Left party organization and internal democracy

Luke March

University of Edinburgh

Email Address: [email protected] Posting Address: Politics and IR, Chrystal Macmillan Building, George Square, Edinburgh EH8 9LD

Draft version 1.0 – this is work in progress: please do not cite without author’s permission

 Introduction

There is no pure, ideal-type form of democracy evident in contemporary politics: ‘Really existing democracy’ is a trade-off between concepts of ‘representation’ and ‘effectiveness’: full representation and deliberation being rarely entirely compatible with the exigencies of governing large and complex states or organisations. Similarly, there is no ideal-typical form of democracy for political parties. Whereas it is widely accepted that democracy can’t function without political parties, the importance of their internal democracy is debateable - some like Schattschneider and Sartori argue that national-level democracy is not related to the level of democracy of its component parts (democracy operates between parties rather than within them). Moreover, there are many practical arguments against intra-party democracy: for example, that it decreases the effectiveness of parties as catch-all, vote- getting machines, or that, on a broader scale, it increases parties’ entrenched loyalty towards an electoral niche, rather than the voter as a whole. However, in recent years arguments for intra-party democracy have only become more compelling, given that there is wide-spread concern about the ‘democratic deficit’ in many contemporary representative democracies. It is arguably more persuasive to argue for intra-party democracy both on a practical basis ( parties using internally democratic procedures may select more capable and appealing leaders, to have more responsive policies, and, as a result, to enjoy greater electoral success) and a normative one (parties that ‘practice what they preach’ by using internally democratic procedures strengthen democratic culture generally (Scarrow 2005). 1 For the left, this concern with intra-party democracy is obviously more important than for other party families: the legacy of ‘totalitarian’ state socialism has indelibly linked socialism with Stalinism and anti-democracy amongst significant portions of the European electorate. Moreover, a significant concern of left parties and followers themselves has been (since the 1960s and again since the late 1980s) to find an optimal form of intra-party democracy that can overcome this negative legacy while combining both representation and effectiveness. This paper will discuss the advantages and risks of intra-party democracy for left parties, while examining some of the specific problems they face in implementing more internally inclusive decision-making procedures . It then looks at a number of case studies of contemporary left parties that implement different models of intra-party democracy: three contemporary communist parties which cleave to (different) forms of traditional Soviet-style internal practices; and parties that have to a varying degree implemented forms of post-Leninist internal democracy as a reaction to the Soviet model. My aim is not to advocate a preferred form of intra-party democracy. Indeed, party organisation is heavily context and history-specific; moreover informal factors often matter more than formal organisation: therefore what may work with one party may be entirely dysfunctional in another context. Therefore there is no single, discrete set of ‘best practices’ for intra-party governance (Scarrow 2005). The purpose of this paper is to look at (some of) the options, and their respective benefits and problems as a basis for further discussion.

How important is internal democracy?

The importance parties might place on democracy varies much according to the type of party. Broadly, apart from classification by ideological traditions (the ‘party family’ approach), parties can be best classified according to their function and goal. Their (party system) ‘function’ describes their overall role as links between the state, their members, and

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 wider electorate. According to this approach: the ‘mass’ party of the early 20 th century aimed to directly subordinate the interests of state to those of their core membership; the ‘catch all’ party of the mid-20 th century aimed to use the preferences of a broader electorate to influence the state, while the ‘cartel parties’ of the later 20 th century acted more as arbiters between state and society (and largely in the interests of the former) (Katz and Mair 1995). Each model entails a distinct model of intra party democracy: the mass party’s aim is to encapsulate and represent the wishes of its core membership: therefore the preference is for intra-party party participation; for the catch-all party, representing the broader electorate is of greater importance than representing member’s issues: intra-party democracy is important only to the degree it does not conflict with those of maximising the electorate. For the cartel party, gaining access to state resources takes precedence to the interests either of the electorate or membership: intra-party democracy is likely to be of less interest than either the two preceding models, and interesting to the party leadership only to the degree it can provide an organisational or financial resource. Moreover, different parties contain different strategic goals that have been characterised as orientations towards ‘policy, office, or votes’ (Kaare Strøm 1990; Müller and Strøm 1999). For many parties, winning elections (‘votes’) is sometimes the least important goal. A ‘policy’ goal involves implementing internal ideological or identity aims on the public policy agenda in the most direct and consistent way; an ‘office-seeking’ goal implies the aim of attaining and maximizing political power (e.g. by gaining governmental portfolios or coalition bargaining potential). Harmel and Janda (1994) add ‘implementing party democracy’ as a primary goal for 'new politics' parties. These goals can be linked to the party functions above: a ‘mass party’ is a policy-seeking or democracy-seeking party aiming to articulate policies for its core membership; a catch-all party is a ‘vote-seeking’ party trying to maximise its electorate, while a cartel party is an ‘office-seeking party’ aiming for power goals. Nevertheless, there will be proponents of each different goal within most parties, although a united party will have an over-riding ‘primary goal’ (Harmel and Janda 1994). In general, the question of whether and to what extent parties need to be internally democratic in order to promote democracy within wider society is disputed (Scarrow 1995). We can relate some of the different positions on this question to the party goals already outlined. Those parties supporting a more office-or vote-seeking goal will tend to see intra- party democracy as more of a means to an end. They are focused on outcomes, and consider that parties’ organizational structures should help parties choose policies and personnel that reflect the preferences of their broader electorates or potential office partners. What’s more, they may be suspicious of granting too much internal democracy, since too much democratization could overly dilute the power of their inner leadership and make it difficult for that party to keep its promises to the electorate or coalition partners. Behind such views lies a well-articulated suspicion (the Law of Curvilinear Disparity –see May (1973)) that party activists tend to hold more extreme political views than the rest of a party’s supporters – and so maximizing the influence of members will drive away voters. Whether there is indeed such a trade-off between ‘extreme’ members and ‘moderate’ voters is disputed . Parties with more policy-seeking or democracy-seeking goals tend to regard intra- party democracy as a valid process in itself . For a start, they may regard members’ interests as prior or at least equivalent to, those of voters. Second, parties they may aim to act as an ‘incubators that nurture citizens’ political competence’, fostering their decision-making structures and processes in order to maximize citizen participation (Scarrow 1995). Third, those parties (like left parties) which aim at a radical transformation of society’s political practices, may aim to use their internal procedures explicitly as a test-bed for their future external aims. As did the Greens in the 1980s, the first step in changing wider society may

 be to change themselves.

