University of Florida Thesis Or Dissertation Formatting

Home , Constitution of Niger, Djibo Bakary, Elections in Niger, Elections in Senegal, Hamani Diori, Malian franc

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN FRANCOPHONE WEST AFRICA: THE BIRTH AND CHANGE OF ELECTORAL RULES IN MALI, NIGER, AND SENEGAL

MAMADOU BODIAN

A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA

2016

To my late father, Lansana Bodian, for always believing in me

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want first to thank and express my deepest gratitude to my supervisor, Dr. Leonardo A.

Villalón, who has been a great mentor and good friend. He has believed in me and prepared me to get to this place in my academic life. The pursuit of a degree in political science would not be possible without his support. I am also grateful to my committee members: Bryon Moraski,

Michael Bernhard, Daniel A. Smith, Lawrence Dodd, and Fiona McLaughlin for generously offering their time, guidance and good will throughout the preparation and review of this work.

This dissertation grew in the vibrant intellectual atmosphere provided by the University of Florida. The Department of Political Science and the Center for African Studies have been a friendly workplace. It would be impossible to list the debts to professors, students, friends, and colleagues who have incurred during the long development and the writing of this work. Among those to whom I am most grateful are Aida A. Hozic, Ido Oren, Badredine Arfi, Kevin Funk,

Sebastian Sclofsky, Oumar Ba, Lina Benabdallah, Amanda Edgell, and Eric Lake. I am also thankful to fellow Africanists: Emily Hauser, Anna Mwaba, Chesney McOmber, Nic Knowlton,

Ashley Leinweber, Steve Lichty, and Ann Wainscott. Fellow researchers on the Minerva grant and in the Sahel Research Group more broadly gave me intellectual and personal guidance. I am particularly indebted to my closest colleagues Daniel Eizenga and Ibrahim Yahaya Ibrahim who have made available their support in various ways, with remarkable “esprit de corps.”

I should express my gratitude to the wonderful sources of funding that made this work possible: the Africa Power and Politics Programme (APPP) offered me a two-year research assistantship to start my graduate studies in 2010. The Trans-Saharan Elections Project (TSEP), funded by a grant from the United States Department of State Bureau of Educational and

Cultural Affairs, made possible a number of exchanges with elections specialists in six

Francophone countries of the region—Senegal, Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, and

Chad. The TSEP project sparked my initial interest in electoral reforms. The Center for African

Studies of the University of Florida contributed to my pre-dissertation research during summer

2013. My dissertation fieldwork research was made possible by a three-year grant from the

Minerva Initiative—a core effort of the Sahel Research Group to study the intersection of processes of political reform with socio-religious change in affecting the prospects for stability in the countries of the region.

I also owe debts to colleagues at the various institutions in Africa that put up with my coming and going during the time that I was working on this dissertation. From the West African

Research Center (WARC) in Senegal to the Laboratoire d’études et de recherches sur les dynamiques sociales et le développement local (LASDEL) in Niger, and the Faculté de droit public of Bamako in Mali, I never lacked a working place and intellectual stimulation. Ali Bako

Mahamane Tahirou (Niger), Bakary Camara and Mamadou Lamine Dembele (Mali), Ousmane

Sène (Senegal) deserve my heartfelt gratitude.

I had many happy and helpful encounters during my fieldwork research. In Niger, I received much help from Mahamane Tidjani Alou, Mariama Gamatié (Madame Bayard), André

Salifou, Mahamadou Dandah, and Rahmane Idrissa. I am grateful to Sue Rosenfeld for providing a home. In Senegal, I owe a debt of gratitude to Penda Mbow, Ismaïla Madior Fall, Ousmane

Sène for their intellectual guidance and insight. In Mali, I owe a personal debt to Daba Diawara who provided me with personal archival documents and Fatoumata Dembele (Madame Diarra) who provided much-needed information and contacts. While many of my interviewees have influenced my thinking, Tidjani Alou and Ismaila Major Fall deserve a special mention. Their rich and insightful analysis of electoral reforms shaped my understanding of the politics of electoral rules change in Francophone Africa.

So many people wonderful people have supported me through this journey. I wish to offer my most heartfelt thanks to the following individuals: Suzanne Lawless-Yanchisin (Sue),

Debra Anderson, and Abdoulaye Kane and his family. Each has brought something unique in helping me build mental strength over the years. Debra and Sue, thank you for keeping your office door open and available for all the times when I needed you. I would like to especially thank the Villalón family who views me as one of their own. I want to thank Ignacio and Monica

Villalón for showing a lot of affection.

Finally, I would especially like to thank my family for being patient throughout the years.

My mother, Sona Coly, have been an ever-present beacon of support and encouragement. My wife Zeinab Kane has been incredibly supportive of me throughout this entire process and has made countless sacrifices to help me get to this point. My eight-year son Pape Lansana, and my daughter Sona Awa who arrived in our family right before I started my dissertation fieldwork research in 2014: being away from you has been the hardest part of my journey, but the most significant motivational force that kept me moving forward and never stopped.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

page

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ...... 4

LIST OF TABLES ...... 10

LIST OF FIGURES ...... 11

LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS ...... 12

ABSTRACT ...... 15

CHAPTER

1 INTRODUCTION: CONCEPTUAL PROBLEMS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN AFRICA ...... 17

Introduction ...... 17 Some clarifications ...... 21 Research Design and Methodology ...... 26 Why Mali, Niger, and Senegal? ...... 26 Small-n Comparative Historical Analysis ...... 29 Field Work and Data Collection ...... 31 Structure of the Dissertation ...... 34

2 THE STUDY OF ELECTORAL REFORMS ...... 39

Introduction ...... 39 The Conventional Wisdom ...... 39 Rational Choice Approaches ...... 39 Structural and Institutional Approaches ...... 43 Moving Beyond the Conventional Wisdom ...... 45 Defining the Key Concepts ...... 47 A Theory of the Politics of Electoral Reform ...... 54 Why and When does Electoral System Change Occur? ...... 55 How is the Choice of Electoral System Made? ...... 57 Conclusion ...... 62

3 THE ORIGINS OF ELECTORAL RULES IN FRANCOPHONE AFRICA ...... 64

Introduction ...... 64 Citizens of the French Republic and Subjects of the French Empire ...... 67 The Colonial Administration of French West Africa ...... 70 French Citizenship for Military Service ...... 72 The Second World War: Redefining the Meaning of Empire ...... 76 The Empire to the Rescue of the Republic ...... 76

The Brazzaville Conference and the Era of Representative Institutions ...... 77 The Birth of Electoral Systems in Francophone Africa ...... 79 From Empire to Union: French Post-war Institutional Reforms ...... 81 The Drafting of the 1946 Constitution or the Politics of a Legislative Drama ...... 82 Institutions for a Union of Unequal Citizens ...... 86 Electoral Reforms under the French Union ...... 88 Unions, Party Politics, and Alliances for Electoral Reform ...... 90 The Expansion of the Franchise in the Territories of the Union ...... 92 The Loi-cadre of 1956 and the Establishment of a Single Electoral College ...... 94 Conclusion ...... 95

4 DIVERGENT POLITICAL TRAJECTORIES OF QUITE SIMILAR COUNTRIES ...... 99

Introduction ...... 99 Senegal: Incremental Political Reforms under the Blessing of Sufi Leaders ...... 101 Senghor between Authoritarianism and Liberal Political Reforms ...... 102 A Quasi-Democracy under Intense Pressure for Liberalization ...... 105 Abdoulaye Wade and the Challenge of Democratic Consolidation ...... 110 Mali: The Rise and Collapse of a ‘Democratic Success’” ...... 115 Modibo Keita and his Short-lived Authoritarian Regime ...... 116 From Praetorian Dictatorship to the Transition to Democracy ...... 119 The Consensus Model of Democratic Transition in Mali ...... 123 Weak Institutions and Democratic Breakdown ...... 124 Niger: Chronic Institutional Instability under Praetorian Surveillance ...... 131 Hamani Diori’s Authoritarian Rule ...... 132 Political and Institutional Reforms under the Military Regime ...... 134 The National Conference and the Transition to Democracy in Niger ...... 138 Repeated Democratic Breakdown ...... 140 Conclusion ...... 147

5 THE POLITICS OF IMPOSED ELECTORAL REFORMS ...... 149

Introduction ...... 149 Imposed Electoral Reform from Above under Single-party Rule ...... 150 Diffusing Extra-institutional Threat through Multipartism ...... 153 Imposing a PR System to Ensure Symbolic Representation of the Opposition ...... 156 Opposition Pressures to Improve Electoral Procedures ...... 159 Imposed Electoral Reform under Dominant Party Rule ...... 161 Lifting Restrictions on Political Parties to Defuse Opposition Pressures ...... 163 Imposing a Mixed (Parallel) Electoral System and Restrictions on Party Coalitions ...164 Beyond the Effects of the Mixed System ...... 167 Conclusion ...... 168

6 NEGOTIATED ELECTORAL REFORM IN TIMES OF EXTRAORDINARY POLITICS: CONSENSUS AND COMPROMISE ...... 171

Introduction ...... 171

Transition Politics and Electoral Reform by Consensus in Mali ...... 172 The Breakdown of Traoré’s Authoritarian Regime ...... 173 Negotiating a Transition: The Road to Consensus ...... 177 The Electoral Code Committees and the Design of Electoral Rules ...... 180 Transition Politics and Electoral Reform by Compromise in Niger ...... 183 The End of the Military Authoritarian Regime ...... 185 Negotiated Transition in Niger: The Path toward a Compromise ...... 188 The National Conference and the Establishment of Transitional Institutions ...... 192 The Design of Institutions for Post-transition Niger ...... 196 Conclusion ...... 199

7 ELECTORAL REFORMS IN TIMES OF NORMAL POLITICS ...... 201

Introduction ...... 201 Negotiating Electoral Procedures and Structures in Senegal ...... 202 The 1992 Compromise over the Senegalese Electoral Code ...... 203 Towards a Mixed Electoral Management Body ...... 209 Renegotiating Electoral Institutions in Mali ...... 212 Compromise over the Electoral System and the CENI ...... 213 The Politics of Making Electoral Procedures Transparent ...... 220 A New Consensus over Institutions ...... 225 Conclusion ...... 227

8 NEGOTIATED ELECTORAL REFORM UNDER PRAETORIAN SUPERVISION ...... 231

Introduction ...... 231 Initial Dispute over Electoral Procedures and Administration ...... 232 Shifting Away from the PR System with the Highest Remainder Formula ...... 236 Improving Electoral Procedures and Structures for the Fifth Republic ...... 240 Negotiated Reforms under the Fourth Transition in Niger ...... 245 Conclusion ...... 249

9 CONCLUSION: ELECTORAL REFORM, POLITICAL STRUGGLE AND THE FUTURE OF DEMOCRACY IN AFRICA ...... 254

Introduction ...... 254 Assessing the Quality of Democracy in Africa: A Comparative Perspective ...... 256 The Search for Viable Institutions through Electoral Reform ...... 261 Stable Electoral Systems ...... 262 Towards Inclusive Electoral Management Bodies ...... 268 Making the Voting Procedure Transparent ...... 273 Conclusion: ...... 280

LIST OF REFERENCES ...... 282

LIST OF TABLES

Table page

2-2 A Typology of Electoral System ...... 48

2-2 Scope and Dimensions of Electoral Reforms ...... 51

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure page

2-1 Mechanism of Electoral Rule Choice ...... 58

LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS

ADEMA Alliance pour la démocratie au Mali (Alliance for Democracy in Mali)

