vote for any amendment to the constitution, whereas ratification of amendments to the US constitution proposed by two-thirds majorities of Congress relies on individually organised procedures of the states, where a majority of three quarters is required. Yet in all cases important central government proposals have to find a double -- or compound -- majority.

    Inevitably the protection of territorial minorities leads to a distortion of the principle of equal rights in a democracy. The votes of individuals or representatives of member states with a small population are weighted more heavily than those of large member states. They can organise a veto to block democratic majorities. For Switzerland, where cantonal population size varies in a ratio of 1:34, we have already discussed the implications of the theoretical veto power of the smallest member-states, who represent just 9 per cent of the population (see Chapter 2). In other countries, such as the USA, with similar population differences between its units, the consequences may be less important because a division between large and small states is unlikely to happen. But there is no doubt that federalism, with its compound majorities, implies a compromise with the democratic principle of equally weighted votes.

    Federalism has, however, two main advantages that can compensate for this cost. First, when conflicts arise federalism is a constraint that 'forces' democratic majorities to bargain with federal minorities, and therefore it encourages constructive innovation. Theoretically, this is a one-way street that is open only in situations where the democratic majority wants to act against federal minorities insisting on maintaining the status quo. In practice, however, the reverse has applied in Switzerland too. Minorities of cantons may introduce innovations within their boundaries for which majorities at the federal level would not be found. Later, when the innovation proves successful at cantonal level, the innovation is accepted at central government level. Federalism is therefore not only an institution 'forcing' negotiation to take place, but one that provides opportunities for social learning.

    Second, democratic costs of federalism at the constituent central level can be compensated for by democratic gains in the states. In fact democratic federations are frequently conceived as multi-level democracies whose constitution provides not only autonomy but also prescribes the same standards of institutional democracy for their member states. If the internal division of power and the political autonomy of the territorial segments are accompanied by democratic institutions -- the election of officials, legislature and so on -- voters' preferences have a much greater significance. Not only can voters elect the authorities of different levels, but they can vote for different parties at different levels. The frequency of elections provides citizens as well as authorities with permanent information on the popularity of the ruling majority. This phenomenon can be particularly well-observed in Germany, where 21 Länder governments are elected during one term of the federal government. Changes of power in parliamentary democracies often make their way up and down the federal levels. Federalism can thus lead to more responsive democracy.

    4.2.3.3 The territorial state - at once too large and too small

    There are those who say that most present-day states are too small to handle the problems of society because the economy is now operating in a worldwide market. Fundamental questions such as national security, the environment, inequalities between poor and rich nations are less and less capable of being resolved at national level. Due to this phenomenon, the territorial state loses its importance in favour of international and supranational organisations or confederations such as the European Community. On the other hand there are those who say that national states are too large. In their view, many national governments have become small-brained, heavy dinosaurs irresponsive to their citizens' needs and unable to cope with cultural, regional or social variety.39

    The question of the size of a territorial state seems to be especially crucial today, when we observe such contradictory processes as political integration in Western Europe but disintegration in Eastern Europe and the Third World. The fact is, however, that the question of 'adequate size' of a territorial state has been controversial throughout history. And it is controversial in small as well as in large states. Evidently we are unable to define a theoretical 'optimal size' because this depends on the 'changing size' of the problems for which we expect national governments to be responsible. Finally, human civilisation at the moment is subject to contradiction: market-oriented economics leads to worldwide interdependence, homogenisation and competition (and corresponding potentials for conflict), whereas the survival of many cultural patterns depends solely on autonomy and difference at regional and local levels.

    The case of Switzerland illustrates well the contribution of federalism to this question. The Swiss state, as described in Chapter 2, originated because of problem with size: the cantons, in the middle of the nineteenth century, were too small for their individual independence to be guaranteed, and they were in need of a larger, common economic market. Contrary to most mergers of states, the creation of the Swiss state through majority decision by the cantons of the old confederation was relatively peaceful and did not imply the annexation of any of its territorial units. In all but two cantons the people had their say in unification.40 By today's standards of self-determination we could object that this process let the majority -- not the unanimous -- principle suffice. Yet institutional federalism permitted not only the formulation of a political compromise between unification and non-centralisation, but a differentiating answer as to how to handle which problems by which size of government. Thus from the very beginning the national-state was limited by the division of power between central, cantonal and local government. Moreover the division of power is flexible and free to evolve: if the size of a cantonal government seems to have become inadequate, it can delegate some of its power to the central or local level. Moreover political federalism, as I have tried to illustrate in Chapter 2, in Switzerland allowed a sense of the growing interrelations between small and large-scale aspects of the same problem to develop.

    The dynamic model of the process of federalisation seems to provide answers to many of the questions relating to the adequate size of a government. It is a model that is adaptable to changes in the tasks of central government according to the preferences of the member states. At the beginning there can be minimal powers of a central government carrying out few tasks of common interest. This could be, in a generation or so, the way for some regions of former Yugoslavia or some republics of the former Soviet Union if they feel there to be economic advantages in a new union. Federalisation, then, can provide the shell surrounding the cultural autonomies and differences mentioned above. This was the Swiss experience, but it has also been the experience during European integration to date. Under the principle of subsidiarity and non-centralisation, the European Community has chosen federalisation as a long-term solution. The creation of a common market has provided advantages to the national economies of EC members and therefore has permitted differently scaled problems to be dealt with, yet the broad cultural and political diversity of the European countries has so far not suffered.