Left parties and the Soviet ‘democratic’ legacy

Where do left parties fit more precisely into such schema? Traditionally, in the Soviet period, most might be seen as both ‘mass parties’ (formally speaking anyway), with an aspiration towards controlling the state in the interests of a proletarian constituency, and policy-seeking parties: After all they often disparaged seeking office or electoral success in ‘bourgeois’ society. ‘Better fewer but better’ said Lenin, i.e. small ideologically pure parties were preferable to larger revisionist ones (cf. McInnes 1975: 5) In the post-communist era, the situation is somewhat more muddled. While most left parties are still ‘policy-seeking’ in as much as they have a distinct (socialist) policies that they wish to put into practice, a large number are more open than ever to ‘office-seeking’ (as part of coalitions) (Bale and Dunphy 2007). Some larger parties might even be seen as ‘vote seeking’ in as much as they have built up a record of electoral success and appeal to a broad cross-class constituency well beyond their membership: parties such as AKEL and the Moldovan PCRM are these, while Die Linke’s cross-class support in the former GDR has been seen (particularly in the 1990s) as emulating an Eastern –German Volkspartei (Hough 2002). Accordingly, we can expect that left parties have increasingly divergent views about the role of intra-party democracy, with those parties that are increasingly vote- and office- seeking perhaps seeing this as less a good in itself . Nevertheless, the legacy of state socialism has a direct impact on left party’s views of intra-party democracy, simply because state socialism did have an explicit theory of intra-party democracy, namely democratic centralism. Soviet ideology distinguished between this concept (believed to combine the elective principle and administrative centralisation with maximum efficiency) from bureaucratic centralism (the overweening and arbitrary power of leading officials). Nevertheless, many non-party analysts argued that that the former necessarily begat the latter. Democratic centralism was designed for clandestine military take-over (and as such was a significant factor in the success of communist anti-Fascism during World War II). However, when democratic centralism was employed as a principle of party development (a purpose it was originally never designed for), it fostered extremely introverted organizations that developed structural rigidity and hierarchy -- ‘crunching inertia’ and bureaucratic dogmatism (Tiersky 1985: 49). Because they took secretive decisions which were then imposed on the party from above, democratic centralist parties were arguably prone to leadership dominance and erratic decision-making, but simultaneously unable either to respond sufficiently flexibly to sustained social and electoral opportunities, or provide adequate channels for rank-and-file policy input or dissent, leading to periodic schisms and purges (Botella and Ramiro 2003: 246; Waller 1981). Whether democratic centralism by itself necessitates authoritarianism outside the Soviet environment (where a one-party state with a strict ban on internal party fractions and a ‘brutalised’ political culture intensified it) can be doubted (e.g. the Italian PCI and Cypriot AKEL were always able to combine it with relatively moderate policies). Nevertheless, it is difficult to disagree with Rosa Luxemburg that the Soviet organisational model was an attempt to ‘freeze into a complete theoretical system’ tactics successful in very specific Russian circumstances (Luxemburg 1970: 79). The perpetual schisms of Trotskyist parties are indicative, due both to their obsession with ‘correct doctrine’ and above all their rigorous application of democratic centralism (Callaghan 1987). The communists themselves admitted that communist parties were ‘the general application of the Russian experience of the class war’ ( Peace and Socialism , cited in von Beyme 1985: 99).

 Certainly, as an instrument of political development rather than military takeover, the record of 20 th century indicates a tendency towards organisations prone sooner or later to develop structural rigidity, hierarchy and ideological dogmatism. Several observers argue that these structural rigidities prevented communist parties adapting to the challenges of the 1960s and 1970s (in particular the environmentalist and feminist challenges) in due time: causing belated and precipitate change (Waller 1988). When democratic centralism was belatedly relaxed in many parties during the 1980s, it often revealed already very divided parties. Moreover, the existence of Leninist internal principles was often (and still is) used by competitor parties as evidence that these parties did not ‘practice what they preach’ and respect societal democratic norms. As is well-known, ‘New Left’ and ‘New Politics’ parties from the 1960s onwards explicitly reacted against this model of intra-party democracy. The perceived bureaucratic and authoritarian structures of the existing Communist parties were a major catalyst for the New Left: ‘[d]istrust or outright rejection of hierarchy, tight organizational structures and traditional political manoeuvring and bargaining has…featured prominently in [the New Left’s] political ethos’ (Thompson 1997: 213). A lasting legacy was emergence of a new anti-establishment and extra-parliamentary politics based on ‘direct action, community organizing, ideals of participation, smaller-scale nonbureaucratic forms, the stress on grassroots, the bringing of politics down to everyday life’ (Eley 2002: 364). Much of the new left saw the ‘old left’ as being dogmatic, bureaucratic, integrated in the capitalist system and ‘basically senile (Munck 2007). ‘New politics’ parties explicitly adopted more participative forms of democracy, often successfully. For example, the Scandinavian new left’s adoption of a non-dogmatic, non-Leninist and national approach to Marxism from the 1960s onwards entailed the abandoning of democratic centralism, and can be regarded as critical in providing greater strategic and tactical flexibility that allowed Scandinavian parties to weather the collapse of the USSR better than many communists elsewhere. However, a wider tendency (most noticeable in the Italian Autonomist movement) was to reject traditional organisational forms (such as political parties and trade unions) and traditional labour-practices altogether in favour of ‘grass-roots’ personal and community self-expression (Wright 2002). Yet, if democratic centralism can be criticised for prioritising effectiveness over democracy (to the eventual detriment of its own effectiveness), New Politics organisational models can be criticised for the reverse: prioritising democracy over effectiveness. The classic example is the German Greens. In terms of party organisation, the early Green parties were true to their belief in Basisdemokratie or grass-roots democracy (cf. Poguntke 1989). In common with many New Politics groups, who sought to reject authoritarian and bureaucratic power structures, Green parties were extremely open and fluid. Die Grünen held party meetings that were open to all interested people, including non-party members, while various Green parties stated explicitly that their elected representatives could not be re-elected, to protect them against the ‘perversion of power’. Therefore the party’s officeholders were maximally subordinate to the party, and not vice versa (Scarrow 2005). Basisdemokratie contributed to open political warfare between Realos and Fundis and a number of resolutions that were unrepresentative of (or even embarrassing to) the wider party. Eventually, the Realos won the intra-party battle and hierarchised their organizations. For example, parties mostly changed their rules to place less weight on all-member meetings, and more on delegate conventions. Overall, then, left parties have two main organizational ideal-types that indicate the perils both of extreme centralization and extreme democracy. The post-Soviet context certainly indicates an (understandable) even greater move away from the hierarchical forms of organization represented by the classical model of democratic centralism. However, the dangers of extreme democratization need equally to borne in mind. With the rise of the

 Global Justice Movement, the more anarchistic sentiments within the movement have resurrected more movementist, anti-party sentiments on the level of practice and theory. For example, Subcomandante Marcos has declared ‘I shit on all the Revolutionary Vanguards’ (quoted in Tormey 2004: 132). Moreover, the work of Hardt and Negri (2000; 2004) and other theorists such as John Holloway (2005) implicitly denigrates the role of established workers’ organizations and political parties in favour of loosely structured, autonomous resistance movements. But parties are not movements: they have an electoral and parliamentary function which may entail entirely different balances between representation and effectiveness.

Options for party organization

What options are available for parties in structuring their internal party democracy? Susan Scarrow (2005) outlines some key terms that are useful for categorizing different party types, that I paraphrase in this section. These terms are not seen as polar opposites, but scales (all parties for example will exhibit these terms to a greater or lesser degree). Terms one and two are the related criteria of inclusiveness and centralization. These terms describe ways in which parties control access to such key governance tasks as selecting their leaders and choosing candidates for public office. Inclusiveness indicates the breadth of the circle of party decision makers. If parties are exclusive, decisions are controlled by a single leader or a small leadership group. In inclusive parties on the other hand, all party members, or even all party supporters, might be given the opportunity to decide on important issues, such as the choice of party leader or the selection of party candidates and there may be more opportunities for members/supporters to deliberate some way in advance of formal decision-making. Centralization describes the extent to which decisions are made by a single group or body. In the most centralized parties an executive committee meets frequently and has the authority to make decisions that are accepted at all levels of the party. Conversely, in highly decentralized parties, such a committee would meet less often and would focus more on co-ordination and communication than executive decisions. Exclusive party organizations tend to be centralized, but the reverse is not necessarily true (e.g. some national party leaders may promise full rights to individual members because they intend to weaken regional or local party subunits). Third, we might focus on organizational institutionalization (e.g. Randall and Svåsand 2002; Panebianco 1988). This term focuses on the degree to which internal decision procedures are formalized, and the extent to which the party has coordinated structures throughout its target constituency (e.g. electorate, region). Low institutionalization tends to be a characteristic of newer parties, primarily because developing formal structures and broad organizational networks takes time. Yet established parties are not necessarily highly institutionalized. In general, parties with high levels of intra-party democracy are highly institutionalized (since they need rules to define internal democratic procedures). However, high institutionalization and internal democratization are not coequal: highly institutionalized structures may even be very undemocratic because they have entrenched internal procedures that are difficult to change. Scarrow (2005) notes that institutionalization is difficult to achieve because in many cases, informal procedures and traditions may be more important than formal rules – in these parties, fuller institutionalization may be problematic; although it can strengthen parties as organizations, it may weaken leaders’ informal authority and followings and so be resisted by them. Scarrow further identifies five ideal-typical party organizational models based on the criteria of inclusiveness, centralization, and institutionalization (see Table 1). She doesn’t mention the Democratic Centralist Model, which I have added.