AEEM Association des élèves et étudiants du Mali (Malian Students and Pupils Association)

AFC Alliance des forces du changement (Alliance of the Forces of Change)

AMDH Association Malienne des Droits de l'Homme (Malian Association for Human Rights)

AMUPI Association malienne pour l'unité et le progrès de l'Islam (Malian Association for the Unity and Progress of Islam)

ANDP-Zaman Alliance nigérienne pour la démocratie et le progrès Lahiya

CCAOD Comité de coordination des associations et organisations démocratiques (Coordinating Committee of Democratic Associations and Organizations)

CDS-Rahama Convention démocratique et sociale (Democratic and Social Convention)

CMLN Comité militaire de libération nationale (Military Committee for National Liberation)

CMS Conseil militaire suprême (Supreme Military Council)

CND Conseil national de développement (National Development Council)

CNID Congrès national d'initiative démocratique (the National Congress for Democratic Initiative)

CNRCE Commission nationale de réforme du code électorale (National Electoral Code Commission)

CNRDRE Comité national pour le redressement de la démocratie et la restauration de l’État (National Committee for the Restoration of Democracy and State)

CNRDRE Comité national pour le redressement de la démocratie et la restauration de l’État National (Committee for the Restoration of Democracy and State)

CNRI Commission nationale pour la réforme des institutions (National Commission on Institutional Reform)

CNRV Commission nationale de recensement des votes (The National Commission for the Tallying of the Votes)

COPPO Collectif des Partis Politiques de l’Opposition (Collective of Political Parties of the Opposition)

CNPCN Commission nationale préparatoire à la Conférence Nationale (Preparatory Committee of the National Conference)

CRN Conseil de réconciliation nationale (National Reconciliation Council)

CSRD Conseil suprême pour la restauration de la démocratie (Supreme Council for the Restoration of Democracy)

CTSP Comité de transition pour le salut public (Transitional Committee for the Public Salvation)

DGE Direction générale des élections (General Directorate of Elections)

EID Espace d’interpellation démocratique (Forum for Democratic Discussion)

FSD Front pour la sauvegarde de la démocratie (Front for the Safeguard of Democracy)

FRDD Front pour la restauration et la défense de la démocratie

HCR Haut conseil de la république (High Council of the Republic)

MIRIA Mouvement pour l'indépendance, la renaissance et l'intégration africaine (Movement for African Independence, Renewal, and Integration)

MNSD Mouvement national de la société de développement (National Movement for development Society)

ONEL Observatoire National des Elections (National Elections Observatory)

PCF Parti communiste français (French Communist Party)

PDP Parti pour la démocratie et le progrès (Party for Democracy and Progress)

PIT Parti de l’indépendance et du travail (Party of Independence and Labor)

PMT Parti malien du travail (Malian Party of Labour)

PNDS-Tarayya Parti Nigérien pour la démocratie et le socialisme (Nigerien Party for Democracy and Socialism)

PPN or PPN- Parti progressiste Nigérien-Rassemblement Démocratique Africain (Niger RDA Progressive Party-African Democratic Rally)

PSF Parti socialiste français (French Socialist Party)

PSP Parti de la Solidarité et du Progrès (Party for Solidarity and Progress)

PSPR Partis signataires du pacte républicain (Signatory Parties of the Republican Pact)

RDP Rassemblement pour la démocratie et le progrès (Rally for Democracy and Progress)

RND Rassemblement national démocratique (Democratic National Rally)

UDPM Union démocratique du peuple Malien (Democratic Union of the Malian People)

UNTM Union nationale des travailleurs du Mali (the National Workers’ Union of Mali)

USN Union des scolaires nigériens (Nigerien School Union)

US-RDA Union soudanaise-Rassemblement démocratique Africain (Soudanese Union–African Democratic Rally)

USTN Union des syndicats des travailleurs du Niger (Union of Workers’ Trade Unions of Niger)

Abstract of Dissertation Presented to the Graduate School of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

THE POLITICS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN FRANCOPHONE WEST AFRICA: THE BIRTH AND CHANGE OF ELECTORAL RULES IN MALI, NIGER, AND SENEGAL

Mamadou Bodian

December 2016

Chair: Leonardo A. Villalón Major: Political Science

This dissertation comparatively examines the politics of electoral reform in Francophone

West Africa: Senegal, Mali, and Niger. It addresses the following question: why are alternative electoral rules considered and implemented in certain countries at certain times and, once they have been established, how are they altered or replaced with new ones? It builds on the growing literature on electoral reform that emphasizes changes in electoral systems—namely the set of rules that structure the way in which thousands or millions of citizens’ votes are counted and translated into a relatively small number of parliamentary seats. The key to my argument is that in most Francophone countries, the debate on the electoral system is not separable from the debate on the governance of the entire electoral process. The understanding of the choice of any given electoral system can sometimes be clouded unless due attention is paid to them.

The findings of this work suggest that electoral rules can be chosen or changed for various reasons. The existence of electoral threat (i.e. the high perception of losing the next election under current electoral rules) is partly and not exclusively what drives political actors to choose or change electoral institutions. For the most part, electoral reforms in francophone West

Africa have occurred as a result of a choice made by the incumbent regime to secure political tenure in the face of mounting extra-institutional threat. Such a threat emerges when the overall

performance of the political system fails to meet some standards of electoral inclusiveness and when opposition groups, unable to influence any change through formal channels, mobilize masses and use extra-institutional pressure to threaten the survival of the ruling regime.

My findings also suggest that electoral reform occurs as a result of an imposition or a negotiation (in which case they can be chosen by a consensus or via compromise). In times of normal politics, incumbent politicians are likely to change the rule of the game when electoral threat is high and extra-institutional threat low. However, in times of extraordinary politics— especially during periods of democratic transition when extra-institutional threat is high— politicians are likely to negotiate over electoral reform to secure their tenure.

CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION: CONCEPTUAL PROBLEMS OF ELECTORAL REFORM IN AFRICA

Introduction

The former president of the Republic of Congo-Brazzaville, Pascal Lissouba, declared in

1997 that “one does not organize elections to lose”.1 Although this famous aphorism is not the defining feature of electoral processes in Africa, it evokes widespread perceptions about how one wins or loses an election in contexts where the overall performance of the political system is deficient. Until recently, most new African democracies fell into the category of countries where election results did not always reflect the will of the voters as freely expressed at the ballot box.

In large numbers of elections across the continent, there have been reports of how incumbent electoral victories were achieved in various undemocratic ways, including the banning of opposition parties, the monopolization of state resources and the media, the manipulation of voter lists, the intimidation of voters, or deliberate fraud. But there is more to the story of the

African electoral experiment than electoral malpractice; attempts to manipulate the electoral process have not gone unquestioned or unchallenged. In many instances—including in Senegal,

Niger, and Mali—the perception of electoral malpractice has encouraged post-election protests and strengthened public pressures for reform in an effort to meet some standards of electoral inclusiveness and fairness.

Changes in the rules governing the entire electoral process are very common in Africa and underpin the politics of electoral reforms, yet little attention is paid to them. The growing literature on electoral reform emphasizes changes in electoral systems—namely the set of rules that structure the way in which thousands or millions of citizens’ votes are counted and

1 Pascal Lissouba was the first (and arguably still the only to date) democratically elected President of the Republic of the Congo-Brazzaville. He served from 1992 until his overthrow in 1997. See Diop, Omar. 2006. Partis politiques et processus de transition dé mocratique en Afrique noire : recherches sur les enjeux juridiques et sociologiques du multipartisme dans quelques pays de l'espace francophone. Paris: Publibook, p. 585.

translated into a relatively small number of parliamentary seats. Part of the reason for this relative neglect is that electoral governance (such as electoral administration, election regulatory bodies and norms, and dispute resolution mechanisms.) is an issue largely taken for granted— especially in established liberal democracies where electoral processes are, in general, procedurally fair and technically sound. The same cannot be said of the majority of African countries where, once an alternative electoral system is chosen, attention shifts toward gradual reform of the broad institutional framework consisting of the procedures and structures that govern and regulate the entire electoral process.

Recent trends in changing this broad institutional framework involve, among other things, the lifting of restrictions on the registration of political parties, the establishment of truly impartial and inclusive electoral management bodies, an independent judicial system capable of impartially settling electoral disputes, and reasonable access to the media for all contesting parties and candidates. One cannot truly understand the dynamics of electoral reform in Africa unless due attention is paid to the politics surrounding such debates. Electoral reform should thus be understood from a holistic perspective as involving changes in three conceptually distinct but empirically related sets of formal electoral institutions. The first set is associated with electoral systems—including electoral formulas, district magnitudes, constituency boundaries, and assembly size. The two other sets are electoral procedures and electoral structures that govern and regulate the entire electoral process (Mozaffar and Schedler 2002).

The key to my argument is that in most African countries what determines who wins and who loses an election, or how one wins or loses, is not only a function of the electoral system. It is an interactive combination of the effects of the electoral system in conjunction with the other rules of the electoral game. Subsequently, the debate on the reform of the electoral system is not

separable from the debate on the administration or governance of the entire electoral process.

This work examines the politics of electoral reform in Francophone West Africa. It addresses the following questions: Why are alternative electoral institutions considered and implemented in certain countries at certain times and, once they have been established, how are they altered or replaced with new ones?

These questions are even more important because the end of the Cold War and the global spread of democracy have sparked a growing interest in understanding how the rules governing the electoral process are chosen. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, the peak of transitional

“third wave” democracies in Central and Eastern Europe, Latin America, Asia, and Africa

(Huntington 1993) generated a new wave of institution building. Subsequent heated debates surrounding the choice of electoral institution in Mali, Niger, and Senegal reflect Pippa Norris’

(1995: 4) argument that “electoral systems…are born kicking and screaming into the world out of a messy, incremental compromise between contending factions battling for survival, determined by power politics.” Indeed, the choice of electoral rules in Francophone West Africa has been a complex process involving a large variety of actors and motivations. The very existence of tensions and negotiations in this process should clearly direct our attention more to the politics of electoral reform than to the technical aspects of alternative electoral rules.

This work comparatively examines the initial establishment and the subsequent changes in electoral rules in Senegal, Niger, and Mali. I ask three specific questions: How are electoral rules initially chosen? Who initiates electoral reform? How and when are changes made? In answering these questions, I present a threefold argument. First, drawing primarily on research on the origins of and changes in electoral systems, I argue that electoral rules can be chosen or changed for various reasons. The existence of electoral threat is partly—but not exclusively—

what drives political actors to choose or change electoral rules. For the most part, electoral reforms in francophone West Africa have occurred as a result of a choice made by the incumbent regime to attempt to secure political tenure in the face of mounting extra-institutional threats.

Such a threat emerges when the overall performance of the political system fails to meet some standards of electoral inclusiveness and when opposition groups, unable to influence any change through formal channels, mobilize masses and use extra-institutional pressure to threaten the survival of the ruling regime.

Second, modifying Bernhard’s (2005) theory of institutional choice, I make the case that electoral institutions for parliamentarian elections can be adopted through a variety of mechanisms. They can be chosen by imposition when politicians holding majority power introduce their preferred electoral rules, frequently (but not always) to enhance their share of seats, and force other actors to accept this choice.2 Electoral institutions can also be chosen by negotiation. This occurs when contending actors come up with a mixed solution that balances the preferences of each camp and support electoral reform based on either wide consensus or compromise. A negotiation leads to a consensus when a mutual agreement is reached over the same electoral rules. A negotiation results in a compromise when opposing camps make a mutual concession over their preferred institutional arrangement and reach a solution which partially satisfies each camp.