    Yet there are two fundamental objections. First, can people identify with larger and smaller levels of government at the same time? Despite successful historical examples, such as the USA and Switzerland, my answer would be rather cautious. Today, we are witnessing a surge of nationalism, a striving for the establishment of small states based on one language, religion and culture, which for many seems to be a much more attractive and manageable idea than federalism. Whereas new nationalism may be reductionist and end in disillusion, federalisation has to cope with the difficulty that it is merely a 'rational' concept. Its realisation depends on specific political constellations which need time to emerge: a collective identity while maintaining different territorial dimensions of culture and history, and political consciousness of the values of both segmentation and unification.

    Second, federalisation creates new political actors. Created as a federation, the USA two hundred years later has become a superpower, and today some Europeans would like to see federalisation as a means to gain economic and political influence. Federalisation thus creates new actors who can gain advantages over states that do not federalise. Are equal international relations and world peace better served by a more homogeneous grouping of smaller states, or by the peacekeeping influence of one or more federal superpowers over the rest of the world? We do not know. Yet modern history is characterised not only by unification, but also by secession.

    4.2.3.4 The question of secession

    At a congress of East European and Swiss scholars of constitutional law held in Lausanne in 1990, one unforeseen issue dominated the discussions: how may a canton secede from the Swiss federation? Participants from Lithuania, the Ukraine, Croatia and other regions, eager to obtain advice on the then emerging desire for national autonomy, were somewhat disappointed to hear that neither the Swiss constitution nor law scholars in Switzerland had thought about the question of secession. Meanwhile, history has provided its own answers, which are as in former Yugoslavia, belligerent and destructive. The question however remains important: should there be a 'right' to secede, what should be its procedure, and what would be its consequences?

    First, the question of secession sheds some light on the very nature of federalism. The federal polity gives its components 'indestructible identity and autonomy', but it is at the same time conceived as a permanent union -- in 'contradistinction to a confederal system which lacks such commitment' (Duchacek, 1985). Therefore it is clearly an arrangement to avoid secession through providing territorial units with the utmost autonomy and by limiting the power of a central, but lasting, government. Federalism, in historical perspective, is successful when it transforms a legal arrangement into a commitment felt by the citizens, thus rendering the question of secession obsolete.

    But this historical process can fail. Cultural segments may recall ancient dreams of independence that go beyond federal autonomy, and there are many reasons for such dreams. Also, there may be territorial segments that are systematically marginalised, which can have tragic consequences. Instead of shaping a collective memory of a happy pluralist experience, the passing of time provides undeniable 'proof of discrimination, creating alienation and justifying hatred among different groups.41 Also in federations, decisions of central government may turn into zero-sum games: a gain for one region being perceived as a loss for another. The zero-sum game can cumulate in questions of the economy, language, religion and culture and then lead to escalating conflicts. In that case, a territorial minority may seek self-determination and secession, whereas a majority of citizens may find it justified that their national government should defend the integrity of the federation against the secessionist region or member state. In this situation, both sides may feel the need for procedures designed to bring about a peaceful solution.

    Thus it may not be absurd to formulate future secession rules. Two questions would have to be answered. First, under what circumstances should a federation be obliged to let one of its members go? If any member is able to quit at any time, the federation cannot function. If the decision has to be made unanimously by all members, the rules may be irrelevant because secession may become impossible. Therefore the answer must lie somewhere in between. Second, who should have the right to claim secession? This question may be crucial because within the boundaries of a secessionist member-state we may find a minority who would like to stay within the federation. Here the case of the Jura region separating from the Bern canton is instructive. As described in Chapter 2, the population of every district of the region was given the right to determine whether to stay with the Bern canton or to become a member of the new Jura canton. Thus it was the wishes of each minority that defined the territorial boundaries of secession. The Jura region was cut into two parts -- one remaining with the old canton, the other founding its own canton. The problem remains unresolved in the eyes of the irredentist forces who wanted to unite the whole region under the new Jura canton. But the division prevented the creation of a new minority problem: the minority that wanted to stay with the old canton was not overruled and was given the same right of self-determination as the separatist majority.

    This leads us to an important conclusion: in most cases, territorial secession gives rise to as many new minority problems as it claims to resolve. This is inevitable where territorial segmentation is not perfect. The Czechoslovak 'divorce', for instance, was sought by the Slovak minority wishing to free itself of Czech majority rule, which was softened by forms of federalism only after 1968. But on Slovak territory today we find a minority of about 11 per cent Hungarians among the 5.3 million Slovaks, as well as other important minorities such as Czechs, Russians, Ukranians, Romanys and so on. As will be suggested below, the now popular idea of a national state based on one language or culture -- the reason for many secession claims -- is ill-founded.

    Yet, if secession creates new minority problems, it can nonetheless still happen. Rules for secession -- like those applied to Jura -- may be a counterbalance for minorities within secessionist territories. If installed well ahead of the time when a potential conflict breaks out, rules of secession could even help to prevent real secession. Openly and clearly specifying the conditions of eventual secession may strengthen the position of sensitive territorial minorities and given them more bargaining power. This can lead to more cooperative processes in the federal polity, which is in the interest of the majority as well.

