Tag: legislatures

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Evidence on Stage? Comparing committee hearings in the UK House of Commons and German Bundestag

By Marc Geddes.

Parliamentary and legislative committees perform a range of roles, such as the scrutiny of legislation or accountability of government. Increasingly, committees are holding public hearings, which can be really important for MPs to gather relevant knowledge and evidence to support their work and fulfil committee tasks. In recent research, I spent time in the UK House of Commons and German Bundestag and interviewed MPs and staff to get a better understanding of whether committee hearings are important information-gathering tools. Given that these are often official and formal routes for parliaments to listen to stakeholders, these are prestigious and important and can be seen as ‘evidence on stage’.

In the House of Commons, the parliament has two committee systems. For scrutinising legislation, temporary bill committees are made up of 30 or so members, appointed by parliamentary parties, to go through proposed laws via public meetings with an optional evidence-gathering stage. For scrutinising policy and holding government to account, permanent select committees exist to shadow government departments. Made up of small groups of MPs – usually around 11 members – and elected by the party colleagues, they are often independent-minded spaces. Select committees conduct policy scrutiny through inquiries that include open calls for written evidence and public hearings with a variety of witnesses (e.g. scientists, business or trade union leaders, interest groups, etc.). Committee members deliberate in private to identify key conclusions and recommendations, to which government must respond (but is not forced to accept). Analysis has shown that around 40 percent of recommendations are accepted.

In the German parliament, permanent committees mirror government departments (plus some cross-cutting ones, such as a Petitions Committee). Committees are tasked with both examining legislation and with scrutinising policy. Committee size varies depending on the topic, but they are in general much larger than UK committees. For example, the Committee on Work and Social Affairs has 49 members. Members are appointed by parliamentary parties and take on the role of rapporteur, i.e. they are allocated specific portfolios within the committee’s wider remit. For example, in the Committee on Work and Social Affairs, one MP from each party will have responsibility for migration issues, another for pensions, etc. In general, Bundestag committee meetings are private but, especially since the 1980s, they have increasingly made use of public hearings. These can be used to invite experts to give evidence as part of scrutiny of legislative or policy proposals.

At first glance, both parliaments seem reasonably similar. But this masks considerable differences. In the UK, committees are supported by a secretariat of procedural and policy specialists, who write briefing papers for all members, suggest witnesses and analyse written evidence. Witnesses are usually identified on the basis of suggestions from members and especially the committee’s chair, in consultation with the advice from parliamentary officials (including the secretariat but also the House of Commons Library and the Parliamentary Office for Science and Technology). Bundestag committees, meanwhile, are also served by a secretariat, but their role is to offer procedural advice only. Witnesses are instead nominated by parliamentary parties, often via group leaders and rapporteurs, who’s own staff will undertake research and identify experts. The number of witnesses depends on the size of the parliamentary party. Witness lists are published, inclusive of the party that nominated them, so it is fully transparent who invited whom.

The two approaches by the House of Commons and the Bundestag push evidence-gathering in different directions. In the former case, hearings are usually organised in a non-partisan way, especially for select committees. In the latter, given the inbuilt party political considerations, the process sharpens political divisions. These differences are reinforced through other practices. Briefing packs in the House of Commons are produced by the parliamentary administration and shared with all members; these often serve as agendas and give suggestions for issues to probe. Witnesses are often given oral briefing by the inquiry manager so that the witness can adequately prepare. In the Bundestag, briefings are handled by the rapporteur within each parliamentary party, often in close collaboration with the party leadership teams. Witnesses are usually briefed by the relevant party, too, in terms of the kinds of points and questions the party wants to get across.

These dynamics mean that committee hearings in both parliaments operate differently. Questioning in the House of Commons can be very political, but it is rarely directly partisan. Indeed, many hearings – especially with experts – tend to be thematic and open-ended, which may be directed a the panel in general or at specific witnesses, and without time limits (though the chair may play an active role in directing questioning). Committee hearings in this context can allow for robust questioning of political and policy positions, and allow MPs to gather information and expert opinion on a range of issues. In the Bundestag, meanwhile, questioning dynamics are very different. MPs usually focus their questions only on witnesses that they have invited, and usually have a set amount of time to both pose a question and receive an answer (in committees I’ve observed, this was often three to five minutes). Consequently, hearings do not develop thematically or where responses can build on one another; there is no dialogue. The end result is that hearings are often used by MPs to confirm existing knowledge, legitimise pre-existing political positions, or criticise the government.

Given the often assumed centrality of committees, and the growing prevalence of hearings, understanding how these function and work on a daily basis is critically important. What does this mean for committee hearings as evidence on stage? In both settings, it is clear that expertise is used, but used differently. Borrowing from the work of Christina Boswell, it seems that committee hearings in the UK case are used more ‘instrumentally’, i.e., for their problem-solving functions, while in the German case to ‘substantiate’ and ‘legitimise’ policy positions.

What I have found so far is notably different to what we might expect. Given the UK’s wider adversarial political culture, replicated in many dynamics in the House of Commons (not least prime minister’s questions), and Germany’s consensus-seeking political system characterised by coalition governments and bargaining, we would have perhaps expected committee work to echo such cultural differences. And yet, they operate in opposing ways. We can explain this at least in part due to their parliamentary structures, whereby the German Bundestag is organised with reference to its parliamentary party groups and the UK House of Commons gives primacy to the individually elected representative.