Third, bringing the motivations and the mechanisms of electoral reform together, I argue that in times of “normal politics,” incumbent politicians will prefer not to change the rules of the game, unless they perceive either electoral threats or extra-institutional threats (or both) as high.

However, in times of “extraordinary politics”—especially during periods of democratic

2 As we will see in Chapter 4, however, imposed reforms can have other motivations.

transition when the perception of extra-institutional threats is high—politicians are likely to negotiate over electoral reform to secure their tenure. The occurrence of one or the other outcome (e.g. choice by imposition, or choice by negotiation) depends on the power relations between contending forces in the choice process and other associated factors.

Some Clarifications

My focus on the origins of electoral institutions may seem self-evidently important in an

African context, but even if it requires no justification it may be useful to provide at least some initial clarifications on this focus. The first is that, since the early 1990s, elections and the design of electoral rules have been central to political debates and to the search for viable political institutions on the continent. Yet there are still very few accounts on how electoral institutions come into being in the first place. Early studies of the issue in Africa were dominated by efforts to establish the specific consequences of alternative electoral systems not necessarily reconcilable in practice. Lurking in the background were two competing views on whether the virtues of stable and accountable government attributed to majoritarian systems are more or less valuable than the benefits of social representation linked to proportional representation (PR) systems. On the one hand, a number of scholars—including Barkan (1995), Horowitz (1991), and Sartori (1996)—have supported the view that the adoption of majoritarian systems produces an institutionally stable and effective legislature. On the other hand, scholars such as Lijphart

(1991) and Reynolds (1995a, 1995b) have favored PR systems because these have the advantage of including a whole range of relevant groups (such as women and ethnic minorities), and of inducing more consensus-orientated politics.

This discussion on the effects of electoral systems on the performance of democratic systems of government has long overshadowed the research on the origins of and changes in electoral rules in Africa. Importantly, electoral rules predate the democratic experiments. When

the new Francophone West African democracies began plans for their initial elections in the

1990s, they already had an established model or template for electoral rules, well before the start of the official electoral campaign and before the first vote had been cast. The first electoral system in French West Africa dates back to 1945, and was designed as part of the effort by the

French colonial administration to expand electoral institutions to the French colonies—where they had been largely absent. Initially, the Ordinance of August 1945 established two Electoral

Colleges, one for French citizens and another for the former “subjects” who comprised the vast majority of the indigenous population. This dual college system provided a structure by which

Africans could elect representatives to the French Constituent Assembly so as to participate in the writing of the constitution of the new Fourth Republic. Following the passage of the Loi

Cadre (“Framework Law”) of 1956, which granted a high degree of internal autonomy to French

West Africa, universal suffrage was subsequently introduced and the dual Electoral College system changed into a single Electoral College (Thompson and Adloff 1957; Mann 2006).3

Between independence in 1960 and the democratic openings of the 1990s, ruling Francophone

African elites reformed electoral laws in various ways, either to narrow electoral competition

(Mali and Niger) or to gradually open the political game to opposition parties or groups

(Senegal).

Much of the recent research on African electoral rules fails to provide a systematic account of these choices of electoral system during the colonial period and in the first decades following independence. The bulk of the literature emphasizes the democratic period and the subsequent changes in the electoral institutions from 1990 onwards. I will argue, however, that the earlier choices were crucially important in setting the parameters for subsequent

3 Following the implementation of the single Electoral College, parliamentarians were now elected based on a two- round majoritarian system in single-member constituencies.

developments. In addition, few scholars have undertaken comparative studies to shed light on why and how former French West African colonies have ended up today with different electoral systems for parliamentary elections, even though they all used a majoritarian system in the final years of colonialism. Evidently, there is a big gap to be filled if one wants to develop generalizable conclusions regarding the origins of electoral systems in Francophone Africa, and the changes in these systems since the birth of the first electoral institution in 1945. Despite very similar origins, Senegal, Mali and Niger experienced significant divergence in systems for legislative elections over the years. Mali and Niger use, respectively, a two-round majority- runoff system and a proportional representation (PR) system, while Senegal implements a mixed

(parallel) system. This divergence in electoral systems provides an excellent opportunity for comparative analysis of the factors that shape these outcomes.

The second clarification is that while political scientists have paid some attention to attempting to explain the origins of, and changes in, electoral institutions for legislative elections, the literature is very limited in terms of understanding the politics of electoral reform in Africa.

There are two reasons for this. First of all, scholars have overwhelmingly emphasized the politics of reform in established democracies (Leyenaar and Hazan 2011, 440). Perhaps the dominant trend in this has been the rational choice approach, which treats relevant political actors as the main explanatory factors in the design and redesign of electoral systems (Boix 1999; Benoit

2004; Colomer 2004). Scholars in this group analyze the choice of electoral rules as a result of conscious and purposive actions and interactions among parties and office‐holders who have preferences for alternative electoral rules given expectations of their effects. Accordingly, structural factors and the role of the public are usually downplayed. There is another alternative explanation—the structural and institutional approach—that underscores the role of political

actors and agents. The advocates of this approach emphasize the paramount importance of broader structural contexts in constraining and signaling actors’ preferences as well as their choices over alternative electoral systems (Blais and Massicotte 1997, Mozaffar 1998). They stress the role of antecedent events and pre-existing structural conditions (e.g., formal and informal institutions, cultural and historical legacies) in shaping actors’ choices at the time of electoral institutional design. More recent works have convincingly demonstrated that no single approach succeeds in explaining the determinants of electoral choice (see Moraski 2006; Blais

2008a; Rahat 2008; Renwick 2011) and, as I will argue later, neither of these approaches can account adequately for changes in the new and contested democratic contexts of sub-Saharan

Africa.

Second, for the most part, the conceptual framework for explaining electoral reforms focuses narrowly on electoral systems, namely the set of rules that structure the way in which the votes cast at elections for a representative assembly are counted and translated into seats at the national level. Less attention is given to the broader context of electoral rules, that is to say “the set of rules governing the whole process of elections” (Lundell 2010: 17). Given that electoral rules include many attributes, of which electoral systems are only one component, why should we limit the concept of electoral reform only to changes in electoral systems? In many countries in Africa—including Senegal, Niger, and Mali—the debate on the reform of the electoral system is not separable from the discussion over the administration of the entire electoral process. It is therefore challenging to attempt to understand how electoral rules create winners and losers if one overlooks, for instance, how the incumbent party can manage to reform the electoral system in such a way as to appease the opposition, while simultaneously manipulating other electoral rules to make sure that the opposition has no real chance of coming to power through regular

elections. Simply put, what determine who wins and who loses an election, or how one wins or loses, is not necessarily only a function of the electoral system. It is in fact an interactive combination of the effects of the electoral system in conjunction with other rules of the electoral game.

In sum, although the established knowledge on the origins of and changes in electoral institutions in established democracies remains a valuable point of departure for insights into what actually happens in Africa, the facts of experimentation with electoral choices in

Francophone West African countries constitute a challenge to the existing paradigms, and raise questions about the applicability of these models in African cases, and perhaps in other new democratic contexts. The episodes of post-electoral violence in Senegal (in 1988 and 1993) and

Mali (in 1997), and the subsequent move toward the improvement of electoral procedures and structures are suggestive of how electoral reforms can emerge as the result of a broader public distrust in political institutions, with flaws in the administration of the electoral process often being a triggering event. This sentiment of public distrust is usually sparked by an event in which the outcome of an electoral contest generates the perception of electoral malpractice, encouraging post electoral protests and strengthening public pressures not only for reform of the electoral system, but also for changes in other electoral rules. Simply put, the broader set of electoral rules is of critical importance, and the understanding of the choice of any given electoral system can sometimes be clouded unless due attention is paid to them.

This dissertation seeks to fill this gap based on a comparative examination of the origins of, and changes in, electoral rules in Francophone Africa. It draws from the set of countries that once comprised French West Africa (AOF), including Côte d'Ivoire (Ivory Coast), Mali, Burkina

Faso, Benin, Guinea-Conakry, Mauritania, Senegal, Niger, and Togo. In order to gain more

depth into the processes of electoral reform I focus on three countries which in many ways are the most similar of this group, but which have ended out with rather different electoral systems today: Mali, Niger, and Senegal.

Research Design and Methodology

Why Mali, Niger, and Senegal?

Mali, Niger, and Senegal are the most similar among the nine contemporary countries that once comprised French West Africa (AOF). Three characteristics are worth highlighting.

First, the historical political development of Mali, Niger, and Senegal are all quite similar, even if they display variations in the institutional make up which influenced the specific trajectory of each country. The three countries have parallel colonial histories prior to gaining independence from France in 1960. They all experienced some variant of authoritarian rule until the late 1980s, although Senegal is a bit of an exception; Senegal shifted from a single party regime (1960-

1974) to a limited multiparty system (1974-1981), and became a full multiparty system (1981- present) over a decade earlier than Mali and Niger. However, until the late 1980s, all three countries exhibited adverse political environments and unfavorable conditions for a true democracy to emerge. Despite all the pessimism, they each underwent a process of democratic transition in the 1990, in Mali and Niger through the National Conference model which was widely used in Francophone Africa.

Nevertheless, although constitutions were (re)designed to establish democratic institutions and norms, the three countries experienced different political fortunes in their efforts to make these institutions viable. Senegal has remained on the path to democratization, while

Mali briefly fell apart in 2012 after a military coup, but has continued to pursue democracy since then. Niger repeatedly fell back into military rule (in 1996, 1999, and 2010). However, at each step of their political development these three countries have implemented reforms to strengthen

democratic institutions. Valuable lessons can be drawn from these efforts. The important, and yet largely neglected, aspect of these reform experiences has certainly been the changes in electoral rules—the phenomenon which constitutes the focus of my dissertation.

Second, Senegal, Mali and Niger have similar sociological characteristics. They are all

Muslim majority countries, in which Islam is practiced by more than ninety percent of the population. Religion plays a central and increasingly important socio-political role, and one that has been furthered by the crisis of the state of the last several decades and the advent of democracy. Religious actors, and their increasing ability to represent the demands of citizens, seem to constitute what Villalón (1995, 12) calls a “religiously-based ‘civil society.” In 2002 in

Senegal, Islamic organizations, such as the Comité islamique pour la réforme du code de la famille (Senegalese committee for the reform of the family law-CIRCOFS), proposed to repeal the 1973 “secular” family law in order to establish a new one inspired by Islamic law (Brossier

2004, 80). In Mali, a Personal Status and Family Code was adopted in 2009 by the National

Assembly, but promulgation by the President of the Republic has been delayed until now because of the mobilization of Muslim religious organizations opposed to it.

It appears that the process of establishing viable democratic systems over the last two decades have increasingly empowered religious actors to participate in agenda-setting in a number of key policy issues. The mobilization of religious civil society may not be directly related to the reform of electoral rules in Senegal, Mali and Niger. However, it sheds light on how political reforms in general are framed and discussed in societies with a deeply religious electorate. It also helps to demonstrate how, in the context of democratic politics, social mobilization on religious grounds may indirectly influence institutional reforms. This may have been the case in Niger in 1991 when the growing pressure against the ruling regime coincided

with mass mobilization against the involvement in the “American-led coalition in the 1991 Gulf

War” (Villalón and Idrissa 2005a, 30). This appears to have contributed to weakening the ruling elite and tipping the balance in favor of the pro-reform coalition.