    4.2.4 Non-Territorial Federalism

    The idea of a territorial state that has exclusive power over all the people living within its boundaries is relatively recent. The older concept of political power was based more on the idea of personality: 'For instance, following the Germanic invasions of various provinces of the Roman Empire, there lived -- side by side in the same territory and under the sway of the same "barbarian" ruler -- ex-Roman citizens and members of one of the Germanic tribal confederations (such as Goths, Vandals, Burgundians, Franks, and Lombards). Yet in most cases, and over a considerable period of time, the two groups remained distinct entities and, what mattered, before the law was who the defendant was, not where he was living. Usually, Romans were judged by Roman law and the new Germanic settlers by their old Germanic customary law. Both groups regarded this practice as proper and, indeed, as a precious safeguard of their respective rights and privileges'.42

    With industrialisation and the development of bureaucratic statehood, the West European countries led the way in becoming territorial states. Under the principle of ius soli, the territorial state claims all jurisdiction over its citizens -- whatever their origin may be. Earlier I described part of this evolution in Switzerland. In its religiously segmented society of the nineteenth century marriages and education were regulated and organised separately for Protestants and Catholics by their churches. Whereas the label 'State Church' has not completely disappeared, the churches have mostly lost their status as actors in public affairs in favour of the confessionally neutral state which provides for Protestant and Catholic citizens alike and under the same laws.

    Yet the principle of ius sanguinis has not completely disappeared. In the last days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Karl Renner and Otto Bauer proposed forms of non-territorial or corporate federalism to resolve the nationalities problem: 'Within each region of self-government, the national minorities shall form corporate entities with public judicial status, enjoying full autonomy in caring for the education of the national minority concerned, as well as in extending legal assistance to their co-nationals vis-avis the bureaucracy and the courts'.43 Corporate federalism was introduced for cultural minorities in Estonia in 1925, in Cyprus under the 1960 constitution and lately for Burmese minorities. The most prominent example, however, is Belgium where federalisation since 1970 has taken territorial and corporate forms as well. The country is divided into the regions of Flanders, Wallonia and Brussels. But Belgium is also divided into a Flemish-speaking community (comprising both the geographically defined area of Flanders and the corporately defined group of Flemish speakers in Brussels), a French-speaking community (comprising both the region of Wallonia and Francophone Bruxellois) and a German-speaking community (Eupen/Malmedy).

    Thus corporate federalism allows coexistence between cultural minorities living in the same territory. It has similarities with 'pillarisation', the vertical organisation of societal segmentation, as was the case, for instance with Catholics and Protestants in the (centralised) Netherlands until the 1970s. Corporate federalism has the advantage of avoiding the territorial minority problems encountered in territorial federalism. The question is, however, how far can pluralism of corporate federalism go when leaving state power to cultural minorities? In the history of public education in Switzerland we can see differences arising from pluralism. Whereas public education in many bilingual cantons is provided for the majority as well as the minority community, religious segmentation as part of corporate federalism has now disappeared. The reasons for this are not only to be found in the diminishing importance of the religious divide, but also in the development of common values. Whilst multilinguism in Switzerland is considered 'normal', it is not likely that people would be willing to support corporate religious schools that reject, say, principles of democracy or sex equality in education.

    4.3 POWER-SHARING AND CONSOCIATIONAL DEMOCRACY

    4.3.1 Majoritarian and Consensus Democracy: A Comparison

    If there is a continuous thread in Swiss political history it is probably the desire to prevent winners from taking all, leaving losers with nothing -- or in other words, power-sharing. It is found in the constitution, in the federalist bargain between Protestants and Catholics, in the compromise between centralists and cantonalists, and in the development of proportional representation for the election of parliament, then of the Federal Council, of bureaucracies and commissions. All this gives minorities the opportunity to participate. The lawmaking political elites, in order to minimise referenda risks, try to arrive at a political compromise that satisfies all important political groups. Power-sharing provided the solution to the problem of integrating a heterogeneous, multicultural society by political means. It has led to a type of democracy different from others.

    The combining of these elements of power-sharing, which avoids alternating government and opposition forces, may be unique to Switzerland, but power-sharing, as a mode of democracy different from majority rule, is not. Elements of 'consociational democracy', 'consensus government', and politics by 'mutual or amicable agreement' can be observed in many countries as an alternative to majority rule. Arend Lijphart, in his comparative study of 22 countries,45 has tried to distinguish between majoritarian and consensus democracies using the following criteria:

    The Majoritarian (Westminster) Model:

    1. Concentration of executive power: one-party and bare-majority cabinets
    2. Fusion of power and cabinet dominance
    3. Unicameralism or asymmetric bicameralism
    4. Two-party system
    5. One-dimensional party system
    6. Plurality system of elections
    7. Unitary and centralized government
    8. Unwritten constitution and parliamentary sovereignty
    9. Representative democracy

    The Consensus Model:

    1. Executive power-sharing: grand coalitions
    2. Separation of powers, formal and informal
    3. Balanced bicameralism and minority representation
    4. Multiparty system
    5. Multidimensional party system
    6. Proportional representation
    7. Territorial and nonterritorial federalism and decentralisation
    8. Written constitution and minority veto.