However, there are deeper underlying issues at play. First, with respect to the parliamentary administration, for example, MPs in the UK are a lot more positive about the service provided by officials who are seen as trusted and impartial. In my interviews, German MPs were a lot more sceptical of the idea of neutrality, with many questioning whether anybody can ever be neutral. Second, MPs view their roles in the institutions differently. In the House of Commons, MPs are either part of the frontbench or backbench; and if the latter, they see themselves as independent-minded and with the freedom to focus on anything they want. In the Bundestag, MPs are allocated policy portfolios on behalf of their parliamentary parties, and so see themselves as becoming specialists and advocate for their party in respective debates and committees. This suggests a more general point of difference between the two parliaments, which have developed within different parliamentary traditions and therefore have developed different structures and organisational methods to achieve those results.

About the author

Dr Marc Geddes is Senior Lecturer in Politics at the School of Social and Political Science, University of Edinburgh, and Visiting Fellow, Institute for Parliamentary Research (IParl). His past area of research expertise focuses on parliamentary committees in the UK House of Commons. Since 2024, he has begun a new research project to compare how parliaments across Europe gather, analyse and make use of different types of knowledge to fulfil their democratic functions.

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Where MPs sit in social networks matters

By Grace Cooper.

Most office workers tend to do much of their day-to-day socialising with colleagues. They meet over coffee, talk in corridors on the way to meetings, or grab a drink together at the end of a long day. These shared activities can have a significant impact on people’s behaviour and preferences. MPs are no different – Parliament is their workplace, and other MPs make up most of their social network. Their social interactions shape their preferences and behaviour, just like it would any other workplace. But the details matter for understanding how influential MPs can be, given their roles within their social networks.

How Parliament’s institutions affect MPs behaviour

MPs spend the majority of their time in Westminster in meeting rooms for select committee hearings, in the chamber, in the division lobby or in All-Party Parliamentary Group meetings (APPGs). APPGs are less formal meetings where MPs and Lords meet to discuss certain topics, such as refugees, climate change or gender equality.  An MP’s primary social network is formed of other MPs they socialise with through being on a select committee or an APPG together.

My previous research has shown that these parliamentary institutions shape the degree to which MPs are engaged in different topics. For example, if an MP is a member of the Home Affairs Select Committee or Refugee APPG, they are more likely to raise questions about refugees in Parliament above and beyond their committee obligations.

Perhaps it’s no surprise that MPs who end up having several meetings on specific issues tend to then promote those very issues in Parliament.  What’s more interesting though is that what particular role an MP ends up playing within these networks goes on to impact their behaviour, such as the number of written questions they submit about a particular policy.

As part of my research, I looked at four types of MPs who had an important role in the network and tested to see how their relationships to other MPs affected their parliamentary behaviour.

The middleman

This is the broker, the go-between. They have a structural advantage in the network and as a result an increased engagement with representative activities, such as submitting written parliamentary questions. This MP has a structural social advantage as they are the easiest person to access information from the select committees and APPGs and therefore captures this knowledge. They bridge the gaps of disconnected or uninformed MPs in parliament and connect the social network with the knowledge that they have as a key player in the network. This type of MP was found to submit more questions than their respective colleges in the same select committees or APPGs, indicating higher engagement with the issue.

The popular one 

This very important MP sits at the heart of the network. They have closer social access to other MPs in the network, highlighting connectivity and being at the centre of the flow of information. This centrality gives them easier access to the flow of information and as a result this social network influences their behaviour by being linked to a higher rate of raising questions within parliament. Some MPs worth noting are Kate Green, Tim Farron and Olivia Blake who were identified as key actors and as ‘Popular’ MPs. These MPs had the shortest pathways to other MPs in the network and therefore had a higher rate of written question submission.

The busy one 

This MP is in a lot of social groups, they are in select committees and multiple APPGs meaning they know a lot of MPs. Their social network is larger than those of other MPs in their network. In the refugee policy network, Afzal Khan was the busiest MP. However, surprisingly, there was no evidence that this gave them structural advantage. The assumption that knowing more MPs and having a larger network would mean MPs knew more, had access to more information and contacts, and therefore would encourage them to be more engaged in a specific policy area turned out not to be true. Someone like Afzal Khan was no more likely than his colleagues to submit written questions about refugees. Simply knowing more MPs or being involved in more parliamentary groups doesn’t mean an MP ends up doing more.

The social climber 

This MP is well connected to other well-connected MPs, demonstrating that they are part of the ‘popular’ groups in the parliamentary system. Initially it was assumed that as this type of MP came into contact with other well-connected MPs, it would give them a structural social advantage, leading to more engagement in the policy world they were socialising in. In other words, the thought was that their more connected and involved network would lead to an increase in their engagement. This has not been proven to be the case, however, no matter what the size of an MP’s network. Simply being an MP of a party with a larger representation, like the Conservative party, and therefore having a larger network than the MPs of smaller parties, does not increase their activity.

Where you sit in the social network matters

While being a member of a social network matters, it is the MP’s specific social, or structural position within this network that has the greatest impact on how they perform in their role. Simply having a bigger social network and joining more groups doesn’t seem to have a great effect on an MP’s levels of engagement compared to their colleagues. However, occupying the right kind of structural position, such as being the middleman or popular MP can end up having a noticeable impact on how an MP conducts themselves within parliament and how they advocate for particular groups.

It’s not enough for an MP to be in a select committee or APPG if they want to have an impact – MPs have to position themselves carefully within these networks. Parliamentary researchers should continue to look into social network analysis if they want to better understand how the social world of MPs affects and shapes their influence.

This post was first published on the LSE British Politics and Policy blog.

About the author

Grace Cooper is a PhD candidate in parliamentary studies at the University of York. Her research interests include social network analysis and the representation of refugees in Parliament.

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Petition platforms must reach beyond the usual suspects

By Cristina Leston-Bandeira and Blagovesta Tacheva.

Petitions are a popular avenue for participating in politics, with a recent study finding that signing a petition is the dominant form of political engagement. Thanks to new parliamentary processes introduced in recent years, petitioning parliament has also become an effective way for the public to raise issues of concern to policymakers.