Third, Senegal, Niger, and Mali face similar economic conditions. There have not been many dramatic variations in the general economic situation over the years; these countries have long been facing the same challenges in their struggle to build viable national economies. The first and second oil price shocks in the 1970s, coupled with a series of major droughts during the same period, the structural adjustment policies (SAPs) demanded by the World Bank and the

International Monetary Fund (IMF) in the 1980s, and the 1994 devaluation of the common CFA

Franc represented severe blows to the economic stability of the three countries.4 As we shall see, these economic factors have contributed to triggering most of the popular discontent which runs in the background of major institutional reforms in Mali, Niger and Senegal over the last decades. Today, the economic situation is not much improved; growth prospects and, more generally, the economic outlook remain largely negative. Mali, Niger and Senegal fall in the category of countries with the lowest annual development indicators in the world. In 2015, with the global average of the UNDP’s Human Development Index (HDI) value at 0.883, Senegal’s

HDI value was 0.466, positioning the country at 170 out of 188 countries. Mali is one of the poorest countries in sub-Saharan Africa, ranking 179 on the 2015 HDI. Niger is prone to natural crises—notably droughts, floods and locust infestation—all contributing to chronic food insecurity. These factors make Niger one of the world’s poorest countries, ranking at the bottom

4 The CFA franc, shared by a number of countries in the region, is used by all three of these countries.

of the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) Human Development Index (0.348 points in 2015) leaving it in 188th place out of 188 countries.5

In sum, Mali, Niger, and Senegal are very similar in their levels of development and in terms of political and cultural backgrounds. These similarities make them a fruitful ground to control for how electoral threat and extra-institutional threat in conjunction with other domestic factors explains why electoral rules diverged in each country in the ways that they did. Indeed,

Senegal has shifted away from the majoritarian system of the early 1960s and has oscillated between a proportional representation (PR) system in 1978 and a mixed (parallel) system since

1983. Mali still operates under a two-round majority-runoff system similar to that inherited from the colonial period, although a number of revisions were introduced, especially in 1991 following the National Conference. Niger shifted from a majority system to a PR system in 1991 after the National Conference, and has occasionally implemented some modifications ever since.

As I will discuss further, whether these reform were implemented as a result of an imposition or a negotiation depended on a host of intervening factors, including the domestic structural and institutional characteristics of these three countries but also the power relations between actors at the time when electoral rules were being designed or revised. In addition, these reforms of the electoral systems occurred almost always alongside changes in other rules of the electoral game—namely electoral procedures and electoral structures.

Small-n Comparative Historical Analysis

This work uses comparative historical analysis (Ragin 1987; Mahoney and

Rueschemeyer 2003) and the process-tracing of cases to shed light on the determinants of electoral reform in Francophone West Africa. The unit of analysis is the historical episode during

5 United Nations Development Program (UNDP) Human Development Index.: http://hdr.undp.org/en/countries (Accessed August 1, 2016).

which reform (or non-reform) of electoral rules was considered. These reforms include changes in electoral systems in conjunction with changes in other rules of the electoral game.

Subsequently, I examine all instances of reform efforts involving three theoretically different but empirically related sets of formal electoral institutions (i.e., electoral systems, electoral procedures, and electoral structures), using Mill’s method of difference as a primary step in guiding the selection of my cases, namely Mali, Niger, and Senegal. These cases are analytically comparable because, referring to Lijphart’s recommendation, they are “similar in a large number of important characteristics (variables) which one wants to treat as constant, but dissimilar as far as those variables are concerned which one wants to relate to each other” (Lijphart 1971, 687).

As briefly noted above, Mali, Niger, and Senegal are former French colonies that are similar in their levels of economic development and in terms of political and cultural backgrounds. In addition, they all used a majoritarian electoral system in the final years of colonialism, yet ended out with rather different electoral systems today for legislative elections. This divergence in electoral systems provides an excellent opportunity for comparative analysis of how various political and contextual factors, along with perceptions of electoral threats and of extra institutional threats, shape both the mechanism of electoral reform and the outcome.

In order to ascertain the reasons for the occurrence of these reforms in any given point in time, I pay close attention to historical contexts and the potential causes of their emergence.

More specifically, I focus on two sets of independent variables that explain why electoral reform is put on the policy agenda. They include the perception of electoral threat to incumbent politicians or parties, and the perception of extra-institutional threats to the survival of incumbent regimes. Given that the choice of electoral rules involve tensions and negotiations between a constellation of actors and motivations, I go beyond the divergence in the technical

aspects of electoral reform and explore the politics that underpins the choice of alternative electoral rules. In this respect, I take a close look at the political history of each in influencing the moment when electoral rules are chosen. These factors may contribute to determining whether electoral reform occurs as a result of an imposition or a negotiation (in which case they can be chosen by a consensus or via compromise).

Since the processes leading to reform outcomes are varied, I conduct detailed analysis of episodes of electoral reform using comparative process tracing (see George and Bennett 2005) to explore mechanisms operating in both of these outcomes, and assess whether the posited causal factor (electoral threat and extra-institutional threat) actually exerts a causal effect on the occurrence of electoral reforms. On the one hand, I use within-country case analysis to track down repeated observations of the relationship between the existence of electoral and extra- institutional threats and electoral reforms over long periods of time in each of my countries of interest. On the other hand, I use cross-case analysis in order to determine patterns across episodes of electoral reform and located intervening mechanisms, namely the configuration of actors and structural conditions, which determine whether the reform unfolded as a result of an imposition or a negotiation.

Field Work and Data Collection

This work builds on some five years spent following the dynamics of electoral reform in

Sub-Saharan Africa. It first emerged as part of my participation in the Trans-Saharan Elections

Project (TSEP) from 2011 to 2013.6 During the first three-year period of the program, I was

6 The Trans-Saharan Elections Project focuses on the organization and administration of elections in six Francophone African countries of the Trans-Saharan (or Sahelian) region: Burkina Faso, Chad, Mali, Mauritania, Niger and Senegal. It was made possible by a grant to the University of Florida from the United States Department of State Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs in 2011.

responsible for writing the reports for TSEP’s US-based programs that brought a total of thirty- one African Elections Fellows from six target countries (Burkina Faso, Chad, Mali, Mauritania,

Niger and Senegal) to the United States to engage in extensive discussions with a wide network of actors and stakeholders on elections. Those discussions allowed me to become familiar with the major variations in electoral rules across the Sahelian countries, but also to begin to understand the fundamental factors that account for those differences. Since 2012 I have coordinated the work of a team of six experts to create and maintain a database on electoral rules in the six TSEP countries. The goal was to build further on the previous exchanges and to develop a Trans-Saharan Elections project website following a set of themes that emerged as central to understanding electoral dynamics in the region. The full team of this final stage of the

TSEP (the TSEP project staff and the six experts) met for an intensive weeklong seminar in

Senegal in March 2013 to develop the material for this website. As I drafted the protocols for the set of themes and edited the work by the six experts, I was also able to begin to work on this material as a building block for my dissertation, and to frame my research question to better fit an academic research project.

I also carried out field research for this work during several trips to Mali, Niger, and

Senegal between 2011 and 2015. I was fortunate to be able to participate in the June-July 2011

TSEP Africa-based program that took a five-member delegation, including the two TSEP project directors and three American specialists, to the region. I joined the delegation in Mali and

Senegal. In Mali, I met with a wide range of specialists on elections, including journalists, members of the Constitutional Court, officials in the Ministry of Territorial Administration, members of the National Committee for Equal Access to State Media (CNEAME). I also had fruitful discussions with members of the Réseau ONG d’Appui au Processus Electoral au Mali

(Réseau-APEM) on the major controversial issues in Malian politics, including electoral reforms prior to the 2012 military coup. The debates revolved around the improvement of the electoral process. More precisely, they concerned the membership of the national electoral commission

(CENI), the large number of institutions involved in organizing elections, the absentee ballot, testimony-based voting, and low voter turnout. Perhaps the most significant issue of contention at the time was the procedure for creating electoral lists. The government wanted to create electoral lists based on an Administrative Census known as RACE, while the majority of political parties preferred the use of another electoral list based on the 2009 Administrative

Census devoted to Civil Status (RAVEC), an electoral database they considered more reliable because it uses biometric identification. After the 2012 coup, the latter was adopted, since the majority of political actors and civil society organizations were convinced of the superiority of biometric identification.

In summer 2013, I was able to return for further field research in Senegal, Mali, and

Niger. While I spent the bulk of my time doing archival work and collecting both published and unpublished documents on elections and electoral rules, I was also able to conduct semi- structured interviews with key actors working on electoral issues, in order to establish the trajectory of electoral institutions in these three countries since the colonial period. These actors included civil servants, leaders of political parties, journalists, civil society activists, and academics. The data I collected was primarily meant to help to build a comparative historical analysis of the origin of and change in electoral rules in Francophone Africa and better prepare for more in-depth fieldwork. I was able to carry this out in the three countries over a period of a year and a half, beginning in April 2014. Besides conducting numerous and varied in-depth interviews, an integral part of my research involved a critical reading of newspaper reports and

other sources, with the goal tracing the history of the main electoral reforms, especially since the

1990s, and to sort out the political discussions over electoral issues at each reform period.

This research has produced a great amount of information on which I build the comparison of electoral reforms both between countries, and across issue areas that are central to contemporary debates in Senegal, Mali, and Niger. It also led me to become aware of the key fact that the debate on the reform of electoral systems is not separable from the debate on the administration of the entire electoral process. Therefore, the politics of electoral reform involve a process of tensions and negotiations over changes in electoral systems in conjunction with changes in the broad institutional framework, including the procedures and structures that govern and regulate the entire electoral process.

Structure of the Dissertation

This work is organized into nine chapters. The initial chapter, “Introduction: Conceptual

Problems of Electoral Reform in Africa,” has introduced questions about the interest of the process of electoral reforms in Francophone West African countries. I have attempted to indicate how electoral choices in these countries constitute a challenge to the existing paradigms, and raise questions about the applicability of existing models in African cases. The remainder of the dissertation examines my three cases in depth in the effort to develop a broader framework within which the process of electoral reform in Africa—and perhaps elsewhere—might be understood. Chapter 2, “The Study of Electoral Reforms”, presents the theoretical and conceptual framework. It discusses alternative perspectives offered by two broad schools of thought that shape the literature on the origins of and changes in electoral systems: the rational- choice approach and the structural and institutional approach. Building on this discussion I develop a process-centered theory that conceptualizes the process of electoral reform through two different possible mechanisms. The first is by imposition and occurs when an actor or

coalition of actors forces their preferred institutional arrangement upon other actors. Reform processes can also occur by negotiation, in which case the outcome can be a result of consensus or via a compromise.

Chapter 3, “The Origins of Electoral Rules in Francophone Africa,” first shows how electoral systems were born in French West Africa as part of an ongoing debate on the relationship between the French Republic and the French Empire and, ultimately, on a debate concerning the relationship of citizenship to nationality. Up until the Second World War, colonial authorities sought to guarantee the political unity of the French Empire. In the same breath, however, they also tried to maintain not only the differentiation between French nationals and colonial peoples, but also the discriminatory policies between French citizens and French subjects. These distinctions were gradually modified over the colonial period, as a result of changing structural conditions in the wake of the two World Wars and the beginning of demands for self-determination that emerged in the French colonies in the late 1950.