    The two models -- like my own attempt in Chapter 3 -- presuppose coherence of the political institutions. The majoritarian model, for which Great Britain and New Zealand are good approximations, favours the logic of majority rule in all its elements: competitive elections between only two parties based on one major political division lead to clear parliamentary majorities. The winner-takes-all rule makes parliamentary majorities sensitive to even small changes in the electorate's preferences, and favours alternating government and opposition roles if the two parties are of similar size. Because of its parliamentary majority the executive cabinet is empowered to realise its policy programme, as long as there is no vote of no confidence, which may necessitate resignation or a new election. Power is concentrated among the parliamentary majority and the cabinet. There are few constitutional or judicial constraints, minority vetoes or federalist rules of 'compound majority'. It is a model that corresponds to relatively homogeneous societies. A similar coherence of elements, but with the opposite goal of integrating fragmented minorities by participation and negotiation, is found in the consensus model of Switzerland.

    Through empirical tests, Lijphart has investigated 22 cases of how the contrasting models of consensus and majoritarian democracy correspond to the reality. Three of the elements -- bicameralism, decentralisation and a written constitution with minority rights -- refer to federalism. As expected, power-sharing or consensus democracy in many countries depends on structures of federalism, whereas the other elements favour majoritarian rule, as is the case for the USA, Germany and Canada. In other countries, such as Denmark and Israel, Lijphart found only these characteristics of power-sharing that are not related to federalism: multiparty systems with cleavages resulting from cultural fragmentation, proportional representation, grand coalition cabinets designed to integrate different political forces, and division of power between cabinet and parliament. Thus consensus democracy has two dimensions: the more 'structural' and durable dimension of federalism, and the more 'procedural' and variable dimension of consociationalism. Lijphart groups the 22 countries into clusters (Table 4.2).

    Further comparative work by others shows that the procedural element of consociationalism is more subject to change than the structural element of federalism.46 Lijphart's clusters -- obtained from empirical data of 1945-80 -- therefore present a rough and global image that does not consider the changes in consociationalism that have occurred in Belgium for instance. It shows, however, that the consensual mode of democracy is present in many democracies, both in unitary and federalist systems, and that there is a 'finely graded continuum from amicable agreement to majority rule'.47

    4.3.2 Democratic Power-Sharing: a Key to Resolving Conflicts in Multicultural Societies

    The first three chapters of this book illustrated what political power-sharing has done for Switzerland: it has helped to create a federation of cantons that differ in history and size, and it was the key element in integrating a people following two religions and speaking four languages. Later it provided the Swiss with a collective identity strong enough to defend their political independence in periods of war in Europe, and it helped to overcome some economic class struggles. Power-sharing -- considered by political scientists as the most appropriate form of democracy for pluralist or segmented societies -- has even turned Switzerland into a relatively homogeneous society, in spite of its different languages. From such a perspective, the 'paradigmatic case of political integration' (Deutsch, 1976) of Switzerland has been an overwhelming success. But perhaps the time has come to renounce consociational democracy and adopt a more majoritarian rule, as discussed at the end of Chapter 3, making Switzerland more responsive to innovation and structural changes which, in the eyes of those who advocate the country's inclusion in European integration, are urgently required.

    On the worldwide level, however, consensus democracy, as a model for political integration, is becoming more and more desirable. Today, a large majority of the 180 countries considered as sovereign states constitute multicultural societies. Moreover industralisation and market-oriented economies have led to a worldwide exchange of goods, services and capital. But this has also led to the intertwining and confrontation of different cultures which once were quite separated. Millions of refugees migrating within the Third World or from the Third World to the industrialised countries has created new minority problems. In the new order of worldwide liberalisation and open markets, if the money does not go to the poor, the poor go where the money is. Therefore multicultural coexistence is crucial for peace. However it seems that the real problems of integrating people from different ethnic and cultural backgrounds, or of dealing with religious and linguistic minorities within boundaries of existing nations, too often remain unresolved in countries all over the world. Problems relating to cultural differences continue in many industrialised countries, as we see with blacks in the USA, Catholics in Northern Ireland and French-speakers in Canada. Conflicts between ethnic groups are a main factor in failure to modernise, national disintegration or war in Africa and in the Far and Middle East. With the collapse of the communist regime in the Soviet Union, the oppression of ethnic minorities has ended. But the new independent republics are faced with similar problems of multicultural coexistence, as well as having to develop their economies and democracies.

    In all these situations more, or better, political integration is needed. But is power-sharing or consensus democracy appropriate for the problems of multicultural coexistence or integration, and why?

    Modern majoritarian democracy was invented and first practised by white Anglo-Saxon Protestants. They shared common cultural values and beliefs and spoke a common language. On this basis majoritarian democracy is an adequate decision-making procedure. Even concerning the most vital economic or social questions it can be hoped that deliberations will be open and that government decisions will be taken in the interest of all. However if decisions are bad, the opposition has a chance to become the majority and to do better because in the competition between left- and right-wing governments, voters may value the successes of both. So, voters' preferences for a left- or right-wing government, as well as political majorities and governmental policies, are open to change.