 1. The ‘leader-dominated’ party (e.g. Berlusconi’s in Italy) bases its appeal on the ‘charisma’ (personality and resources (political or financial)) of one individual. The leader can dominate decisions while holding a variety of formal positions within the organization—or even while holding none at all. Power is generally highly centralized, the party weakly institutionalized and there may be little concern about promoting intra-party democracy. This is generally not problematic for the party as long as its leader is an electoral plus, but these parties often suffer the problems of routinising charisma into more rational-legal authority as outlined by Max Weber – i.e. there are problems with leadership succession, personality-based conflicts within the party, leadership advancement and, given the absence of formalized conflict-settlement mechanisms, party factionalisation and splits 2. The ‘party of notables’ (‘cadre’ party). This is the historical type emerging in the nineteenth century, when parties generally emerged from legislative factions rather than individual charismatic leaders. They were weakly institutionalized, with loose decision-making procedures, comparatively weak legislative cohesion and ephemeral organizations that were generally dormant between elections. Structures linking the leadership with followers emerged belatedly and were loose and unformalised. Such parties were not (initially at least) concerned about internal democracy. Modern equivalents include parties structured around the resources and reputations of a group of like-minded elites and are decentralized and weakly institutionalized (a number of the post-communist parties fit this model, particularly Agrarian parties whose support base was in the collective farm sector).

Table 1: Scarrow’s Models Of Party Democracy

Type Centralization Inclusiveness Institutionalization 1. Dominant Leader High Low Generally low

2. Party of Notables Medium Low Low to medium 3. Individual Medium to Medium to Medium to high Representation high high 4. Democratic High Low Medium Centralist 5. Corporatist Medium to Medium Medium to high Representation high 6.Basis Democracy Low to High Medium to high medium

Source: Adapted from Scarrow (2005)

3. The ‘individual representation’ party . This term refers to the classical ‘mass’ parties (e.g. German SPD at the turn of the Twentieth Century) that built up large extra-parliamentary organizations to encapsulate disenfranchised constituencies. These organizations aimed to be democratic by enrolling and organizing their supporters and by representing individual or group interests at their party conventions. Their true degree of democracy was famously criticized by Roberto Michels (‘who says organization, says oligarchy.’ (Michels 1959)). Nevertheless, even though these parties have a degree of formal and informal centralization, their broadly inclusive democratic model resulted in a ‘contagion from the left’ in the 20 th century, with many parties across the political spectrum adopting similar organizational forms (Duverger 1957). 4. The ‘democratic centralist’ party. As noted, this combined formal aspirations towards democratic principles with a high degree of formal and informal centralization. The party allied aspirations towards workers’ democracy with a high degree of acknowledged elitism

 (as the workers’ vanguard). Party members combined rights with a high degree of responsibilities (in activism and propaganda, and overall a high emphasis on party discipline). High participation was in some cases virtually mandatory, but was channelled in the endorsement of pre-selected positions by the party leadership (e.g. via single-candidate indirect elections). Formal centralization co-existed with a high degree of informal control (especially over time), with many leadership cadres difficult to remove except via leadership purges or Moscow’s inclination. Such parties were highly institutionalized as structures, but their overall dependency on external authority (i.e. the USSR) often weakened their genuine party strength, particularly after the 1960s. 5. The ‘corporatist’ party. These are parties which have developed group-based internal representation, in which leaders of interested constituencies (e.g. church or trade union networks) have privileged positions within the party leadership bodies. Members of the represented groups are sometimes considered to be indirectly enrolled in the party as a result of their corporatist representation in it. (e.g. the UK Labour Party, Sweden’s Social Democrats). This model is found especially among parties of the left (indeed communist parties’ strong links with trade unions and other affiliated ‘front’ organizations show strong elements of such corporatism). Corporatist parties are strongly institutionalized (in terms of having strong group loyalties) but if the affiliated groups are weak (as with many contemporary communist parties), these mobilisational structures may be ineffective. More contemporary models which try to extend group representation beyond economic sectors (e.g. to women, younger people, the social movements) may be regarded as partially corporatist. The classic problem with such corporatist parties is reconciling group membership with the rights of individual members. 6. The ‘basis democracy’ party. As noted, this term is derived from the experience of Green parties in representing their party ‘bases’. Such parties tend to have highly inclusive procedures, such as the referendum which prioritizes broad participation in both deliberation and decision making, with party organizations thus providing a direct role for party supporters in important decisions. Often, basis democratic parties have had to institutionalize to a much greater degree than they initially intended, because clear rules were needed for governing intra-party democracy. Despite the hierarchisation of some basis democratic parties noted above, the model has had a knock on effect in other parties, which have adopted more participative processes such as party primaries to select candidates, party-wide ballots to select party leaders etc.

Left party organization: 6 case studies

The above organizational models are useful as overviews for categorizing different parties and their approach to intra-party democracy. In the ensuing section, I will look at six case studies of left party organization. These case studies are chosen to illustrate a range of different options: three communist parties that have varied traditional democratic centralist organizational models to differing degrees and three parties that have sought more explicitly to react against Marxism-Leninism and develop post-communist forms of party organization. I have not attempted (yet) to survey the whole range of possibilities available because of lack of data. In general, parties’ internal life is simply ‘extremely difficult to study’ (Mudde 2007: 267). Parties are secretive organisations to non-members (and sometimes even to them). Their membership and organisational data are regularly missing or inaccessible. This is particularly the case for left parties, whose internal life has seldom been comparatively analysed (Striethorst 2000: 89). Even with the case studies below, these should be regarded as a first stab at qualification and there may be some important data missing, or qualifications to be made. Nevertheless, where available, I will attempt to categorise parties using the concepts of centralization, inclusiveness and institituionalisation

by looking briefly at three main categories: formal party structure, candidate selection processes (internal leadership, external election) and policy formulation processes (role of leaders, members, groups, factions) (cf. Scarrow 2005; Janda 1980: 108; Keith, 2010: 30- 31).

The Portuguese Communist Party (PCP)

Formal party structure

There is little surprising in the structure of the PCP: this is a party consciously replicating the traditional organisational blueprint of a classical Marxist-Leninist party. The party sees itself as the ‘vanguard of the working class and of all working people’ with a ‘correct political line’ in which it educates its members (PCP 2011). It places great emphasis on workers’ discipline (‘in order to achieve a more profound democracy and to build socialism, workers' unity is absolutely necessary’). It adheres to democratic centralism, albeit after a 1992 change this is ‘creatively developing democratic centralism, responding to new situations and enriched by experience’, with a heavy emphasis on traditional propaganda and organisational obligations detailed in its constitution. The party is structured internally by the recognisable pyramidal form topped with a Central Committee, Secretariat and General Secretary.