However, as illustrated in the figure below, current petitioners are overwhelmingly from already politically engaged groups, typically an older white public with high socio-economic status – the so-called “usual suspects”. Rather than expanding opportunities for democratic engagement, there is a risk that petitions to parliament are simply amplifying the voices of those who “already shout the loudest”.

Source: Research Retold

This problem is compounded by a lack of research on how people from disengaged groups perceive engagement and petitioning. In a new study, we addressed this issue by asking people from seldom-heard groups, such as those from a low socio-economic or ethnic minority background, for their perceptions about petitioning. Our aim was to identify the barriers and enablers to engagement faced by groups beyond the usual suspects.

To do so, we organised focus groups with petitioners and non-petitioners, including people from seldom-heard groups. This was supplemented by interviews with parliamentary officials and representatives from community organisations. This research allowed us to identify six core findings.

1. Deep mistrust

Unsurprisingly, our research unveiled deep mistrust of politics – as illustrated in the figure below, which shows participants’ views when asked what politics would be if it were an animal.

Source: Nifty Fox

There was a particularly acute disconnect from the political system among seldom-heard groups. Although everyone who took part in the research identified core issues they felt strongly about, they did not see these issues as being related to politics.

Participants held such negative perceptions that positive experiences with politicians did not alter these perceptions. This affected participants’ willingness to engage in politics and petitioning. As a result, they did not view politics as a route for addressing core issues affecting them. Participants felt politics was not for them, despite expressing interest in it.

Our research showed that engagement with politics or political processes, such as petitioning, needs to be communicated through issues (examples, case studies, stories) as much as possible. This is what enables a connection between politics and citizens. We also found evidence that the deep well of distrust keeps people away from opportunities such as petitions.

2. A lack of awareness

Seldom-heard groups had limited knowledge or awareness of petitioning in general, including through platforms such as change.org. Very few were aware that they can petition their parliament. Those participants aware of petitioning were usually those who reported higher levels of political engagement overall. However, even the politically engaged non-petitioners were mostly unaware of petitions to their parliament, only knowing of websites such as change.org.

3. Obstacles to engagement

Seldom-heard groups are often affected by intersecting inequalities. These inequalities can exacerbate each other, making it extremely difficult for people within these groups to engage in politics. As illustrated in the figure below, seldom-heard groups can be affected by illiteracy, language barriers, low IT literacy, a lack of IT equipment, disability, poverty and isolation. These barriers can preclude them from engaging in formal politics.

Our research also identified specific barriers to political engagement and petitioning, such as limited knowledge about politics. This was a recurring theme throughout our research, with participants lacking basic knowledge about politics and the UK political system, such as an understanding of what parliament does and how it differs from the government

.Source: Research Retold

This was combined with a lack of key campaigning skills, as well as a lack of confidence, which can make the process of petitioning feel intimidating. These findings show why parliaments need to be more proactive in the way they disseminate and explain their petition systems if they wish to reach beyond the usual suspects.

4. Community organisations as mediators

Our research also showed the importance of community organisations working with seldom-heard groups as mediators when it comes to facilitating access. Community organisations have often built long-term relationships with these communities, they have direct access to them, they have a good understanding of their circumstances and challenges, and they have gained their trust. They could therefore play a role in helping to raise awareness of petitioning among these groups and even help them to start a petition, just as they help people access other services.

However, these types of organisations would not necessarily think of facilitating engagement with petitions, as they may themselves be unaware or unconvinced of their value. This was apparent in our interviews. Facilitating further involvement from these groups would also be challenging for community organisations due to a lack of capacity and resources.

Still, interviewees suggested that a buddy system in which engagement “champions” are identified could make this role easier. Following the “train the trainer” principle, these champions could be based in community organisations and trained to have a better understanding of petitioning and their potential role in supporting service users.

5. Managing expectations and guiding participation

Managing expectations was a recurring theme in our research. This is closely linked to the way parliaments’ e-petitions systems are communicated to the public. The language used to communicate with petitioners and explain the petitions process was often seen as unclear, with many asking for more plain language to be used.

Although petitioners were happy overall with their experience, a few found the process disjointed and unclear. These concerns were well summarised by one petitioner, who highlighted that clarity around the process and the language used to describe it is key for managing petitioners’ expectations: “You’ve got to have that clarity, otherwise people’s expectations go up here and they’re just going to be massively deflated by the end of it.”

The language used across all communication channels is essential to making the process more accessible beyond the usual suspects. This should be accompanied by the development of resources aimed at wider audiences, such as infographics, audiovisual material and “Easy Read” guides.

6. Collaboration with citizen-centred services

Finally, our research showed that petitioning processes cannot be considered solely through the actions of the officials directly involved. Other citizen-centred services, such as education, communication, outreach and participation services, play a key role.

However, links between these services and the staff responsible for petitions are not always well established. Petitions to parliament are considered to be parliamentary business, but they are also led by citizens. Supporting the petitions process therefore requires closer collaboration between those services that focus on enhancing the public’s understanding of parliament.

The need to be proactive

Overall, we found people have considerable interest in political issues and petitions, including those within seldom-heard groups. However, there is also deep mistrust within these groups, often coupled with a lack of knowledge, skills and confidence to engage with participatory tools such as petitions.

To expand the reach of petitions beyond the usual suspects, parliaments need to be proactive in reaching out to a wider audience. The mere fact a participatory tool exists does not mean it will be used by everyone. Our research underlines the importance of education and clear communication for enhancing the value of participatory tools.

This post was first published on the LSE British Politics and Policy blog.

About the authors

Cristina Leston-Bandeira is a Professor of Politics in the School of Politics and International Studies at the University of Leeds.