    In multicultural societies, however, majoritarian democracy may encounter serious difficulties. Cultural values, beliefs and languages are not only heterogeneous, but may lead to different political preferences that do not change: parents can not opt out of sending their children to schools held in their own language, or discard their religious beliefs, without giving up part of their cultural identity. Individuals or groups can not 'free' themselves from their cultural heritage through democratic deliberation. For good reasons, therefore, the fundamental values of modern democracy set limits on political power: minorities are protected by constitutional rights against majority decisions that take away their freedoms, privacy or other fundamental rights. Personal freedoms, therefore, in a multicultural society, should lead to the recognition and equal treatment of all cultural minorities. This implies also that the state and its organisation should be highly impartial with respect to minority and majority cultures. But despite democratic pluralism, democratic majorities are not able to escape their cultural roots. Their decisions are shaped by their own values, and conflicts of values and freedoms with minorities are inevitable. In many such situations cultural minorities cannot put much hope in majoritarian democracy. Protestants in the Republic of Ireland and French-speakers in Canada are not likely to become a majority. If the predominant cultural majority is large enough, it will not have to take into account the preferences of the minority. In the worst case, a majority government's chances of reelection under the winner-takes-all rule may even increase if it offers special advantages to its own cultural group while discriminating against the minority. If majoritarian democracy does not offer a change of power it may suffer from two deficiencies: despite democratic elections, the government may fail to take into account the needs and preferences of a cultural minority, and the majority rule may be alienating for those cultural segments which find themselves always in a minority position.

    Consensus democracy or power-sharing, on the other hand, can avoid such situations. The various elements of the consensus model all favour peaceful coexistence and conflict management for multicultural societies On an abstract level, which draws particularly from Switzerland's experience, I would list the most important points as follows:

    1. Consensus democracy avoids majority decisions thanks to negotiation and compromise. Consensus democracy, on the whole, avoids alienating majority positions and decisions. It seeks negotiation and compromise, which are particularly important in matters relating to cultural minorities. Consensus democracy and the use of the institutional mechanisms of power-sharing are possible as long as society values social integration and peaceful coexistence between different cultures more highly than cultural hegemony. Preference for social integration is more likely if the costs of cultural conflicts and disintegration are high, if there is pressure from outside, and if cooperation offers more advantages to all than political hegemony by one cultural group.
    2. Consensus democracy rejects the idea of the hegemonic 'nation-state' and avoids its fallacies. Consensus democracy renounces hegemony, the defence or fostering of one particular cultural heritage and the idea of a nation-state based on one language, religion or culture. This may be difficult for societies which, in a time of accelerating modernisation, would like to rely on safe and lasting values. However values that symbolise a precious good for one cultural segment may be threatening for another segment. In the long run, the peaceful handling of cultural conflicts requires mutual respect among all cultural groups and the development of common intracultural values. Such a collective identity or political culture requires a high degree of indifference or impartiality on the part of state authorities with respect to particular cultural segments.
    3. The development of consensus democracy is a process of social integration that takes time. Consensus democracy accepts slow decision-making rhythms. As we have seen from the case of Switzerland, consensus democracy takes time because it tries to avoid alienation arising from social, cultural or economic conflicts. Political compromise is not always very innovative. But this is not necessarily a disadvantage. Slow but continuous political decisionmaking by compromise takes into account the fact that changes in social values, the development of common values between different cultures and cultural pluralism are processes of social integration. Consensus democracy is sensitive to the fact that the process of social integration cannot be accelerated, and may even be destroyed, by the hegemonic use of power.
    4. Proportional representation has a symbolic value favouring mutual respect between different cultural groups. Proportional representation and executive power-sharing may give self esteem and recognition to minority groups. Executive power-sharing, because of its symbolic value, can be an important first step in a situation where historical discrimination has to be overcome.
    5. Political cooperation between political elites can favour general patterns of intracultural cooperation among different cultural groups. Cooperation in parliamentary and executive decisions is not only a necessary precondition for compromise in political issues. It also leads to a better understanding between different cultural segments and the development of common values. This process may at first be limited to political elites, but it can be followed by trickle-down effects.
    6. Some elements of consensus democracy are robust, and can withstand pressure to change the rules in situations of severe conflict. Federalism, as an element of the consensus model, while restricting the power of central government, can guarantee autonomy for different cultural segments in territorial sub-divisions. Like basic individual rights or statutory minority rights and vetoes, federalism is an institutional mechanism restricting majority rule and majority politics. If these institutional devices become part of constitutional law, they become robust elements of the polity. This means that the rules of the game cannot be changed to suit the occasion.
    7. Consensus democracy provides a chance for, but not a guarantee of, peacemaking in multicultural societies. In theory there are two major arguments against the consensus model of democracy. First, it is said that the political will to share power depends to a great extent on political elites, and that power-sharing can turn into an elitist model of democracy. Second, consensus democracy can be used by hegemonic groups as a veil to hid the real power processes when giving minorities the opportunity to participate but no substantial influence. In this case, which can be observed for instance in the relations between the Jewish majority and the Arab minority in Israel, Ian Lustick speaks of a 'control model' with different characteristics from the consensus model. In our discussion of Switzerland we have found evidence for both arguments: even in a well-consolidated consensus democracy power-sharing does not guarantee proportional influence according to proportional representation, and a 'cartelisation' of power among political elites can develop even in a direct democracy. However, neither argument devalues the consensus model as such. I would simply not overestimate its output performance: the consensus model offers more chances or opportunities than majoritarian democracy for peaceful conflict resolution in multicultural societies, but there is no guarantee for successful integration through mutual adjustment.