Following this presentation, the chapter then discusses two instances of electoral reform under colonial rule. The first is the establishment of two Electoral Colleges in 1945—one for citizens and another for the vast majority of the indigenous population that made up the French

“subjects.” This change allowed Africans to elect representatives to the French Constituent

Assembly who could participate in the writing of the Fourth Republic’s constitution. The second instance was the passage of the Loi Cadre (“Framework Law”) of 1956 which granted universal suffrage to colonial populations and which eliminated the dual Electoral College system in favor of a single Electoral College.

Chapter 4, “The Divergent Political Trajectories of Quite Similar Countries,” is devoted to tracing the political history of Senegal, Niger, and Mali after independence—from the non-

democratic era (1960-90) to the democratic period since 1991. It discusses the special case of

Senegal, which has long been regarded as “a remarkable success story” in West Africa, despite the fact that it could not in fact be considered fully democratic for most of the first three decades of independence. I discuss the features that define the exceptional Senegalese case, namely the legitimization mechanism of the state by the Sufi orders, the political neutrality of the military, and the long process of incremental institutional reform undertaken by various regimes in response to political and social crisis they faced since independence. The chapter then turns to the political history of Mali, a country that experienced genuine political transition from authoritarian rule in the 1990s and gradually built democratic institutions for more than twenty years, yet displayed characteristic of state fragility along the way, factors that in fact brought about a breakdown of its democratic foundations in 2012. Finally, the chapter considers the case of Niger, a seemingly “textbook case” of chronic institutional instability under praetorian surveillance. This political trajectory is partly the result of a long lasting military political culture. However, I argue that it is primarily the inability of political actors to resort to institutional arbitration, and their propensity to expect the army to act as arbiter of the democratic game in instances of institutional deadlock, that have locked Niger in the path of repeated democratic breakdown. These different political trajectories affected, in one way or the other, the prospects and outcome of electoral reforms.

Chapters 5-8 are devoted to the empirical cases of reform efforts. Chapter 5, “The Politics of Imposed Electoral Reforms” analyzes the politics surrounding two episodes of what I will call imposed electoral reform in Senegal. The first one is the authorization under single-party rule of a controlled political liberalization (1974-1976), and the shift from the winner-take-all electoral system to a proportional representation (PR) electoral system in 1978. The second episode is the

lifting of restrictions on political parties in 1981, coupled with a change from the PR system to a mixed (parallel) system in 1983 under dominant party rule. The chapter shows how ruling parties that can easily expect electoral victories—in this case under a winner-take-all system in a single nationwide constituency—might implement a PR system, or more proportional alternatives of mixed systems, to trade off seat-maximization for secure tenure. The chapter highlights the importance of extra-institutional and electoral threats in determining why the ruling incumbents put electoral reform on the agenda.

Chapter 6, “Negotiated Electoral Reform in Times of Extraordinary Politics: Consensus and Compromise,” considers the politics of electoral rules during periods of democratic transition in Mali and Niger in the early 1990. It shows that initial choices of electoral institutions were embedded in the larger game of regime change and emerged as part of a response to a broader popular reaction to the poor performance of a political system that failed to meet some standards of inclusiveness. It concludes that in Mali, where the military regime collapsed during the transition process and where negotiations involved equally balanced political and social forces, a consensus was reached over the new electoral institutions. By contrast, in Niger, where the former military regime survived and was primarily concerned about keeping power, it managed to compromise over confrontation in order to hold a formal role in the transition.

Chapter 7, “Electoral Reforms in Times of Normal Politics,” then discusses experiences of electoral reforms in Senegal and Mali. The chapter seeks to move beyond founding choices, in order to explore episodes of subsequent electoral rules changes and persistence in periods of

“normal politics.” Indeed, once initial electoral rules were chosen, the attention of political actors shifted toward gradual improvement of the procedures and structures that govern and

regulate the entire electoral process. The chapter sheds light on how the ruling parties—the PS in

Senegal and ADEMA in Mali—had continued to dominate the political process and control the scope and implementation of political and electoral reform. However, almost all instances of electoral reforms during this period were mostly driven by extra-institutional pressures. The main contingent factor turned out to be public distrust, not necessarily in the current electoral system, but more generally in the deficiencies in the administration of the electoral process.

Chapter 8, “Negotiated Electoral Reform under Praetorian Supervision,” examines three specific cases of negotiated electoral reform in Niger, each mediated by the military following coups, respectively in 1996, 1999, and 2010.

Chapter 9, “Electoral Reform, Political Struggle, and the Future of Democracy in Africa,” concludes the dissertation with some thoughts on the relationship between electoral reforms and the fate of democratic experiments in Africa. The chapter demonstrates that elections and electoral reforms have been central to political debates and to the search for viable political and democratic institutions on the continent since the 1990s. Subsequently, the chapter discusses three dimensions of electoral quality associated with electoral rules and applies them to Senegal,

Mali, and Niger, but also to Francophone Africa more broadly. These include the quality of the electoral system itself, the quality of electoral structures, and the quality of voting procedures.

The chapter concludes that the future of democracy rests more on the performance and resilience of democratic institutions, including the broad framework governing the entire electoral process.

CHAPTER 2 THE STUDY OF ELECTORAL REFORMS

Introduction

This dissertation draws upon the large body of literature on electoral system choice, which generally equates electoral reforms to changes in the rules defining how votes are counted and translated into seats. I argue that, empirically, the politics of electoral reform must be understood as a broader phenomenon: not exclusively the choice of an electoral system, but rather an interactive combination of the design of electoral systems in conjunction with choices of other rules of the electoral game. Jointly considering these two sets of electoral rules allows us to broaden the scope of the literature on the topic, which has been dominated by two main schools of thought: the rational-choice approach on the one hand, and the structural and institutional approach on the other. This chapter first discusses the key assumptions made by each theoretical perspective regarding the determinant of electoral systems choice, before exploring more recent works that have convincingly demonstrated that no single approach succeeds in fully explaining the drivers of electoral choice. The chapter also defines the key concepts I will use in this dissertation, and then outlines my theory that emphasizes the mechanisms of electoral reform.

The Conventional Wisdom

Rational Choice Approaches

The study of electoral reform is dominated by the classical rational choice model. It explains the origins of and changes in electoral systems as a result of strategic calculations made by political actors who choose electoral rules that meet their own goal of maximizing gains and/or minimizing losses (Boix 1999, Benoit 2004, Colomer 2004, 2005). This power- maximization perspective underlines Rokkan’s (1970) analysis of the introduction of

proportional representation (PR) systems in continental Europe in the 19th century. Rokkan argues that these electoral systems are the result of the extension of the franchise and the aspiration by established groups to maintain their positions while at the same time granting possibilities of representation to previously excluded groups. Boix (1999) formalized this explanation, building on rational choice assumptions to model the strategies of political actors in the design, the implementation, and the modification of different electoral rules in advanced democracies in the early 20th century. The choice of electoral systems in Europe, he argues, was the outcome of coordinated strategic behavior by established right-wing parties in reaction to the rise of new socialist parties. More specifically, the adoption of proportional representation (PR) was a political containment strategy that Conservatives and Liberals, unable to unite, used to protect themselves against the rising electoral threat posed by the widening franchise and the dual threat of democracy and socialism. The causal mechanism at work in this chain of reasoning is straightforward: parties that expect electoral victories prefer majoritarian systems and, conversely, the change from plurality/majority electoral rules to PR rules occurs when incumbent politicians anticipate losing elections.

A more recent context-sensitive literature within the rational choice perspective offers more nuanced explanations, arguing that the adoption of PR rules should not be treated simply as a response to socialist threat, and single-member plurality (SMP) rules as a result of the absence of such threats (Ahmed 2010, Calvo 2009). According to Ahmed (2010, 1059) “both single- member plurality (SMP) and PR were departures from the pre-democratic electoral institutions in most of Europe.” At the time they were designed, she stresses, both SMP and PR were understood as two functionally equivalent alternative responses to the threat posed by new working-class majorities. In other words, the decision to adopt either system depended on the

preexisting strategy employed by right-wing parties to contain the rise of socialist parties after the expansion of the suffrage. Although the shift away from majoritarian electoral rules was one of the trademarks of twentieth century electoral reforms, the implementation of PR systems in cases with weak or nonexistent socialist parties, like Switzerland and Denmark, raises further problems for the socialist threat argument (Calvo 2009).

Despite these nuances regarding the choice between alternative electoral systems, the rational choice model remains an actor-centered approach to explaining the determinants of electoral system choice. It assumes that politicians and parties are the key actors who act rationally, and that their aim is to maximize power. Colomer (2004) exemplifies this view when he argues that parties precede electoral rules. He writes: “electoral systems—as other prominent political institutions—are also a consequence of already existing political parties in assemblies and governments, each of which tend to prefer those institutional formulas and procedures that can consolidate, reinforce or increase their relative strength” (Colomer 2004, 13). In Colomer’s view, political parties evaluate the performance of the existing electoral rules for the type of winners and losers they tend to produce. In this respect, if the existing electoral system is restrictive and exclusionary, parties that are disadvantaged are more likely to exert pressure for electoral system change in favor of more inclusive formulas.

While it is theoretically appealing to assume that politicians and parties have a good deal of knowledge about the consequences of electoral reform and act accordingly, the picture is in fact much more complex and nuanced in real-world political situations. Critics argue that although all political actors act strategically, uncertainty is a major factor in the process of electoral rule design, especially during periods of major political transformation (Andrews and

Jackman 2004, Shvetsova 2003). Because political elites often face an extreme lack of

information on the number of political parties, the preferences of voters, and the exact impact of electoral rules, they often make serious “miscalculations” and “supported electoral rules that later eliminated them from politics” (Andrews and Jackman 2004, 65). In her analysis of the choice of electoral rules in post-communist Europe, Shvetsova (2003) makes a similar argument, and underlines the issue of institutional endogeneity. She notes that the ability of designers to directly manipulate final effects of electoral rules is limited by incomplete information about the social and political operation of institutions. Consequently, even if electoral designers may have behaved in a self-interested manner ex ante, the prevailing uncertainty severely hindered their ability to correctly predict the effects of their institutional preferences ex post (Shvetsova 2003,

193).

Further nuancing the rational choice approach, other scholars have proposed a process- based theory allowing for a wide range of both actors and motives in the process of electoral choice. They suggest that politicians and parties are not the only initiators of reform; voters, ordinary citizens, pressure groups, courts, and experts can also play a part in generating or blocking electoral reform. Renwick (2010, 2011), for instance, presents a continuum from reforms dominated by politicians (elite imposition) to those dominated by ordinary citizens

(mass imposition) and those involving both (elite–mass interaction). The two latter emphasize ordinary people as important actors in the reform process. In contrast with earlier accounts, which hypothesized the capacity of seat maximizing elites to act unilaterally, Renwick demonstrates that ordinary citizen can influence the process, though they may have distinct motivations for pursuing electoral change. Other new perspectives hypothesize more complex paths to electoral reform. These include Norris (2011) “policy cycle model” which emphases stages of agenda-setting, policy-making, implementation, and feedback to account for when and

how reform occurs, as well as the “barriers model” which suggests a sequential process to explain both instances of reform and non-reform (Rahat and Hazan 2011).