Blagovesta Tacheva is a Postdoctoral Fellow in the School of Politics and International Studies at the University of Leeds.

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The (worst) laws of the land: The concept of legislative basket cases in Central-Eastern Europe

By Miklós Sebők and Rebeka Kiss.

Is it possible to conceptualise the quality of legislation in a multidimensional manner? If yes, how can we define the laws which are of the lowest quality? This blog examines these conceptual and methodological issues by introducing a theory of legislative basket cases and offering illustrative case studies from Central-Eastern Europe.

How can we conceptualise legislative quality in a multidimensional manner?

One way to start the conceptualisation of legislative quality is to look at some examples which are universally (regardless of party affiliation) considered to be “bad” laws. An example, which we described in more detail in Sebők, Kiss and Kovács, 2023, that highlights the potential failures of the legislative process is the famous case of the ‘Bridge to Nowhere’ in Alaska. The ‘Bridge to Nowhere’ narrative commenced in 1996 when municipal authorities in the city of Ketchikan endorsed a proposal to construct a bridge. This proposed infrastructure aimed to connect the sparsely populated Gravina Island to the Alaskan mainland. The justification for this bridge was vigorously debated, especially since a functional and inexpensive ferry service was already in place. Despite the availability of this service, the  bridge project secured initial federal backing under the ‘Transportation Equity Act of 1998’.

Eventually, the Gravina bridge became a notorious example of wasteful expenditure and dysfunctional legislation, particularly after a dramatic U-turn by Sarah Palin, who was campaigning for the governorship of Alaska at the time. Palin had initially displayed support for the project, only to pivot post-election as governor and ultimately dismissing the bridge in 2007 as an impractical solution. Extant scholarship often correlates such poor legislative practices with authoritarian and illiberal regimes. The case of the ‘Bridge to Nowhere’, however, demonstrates that ‘good’ and ‘bad’ laws are not a regime characteristic as the legislative process leading up to is passage unfolded in one of the longest-standing liberal democracies.

Conceptualising the quality of law-making and legislative basket cases

Although the problem of legislative quality has not generated a unified strand of research in political science and legal studies, various approaches to conceptualisation are available that we can build on:

Based on the literature cited, a ‘good’ law can be characterized by a clear, and publicly supported policy objective which was fleshed out in stakeholder consultations. It should be efficient, coherent, transparent, and relatively stable post-adoption. Essentially, a ‘good’ law meets high standards across four key dimensions of legislative quality: (1) public policy; (2)  formal–legal–constitutional; (3) procedural; and (4) stability.

Conversely, a legislative basket case signifies a major failure in law-making, marked by various deficiencies compromising its effectiveness and legitimacy. Such laws often miss their public policy goals, have unclear purposes, and may conflict with existing laws and constitutional principles. Their drafting often bypasses essential consultations and is rushed through the legislature without adequate justification, leading to a lack of consensus. Post-enactment, these laws are unstable, requiring frequent amendments. The absence of post-implementation evaluations and a failure to establish necessary enforcement conditions further diminish their effectiveness and enforceability. In essence, a law can be considered to be a legislative basket case if it is flawed across a wide-ranging of indicators of legislative quality.

Building on our previous research, which delves into the concept and measurement of legislative backsliding (Sebők, Kiss and Kovács, 2023), in the manuscript serving as the basis of this blog entry, we aim to identify legislative basket cases by employing a multidimensional framework for assessing legislative quality considering content, public process, legal formalities, and constitutional considerations. We examine the quality criteria listed in Table 1 for each law under consideration.

An empirical case study: The Polish Law on Forests

In our presentation at PSA Parliaments Conference 2023, we examined illustrative cases from the Czech, Hungarian, Polish, and Slovak legislation in detail. Here, we focus on the Polish Law on Forests (Act on Forests of 16 December 2016, known as “Ustawa o lasach”) and evaluate it from the perspective of our theory of legislative quality. This piece of legislation was at the centre of a significant legal controversy due to its provisions allowing land clearing and excessive cutting down of trees, which was claimed by its detractors to be in violation of European Union conservation laws. The initial goals of the law were to enhance the rights of property owners regarding tree and shrub growth, simplify regulations on felling trees, and delegate to local governments the ability to adjust greenery protection levels to their needs. The law aimed to introduce a stable solution under the oversight of the Minister for the Environment, who was expected to ensure environmental balance and prevent selective application of provisions (Radecka, 2018).

However, the law’s implementation led to a scandal involving the Minister of Climate and Environment, who approved a logging plan that sparked widespread criticism. The law’s enforceability was complicated by the fact that the area in question—Białowieża forest—is part of the Natura 2000 network and UNESCO World Heritage sites, which is subject to stringent protection standards. The European Commission consistently and formally called on Poland to avoid extensive logging in the primeval forest, which Poland’s government initially ignored and proceeded with the logging activities.

The law faced challenges regarding its constitutionality and compliance with EU law, whereby the Polish government defended its policies by asserting that national legislation mandated sustainable forest management, implying that its tree-cutting practices were environmentally friendly. However, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) sided with the European Commission, ruling that Poland’s policy contravened the EU’s nature conservation rules (C-432/21). Notably, this was not the first instance of Poland facing legal action over forest management. In 2018, CJEU had already ruled that Poland should halt tree-cutting in the protected Białowieża forest (C-441/17). Due to a ruling in 2023 (C-432/21), Poland was required to revise its national legislation to align its forest management plans with EU biodiversity conservation laws.

The procedural aspects of the law’s enactment were also criticised, as it was adopted hastily, without sufficient preparation, stakeholder consultation, and proper public deliberation. The parliamentary debate was conducted in a fast-track manner, raising concerns about the law’s rushed adoption and potential violation of EU directives— this was later confirmed by the judgments mentioned above. Overall, the Forest Law ticks most boxes related to poor legislative quality and, therefore, constitutes an example of a legislative basket case.