    4.3.3 The Key to Successful Power-Sharing: Developing a Democracy Based on the Roots of One's Own Culture

    Arend Lijphart, while developing the theoretical framework of consensus democracy, was convinced that consociationalism offered advantages for stable democracy and conflict management in plural or segmented societies. He was also optimistic about the possibility of introducing structures of power-sharing in any democracy. From the macro-perspective of comparative institutional government, this optimism may be justified. I would insist, however, on the importance of the cultural factor. Institutional models, the experiences of young democracies in the Third World have taught us, cannot be exported or implemented without taking into account the specific cultural patterns of the society concerned. Consensus democracy, as it has been developed in some West European countries, may not even be conceivable in all parts of Europe. For Great Britain, which has to contend with secessionist forces in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, a Swiss mediator would certainly propose a federalist solution. Yet for the British it may be an inconceivable solution because they have no historical experience of federalism, and because the word 'federalism' often has connotations of centralisation.

    Consensus democracy is a concept which implies the simultaneous development of institutions and corresponding social values, and this process must be given time. Nothing could illustrate this better than the case of Switzerland. Democracy and constitutionalism were brought to Switzerland from France and the USA. But parliamentary democracy was never a success - the Swiss transformed it with direct democracy which corresponded more to their social culture of rural or urban communitarianism. Unlike their neighbours, the Swiss were never given the opportunity to create a single-culture nation-state. The only way to keep historically inherited independence was by creating an 'artificial' multicultural state. It was the product of a majority that had to learn to accept the minority. Power-sharing only allowed the development of a common interest and a national identity. The conflict over the separation of state and religion -- one of the main political issues between Protestants and Catholics in the nineteenth century - took more than a hundred years to disappear through the development of pluralist attitudes which eventually led to confessional peace. The difficulties of legislation through mutual adjustment were considerable, and it was only after the Second World War that pluralist negotiation became a success: the various interest groups had had to learn to temper their claims in order to reach compromises that were acceptable to all. Swiss consensus democracy today is an amalgam of complementary political institutions and cultures.

    Switzerland's model of a power-sharing democracy therefore cannot be exported in its entirety. But its history is illustrative, and structures of power-sharing, properly adapted and embedded in specific cultural patterns, could serve in other countries. This process has to be selective. African countries, for instance, are known to have difficulties with multiparty systems because inherited tribal cultures interpret the existence of opposition parties as a sign of weakness in the party in power. On the other hand, the African heritage includes 'palaver' -- extensive discussions avoiding authoritative decisions within the same tribe or group which may resemble negotiated lawmaking in Western democracies. Given their own historical experience, East European countries pinning their hopes on a new nationalism are likely to mistrust political or cultural pluralism. Persisting minority problems and outside pressure or favourable economic development, however, may lead to forms of power-sharing being adopted. Democracy and pluralism are Western ideas developed during capitalist industrialisation, and attempts to export them too often ended in failure. But many societies in the Third World have a communitarian heritage which may, at least on the level of communes, be a precious element in developing a democracy. Many of the countries that are having to deal with economic development, modernisation and democratisation all at once, may have to overcome far more difficulties than Switzerland encountered on its way to multicultural peace. Despite all this, the development of consensus democracy may be necessary, and also possible if multicultural societies draw on appropriate aspects of their own cultures.

    4.4 EPILOGUE: SWITZERLAND'S FUTURE AFTER THE POPULAR VOTE ON THE EUROPEAN ECONOMIC AREA

    On 6 December 1992 the Swiss people, in a popular vote, turned down membership of the European Economic Area (EEA). Whereas the other members of the European Free Trade Association (EFTA) -- Austria, Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden and Lichtenstein -- have decided to become integrated into the EC market and may soon become full EC members, Switzerland, for the time being, has chosen to remain outside. No other political decision since the Second World War has been of such crucial importance to Switzerland than this decision.

    The government's attempt to take part in European integration signalled a fundamental change in Swiss foreign policy. In 1988 the government was still declaring that Switzerland would remain outside the EC. Later it participated in the multilateral EEA negotiations and had to give up its hopes of bilateral arrangements and mechanisms of codecision for EEA-treaty members on future developments of EC law. The Federal Council not only signed the EEA treaty, but in May 1992 even affirmed in Brussels its wish to open negotiations on EC membership. Parliament, most political parties and economic organisations approved the government's policy change.

    This policy change was highly controversial, and the popular vote of December 1992 left behind a divided nation. The support of most political parties and economic organisations was not enough to allow the government's proposition to meet with success in the voting campaign. A heterogeneous coalition of parts of the People's Party, the Green Party, the Automobile Party, the Swiss Democrats and dissidents from other parties concentrated on a very active and sometimes populist anti-EC campaign. With 50.3 per cent of the votes and 16 cantons they succeeded. The most spectacular of the division ran along the language boundaries. All French-speaking cantons voted for the EEA treaty, with majorities of up to 80 per cent, whereas all but two German-speaking cantons voted against, with majorities of up to 74 per cent. Urban regions, and better-educated people were in favour of the treaty, rural areas and lesser-educated people rejected it.

    Whereas the treaty was of immediate economic importance, it's significance for many people went far beyond economics. The referendum, therefore, was a vote on Switzerland's political future and national identity, and it is this question that is now dividing the country.

    On one hand, there were those who saw the decline of the Sonderfall Schweiz (Special Case). Indeed, with the fundamental political changes in Central and Eastern Europe, Switzerland has lost many of the economic privileges of its former, neutral, Sonderfall position. Moreover the EC's offer for an EEA treaty seemed to be a good opportunity to take a first step towards integration: the treaty promised intense economic cooperation without political responsibilities as a full member of the EC. Culturally many Swiss feel 'European' and therefore want to participate in the process of integration. For them the EEA treaty signalled a more open Swiss society.