Structural and Institutional Approaches

There are others competing explanations which focus on broader structural and institutional configurations that shape and inform actors’ preferences and choices. In these explanations, mention is often made of the inheritance of (electoral) institutions (Elster et al.

1998; IDEA 2005), or of colonial legacy (Blais and Massicotte 1997; Mozaffar 1998) as crucial determining factors in the design and redesign of electoral systems. Elster et al. (1998, 62) show why past formal institutions play a role as “a focal point in the search for new institutions” in post-communist settings, especially in countries returning to democracy after a period of authoritarian rule. At times, the reference to those institutions provides a narrative to political actors who may invoke past institutions to disguise their partisan interests. At other times, reformers may choose to model new constitutional provisions on past institutional arrangements, portraying them as superior in order to generate trust in the quality of new institutions.

From a different perspective, a number of authors have analyzed choices over alternative electoral institutions, especially in former colonies, as a result of structural and historical contexts (Horowitz 1985), or as a colonial relic derived from an inherited set of electoral rules

(Blais and Massicotte 1997; Mozaffar 1998; Reily and Reynolds 1999). For instance, Blais and

Massicotte (1997) argue that colonial background is a strong predictor of the choice of an electoral formula. They go on to note that “former British colonies are much more likely to have adopted the plurality rule” than French colonies, where the legacy of electoral rules appears to be weak (1997, 111-2). In the same vein, Mozaffar (1998) distinguishes among three analytically distinct variations of electoral system choice in Africa, including the Anglophone pattern, the

Francophone pattern, and the southern Africa pattern. Mozaffar attributes the use of plurality

rules in Anglophone countries to the pervasive institutional legacies of colonial regimes. The existence of autonomous associations under the British colonial administration coupled with the introduction of plurality rules in the early post-independence period, he argues, provided incentives for elites to maintain strong holds through patronage. In Francophone Africa, by contrast, the post-colonial regimes inherited the French centralized institutional legacy, and ruling regimes have tended to organize associational life “into state-sponsored peak associations.” Such structures did not provide incentives for elites to build strong constituency ties. Consequently, Mozaffar concludes, the inclusion of equally balanced social forces into discussions about choice of electoral systems led to a “strategic convergence on PR” in the 1990s

(1998, 87).

The hypothesis that colonial inheritance is a common way in which African democratizing countries adopt electoral provisions has important limitations. It may be largely valid in explaining episodes of institutional design or redesign at or during the early years of independence, especially given that the institutional incentive structures that had developed under colonial rule may have continued to prevail. However, there are indications that such a hypothesis does not well capture the recent reforms, given that the weight of reference to colonial or past institutions as a focal point is likely to have significantly decreased. These approaches provide us no answers as to why Francophone West African colonies—notably for my purposes Senegal, Mali and Niger, countries with the same colonial legacy and very similar socioeconomic structures—have ended up today with different electoral systems for parliamentary elections, despite the fact that they all used the same majoritarian system in the final years of colonialism.

Moving Beyond the Conventional Wisdom

While the actor-centered approach facilitates generalization, the bounded rationality of political elites especially under conditions of high uncertainty means that different structural and contextual factors could influence their perceptions and preferences in similar or dissimilar ways.

Likewise, the structural and institutional approach helps us to understand how different historical contexts, political institutions, and socioeconomic contexts could shape actors’ preferences over alternative electoral systems. However, it cannot tell us why different political actors make different choices and why, for instance, one choice prevails over another within similar social and structural contexts, as in the cases of Senegal, Mali and Niger. While each approach to conceptualizing the origins of and changes in electoral systems has some compelling aspects, the process of electoral choice in the real world of politics is too complex to be understood via a single mode of explanation.

As approaches to explaining electoral reform oscillate between the two extremes—on the one hand those that emphasize the primacy of actors and agency as a causal factor in electoral system choice and, on the other, deterministic explanations of actors’ preferences and behavior as a direct consequence of the effects that structures and institutions have on them—the most appealing theories appear to come from the middle path between the two. In recent years, several scholars sensitive to processes and mechanisms have sought to bring the two alternative approaches together (Luong 2002; Moraski 2006, Blais 2008a, Rahat 2008). Moraski’s (2006) work exemplifies how the sensitivity to context and the role of Russian regional politicians understood as power-maximizers help to explain the variety of parliamentary electoral systems

(electoral formulas, district sizes, and assembly sizes) chosen across Russia in the early post-

Soviet era. His close analysis of elite politics within the same structural context demonstrates the importance of the political positions of the institutional designers (governors versus legislators)

as well as their political orientations (insiders versus outsiders) to the design of parliamentary electoral systems.

Other scholars in this vein have noted that, in explaining the occurrence of an event such as electoral reform, determinants can be broken down into a mix of inherent (systemic failures) and contingent (seat-maximization) factors. The former create the pre-conditions for reform whereas the latter represent the trigger for the process to begin (Shugart and Wattenberg 2001;

Shugart 2001). Shugart (2001, 25) argues that electoral systems are “inherently prone to reformist pressures” in situations where representation is allocated in an extreme manner on either the inter-party or intra-party dimension.

My core argument here is that neither of these approaches can adequately account for electoral changes in the new and contested democratic contexts of sub-Saharan Africa that began prior to the 1990s. The bulk of the above mentioned literature on electoral reform focuses heavily on electoral systems, and paid scant attention to other rules governing the entire electoral process. This would seem to be the case because electoral governance (electoral administration, election regulatory bodies and norms, dispute resolution mechanisms, etc.) is an issue largely taken for granted—especially in established liberal democracies where electoral processes are in general procedurally fair and technically sound. The same cannot be said of new African (or indeed other) democracies, where the governance of electoral processes is often very weak, and where distrust among political actors runs very high (Mozaffar 2002, 88). Because the overall performance of the political system is deficient, and election results do not always reflect the will of the voters freely expressed at the ballot box, the heated debates surrounding the choice of electoral systems inevitably involve not only the systems themselves, but also controversies over the flaws in the rules governing the entire electoral process, generally described as failing to

meet standards of electoral inclusiveness and fairness. Before taking up this argument further, I will define my main concepts in the next section, and then offer a comprehensive theoretical framework.

Defining the Key Concepts

The scholarship on electoral systems generally emphasizes the set of rules for parliamentary elections, and distinguishes the concept of electoral systems from related concepts such as electoral laws or procedures, and electoral formula. Electoral laws are the broader institutional framework governing the entire electoral process, including a wide ranges of issues: who has the right to vote or run for office, how voters are registered, who administers elections, and following what administrative procedures, who may officially call or schedule elections, campaign finance and media access, the final determining and announcing of electoral results, and the adjudication of electoral disputes (Katz 1997, 107–118; Lundell 2010, 17; Mozaffar

2002, 87; Renwick 2010, 2). These procedures are important in determining the significance and legitimacy of an election (Gallagher and Mitchell 2005, 3). Electoral systems, on the other hand, are “those rules which govern the processes by which preferences are articulated as votes and by which these votes are translated into the election of decision makers” (Blaise 1988, 100).

Electoral systems are therefore subsets of electoral laws. They are “concerned with the final stage of the election process: how citizens vote, the style of the ballot paper, constituency structure, the method of counting, and the final determination of who is elected” (Lundell 2010,

17).

Electoral systems are generally classified following three basic dimensions: the electoral formula, the ballot structures, and the nature and magnitude of the district (Blais 1988; Lijphart

1994). These denote, respectively, the rules defining how votes are counted and translated into seats, those that indicate how votes are cast, and those that define the number of representatives

by constituency (or the number of seats allocated in an electoral district). However, in most analyses the greatest emphasis is put on the electoral formula (Massicotte and Blais 2002, 41), though there is quite a bit of focus on district magnitude (See Rae 1967; Taagepera and Shugart

1989). Despite the large range of voting procedures, all electoral formulas constitute subtypes of four categories of electoral systems: plurality formulas, majoritarian formulas, proportional formulas, and mixed electoral systems (Lundell 2010, 18).

Table 2-2. A Typology of Electoral System Electoral system Electoral formulas A. Plurality systems 1. Single-member plurality (SMP) 2. Block vote (BV) 3. Single-member plurality - Block vote (SMP-BV) 4. Limited vote (LV): Single non-transferable. vote (SNTV)

B. Majority Systems 5. One-ballot majority (OBM) 6. Two-ballot majority (TBM) 7. Alternative vote (AV)

C. Proportional systems 8. List PR 9. Single transferable vote (STV)

D. Mixed system 10. Coexistence 11. Superposition 12. Fusion 13. Conditional 14. Corrective 15. Supermixed Source: Lundell (2010, 25)

One implication of this standard view of electoral systems is a subsequent inclination to define wholesale changes of the electoral systems and/or formulas as what counts as an electoral reform. Lijphart (1994) offers a definition centered on the degree of proportionality. He arbitrarily sets a cut-off point of 20 percent, and considers any change in district magnitude, legal threshold or assembly size exceeding this percentage as a “major” electoral reform. Restricting electoral reforms to the occurrence of a change in the electoral system and/or formula has an

effect on the number of cases available for empirical study, given that major electoral reforms are relatively rare events. It also has subsequent theoretical implications since scholars have tended to think of electoral systems as permanent fixtures and that—once an electoral system is implemented—change had been relatively uncommon given the existence of various hurdles that render the rules of the game relatively stable, particularly in established democracies (Katz 1980,

123; Norris 1995; Cox 1997, 18; Renwick 2010).

Electoral reform, defined as a wholesale and radical replacement of the basic electoral system and/or formula, or 20 percent change in district magnitude and legal threshold, may be hard to undertake because electoral systems are sometimes embedded in constitutions, and changes require a supermajority approval of parliamentarians or the citizens through a referendum. Electoral reform may also be hard to implement because the ones who hold the key for change—generally incumbents who won elections under the existing electoral system—have no incentive to alter the rules of the game as long as they remain a winning arrangement (Bowler and Donovan 2013). It may also be that electoral systems tend to remain fairly enduring as political interests freeze around them, and political actors, including those from the opposition, respond to the incentives provided by them (Smith and Remington 1996).

This inherently conservative nature of electoral systems has usually proven to be the case in most Western democracies during the postwar period, though countries have occasionally switched electoral formulas, adjusted the effective voting thresholds, and expanded their assembly size and suffrage qualifications (Lijphart 1994). However, following the end of the

Cold War and the global spread of democracy in the mid-990s, a wave of “major” electoral reforms swept established democracies and newly democratized countries alike. The various system changes in countries like Italy, Israel, Japan and New Zealand (Rahat 2008; Renwick

2010; Shugart and Wattenberg 2001)—some of which (Israel, Italy) continued to change— together with the new electoral systems of the Eastern European countries and Africa seemed to challenge the conventional view that “fundamental changes are rare and arise only in extraordinary historical situation” (Nohlen 1984, 218).

While recent history has produced a large number of cases of electoral change around the world, an empirical analysis of the determinants of such changes still requires a clear definition of what counts as an electoral reform. Given that electoral rules include many attributes, of which electoral systems are only one component, scholars like Katz (2005) and Jacobs and

Leyenaar (2011) have attempted to expand the definition of electoral reform beyond Lijphart’s

“major” reforms to include what they categorize as “minor” and “technical” reforms. These two types of reforms are different from “major” reforms in that they take into consideration changes in electoral rules beyond proportionality. Jacobs and Leyenaar (2011) have considered five dimensions of electoral reform, including electoral procedures.