Candidate selection processes

As in traditional communist parties, PCP members are heavily vetted: new memberships must be seconded by at least one Party member. Membership can easily be terminated for those who have ‘ceased to take part in the Party's life’ (PCP 2011, Art 11). Formally speaking, the party promotes ‘the election of all Party leadership bodies, from the bottom to the top’. However, even in the formal constitution, there are limits. The chief example is that the Congress, the party’s leading body, is not just constituted by delegates from the Party's bodies, but ‘by inherent right, by out-going Central Committee members and the Party members in the National Leadership of the Portuguese Communist Youth (JCP), and also by a limited number of delegates appointed by the Central Committee’ (Art 27). In addition, the Central Committee itself makes a proposal for its own re-election to Congress (Congress delegates may also make proposals) Such measures not only give a level of corporatist representation to the party’s youth group at the top level (probably for symbolic/electoral reasons, as the party membership is ageing), but institutionalise a self- perpetuating narrow leadership circle. In addition these executive bodies provide the day- to-day guidelines for lower bodies. What’s more, the party central office keeps close tabs on its electoral representatives. According to Article 54 ‘It is their political and moral duty to always be accountable for their activity and to always have their mandates at the Party's disposal’. In practice, although the PCP portrays itself as a bastion of democracy with a widespread debate through its party organs, informal processes mean that the party is in fact even more centralised and exclusive that its constitution indicates. A narrow group of self-selected leaders have restricted elite advancement practices and exercised heavy control over candidate selection through formal and informal rules (Keith 2010a, 2010b). For example, regional officials tightly control the selection of congress delegates by pressuring local party leaders not to select troublemakers. Leadership control is reinforced through the appointment of functionaries on the party payroll as congress delegates (over half the delegates at most congresses since 1974). Conducting congress votes by a show of hands enabled the leadership to identify any rebels: this practice was outlawed by parliament but

even secret ballots have not fundamentally undermined a culture of unanimity. In practice, congress delegates vote on the leadership’s proposals for a single programme and a single list for the CC with very minimal chance for amendment. Elected officials pay most of their salary to the party (van Biezen 2000a: 400, 2000b: 333). It is alleged that they sign resignation letter in advance, and that the party keeps files on them in case their ‘dirty linen’ ever needs to be used against them (Keith 2010). The main indication of leadership control is that the General Secretaries sit on most or all of the leadership institutions (e.g. Central Committee, Secretariat, Political Committee) and exercise formidable behind the scenes control. For example, Alvaro Cunhal’s Secretariat handled the party’s finances, ran communications and directed its organisation; his Political Commission made policy documents while tightly controlling ancillary organisations and elected officials (Cunha 1992: 328). Most notably, Cunhal long delayed a change of leadership. He retired as Secretary-General aged 79 in 1992, but chose his successor Carlos Carvalhas and then intervened in 2000 to publicly denounce Carvalhas’s reformist leanings and personally instruct the Secretariat to delete reformist passages from the party programme (see Dunphy 2004: 119). After Carvalhas was replaced by Jeronimo de Sousa under the instigation the ‘old guard’ in 2005, a more collective leadership has emerged, but one that keeps policy reform to a minimum. According to critics, there is even less toleration than under Cunhal and there is less room for ideological pluralism in the elite (Keith 2010).

Policy formulation processes

Symptomatically, the leadership has been heavily dominant in policy formulation. Horizontal discussion between local organisations is prohibited to prevent the formation of factions (Raby 1989: 222). Especially from the 1980s onwards there have been successive movements within the party to democratise its internal procedures and moderate its programmatic practices. In general, these movements have been either co-opted or (more commonly) simply crushed, forcing dissidents to exhibit loyalty to the party or ‘exit’ it altogether rather than ‘voice’ their discontent within. Party discipline can be vicious, for example, Cunhal ruthlessly made party dissident Zita Seabra’s ex-husband Carlos Brito announce her expulsion in January 1990 and she was threatened, intimidated and spied on (Keith 2010). The only time that dissenting groups have had much traction within the party was in the 1990s as a group of ‘renovadores’ influenced the policies of the Carvalhas leadership, leading him towards policies such as electing, not appointing officials, promoting cooperation with other political forces (such as the PS) and engaging in more open intellectual debate (Cunha 2003: 119). Normally, the practices of democratic centralism are enough to prevent party dissidents organising. Moreover, the leadership keeps tabs on real and potential critics, monitoring their views and forming committees to periodically install discipline and has traditionally hand-picked the most loyal and disciplined communists for central leadership. Despite the party’s proletarian ideology, trade unionists were generally under-represented in the leadership lest they have an independent influence (Keith 2010). Overall, we have a party which replicates the most traditional democratic centralist model, with highly centralised policy-making among a highly exclusive (narrow, self- selecting) political elite. The only key change is that the party is highly institutionalised (a lot of the above practices are outlined in the Party constitution, although they are supplemented and intensified by informal practices). Externally, although the party has suffered electorally and in membership terms since the collapse of the Soviet Union, it still mobilises a relatively stable subculture: therefore the degree of its institutionalisation appears only to have increased since 1991.

! Party of Communists of the Republic of Moldova (PCRM)

Formal party structure

Formally speaking, there are only nuances to distinguish the PCRM statute from that of the PCP’s constitution. Demonstrating a slight movement from orthodoxy, the PCRM is headed by a Chairman, not General Secretary, and its rules make several declarations about democratic principles – e.g. the party aims to implement ‘principles of humanism, democracy and collectivism, the supremacy of law, people’s power, assurance of equality of rights (PCRM 2008). The party is governed by Marxism-Leninist theory but taking into account ‘its evolution and completion with current knowledge’. Elsewhere, the statutes demonstrate a more pluralist and inclusive membership ethos than the PCP, declaring that party membership is compatible with fundamental civil rights, including freedom of conscience (Art 1). The party commits itself to a ‘ broad democratization of party life, creating conditions for free expression of opinions, constructive criticism and debate’ (Art II, 11). There is no evidence from the statutes that the central leadership helps select its own composition (as with the PCP), nor does the party aim to ‘vet’ its elected representatives to such a great degree. These are allowed to suspend party membership if legislation demands, and to form party factions and groups with the approval of the party. On the other hand, the PCRM does still claim to be a vanguard party, adheres to democratic centralism and exhorts members to fight ‘any manifestation of opportunism, sectarianism and fractionalism’ (Article 1). Ideological and organizational unity is extolled and fractions ‘ with discipline and internal structure’ are explicitly forbidden (Art V. 25). So this is very much a minor variation on a traditional theme.

Candidate selection

As far as is evident, the PCRM operates a centralized approach to candidate selection, but still aims to be considerably more inclusive than the PCP. For instance, as with the PCP, the party’s executive bodies (Central Committee, Secretariat and Political Executive Committee, Central Control Commission) dominate the organization of party congresses and their agendas, approve the party employees and set its budget. The leading group is relatively pluralist, with CC Secretaries also sitting on the Political Executive Committee. The PEC (which oversees the implementation of decisions and hires party personnel) can take decisions on CC matters, but these have to be approved by a CC plenum (Art VI.40). In practice, the CC tends to meet before all key party decisions, such as entering coalition negotiations with other parties. As with the PCP, informal processes make the party more centralised than it might appear. In practice, since its re-emergence from prohibition in 1994, the PCRM has been dominated almost completely by its long-time chairman, Vladimir Voronin, who has had a charismatic, personalist hold over the party. Voronin is credited by party supporters with bravery and exceptional leadership in refounding the party almost single-handedly when other former leaders were unwilling to do so (Stoicov 2003). Unlike many traditional Communist leaders, throughout the late 1990s and 2000s he had a strong personal appeal that extended well beyond the party organisation (for instance he was Moldova’s most popular domestic politician by a wide margin). Voronin’s manner of personnel choice was evidenced when the PCRM was in government (2001-9) by a practice of constantly rotating cadres with little public explanation (according to critics, this was partly to hamstring ambitious leaders). One key example was the sacking of long-time ally, PM Vasile Tarlev in 2008 a year before the 2009

 elections to be replaced by a party loyalist, Zinaida Grecheanii. It was also alleged, that like the PCP, the party keeps kompromat (dirty material) on certain allies (like Tarlev) to keep them loyal. Similarly, although formally speaking it is more difficult to become a PCRM member than a PCP member (members need 2 letter recommendations from existing members of two-year’s standing), the PCRM has distributed political patronage fairly widely – for instance, regularly allowing a number of non-party candidates on its party list. In 2001, the party had not expected to win the elections by such a huge majority, leading it to have insufficient qualified candidates for parliament (allegedly, Voronin’s driver was listed on the PCRM party list as an ‘engineer’). Later, it sought to expand its cadre potential by giving party membership to non-party members of the political elite (for example, Marian Lupu, parliamentary speaker in 2005-9, announced his membership of the PCRM after the party had supported his candidature).