    On the other hand there were those who still placed great store in Switzerlands Sonderfall. Sceptical about 'big government', foreign influence, international bureaucracies and foreign political engagement, they believed that the country was still strong enough to go it alone. Whilst some businessmen saw economic opportunities in the fact that Switzerland, by remaining outside the EC, could be attractive for US or Japanese capital, ecologists wanted to preserve Switzerland's higher environmental standards. Conservatives feared losing political neutrality, federalism and direct democracy, as well as a genuine Swiss culture free from foreign influence. They fiercely opposed the idea that Switzerland, one day, could become a member of the EC.

    Will Switzerland cling to its Sonderfall identity, which was particularly successful from 1945 to 1988, or will it seek a new identity and become a full EC partner? Inside and outside pressure for integration will continue -- the vote of December 1992 will not be Switzerland's last word on the subject. But nobody knows how much time will be needed to develop a new Swiss identity in the German-speaking cantons. The second uncertainty lies in the fact that nobody knows whether the doors in Brussels will always be open for Switzerland to step in. As we all know, the European integration process itself has its ups and downs.

    For the moment Swiss consensus is shaken, also on several domestic issues such as economic and social policy. This could lead to a polarisation of political parties in Switzerland, to changes in executive power sharing or even an end to large consensus democracy. Some observers do not exclude the possibility of a realignment of the Swiss party system into three main forces: a new national conservative party could draw members from all governmental parties and seek a new clientele with populist preferences; liberal Christian democrats and radicals could merge into a new centre force; social democrats, including the greens, could represent the political left.51 Switzerland, as Karl Deutsch put it 20 years ago, is in a critical situation between 'innovation and stagnation'. The country's future is less certain and political compromise less easy than for a long time in the past.

    Notes and References

    1. David Butler and Austin Ranney (eds), Referendums. A Comparative Study of Practice and Theory (Washington DC: American Enterprise Institute for Public Policy Research, 1978).

    2. I follow roughly the distinctions made by David Butler and Austin Ranney, op. cit., p. 25. My main difference is that I prefer not to mix up the four types of polls with questions of quorum and binding force. In fact, all four types can exist with or without a quorum, and with binding or merely advisory effects on government.

    3. A similar conclusion is drawn by David Butler and Austin Ranney, op. cit. p. 10.

    4. Data are drawn from Thomas E. Cronin, Direct Democracy, The Politics of Initiative, Referendum, and Recall (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1989), pp. 47-59 and Silvano Mockli, 'Direkte Demokratie in Kalifornien,' in Schweiz, Jahrbuch fur politische Wissenschaft, vol. 31 (Bern: Haupt, 1991), pp. 27-44.

    5. Thomas Cronin, op. cit., p. 222.

    6. Andreas Auer, Le referendum et 1'initiative populaire aux Etats-Unis (Basel: Helbling und Lichtenhahn, 1989).

    7. Thomas E. Cronin, op. cit., pp. 224-232.

    8. For empirical evidence for Switzerland see chapter 3 Table 3.3; for the US, Cronin, op. cit., p. 76.

    9. Cronin, op. cit., p. 123.

    10. See: Leonhard Neidhart, Plebiszit und pluralitdre Demokratie, (Bern: Francke, 1970), pp. 238-43.

    11. Cronin, citing Richard Hofstadter, The Age of Reform (New York: Vintage Books, 1955) and Herbert Croly, Progressive Democracy (New York: Macmillan, 1914).

    12. Betty H. Zisk, Money, Media and the Grass Roots: State Ballot Issues and the Electoral Process (Newbury Park, California: Sage Publications, 1987), pp. 90-137; Daniel H. Loewenstein, 'Campaign Spending and Ballot Propositions: Recent Experience, Public Choice Theory, and the First Amendment', UCLA Law Review, vol. 29 (February 1982), pp. 505-641.

    13. See: Walter Kalin, 'Verfassungsgrundsatze der schweiz. Aussenpolitik,' in Zeitschriftfur schweizerisches Recht (1986) zweiter Halbband, pp. 269-72.

    14. For details see Aubert, Traite de droit constitutional Suisse (Neuchatel: Calendes 1967 and 1982), vol III (supplement), pp. 126-7.

    15. Robert A. Dahl, Democracy and its Critics (New Haven/London: Yale University Press, 1989), p. 127.

    16. Cronin, op. cit., p. 13.

    17. Benjamin Barber, Strong Democracy, Participatory Politics for a New Age (Berkeley and London: University of California Press, 1984) (4); Richard Hofstadter, op. cit.; Daniel C. Kramer, Participatory Democracy (Cambridge Mass: Schenkman, 1972); Laura Tallian, Direct Democracy (Los Angeles: People's Lobby, 1977).

    18. Hanna F. Pitkin, 'The Concept of Representation, in Hanna F. Pitkin (ed.) Representation (New York: Artherton Press, 1969), pp. 19ff.

    19. Joseph Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy, (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1942); Anthony Downs, An Economic Theory of Democracy (New York: Harper and Row, 1957).