As we showed in our presentation at PSA Parliaments 2023 this case is not unique, and similar multidimensional deficiencies can be observed in relation to many other laws passed in the Central-Eastern European region. Notable such examples include the Czech taxation of church restitution (Act No. 125/2019 Coll.), the Hungarian Medical Chamber Law (Act I of 2023) or the Slovak Land Acquisition Law (Act No. 140/2014 Coll.). Avenues for future research include developing methods to measure and quantify individual quality criteria in a multilingual  research design and to assess the causes and consequences of passing legislative basket cases.

About the authors

Miklós Sebők is a Research Professor at HUN-REN Centre of Social Sciences and poltextLAB (poltextlab.com). He serves as the research director of the Hungarian Comparative Agendas Project, and as principal investigator of the V-SHIFT Momentum research project, funded by the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. His research in legislative studies includes co-authored contributions such as “The Concept and Measurement of Legislative Backsliding” in Parliamentary Affairs, “Measuring legislative stability – A new approach with data from Hungary”, in European Political Science, and “Comparative European legislative research in the age of large-scale computational text analysis: A review article” in International Political Science Review.

Rebeka Kiss is a Junior Research Fellow at the HUN-REN Centre for Social Sciences and a PhD student at the Doctoral School of Public Administration Sciences of the University of Public Service, specialising in legislative studies. Her contributions to the field include co-authored works such as “The Concept and Measurement of Legislative Backsliding” in Parliamentary Affairs and “The Transparency of Constitutional Reasoning: A Text Mining Analysis of the Hungarian Constitutional Court’s Jurisprudence” published in Studia Iuridica Lublinensia. She has participated in various research projects including as the Hungarian Comparative Agendas Project, the V-SHIFT Momentum research project, and the OPTED – Observatory for Political Texts in European Democracies. 

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Obstruction, Alternation, and Amendments: Evidence from Israel

By Tal Elovits.

Obstruction in parliament dates back to the eighteenth century when legislatures became more diverse and democratic. Parliamentary obstruction is a deliberate strategy used within legislative bodies to delay or prevent legislation from being passed. A minority or individual legislators commonly use it to oppose the majority will. While conscious obstruction can be a strategic tool within a democratic system, its misuse can jeopardize the democratic principles that it means to protect. It can potentially reduce legislative power while increasing executive power, putting the democratic principle of broad representation at risk. If an obstruction is used excessively, it can endanger the proper functioning of legislative bodies, possibly threatening the future of parliamentary government. As a result, extreme caution is essential while employing obstruction techniques (Bell, 2018; Rutherford, 1914).

Previous study points out that obstruction using legislative instruments may be connected to government alternation. According to Zucchini (2011), who used the Italian case study to explore the relationship, the opposition is likelier to use delay tactics following an alternation government, and the more the opposition is ideologically cohesive, the greater the chance they will use obstruction tactics. In this study, I wish to explore the relationship between alternation and legislative obstruction in Israel following the alternation government of 2021 and specifically ask how the alternation affected the amendment’s introduction in the Israeli Knesset. Furthermore, when were amendments used more strategically? The use of amendments in the legislative process will measure legislative obstruction, and this study will be the first to analyze amendments in the Israeli parliament.

As a part of the legislative process, amendment is an instrument that allows parliament members to suggest changes to a bill under deliberation, usually by a committee. In the same way that private members have the right to introduce private member bills, private members may propose changes to a bill. Typically, amendments introduced by individual members of parliament (MPs) are voted on before the final vote of the plenum (Behrens et al., 2023; Mattson, 1995; Palau et al., 2023). Although a form of amendment as a parliamentary instrument can be found in many legislatures, they differ greatly in their restrictions, stage of voting, and deliberation time assigned to a bill considered in the final vote (Strøm, 1995).

The Israeli parliament posits an interesting and vibrant arena to study the possible effects of government alternation. In 2021, what is known as the “right bloc,” led by long-serving PM Benjamin Netanyahu, lost its governmental positions, and Israel had for a year an alternation government for the first time in 15 years. As illustrated in Figure 1, this special circumstance allows us to question and study the possible effects of government alternation in Israel and to provide further empirical evidence for the study of legislative behavior. We set two hypotheses for our study. H1 – Government alternation increases amendment introduction. H2 – Narrow ideological differences between opposition parties foster strategic cooperation.

Figure 1 – Israel political parties 2015-2022 with their coalition status

In Israel, amendments are the only tool allowing parliament members to gain debate time at the committee and the plenary. Each amendment allows a 5-minute speech for each sponsor, which can be multiplied, sometimes reaching hundreds of debate hours on a single bill (Akirav et al., 2010). Therefore, when studying legislative obstruction in Israel, using parliament members in amendments becomes a vital measurement.

Although amendments have been in use in the Israeli parliament since its first day, no data is available for analysis, and retrieving this requires manual analysis of bills in their final wording. This study covers 2015-2022, 3 legislative terms – the 20th, 23rd, and 24th and three different governments, as seen in Figure 1. In the study period, 791 non-budgetary bills have reached the final wording stage. Amendments data was collected manually regarding each bill. Further data, such as the legislative committee, bill category, type of legislation, and when the bill was introduced, were mined from the Knesset Odata API service. In total, 24,001 amendments were gathered. Figure 2 shows the share of bills with amendments by legislative term and yearly quarter. Even without any further statistical analysis, one can notice the different pattern that the 24th term presents.