Policy formulation

Pluralism certainly exists within the PCRM, but despite internal strains that increased in office, the PRCM remained remarkably publicly unified and centralized, with only one serious split up to 2009 (in 1996, over the selection of leadership candidates for the presidential elections) (Mosneaga 1998). Part of this is due to the relative ideological homogeneity and small size of the party (it has generally been orientated towards office- seeking and has relatively few hardliners, still less Stalinists) (March 2005). Nevertheless, many of the key leaders, including former CC Secretary Victor Stepaniuc, former Parliamentary speaker Eugenia Ostapciuc, and ex-Prime Minister Tarlev demonstrated both absolute public loyalty to Voronin and no independent public profile, still less charisma. Indicative of the informal nature of the party hierarchy is the role of Mark Tkaciuk, considered the Party’s eminence grise and party no. 2 even when one of Voronin’s Presidential Advisors. According to some critics, the party is governed in a very centralised fashion. For example, in 2010 Iacob Timciuc, one of the party’s oldest members, announced he was leaving the party and accused the PCRM of turning into ‘an “anti- national” party because a small group has taken over and promotes certain people in the ranks’ (PoliticomMoldova.org 2010). Characteristically, when the party did suffer more damaging splits in 2009-10 (for example 5 members of its parliamentary faction quit in 2009) this was only once Voronin could no longer run for president and had failed to secure the election of his preferred presidential successor Grecheanii – his charismatic resources were then clearly in decline. Such has been his centrality to the party that some analysts have cast doubt on the PCRM’s long-term survival when and if Voronin (aged 70 in 2011) demits the Party leadership. Overall, the PCRM appears highly centralised, with some aspects of a ‘dominant leader’ party. Relative to the PCP, it is clearly more inclusive in its candidate selection patterns, although there appears a consistent element of top-down patronage rather than true bottom-up democracy. However, the informal elements in the party’s regular operation (these also are present also in the party’s frequent ideological and strategic zigzags) indicates that the party is less institutionalised than the PCP. On one hand, the party has a nationwide structure which allows it to compete strongly in local elections and carry out ‘door-to-door, eye-to-eye’ campaigning to a greater degree than other parties. On the other hand, its membership increased three-fold from 9728 in 2000 to over 30,000 by 2006, indicating perhaps a high-degree of office-seeking or even opportunistic membership that might not outlast the party’s loss of executive office in 2009 (e.g. March 2005).



Table 2: Left Party Models Of Party Organization

PCP High Low Medium-high PCRM High Medium Low KSCM High Low-Medium Medium SP High Medium Medium PRC Low High Low Bloco Medium Medium Low-Medium

Communist Party of Bohemia and Moravia (KSCM)

Formal party structure

Unlike the two aforementioned parties, the KSCM claims to be a Marxist, not Leninist party (the programme is based on ‘Marxist theory of an open dialogue with the international communist and leftist movements, new ideas and knowledge ’ (KSCM 2010 Art II) and its internal principles show considerable deviation from the Leninist model. As part of a partial democratization in 1990-3 under then leader Jiri Svoboda, the party has oriented itself to being a ‘ mass party, which operates on the basis of discussions and decisions of the collectivity, and general principles of self intraparty democracy’ (KSCM 2010, Art II). Accordingly, the KSćM’s documents show a commitment to a participative and pluralistic socialism. Democracy is seen not ‘as a fashionable slogan but as a categorical demand’ (KSćM 2007), and this demand is buttressed by numerous references to once- scorned workers’ self-management ( samospráva ) and direct democracy, although the early 1990s references to ‘democratic socialism’ have been replaced by a ‘modern socialism’ for the sake of party conservatives. As a consequence (KSCM 2010 Art V 25-26), the party claims that ‘the source of all decisions in the Communist Party is the demonstrated will of the democratic members’ and that decisions should apply ‘the principles of intraparty democracy, autonomy, and collectivism’. There is little explicit mention in the statutes about discipline (although higher-level resolutions are binding on lower-level ones), none about democratic centralism, nor as with the PCP and PCRM do new members need to be invited by existing ones: they can apply on their own initiative (KSCM 2010, Art II A.7). Unlike the other two communist parties, the major issues can be decided by referendum, and Communist organs are explicitly allowed horizontal forms of organisation. In other respects, the party is more traditional, with a Party Congress meeting every four years to vote on the programme, elect the Party Chair and Chair of the Decision and Auditing Commission.

Candidate selection processes (internal leadership, external election)

The KSCM is relatively open in its candidate selection process. The party leader is decided by competitive vote (albeit this is the only really competitive vote) (Holubec 2009). Intra- party democracy is de facto weakened because the KSCM’s base members are old, de- motivated and overall relatively inactive, seeking largely ritualistic replications of the communist past. This gives greater power to the mid-level party activists who form the CC and the basis of its municipal and regional cadres. It is alleged that some of these functionaries have attempted to pass their positions on to their children (Ibid). As with the other communist parties, Congress material and party candidates are decided by the party apparatus and merely endorsed by party members, although there is fairly wide-ranging debate at congresses within the overall parameters set by the party leadership.

 The party is strongly orientated towards parliamentary practice and has been generally pragmatic in its overall candidate selection; seeking coalitions such as the in the early 1990s and becoming increasingly pragmatic by the 2000s as it has sought to escape its electoral ghetto. For instance, it has offered seats on its party list to the tiny Czech Party of Democratic Socialism at European and Council level (albeit these are at a relatively low place on the list). For example in the 2009 elections the SDS had two unsuccessful candidates (Jiri Hudecek and Ledley Lubomír) at no 9 and 15 on the KSCM list (only the top four got seats). The KSCM has also increasingly sought pragmatic relations with the Social Democratic Party, especially at regional level (e.g. Holubec 2010). However, it still faces a de facto cordon sanitaire at national level and neither the Communists nor Social Democrats are yet willing to countenance more than an informal support arrangement.