    20. Barber, op. cit., pp. 179ff.

    21. Cronin, op. cit., pp. 249-51.

    22. Crawford B. Macpherson, The Life and Times of Liberal Democracy (London/New York: Oxford University Press, 1977).

    23. Robert Dahl, Democracy, op. cit., pp. 323ff.

    24. For instance Geoffrey Brennan and Loren E. Lomasky (eds), New Essays in Democratic Thought (Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989). For a different position sometime influencing economic theory see John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1971).

    25. Cronin, op. cit., pp. 251.

    26. For instance Dahl, op. cit., in his final chapter 'Sketches for an Advanced Democratic Country', pp. 328ff.

    27. Fritz Scharpf, Demokratie zwischen Utopie und Anpassung (Konstanz: Universitatsverlag, 1970), pp. 54ff.

    28. See Christopher F. Arterton et al., Telecommunication Technologies and Political Participation (Washington DC: Roosevelt Center for American Policy Studies, 1984); Wolf Linder, Prisca Lanfranchi, Damian Schnyder, and Adrian Vatter, "Teledemokratie" als Mittel der Bürgerbeteiligung', in Bundesamt fur Raumplanung (Hrsg.), Mitwirkungsverfahren und-modelle, Vor-schlagejur eine Mitwirkungspolitik des Bundes nach Art. 4 RPG (Bern 1993), pp. 107-20.

    29. Urs Buess, 'Direkte Demokratie in Europa? - Ein Versuch von unten', in Tagesanzeiger (Zurich), 2 March 1992.

    30. Richard Baumlin, Lebendige oder gebandigte Demokratie (Basel: Z Verlag, 1978); Raimund Germann, Politische Innovation und Verfassungsreform (Bern: Haupt, 1975); Rene Rhinow, 'Grundprobleme der schweizerishcen Demokratie', in Referate und Mitteilungen des schweizerischen Juristenvereins, Heft 2/1984 (Basel: Helbling & Lichtenhahn, 1984); Peter Saladin, Verantwortung als Staatsprinzip (Bern: Haupt, 1984).

    31. Ivo Duchacek, 'Consociational Cradle of Federalism', Publius, The Journal of Federalism, vol. 15, no. 2 (1985) pp. 42.

    32. Duchacek, op. cit., p. 44. Contrary to his earlier work, he finds two criteria marginal (two sets of courts and judicial review), and two criteria controversial (clear division of power and exclusive national control over foreign relations).

    33. Daniel J. Eiazar, 'Federalism and Consociational Regimes', Publius, The Journal of Federalism, vol. 15, no. 2 (1985) p. 23.

    34. Daniel J. Eiazar, American Federalism: A View from the States (New York: Harper and Row, 1984) (3), pp. 2ff.

    35. Daniel J. Eiazar, 'Federalism and Consociational Regimes', op. cit., p. 22.

    36. Raimund Germann and Jürg Steiner, 'Comparing Decision Modes at the Country Level', British Journal of Political Science, vol. 15 (January 1985), pp. 123-26.

    37. G. S. Cheema, and D. A. Rondinelli, Decentralization and Development. Policy Implementation in Developing Countries (Beverly Hills 1983).

    38. For instance L. Adele Jinadu, 'Federalism, The Consociational State, and Ethnic Conflict in Nigeria', Publius, The Journal of Federalism, vol. 15, no. 2 (1985) pp. 7Iff.

    39. For a short account of current discussions in political theory see 'Democracy, the Nation-State and the Global System', in David Held, Political Theory Today (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1991).

    40. In Freiburg and Graubiinden, the decision for the Federal Constitution was taken by the cantonal parliament.

    41. For the interdependence of individual and collective aspects of such conflicts, especially ethnic conflicts, see Milton J. Esman, 'Political and Psychological Factors in Ethnic Conflict', in Joseph V. Montville (ed.) Conflict and Peacemaking in Multiethnic Societies (Lexington and Toronto: Lexington Books, 1990), pp. 14.

    42. Uri Ra'anan, 'The Nation-State Fallacy', in Joseph V. Montville (ed.), Conflict and Peacemaking in Multiethnic Societies (Lexington and Toronto: Lexington Books, 1990), pp. 14.

    43. Otto Bauer, Die Nationalitdtenfrage und die Sozialdemokratie, cited in Uri Ra'anan, op. cit.

    44. See Hanspeter Kriesi, 'Federalism and Pillarization: The Netherlands and Switzerland compared', AP, 1990/4, pp. 433-50.

    45. Arend Lijphart, Democracies. Patterns of Majoritarian and Consensus Government in Twenty-one Countries, (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1984).

    46. For instance Daniel Eiazar, 'Federalism and Consociational Regimes', op. cit., p. 33.

    47. Jiirg Steiner, Amicable Agreement Versus Majority Rule: Conflict Resolution in Switzerland (Chapel Hill: UNC Press, 1974), p. 6.

    48. Kenneth D. McRae, 'Theories of Power-Sharing and Conflict Management,' in Joseph V. Montville, Conflict and Peace-Making, op. cit.

    49. Ian Lustick, Arabs in the Jewish State: Israel's Control of a National Minority (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1980).

    50. Arend Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1977).

    51. This is the perspective of the former secretary general of the Christian Democratic Party, Iwan Rickenbacher, Tagesanzeiger (Zurich), 31 December 1992.

    52. Karl Deutsch, Die Schweiz als paradigmatischer Fall politischer Integration (Bern: Haupt, 1976).