Figure 2 – Share of bills with amendments 2015–2022

The data gathered was also statistically manipulated to uncover possible mechanisms explaining this change in using amendments. I have constructed two dependent variables: Amendments – dummy, where one is when a bill is introduced with amendment(s), and Strategic – dummy, where one is when amendments are introduced by half or more of the effective number of opposition members. The study hypothesis was tested using statistical Probit regression in Stata in two models —the first tested alternation as an independent variable, and the second focused on the Knesset term as an independent variable. Table 1 presents the results of the two models. Further marginal analysis was done following the first model to uncover the probability of a bill being introduced with amendments under an alternate government. The results, illustrated in Figure 3, show that while under continuous government, the probability for a bill to be introduced with the amendment is 26.4%, under alternation government, the probability rises to 70.8%, supporting the first hypothesis.

Table 1 – Probit model results for amendments and strategic (1)

Figure 3 – Margin analysis following first model probit regression

The result of the second model supports this study’s second hypothesis. As the opposition becomes cohesive, they will increase their cooperation, acting more strategically, providing additional evidence for earlier theoretical and empirical studies suggesting that when ideological distance is small, they are more likely to coordinate in the parliamentary arena (Dewan & Spirling, 2011; Kaiser, 2008; Whitaker & Martin, 2022).

Our analysis also suggests that the use of amendment is related to the legislative term cycle, where both the first month of the new government and the period following parliament dissolution appear to have an effect with a slightly significant positive coefficient and a highly significant negative coefficient, in accordance. At the beginning of a new government, regardless of the alternation status, the probability that a bill will introduced with amendment increases, and this probability drops significantly following parliament dissolution. We found no significant effect on the bill’s content or the committee it deliberated in.

This study’s findings open a wide window into how parliamentarian obstruction may look in Israel and shed light on the use of amendments in the Knesset. Alternation fuels opposition resistance. In Israel, this resistance manifested through the use of amendments. However, one must be aware that with obstructing comes anti-obstruction measures by the majority of parliament. This tit-for-tat escalation into a pattern of obstruction and retaliation can poison the spirit of mutual respect between parties. Partisan mistrust and even demonization replace good faith assumptions of sincerity and reasonableness. Thus, while limited obstruction may sometimes be justified, oppositions must also weigh the risks of it becoming entrenched in political culture. When this balance is disrupted, and the opposition resorts to obstructionist tactics without a clear strategy or purpose, it can weaken the legislature and, by extension, lead to democratic backsliding.

This study sheds light on the important role that amendments play in the hands of Knesset opposition members as a significant instrument in filling the gap in the existing scholarship. Furthermore, this study provides important empirical evidence for the use of legislative instruments by opposition parties, especially in the light of government alternation. Future studies, expanding this study period, might allow us to uncover additional patterns of the use of amendments in Israel’s busy parliament.

This short blog post is part of the author’s PhD project, “The Knesset: A Busy Parliaments in the 2020s”.

About the author

Tal Elovits is a PhD fellow at the Department of Social and Political Sciences, University of Milan, Milan, Italy. Former faction director in the Israeli parliament. tal.elovits@unimi.it ORCID: 0000- 0003-2681-1445

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The Black Box of Authoritarian Legislatures

Almost every country in the world has a legislature. They are at the centre of democratic politics, but also take on crucial roles in authoritarian regimes. Felix Wiebrecht illustrates how a multidimensional approach helps us to understand their role in dictatorships and paves the way for more research

Authoritarian legislatures matter

Hager Ali notes that we need better typologies of authoritarian regimes. The same applies to their legislatures. They can differ from each other as much as from their democratic counterparts, despite earlier research describing them as nothing but ‘window-dressing’ or rubberstamp institutions.

But even under authoritarianism, legislatures matter. This is increasingly accepted in comparative politics, but research still struggles to identify why exactly that is the case. In authoritarian regimes, legislatures have, for instance, been credited with important roles in co-optation, power-sharing, and the collection of information. However, as scholars of authoritarianism, we seem to emphasise one task over another without linking these features into a unified framework of authoritarian legislatures.

Legislatures are multi-dimensional

Recent research has taken a step toward advancing our understanding of authoritarian legislatures by comparing their strengths across regimes. While some authoritarian legislatures are correctly described as mere democratic façade, others have a much more significant impact on authoritarian politics.

Yet legislative strength is often primarily used to refer to parliaments’ relationship with the executive, i.e., the dictators. While this may be the most important dimension, it is only one of several. Therefore, a more disaggregated approach may prove useful in understanding their role and consequences in authoritarian regimes.

Like any legislature, authoritarian legislatures fulfil several functions simultaneously, including co-opting outsiders, legitimation, and providing a forum for elite bargaining

In fact, legislatures always perform multiple tasks at once. While the name suggests that law-making is legislatures’ primary task, even in democracies, they fulfil several functions simultaneously. These may also include linkage, representation, authorisation, and legitimation.

The same applies to authoritarian legislatures. They co-opt regime outsiders, legitimate the regime, and provide a forum for elite bargaining, all at the same time. Figure 1 shows how we can conceptualise legislatures’ tasks under authoritarianism.

Figure 1: Dimensions of authoritarian legislatures’ tasks

Figure 1: Dimensions of Authoritarian Legislatures’ Tasks

A matter of degree

The question then is not whether a legislature in any given regime performs these functions. Most legislatures in authoritarian regimes will perform all six tasks at least to some degree. For instance, even the Cortes in Spain under Franco engaged in lawmaking. The Vietnamese National Assembly, although primarily focused on portraying regime unity, also co-opts a small number of non-Party members. Instead, the question is to what degree authoritarian legislatures engage in these activities.

While China’s National People’s Congress has little ability to constrain party and government leaders, it fulfils several other functions, which can each be compared with other legislatures

Consider the example of China’s National People’s Congress (NPC). The NPC hardly constrains party and government leaders. However, we have evidence that behind the scenes, bargaining between elites and different government agencies is relatively common. Yet, as in Vietnam, it allows the maintenance of an appearance of strength and elite unity toward the public.