Policy formulation processes

Party internal democracy is less substantive than it appears. The referendum function has been used only once (in 1991, to choose the party name), while since 1993 party platforms have been banned. Since then, the party has been relatively ideologically consolidated (many democratic socialists and social democrats left the party in the early 1990s as it developed a more nostalgic direction). However, it has continued to suffer periodic problems of internal control: the partial reinstitution of democratic centralism in 1993 was too little to late to prevent a real devolution of control that occurred in the transition from the former ruling party. Since the party leadership has been unwilling to antagonize a largely nostalgic membership base, and preserves a rhetorical commitment to intra-party democracy, this has placed real limits on substantive policy change (Grzymala-Busse 2002). The party has remained a ‘subcultural party’, socially isolated and concentrating on providing identity and networks for its supporters rather than broadening its electorate (Hanley 2002). Overall, though the leadership party is relatively consolidated round conservative positions: there are internal divisions: the main group is ‘conservatives’ (or ‘nostalgics’) who want to defend the past: these are dominant in the party’s leading organs and its party newspaper Halo Noviny , thereby limiting intra-party debate (Holubec 2009: Handl 2005). ‘Neo-communists’ are more critical of the communist past, orientate themselves towards non-communist left parties such as Die Linke and are more pragmatic and business- orientated. Genuine democratic socialists are few and isolated. The leadership arbitrates between the two streams and the balance periodically shifts, although the conservatism of the party base tends to reinforce traditional identity and discourse. Leadership disputes have emerged: for instance former leader Miroslav GrebeníČek resigned unexpectedly in 2005 complaining of policy disagreements. His replacement VojtWch Filip has a more modern, media-friendly image, but has largely aimed to keep the intra-party equilibrium. Stanislav Holubec (2009; 2010) points to some examples indicating that the KSCM’s internal culture lacks mechanisms of transparency, control and even general competence: for example in 2007, the party tried to sell its Prague headquarters. After finding out that its own vice-chairman for finance had signed an unfavourable contract, the party cancelled the contract and was sued for a high fee by the purchasing company. In 2009, deputy party chair JiXí DolejŠ was caught in a newspaper sting accepting a 40,000 ¤ bribe for voting and had to be sacked. Overall, although the party’s internal procedures are generally formally democratic and inclusive, the mechanisms whereby conservative party functionaries maintain control of the party leadership bodies and agenda mean that this formal democracy still exists with a high degree of internal centralisation. The party remains a large high-membership

 organisation, still one of Eastern Europe’s largest with some 66 thousand members in 2010. This partially validates its claim to be a mass party. However, the party is not fully institutionalised: the evidence of informal, even corrupt leadership practices co-exists with a generally passive membership who is both very aged (the majority over 70), and declining at a rate of nearly 10 percent annually. This clearly limits the party’s basic ability to plan, co- ordinate and campaign.

Socialist Party (Netherlands)

Formal party structure

Formally, the SP operates a highly participative and democratic internal culture, arguing that ‘unprecedented numbers are actively involved in their party – a good 38%, or well over a third of the membership’ (SP 2011). For the SP, ‘it is the members who take the decisions’ (Ibid). Party members directly elect representatives to the Party Congress and directly-elected chairs of each local branch sit on the party’s highest decision-making body (the Party Council). Lengthy party discussion precedes Congress resolutions, national candidates’ lists, the election programme and ‘all important decisions’ are first of all subjected to lengthy discussions in branches. Every SP member is included in one of the local branches (‘the party's eyes and ears, its arms and legs’) and ‘can participate in meetings, training sessions, courses and a whole range of activities.’ Nevertheless, the situation is not quite as Utopianly democratic as it appears, even formally. For example, the SP factions in both houses of parliament appoint members to the executive Board, while at least 9 members of the executive are appointed on nomination of the congress, giving the top leadership a not-insignificant representation on the leading bodies (SP 2009). Currently the balance is 21 regional representatives, and 15 appointees, including the parliament heads and MEPs. Participative membership comes with significant obligations, the most important of which is that elected members of the Party (from local council level upwards) donate their entire salary to the party and are then paid directly from party funds an ‘average worker’s wage’ (it should be noted that the SP is not unique in this regard; the Scottish Socialists and Danish Red-Green Alliance have operated similar principles). Violating this procedure will result in party expulsion (Wirries 2010). There is some doubt about whether the number of ‘active members’ are actually as active as the SP claims (Voerman 2008)

Candidate selection processes (internal leadership, external election)

Informal procedures actually make the SP far more centralized than it appears at first glance. In its first 15 years of existence as a post-Maoist party, the SP was ‘ a small cadre party with an authoritarian chairman’ (Daan Monjé) (Wirries 2010). However, younger more pragmatic elites headed by new leader Jan Marijnissen used democratic centralism to centralize the SP after 1988 before jettisoning the formal processes of democratic centralism in the early 1990s (Keith 2010). For two decades under Marijnissen, the SP took on the aspect of a ‘dominant leader’ party. Marijnissen was an archetypal charismatic, even populist leader, with an earthy appeal that transcended his party (McGiffen 2006; Marijnissen 2006). Marijnissen and his colleagues dominated the central party structures to such a degree that his immediate successors Agnes Kant (2008-10) and Emil Roemer (2010-) were to some degree his protégés. They were appointed to the Head of the parliamentary faction without competition ( de facto in the Dutch parliamentary system, the parliamentary leader is more powerful than the party leader). Dan Keith (2010) argues that despite much external ideological change after 2000,

 the SP actually remained nearly as centralised as before 1990. For instance, its emphasis on the Maoist ‘mass line’ generated its adaptable and a-theoretical working-class populism (Voerman 2008). The emphasis on activism rather than theory has limited room for extensive discussion. The party could thereafter easily swiftly justify enormous changes in its policy line on the basis that ‘this is what the people want’. As a result of Marijnissen’s centralisation, the party leadership retained broad powers to intervene in the affairs of local branches and to co-ordinate campaigns, and controlled the party paper Tribune (Keith 2010; Wirries 2010). Party leaders regularly visit and receive reports from the regions. The party statutes allow disobedient local branches simply to be excommunicated (SP 2010). Party branches send one delegate per 50 members to congresses, even though most other Dutch parties allow all members to attend congress. Congress proceedings are dominated by leaders who can respond to several motions simultaneously (Keith 2010). Over time, a party ‘inner circle’ has grown up: advancement to the elite is slow and methodical, as new entrants have to prove their loyalty over time and through internal training courses (Keith 2010). The party’s key leaders (especially regional ones) are paid out of the party payroll, given political instruction, work closely with the inner circle and ensure that a party line is followed in local campaigns. Overall, the leadership remained control over elite advancement and policy formulation, including by forming a team of media consultants outside the party’s control. There have been some suggestions that party decisions have been ‘pre-cooked’ (i.e. the inner circle works out a policy line which they then suggest to the membership); indicatively leadership lists for parliamentary candidates are always accepted and its lists for the executive Board have only once been modified by Congress (Keith 2010) Outside the party, the SP has been increasingly inclusive in its coalition strategy as it has moved from a protest party to one that considers government coalition. It has sought to appoint experienced cadres to leading positions. For example, the former GroenLinks national vice-chair Erik Meijer joined the SP in 1996 and became its first MEP in 1999. Former Labour Party member joined the SP in 2003 and became an SP MEP in 2009. Moreover, the SP has proved increasingly pragmatic at local level. It joined governing coalitions in several large cities, such as Eindhoven (2002-) Groningen (2006-) and Nijmegen (2002-). Its preferred coalition partners were the left-wing PvdA or GroenLinks (e.g. in Nijmegen) but the Christian Democratic Appeal (CDA) and even market liberal People's and Democracy (VVD) were also acceptable (e.g. in Groningen from 2002-6).

Policy formulation processes

The SP remains internally a highly unified party. Members are taught to value strong- leadership, quick decision-making, party loyalty and unity (Keith 2010). Therefore democratic centralism still exists as an informal binding code even if it has been formally abolished Internal factions are (informally) prohibited and the party has not sought to create quasi-corporatist representation for gender or ethnic minorities. As a consequence, there are no readily identifiable party currents or major ideological discrepancies between key leaders. Dissidents have been few, isolated, and easily removed. Tendencies which have the potential to develop into party factions have been dissolved or expelled, particularly small Trotskyist groupuscules. When dissidents have threatened the leadership they have been almost instantly expelled (as with Board member Duzgun Yildirim, who was voted to the Dutch against the leadership’s wishes in 2007) Overall, the SP combines a high-level of mass activism with a consistently high degree of centralism: this potential paradox is manageable because of a party ethos that demands a high level of loyalty, practical, pragmatic action, and which does not encourage

 ideological debate. The inner circle of the party is relatively consolidated and exclusive (based around leaders such as Marijnissen and Tiny Cox who have been at the core of operations for two decades, and loyal, well-trained new adherents), but has become more inclusive (outside the party at least) as the party has sought to build coalitions to extend its electoral influence. As an organisation, the party is relatively institutionalised, with a large mass membership (albeit now declining slightly) and a complex internal structure. However, as noted above, much of the party’s formally democratic functioning is supplemented, if not subverted, by a culture of discipline and informal mechanisms that consolidate the authority of leading cadres.