This dissertation builds on existing conceptualizations and considers electoral reform as involving changes in three conceptually distinct but empirically related sets of formal electoral rules, as indicated in Table 2-1. The first set of rules is associated with electoral systems— including electoral formulas, district magnitudes, constituency boundaries, and assembly size.

The second set of rules is related to electoral procedures, namely the legal framework that regulates not only how authorities should administratively conduct an election (Jacobs and

Leyenaar 2011), but also how election stakeholders (such as parties, candidates, and voters) should participate in the electoral process. To be effective, electoral procedures should be fair and clear enough to minimize undue restrictions on the political freedoms of candidates and voters. Electoral procedures also include other regulatory aspects of an election, such as

campaign finance and media coverage and electoral dispute adjudication mechanisms (Katz,

1997: 107–118, Mozaffar 2002: 87).

Table 2-2. Scope and Dimensions of Electoral Reforms Formal electoral Description Dimensions rules

Those rules which govern the The electoral formula: rules defining processes by which thousands or how votes are counted and translated millions of citizens’ preferences into seats. Electoral systems are counted as votes, and by which The ballot structures: Rules that indicate these votes are translated into the how votes are cast. election of a small number of The nature and magnitude of the district: parliamentarians. rules that define the number of representatives by constituency.

The legal framework that regulates Candidacy for elections: procedures not only how authorities should regulating political parties and/or Electoral administratively conduct an candidates. procedures election, but also how election Electors: procedures determining who is stakeholders (such as parties, eligible to vote and how voters are candidates, and voters) should registered. participate in the electoral process. The conduct of elections: procedures determining the official call for elections, the tabulation and announcing of the election results, and adjudication mechanisms for electoral disputes.

The designated Electoral Governmental EMB: It is headed by Electoral structures Management Bodies (EMBs) in state officials or civil servants who are charge of administrating the accountable to a cabinet minister. electoral process.1 Independent/autonomous EMB: It is independent of the executive branch of government. Mixed EMB: It combines features of the independent and the governmental model.

The third set of rules is associated with electoral structures. They consist of the designated bodies in charge of determining electoral procedures and implementing major

1 See Wall, Alan et al. 2006. Electoral Management Design: The International Idea Handbook. Stockholm: International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance.

administrative and logistics operations (Wall et al. 2006; Mozaffar 2002). Electoral

Management Bodies (EMBs) can be divided three models. The first, the governmental model, is directed by state officials or civil servants who are accountable to a cabinet minister. The second type is the independent/autonomous model. It is generally led by a person (or persons) from outside the government. The third, the mixed model, combines features of the independent and the governmental models (Wall et al. 2006).

Until the mid-1990s, many Francophone West African countries had maintained a governmental model of electoral management.2 The subsequent lack of impartiality of electoral structures generated heated discussions over whether the administration of elections should be taken out of the hands of, say, the Ministry of the Interior and transferred to non-partisan electoral management bodies (EMBs), or at times a mixed EMB. Recent trends in electoral reforms in Mali, Niger, and Senegal show a move towards more hybrid and inclusive electoral structures. On the one hand, electoral procedures have restricted specific prerogatives over the administrations of elections by dividing the authority to conduct various electoral operations among different administrative bodies—e.g. both the Ministry of the Interior and independent or autonomous bodies—subjecting them to a mechanism of checks and balances. On the other hand, electoral procedures have ensured political balance in the composition of these independent or autonomous bodies. This is done by giving representatives of partisan actors

(from different political parties) and of non-partisan actors (from societal groups) a role in administering the election.3 All these efforts were meant to foster trust in the electoral process by making sure that electoral structures are legally and institutionally autonomous in such a way

2 See Fall, Ismaïla Madior et al. 2011. Election Management Bodies in West Africa. AfriMAP and the Open Society Initiative for West Africa (OSIWA).

3 See Hounkpe, Mathias and Fall, Ismaïla Madior. 2011. Electoral Commissions in West Africa: A Comparative Study. Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung: http://library.fes.de/pdf-files/bueros/nigeria/07951.pdf

as to guarantee independence of operation and minimize discrimination or other deviations from the procedures.

This dissertation also builds on existing work by focusing on electoral reforms for legislative elections. It is true that there have been recent efforts to define electoral reform in relation to changes in rules defining who is elected at different levels of office (presidential, parliament, or local government) (Katz 2005; Leyenaar and Hazan, 2011). At the presidential level, however, the study of electoral systems in Francophone Africa does not provide a fruitful basis for comparison. Indeed, in virtually all Francophone West African countries—including in

Senegal, Niger, and Mali—the electoral system governing presidential elections is a two-round majority run-off system, as in France.

In addition, I define electoral reform as any change in different aspects of the broad electoral institutional framework (including the electoral system, electoral procedures, and electoral structures) intended to improve the responsiveness of electoral processes regarding how public desires and expectations are translated into parliamentary election results and seats.

Obviously, not all reforms are meant to guarantee that election results reflect the will of the voters freely expressed at the ballot box. I will refer to any other reform that fails to meet standards of electoral inclusiveness as electoral manipulation, often masked as reform. Electoral procedures are easy to modify and update. While they make it easy to deal with electoral integrity issues as they arise, they can also be amenable to manipulation in favor of incumbents who may seek preferential treatment. This is what Birch (2007, 1535) refers to as the

“manipulation of the electoral process.” It involves the distortion of electoral laws so as to benefit one party or contestant in an election. Such electoral rule manipulation alters the level

“playing field” subtending elections, as, for example, when an incumbent candidate prevents

certain political forces from contesting elections (Birch 2007, 1536), or when large sectors of the adult population are denied the possibility of voting.

This distinction between electoral reform and electoral manipulation masked as reform is important to make if we are to understand how incumbent politicians manage to change the electoral system to make it more inclusive and appease the opposition, while manipulating other electoral rules to retain their capacity of “distorting ‘the will of the people’ as it emanates from the ballot box” (Schedler 2009, 183). The next section outlines my theory of electoral reform. It emphasizes the circumstances under which electoral reform is put on the policy agenda and how the process of designing electoral rules involves choice of electoral system in conjunction with other rules of the electoral game.

A Theory of the Politics of Electoral Reform

Rationally speaking, political actors or parties who benefit from the existing electoral system—generally the ruling elite who are in the position to reform it—are unlikely to support change as long as the current system remains a winning arrangement and allows them to advance their partisan goals in the parliament (Rokkan 19970; Boix 1999; Benoit 2004). On the other hand, political parties (parliamentary or non-parliamentary parties) that have been most often in the opposition and most dissatisfied with the existing electoral system are more likely to support a change (Colomer 2004). However, politicians do not have the monopoly in terms of prompting reforms, nor do they necessarily have the final word. Actors outside the political arena in their interaction with politicians can considerably influence reform outcomes. Whether or not electoral reform is put on the policy agenda depends on a host of factors and motivations—not just on the rational preferences of politicians (Renwick 2010; Rahat and Hazan 2011; Norris 2011).

Why and When does Electoral System Change Occur?

Politicians generally face a trade-off between the desire to win elections and the desire to retain legitimacy (Schedler 2002, 36-7; Birch 2007). The classical rational choice explanation suggests that incumbent politicians who perceive the threat of losing the next election under current electoral rules as high may be inclined to change them. The electoral threat explanation is straightforward in terms of accounting for why rational political actors attempt to change electoral systems to maximize seat share in the legislative, but is obviously limited when it comes to explaining why incumbent elites would implement electoral reforms that would harm their possibility of being reelected. One way to address this limitation is to complement the electoral threat explanation with another variable: the existence of opposition extra-institutional threats to the survival of the regime (Benoit 2004, 378; Barzachka, 2014, 212). Extra- institutional threats occur when opposition groups, unable to influence any change through formal channels, use extra-institutional means (mass protests, civil unrest, violence or secession) to threaten the tenure of the regime.

Two major contingent factors are likely to generate extra-institutional threats from opposition groups. The first is the extent of public dissatisfaction with the current political system (Shugart and Wattenberg 2001). In Francophone Africa, this discontent has generally led to a push for regime change and a reexamination of the existing institutional arrangements, particularly in the 1990s. The second contingent factor is public distrust of the current electoral institutional framework resulting from electoral misconduct (Birch 2007). This sentiment is usually sparked by an event in which the outcome of an electoral contest generates the perception of electoral malpractice, encouraging post-electoral protests and strengthening public pressures for reform. Electoral reform under conditions of heightened extra-institutional threat should therefore be understood as a strategy used by the incumbent politicians to prevent

revolutionary change that may jeopardize the system itself, and/or to restore the legitimacy of the regime (Renwick 2010: 12). Such a strategy is implicit in what Barzachka (2014: 213) refers to as “tactical seat-loss.” Building on a conception of electoral reform as driven by either electoral threat or by extra-institutional threat (or both), I advance the following proposition:

Proposition 1: When incumbent politicians perceive electoral threat as high, they will implement reforms that maximize seats and minimize losses. However, when they perceive extra-institutional threat to the regime as high, they will relax seat maximization and value electoral reforms that enhance the prospects of their survival in the political system.

From this perspective, three case scenarios of change could be considered, depending on whether the perception of electoral threats and extra-institutional threats is high or low. First, and most obviously, incumbent politicians will prefer not to reform the electoral system as long as they perceive both threats as low, but they will be inclined to undertake reform when their perception of one of the threats is high.

Second, when forced to reform electoral rules as a result of opposition extra-institutional pressure, incumbent politicians will try to change the electoral system to make it more inclusive and appease the opposition, while manipulating other electoral rules to retain control over electoral procedures and electoral structures. Incumbent politicians may alternatively seek to maintain the electoral system and change electoral procedures and structures in order to provide some semblance of procedural fairness and structural inclusiveness, as was the case in Senegal in

1992. This opens the door to manipulation being sneaked under the electoral reform umbrella.

Insofar as electoral rules in general advantage incumbent politicians and parties, opposition groups are likely to accept either for two reasons. The first reason that may push opposition actors to acquiesce is when they face what Schedler (2009, 186) refers to as “the dilemma of protest,” meaning that strategies such as boycott or protest may generate high “credibility costs”—particularly if voters have positive judgments about the nature of the incumbent regime.

This was the case in Mali in 1998, as will be discussed further in chapter 7. The second reason that may motivate opposition actors to accept changes in electoral procedures and structures is when they ascribe great value to the administration of the electoral process. In Senegal, Mali, and

Niger, the opposition is constantly trying to make sure, for instance, that the electoral campaigns are not unduly biased in favor of the incumbent parties or candidates (who generally have access to state-controlled media), that the results reflect the will of the voters freely expressed at the ballot box (that is, that there be limited fraud), and that judicial institutions adjudicate electoral disputes fairly.

Third, the objective of any politician is to gain power—ideally though the ballot box— and once in power, to consolidate it as long as this is in line with the maximum number of successive term provided by the electoral law. This means that, above all, politicians are concerned about ensuring their political tenure. Subsequently, if the extra-institutional pressure is high enough to threaten the survival of their regime, incumbent politicians would primarily be concerned with reforming the broader electoral institutional framework—including the electoral system—to meet the demands of the opposition if this can help them to buy time and negotiate their role in the political system in the short run. This is particularly the case when electoral reform is carried out in the context of even broader institutional changes (see Herron 2007).

How is the Choice of Electoral System Made?

Electoral rules can change through a variety of mechanisms. Figure 2-2 represents the core argument and provides a visual representation of the mechanism and outcome of electoral reform. More specifically, it indicates that electoral threat and extra-institutional threat constitute the two main drivers of electoral reforms. However, the number and relative strength of the different players during the process leading up to the choice of alternative electoral rules,

in conjunction with the timing and contextual factors, affect both the mechanism of electoral reform and the outcome.