Since the NPC only accommodates a limited number of delegates that are not members of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), its potential for co-optation is limited. On the other hand, its delegates have been shown to transmit important information upward.

Based on this previous research from the context of China, I invite scholars and practitioners to think of the NPC according to Figure 2. It shows that the NPC can fulfill different functions simultaneously but to varying degrees. Legislatures in communist regimes, for instance, send a stronger signal of elite unity to citizens. Meanwhile, in competitive regimes, they may actually be used as a scapegoat to improve the public perception of dictators.

Figure 2: dimensions of the Chinese National People’s Congress’ tasks

Figure 2: Dimensions of the Chinese National People’s Congress’ Tasks

The NPC’s impact on policymaking may, in comparison to other legislatures, still be limited. Nevertheless, it should be stronger than legislatures’ influence in places such as the Middle East.

Since research on China’s NPC is relatively advanced, it is possible to produce the hexagon on the basis of existing studies. Other regimes, however, lack comprehensive studies on legislatures which makes it difficult to conceptualise them in the same way.

Inner workings

To generate a more nuanced typology of authoritarian legislatures, we need more research on their effects and inner workings in different regimes. Recent studies have paved the way for emerging research agendas, for instance on understanding legislators’ backgrounds, the work of committees in developing countries, and legislative amendments. Advancing along these lines will help us to move beyond current debates on authoritarian parliaments.

As almost every country has a legislature, it makes little sense to debate if they matter or not. Instead, we should ask ourselves more specifically where, when, for what, and for whom legislatures in authoritarian regimes matter.

We must move beyond asking whether a legislature exists to ask where, when, for what, and for whom legislatures in authoritarian regimes matter

Empirically, this also entails moving beyond treating the mere existence of a legislature as an indicator of anything. A legislature may or may not be constraining the executive. It may or may not be active in lawmaking. And so forth.

Future research should therefore also strive for more comprehensive data collection efforts concerning legislatures in authoritarian regimes. Geddes, Wright, and Frantz, for instance, only include a question on whether the legislature houses an opposition in their dataset. This can give us an idea about parliaments’ potential for co-optation but is not enough when studying legislatures.

Comparison and context

While it may be challenging to collect more comparative data across parliaments, such efforts will be extremely rewarding. Understanding the extent to which they perform all functions mentioned above goes beyond the mere study of legislatures. It will also shed light more generally on issues of elite politics, redistribution as well as political economy, and regime stability in authoritarian regimes.

By Felix Wiebrecht

Postdoctoral Research Fellow, V-Dem Institute, University of Gothenburg

Felix’s research focuses on authoritarian legislatures and elite politics, both globally and sometimes on China specifically.

His work has featured in Democratization, Policy & Politics, and the  Journal of East Asian Studies.

Felix is also the Co-Organiser of the Authoritarian Political Systems Group.

felixwiebrecht.com

He tweets @FelixWiebrecht

This post was originally published in The Loop. The original piece is available here: https://theloop.ecpr.eu/the-black-box-of-authoritarian-legislatures/

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Parliaments or Legislatures, or perhaps Assemblies? Names, origins and meanings

Cristina Leston-Bandeira, University of Leeds

@estrangeirada

For parliamentary geeks out there, this is a recurrent discussion: parliament or legislature? Which term is the ‘right’ term to use? Which one reflects the true nature of the institution that embodies the representative and legislative branch in a political system. I suggest we should relax more about the exact term and instead acknowledge their differing origins and meanings, whilst recognising the diversity of terms out there – assemblies, councils etc. After all, words are imbued with our own culture and history – why should it be any different with the word used to refer to this institution?

A while ago I started working on a textbook about comparative legislatures – unfortunately, life was a bit too mad at the time and I couldn’t bring it to fruition (maybe a retirement project?). But, as part of Chapter 1, I actually completed some research on the names and history of development of legislatures (or is it parliaments?). Here are some notes from that research. 

The institution supporting the representative and legislative branch of governance has been known by different names across the world and over time. This is often associated with local culture and language, but can also indicate a focus on a particular function to the detriment of others. The terms ‘legislature’ and ‘parliament’ are the most commonly used generic terms and are regularly used inter-changeably – they have, however, different origins and refer to different functions. In short, legislature is North American originally and refers to the function of making law. Parliament has European origin and refers to the function of debating.

The term ‘legislature’ tends to be more ordinarily used in Anglo-Saxon environments and/or countries with a strong American influence. The development of this term is closely associated with the expansion of the nascent American colonial legislatures. As their expansion in a context of independence was closely associated to the right of making law, the label of “legislature” – to legislate, to make ‘legis’(law) – became the natural appellation of these institutions. It is therefore a term linked to American influence, but also to an understanding of this institution as a legislation-making body. 

The term ‘parliament’ however is more common in Europe and in environments with a strong European influence. The term comes from the French verb ‘parler’ – to speak, to discuss. It refers therefore to a different dimension of this institution: as an arena for debate. As we see below, the medieval parliaments were mainly gatherings for discussion, and the term parliament is associated with these. This term can be dated back to medieval times in Europe, being therefore the most well-established nomenclature for this institution.

Other common names include Assembly (often National Assembly and associated with the need to reaffirm the national sovereignty of the people), Congress (usually encompassing a lower and an upper chamber), Chamber (Chamber of Representatives, Chamber of Deputies, etc, encompassing an explicit reference to the primacy of the role played by the Plenum chamber), Council, House and Senate (a popular name for upper chambers). But many parliaments also have their own country specific names, such as Althingi (Iceland), Bundestag (Germany), Diet (Japan), Majlis (Saudi Arabia and other Islamic countries), Sabha (India) and Sejm (Poland). And some of these names refer instead to the idea of ‘gatherings’, ‘coming together’, or even ‘events’, which speak to other types of functions performed by these institutions but are also a nod to the way they developed from ad-hoc gatherings to permanent institutions.