Party of Communist Refoundation (Rifondazione)

Formal party structure

As a complete contrast to the aforementioned examples, Rifondazione was formed as an antidote to the perceived hyper-centralism of the former communist movement with the guiding aim of ‘refounding’ communism through strategic and tactical flexibility. From the outset, the party pitched itself broadly to ‘all those inspired by socialist values and Marxist thought’ (Hudson 2000: 98). This breadth worked; Rifondazione soon came to encompass various left traditions, from the PCI’s left wing (principally pro-Soviet Cossuttiani led by Armando Cossutta and left-leaning Eurocommunists), to much of the new left (Dunphy 2004: 88). When the party merged with Rifondazione in June 1991, it brought with it an anti-Soviet tradition strongly influenced by autonomism, environmentalism, feminism, Trotskyism and Maoism. The party’s self-realisation as a qualitatively new kind of communist mass party was self-evident in its statutes. Rifondazione rejected ‘authoritarian and bureaucratic, Stalinist … socialism’ (PRC 2007). It jettisoned principles of democratic centralism and forced unity, and promoted principles of open-ness and inclusivity, not just within the party (allowing the direct inclusion of party members in decision-making) but outside the party, allowing the contamination of the party by different cultures such as feminism, the anti- globalization movement, the Environmental movement, peace movement, and the inclusion of supporters (not just party members) within decision-making via ‘thematic networks’ (PRC 2007; Art 4.3) (Hagemann 2010). Any unanimity or hierarchy was explicitly rejected, with the accent on intra-party diversity and pluralism of opinions. Party members were even allowed to express their views externally (as such there was no ‘party line’). Although permanent party fractions were forbidden, party tendencies were able to organise within intra-party discussions. The PRC committed itself to secret ballot voting and equal gender representation, with specific conferences for women, workers and youth sections. Overall this was a deeply participative model of basis democracy.

Candidate selection processes

Rifondazione became a role model for the wider European left as a pluralist inclusive party that incorporated communist, libertarian, feminist, parliamentary and extra-parliamentary elements, thereby overcoming historical enmities and proposing a diverse, open, and non- dogmatic anti-capitalism. Nevertheless, as Angelo Panebianco notes (1988), a party’s origins can overshadow its later development. In Rifondazione’s case, the heterogeneity of its origins as the product of leaders/movements with independent power bases and resources, alongside a strong autonomist ethos, proved problematic in the longer term: having abandoned democratic centralism, the party proved fissiparous and hyper-

 democratic in its internal life, with party splits a constant threat and the leadership unable to impose its authority (Newell 2010). The party developed a federative, even movementist ethos as a collection of disparate regional and leadership nodes: indicatively it did not develop a party programme. AS Hagemann (2010) argues, the party became a ‘melting pot of different “souls” with ‘no process that could establish a genuine synthesis of this diversity’. As Mimmo Porcaro (2010) argues, the party was a merger if political families that already existed at national level, each with its own culture, their own traditional organisation and personal following. Strong tendencies towards the personalisation of politics in Italy only increased this tendency (Bertolino 2008). Frequent party meetings concentrated on activism to the exclusion of more lasting stategy. The requirement that party members re-affirm their membership annually helped promote a high fluidity of membership that contributed to a general organisational fractiousness. The overall level of activism was not always high. For example, the ‘Conference of the Communist Women’ indicated in the statutes as a major instrument of policy-making was not convoked at all after 2000. Only 33.1 percent of party members declared that they were active in party work (Hagemann 2010). Nevertheless, Party congresses became the scene for vigorous competition between intra-party tendencies (for instance at its 2005 congress, Rifondazione had five main tendencies: supporters of the Bertinotti leadership (59 percent of delegates); those favouring the moderate Cossutta line (26 percent), and three neo-Trotskyist tendencies that together accounted for some 15 percent (Albertazzi et al, 2007: 10). The open-ness to outside organisations facilitated the thorough entrism by Trotskyist groups who were numerically weak but vocal about the leadership’s perceived mistakes, including electoral alliance with the centre-left, and any participation in political institutions. The central party leadership developed a lose co-ordinating role and the party developed a certain personalist appeal around Fausto Bertinotti’s charisma. However, the party was prone to splits as often around personal issues as ideological – the departure of Cossutta and Diliberto aimed to form a less truer to the gradualism of Togliatti and Berlinguer, but one which was also heavily dependent on the personal reputation of these key leaders. Their departure allowed the temporary consolidation of the party around the Bertinotti group, and he gradually proceeded to attempt to centralise decision-making in response to the party’s changing electoral incentives (e.g. the need for electoral coalitions, and the need to orientate the party towards office-seeking and state funding as its membership dwindled) (Albertazzi et al 2007). This tended to insulate the parliamentary leadership from the wider party (e.g. it agreed a platform with the Centre- Left in 2006 with little reference to long-articulated goals) (Porcaro 2009). Overall, centralising decision-making proved disastrous because certain central decisions were themselves disastrous (especially the forced ‘Rainbow Left’ coalition, which was done rapidly in response to changing electoral legislation in a top-down way the membership could barely understand). Moreover, the ‘electoral professional’ party image contrasted directly with the mass and movementist party image that Rifondazione had cultivated until c 2004.

Policy formulation processes

As is evident, Rifondazione became a highly factionalised party with little policy consensus and prone to damaging splits: the most damaging in the 1990s was the formation of the PdCI, which cost the party two thirds of the party fraction and over 20,000 members. These were among the most office-seeking cadres, pushing the party further in a policy- seeking direction.

 The departure of the Vendola faction to form SeL in 2008 leaves the party with a vastly diminished membership and but slim chance of regaining a seat in parliament. Overall, the party could not establish a clear political line or ‘party loyalty’ and intra-party tendencies formed organised factions in defiance of party statutes (Porcaro 2010). The overall incoherence was most disastrously apparent in government in 2006-8 when Rifondazione tried to keep one foot in and one out of government. Overall, Rifondazione betrays some of the weaknesses of a classical basis democratic party (one which is highly decentralised and inclusive). The party leadership could rarely impose its will in a coherent way, and maximum inclusiveness and representation led to minimal effectiveness. But, unlike many basis democratic parties, Rifondazione can never be seen as fully institutionalised: it had clear democratic procedures established in its statutes to be sure, but its regionalised and federalised basis made it more like a network than a coherent party, its high membership turnover contributed to organisational amorphousness and it could not even compensate by strong control over social organisations (its hold on trade unions declining and it rather being ‘colonised’ by the movements than the reverse.). In general, it had weak rooted-ness in civil society, with perhaps 50% of its entire organisational network existing only on paper (Bertolino 2008). Rifondazione possessed an extra-parliamentary, movementist and hyper-democratic ethos that was only strengthened by the loss of the Cossuttiani in 1998 and the ‘turn to the movements’ in 2002. This ethos was an important element of the party’s ‘refounded’ identity but made it prone to internal fission and encouraged important minorities within the party to take an unaccommodating stance towards political compromise that increasingly conflicted with the office-seeking strategies imposed by its ‘electoral professional’ leadership.