Legislatures are not a new feature of our societies, they have existed for many centuries. What is specific to the modern parliament is its complexity of membership and of roles performed, and the way it is integrated nationally in the governance fabric of our societies. It is difficult to date exactly when the first parliaments existed, as this is closely related to how one defines a legislature plus the linkage of the institution with its place (are legislatures that have changed location and/or building, the same legislature, for example?). Besides this, the development of legislatures is often conflated with the development of democracy and/or representative government. Although related, they are not necessarily the same. There are plenty of examples of legislatures, still today, that have little resemblance to democracy or representative government. 

The definition of a parliament, in its basic form, can be summed up as a group of people meeting together at the same time and location (even if digital) to discuss matters that affect the collective of a community. This may simply constitute a discussion and not lead to an effective decision or a vote. Some identify the medieval legislatures as the first ones, other point to the Greek assemblies (with associated myths: the Icelandic Althingi, the Isle of Man Tynwald, England for Westminster, etc.). The first legislatures were mainly forums for discussion, whereby people would meet to discuss key issues of the day. The abiding power of these forums to make decisions or to simply consult and discuss varied considerably, across the ages and contexts. 

Whilst the ancient Athenian Agora is the most well-known early assembly-like institution, this was by no means an exceptional institution. Other assemblies existed already at the time across ancient Greece. Most operated as public spaces for discussion, open to whoever wish to join the debate. Some assemblies had deliberative powers and decisions would be voted upon, though the power to vote would be limited to male citizens who attended the respective meeting. There is also evidence of much earlier presence of assemblies in the Indian sub-continent, in the Vedic age, meaning circa 3000-1000 BC, which exercised considerable influence. The Roman era also includes many types of early institutional expressions of a legislature in the form of councils, assemblies and, of course, the well-known Senate, which was particularly powerful during the Roman Republic. These legislatures varied very considerably in composition, participation, role and powers across the different Roman regimes. Some involved direct democracy participation, some had legislative powers, some were simple forums for discussion of local issues. A common characteristic of all of these different types of legislatures is their transient nature and, in most cases, lack of national remit.

It is from the medieval legislatures, though, that we can identify a clearer path of development towards the institution of the modern parliament. Many authors date the creation of the first parliaments in the 13 century and place it in England, with the De Monfort Parliament in 1265, seen as the first expression of a national legislature. But this development is progressive, representing the culmination of the expansion of smaller scale assemblies. It is also a process present elsewhere in Europe. The first parliaments were born out of a need of Monarchs to negotiate with the members of their aristocracy, and of increasingly larger territories under their ruling. As territories under one Monarch became larger and the need for taxation became a more complex task, the need to negotiate terms with local Barons and other aristocracy representatives became all the more pressing. As the context and environment of those negotiations became more formal and regular, the beginnings of the notion of a parliament started to materialise.

In his detailed comparative analysis of medieval parliaments in Europe, Marongiu shows that the predecessors of the modern parliament – curia, courts, concilia, estates – were developed firstly as occasional public relations reunions, which were “summoned by sovereigns whenever it seemed opportune to ask [secular and ecclesiastical dignitaries] counsel or opinion” (Marongiu, 1968: 45). As these reunions became more regular and larger, their relevance and formality expanded eventually leading to the new parlamentums. The first parliaments were therefore about communication and public relations. But as parliaments became institutionalised and part of a national governance chain, their focus shifted to the relationship with the executive and to the function of legislating.

I’m European, so parliament feels like the most natural word to use. My first language was French (parlement), my second language Portuguese (parlamento) and my third one is English (parliament). So parliament it is; that doesn’t mean I don’t use the term legislatures and I’m perfectly relaxed about using the term, as my recent article with David Judge shows; I’d probably rarely use the term ‘legislators’, but understand where North American colleagues come from when they do. So rather than worrying about what is the right term (whilst ignoring the many other terms that exist, such as Assemblies), it may simply be best to accept both. Or indeed adapt and create new words, as Brazilians have done: by adapting the American legislature word and meaning, they created ‘the legislative’ as a noun – o legislativo – which does not exist in European Portuguese as a noun. Ultimately words simply reflect their history and culture, there is no right or wrong, it’s about what each means, the same with parliament (or is it legislature?).

If you want to find out more about it all, I really recommend the following:

Loewenberg, G. and Patterson, S. (1979), Comparing Legislatures, University Press of America.

Marongiu, A. (1968), Medieval Parliaments – a comparative study, Eyre and Spottiswoode.

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The Deliberative Costs of Strict Party Discipline

How does the strict enforcement of party discipline affect deliberations in a legislature? Udit Bhatia, University of Oxford, considers this in a new blog based on his article for the Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy.

Continue reading “The Deliberative Costs of Strict Party Discipline”
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Key findings of the European Commission’s 2018 country reports on the national parliaments of the Western Balkans countries

Blerim Vela discusses the state of the parliaments of the six candidate countries and potential candidate countries from the Western Balkans that are aspiring to become members of the European Union.

Continue reading “Key findings of the European Commission’s 2018 country reports on the national parliaments of the Western Balkans countries”
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A ‘dual mandate’ English Parliament: some key questions of institutional design

In the latest blog from our Legislatures in Uncertain Times conference, Meg Russell and Jack Sheldon discuss the model for a dual mandate English Parliament and ask whether what it proposes is a parliament at all.

Continue reading “A ‘dual mandate’ English Parliament: some key questions of institutional design”