Left Bloc (Bloco de Esquerda) ()

Formal party structure

Bloco emerged as an electoral coalition of three small left parties, the Maoist People's Democratic Union, Trotskyist Revolutionary Socialist Party (PSR) and communist dissident Politics XXI, all of which had moved increasingly towards electoral and policy co- ordination throughout the 1990, alongside various left-wing independents. Its founders saw it as new type of left counter-posed to the sectarian PCP, the traditional hyper- ideologisation of the extreme left, and neo-liberal Socialists. It was a non-sectarian unity- focused alliance with an identity arising ‘out of a programme for the present and not from a discussion of the past or an attempt at ideological purification’, i.e. very much on the practical issues of the here and now. (Soeiro 2009: 177). The new party was heavily influenced by the example of Rifondazione and the post-Seattle social movements, and saw itself as a ‘broad left’ pluralist organisation. Indeed the party itself was originally more movement than party, with collective leadership and close links with social movements, but by 2005 Bloco had become a fully-fledged party under the primary leadership of Francisco Louçã. Accordingly, the party statutes reflect ‘ a culture of civic participation’ with democratic representation and participation extolled (Bloco 2009; Art 1.). Sanctions may not be applied for ‘differences of political opinion’ (Art 6.5), while membership groups of five minimum can form ‘nuclei’ which organise in the manner they deem most appropriate, subject to ratification by a higher party body (Art 15). Most party bodies are elected directly and proportionately by secret ballot according to a principal of gender equality. However, at the higher level, the election is more indirect: the highest party body is the National Convention (elected by party members); this elects the National Board, which directs the

 Bloco between conventions. This in turn elects the 16-member Political Committee which implements its decisions (Art 8). Party trends are allowed to organise to defend political platforms and to advertise via the party press, although at least one member of the National Bureau or Rights Commission (which polices the statutes) must sign their platform (Bloco 2007).

Candidate selection processes

The process of selecting candidates is fairly inclusive, with Regional or District Assemblies proposing candidates for public office. However, the party leadership has the last word since the National Board ratifies these proposals. As with all other parties mentioned here, the leadership does maintain control through informal mechanisms. A certain centralization has been noticeable after 2005, with Bloco’s founding parties transforming themselves into associations (e.g. the PSR became ‘Revolutionary Socialist Politics’). From the outset, the party’s formation from small constituent parties (with an initial membership of just 1000) and dependence on its parliamentary resources led it towards an increasing orientation towards the media (Lisi 2009: 8; Tsakatika 2010). In practice, the indirect election of the leading bodies has allowed a small circle of leaders to maintain dominance over decision-making. This tendency has been increased by the deliberate aspiration towards unity, promoting a consensus-based culture at the top level (Tsakatika 2010). Above all, the founding factions maintain an informal power- sharing agreement and ‘division of labour’ at the top. The three leading factions submit one common motion in party conventions which obtains about 80% of the votes and seats in the National Board. The Party’s top body, the Political Committee, is dominated by the three majority factions, with trade unionists, social movement representatives and regional leaders. Most are MPs and only the four founding leaders have been members of this body from the start, indicating both their prestige and authority. Tight unity of the factions at the top excludes radically dissenting voices and has led to complaints that the ‘non-aligned’ are excluded from essential decision-making (a pertinent sentiment given that only c. 15% of members actively participate in the factions). Essentially, this means that there is a stable oligarchy at the apex which is partially insulated from its mass membership. Outside the party ranks, Bloco promotes broadly inclusive networking policies like Rifondazione. The party’s orientation towards obtaining broad social majorities on practical issues means that it works in a pragmatic way with all actors and all methods that might guarantee this. For instance, the party has promoted a number of open initiatives, whether for political or theoretical debate, as with the ‘socialism initiative’, a forum in which many protagonists of science, culture, art and politics developed reflection on various topic. In its election programmes, Bloco consults a broad number of non-party actors from different areas (from business to culture, from health to education) in order to demonstrate its governing competence (Soeiro 2010).

Policy formulation processes

Accordingly, of all the parties mentioned here, Bloco perhaps optimally combines representation and effectiveness. Its internal procedures are quite consciously modelled on Rifondazione, although the founding moment (the emphasis on Unitarian non- sectarianism, the lack of leaders and parties with strong independent support bases) has been far more propitious to the formulation of a generally inclusive party. As a more genuinely new party, the Bloco leadership have been able to shape the direction of the party in a far more co-ordinated and consistent way than Rifondazione’s (it must be said also that the external constraints on the party have been generally more benign, since it has

! not been forced into coalition and does not face discriminatory electoral laws). Bloco is not without internal discontent. For example, the watering down of traditional commitments such as a 35-hour week and party list gender quotas caused some internal disquiet, leading to intra-party calls for explicitly socialist policies to break with capitalism, and a more critical attitude to the governing PS (Bloco 2006a). In response, several party platforms reinforced a militant image, describing Bloco as a ‘socialist alternative’ with the capacity to build platforms and a plural majority of resistance to militarism and privatization. (Bloco 2006b). The Trotskyist faction Ruptura (gaining 11% of the votes at the 2009 convention) has been critical of some party positions (particularly over Europe) but remains marginal. Overall, despite firm leadership control over central direction, the internal party culture remains tolerant: for example all ‘sensibilities’ within Bloco are not hindered by others in cultivating relations with their preferred networks (Tsakatika 2010). However, Bloco like Rifondazione remains weakly institutionalised, albeit it is not nearly so regionally divided. It has low levels of penetration in the regions (particularly outside large urban centres), weak links with trade unions and has generally performed poorly at local level. In this it has begun to improve (371 local representatives in 2009 compared with 78 in 2001), and can increasingly be regarded as a truly nationwide organization (CNE 2009). Nevertheless, it lags far behind the PCP in this regard.

Conclusions

The above analysis sought to identify some of the main patterns in intra-party democracy, both for parties in general and for left parties in particular. It has not sought to analyse every party for reasons of absence of data. Moreover, the opaqueness of many party internal procedures means that the author is happy if his initial views receive correction and amendment. Nor has this paper sought to be prescriptive: there is generally no best model of intra-party democracy: the choice of model will be heavily effected by party aims (e.g. does it need to empower its members, or is maximizing its broader electorate more important?), party traditions (e.g. does it need to overcome a tradition of centralism or hyper- sectarianism?), as well as the context (e.g. will hyper-centralism be seen as the party not practicing what it preaches as regards democracy, will intra-party democracy allow party disputes to be visible to party opponents?). For left parties, there are very good reasons for dispensing with the democratic centralist legacy – the dangers of ideological and strategic atrophy because of leadership dominance are visible with the PCP and, to a lesser extent, the KSCM (quite apart from the example of the USSR). On the other hand, there is no doubt that highly centralized organizations can be electorally effective, if that is their primary goal (the PCRM and AKEL indicate this to some extent). Conversely, the legacy of Stalinism, and the social stigma under which many left parties find themselves in still gives compelling reasons to look for broader forms of inclusive, participative intra-party democracy not just as instrumental mechanisms, but as ends in themselves. However, the examples cited here show, what is good in principle may come with costs in practice, and all left parties will need to combine some elements of leadership control with genuine bottom-up participation. Parties are not movements: they exist in a competitive environment under often intense media and societal scrutiny and they need both strong institutions and flexible tactics to a far greater degree than more network-like movements – so even if they develop strong links with movements and more network elements in their structures as goods in themselves, examples like Rifondazione show how these structures can break down without adequate attention to party loyalty and

 even a party line. Or, as Gramsci said: ‘[bourgeois] discipline must be met with discipline’ (Gramsci, 1999: 32).