Figure 2-1. Mechanism of Electoral Rule Choice

This work builds on Bernhard’s distinction between four mechanisms of institutional choice. These include choices by imposition (when an actor or coalition of actors forces their preferred institutional arrangement upon other actors), by consensus (when all agree on one option) and—when the choice occurs as part of a compromise—by splitting differences or by trading support across issues (Bernhard 2005: 17). I somewhat modify this framework and consider that electoral reform occurs as a result of an imposition or a negotiation (in which case they can be chosen by a consensus or via compromise).

Electoral reform can be made by imposition. This happens when politicians holding majority power can introduce the electoral system of their choice, often (though as we shall see, not always) to enhance their share of power, and “compel other actors to accept it” (Bernhard

2005: 17). During times of “normal politics,” one may expect politicians who control a sufficient number of seats in parliament to impose electoral reforms (Renwick 2010, 13). The fact that

reform needs the support of a legislative majority means that electoral system choice by imposition is likely to be the norm in context of dominant party systems. This was typical of the reforms in Senegal implemented respectively under Leopold Sédar Senghor in 1978 and his successor, Abdou Diouf in 1983, both incumbents enjoying a political monopoly over the system at the time when these changes were being made. Although a number of critical issues may play a role in facilitating or blocking the electoral reform, the parliamentary decision-making process provides the majority camp—generally the incumbent politicians—with a potential veto point if the opposition in the parliament happens to propose electoral reforms that are not a winning arrangement for the former.

Proposition 2: Where dominant incumbents in the political system perceive electoral threats as high and where they retain legislative majority, they are likely to impose electoral reforms to maximize their seat share in the parliament. Likewise, where dominant incumbents in the political system perceive extra-institutional threats as high and where they retain legislative majority, they are likely to impose more inclusive electoral reforms to mitigate the potential of the opposition to jeopardize the system.

Election reform can be achieved through negotiation. This means that opposing camps manage to come up with a mixed solution that balances the preferences of each camp, based on wide consensus or a compromise. A negotiation results in a compromise when the decision- making process leads to mutual concessions over a temporary solution that partially satisfies opposing camps. This means that each party displays a willingness to give up on getting a full portion of their preferred institutional arrangement to get the other to make a concession. In the process of electoral reforms, the compromise can occur by splitting the difference when opposing camps make a concession over a solution that falls half-way between two extreme preferred positions (Bernhard 2005, 17-18). For instance, a compromise can be reached on a mixed system that combines part of what advocates of a single-member district electoral system and proportional representation originally want. A compromise can also be reached when contending

parties abandoned plans to put forward their preferred electoral system and negotiate over electoral procedures and electoral structures. A negotiation can lead to a consensus when contending camps are able to reach a mutual agreement over a final solution that benefits all parties and actors, rather than competing individual preferences. This does not mean that all stakeholders believe that the final decision is absolutely the best one possible. Rather, it implies that actors and parties involved in negotiation processes are able to work out differences of motivations and to reach an agreement on a solution accepted if not by all, at least by the majority of stakeholders.

This scenario of reform through a compromise or a consensus is especially likely to be the case during periods of democratic transition (Kitschelt, 1992; Luong 2002; Mozaffar 2002,

87). In such a context, the choice of electoral institutions is usually embedded in the broader game of regime change (see Herron 2007). For the most part, electoral rules are chosen in direct negotiations between contending actors—including the incumbent party, the political opposition, and others groups—generally outside of formal decision-making procedures and institutions such as the parliament. In these contexts of democratic transition, the future effects of the electoral rules to be designed are uncertain for political actors, including the incumbent party, given their relatively limited electoral experience (Andrews and Jackman 2004).

As in post-communist settings, these reform processes are influenced by the modes of regime transition (Kitschelt et al., 1999), which are in turn shaped by the nature of the preexisting non-democratic regime types. For instance, in cases where the previous authoritarian regime has collapsed during the process of democratic transition, a compromise is more likely to emerge among bargaining groups as a way to mitigate uncertainty (Birch 2003, 32; Geddes et al.

2014). This is typical of the transition in Mali in 1991, which followed a long period of

authoritarian rule. Given that the political landscape was populated by equally embryonic parties with poor political experience, actors involved in the negotiation over the design of a new institutional framework valued a long-term competitive electoral system over immediate conflicts of interest, at the risk of jeopardizing the fragile process of transition.

Proposition 3: Where the previous authoritarian regime has collapsed during the process of democratic transition and there are equally balanced forces, then political actors are likely to build consensus and reach mutual agreement over the same electoral rules, despite diverging preferences.

By contrast, in cases where the previous authoritarian regime has not collapsed during the process of democratic transition, the incumbent may be inclined to maintain the status quo.

However, since they may not be able to fully control the process of electoral reform, they may abandon their initial choice. Indeed, the new political context is different from the one that prevailed in the past. Even though the holders of the previous regime may have been “winning” elections under the previous non-competitive electoral rules, “regardless of considerable latent popular opposition” (Geddes 2006, 7), they may no longer be able to win—even under the previous electoral rules. This may be true since the previous elections under an electoral authoritarian regime are not competitive and the ruling party thus has no mean to assess its capacity of mobilization (Gandhi 2008). Moreover, since the design of the new electoral rules occurs in a context of political crisis, the newly formed opposition parties and groups are likely to pressure for change in a way the makes the rules of the game more inclusive. Subsequently, the ruling regime will prefer compromise over confrontation in order to keep power—at least in the short run—even though such change in electoral rules may result in worse unexpected consequences in the long run.

Proposition 4: Where the previous authoritarian regime has not collapsed during the process of democratic transition, the ruling regime is likely to compromise in order to reach a mutual concession over electoral rules if the opposition forces maintain pressure or manage to dominate the process of negotiation.

In sum, reform efforts can happen for various reasons. Where the incumbents dominate the process—generally in time of normal politics—they are likely to shape and impose the reform outcome. However, there can be constraints on imposition. This was notably the case in

Mali in 1996 when the government used its supermajority in the parliament to impose a mixed electoral system after several rounds of unsuccessful negotiations with the opposition. The

Constitutional Court then stepped in and invalidated this draft electoral code. In contrast, where the opposition has the upper hand—mostly during times of transition politics—the outcome is more likely to be the result of a negotiated settlement. This negotiation can lead to either a consensus, when the process involves equally balanced social and political forces after the collapse of the previous non-democratic regime, or a compromise if the previous regime does not collapse and retains formal roles during the transition and in the choice of electoral rules.

Conclusion

In this chapter, I have tried to build on existing literature to provide an alternative framework for explaining the determinants of electoral rules change. I have proposed that whether electoral reform is put on the policy agenda depends on the emergence of two sets of threats that provide incentives for change: electoral threat to incumbent politicians or parties, and extra-institutional threats to the survival of incumbent regimes. The configuration of actors in conjunction with other political, social, and economic factors during the process of electoral system choice determine whether electoral reform occurs as a result of an imposition or a negotiation (in which case they can be chosen by a consensus or via compromise).

The theoretical framework I propose does not claim to be an exhaustive treatment of electoral reforms, but rather it seeks to open new research avenues and identify new challenges for further improvement of analytical tools that may arise from combining the two dominant perspectives, namely the rational choice approach and the sociological institutionalist approach.

In addition, I propose that, a creative synthesis of explanations for electoral system change and changes in other rules of the electoral game (e.g., electoral procedures and electoral structures), however difficult—at least conceptually—can be a fruitful empirical path of inquiry. In the following chapters I use the framework developed above to offer comprehensive explanations of episodes of electoral reform in Senegal, Niger, and Mali between 1945 and 2013.

CHAPTER 3 THE ORIGINS OF ELECTORAL RULES IN FRANCOPHONE AFRICA

Introduction

Electoral rules were born in French West Africa1 as part of an ongoing debate on the relationship between the French Republic and the French Empire and, ultimately, on the right of colonial people to French citizenship and nationality. Because colonial Africans were brought into the French colonial framework, French citizenship and nationality became a marker of permanent difference and a landmark for the distance a “subject of the French empire” had to travel before becoming a “citizen of the French Republic” who would enjoy full political and voting rights. Initially, these rights were granted to citizens (both settlers and natives) of what were known as the “Four Communes” of Senegal—the earliest French colonial settlements on the coast, namely Saint-Louis and Gorée (1872), Rufisque (1880) and Dakar (1887)—which had representative institutions not granted to other colonies in Africa. Indeed, citizens of the

Communes sent representatives to the French parliament during the French revolution of 1789 and, following the 1848 revolution, won the right to Municipal Councils, an elected General

Council, and a representative in the French National Assembly (Johnson 1971).2 Throughout the

French Third Republic (1871-1940), there was only one legislative seat allocated to all black

1 The Afrique Occidentale Française (AOF) was one of two large colonial administrative units that comprised the French Empire in Africa. The AOF originally grouped the colonies of the Ivory Coast, Guinea, Senegal and Soudan. Later, Dahomey, Niger, Mauritania were set up as separate administrative units and incorporated into the AOF. The official transfer of power from a military to a civilian administration took place in the former “Military Territories” of Mauritania and Niger respectively in 1920 and 1922. In 1921, the territory of Upper Volta was created. It was dissolved in 1932 and carved up between the French colonies of Ivory Coast, Soudan and Niger, before it was reconstituted in 1947 with its previous boundaries. A similar federation to the AOF, the Afrique équatoriale française (AEF), was established in 1910 and brought together French colonial possessions in Central Africa. It comprised what are today the countries of Chad, the Central African Republic, Cameroon, the Republic of the Congo, and Gabon.

2 For more details on the evolution of local governments in the four Communes, see Johnson, G. Wesley. 1971. The Emergence of Black Politics in Senegal: The Struggle for Power in the Four Communes, 1900-1920. Stanford: Calif. Chapter 2, pp. 38-62.

Africans living in the French colonies, and this remained the single parliamentary representation in the French parliament until 1945. However, several reforms were gradually undertaken in later years—under various circumstances and processes—in the direction of granting more rights to

African people.

The adoption of the law on the naturalization of veterans in 1916 (i.e. their right to apply for French citizenship) was conditional upon military services rendered to France during World

War I. The establishment of the dual Electoral College system in 1945—one for “citizens” and another for “subjects”—was primarily a reward to colonial people for aligning themselves with

Free France leaders during World War II. It came as a possibility given to colonial Africans to elect delegates to the French Constituent Assembly. The Lamine Guèye Law of 1946, which granted overseas people the rights of French citizens, was initiated by a Senegalese deputy with the strong support his fellow African and a number of French parliamentarians. Finally, the establishment of a single Electoral College in 1956 was largely the result of pressures outside the parliamentarian circles carried out by African labor organizations through a series of large-scale strikes, with support from African political leaders, at a time when colonial powers were more broadly in retreat.

Each of the above mentioned reforms appears unique in its kind in terms of who initiated it, and how it unfolded. However, all also have a great deal in common. While they reflect demands put forward by politicians from metropolitan France or French-speaking African elites, they were triggered by external events over which these actors had no control—such as the First and the Second World War, and the wave of decolonization. They unfolded and evolved through a process of tensions and negotiations between actors who had a stake in maintaining or changing the colonial status quo, or who had alternative views of particular reforms during those

pivotal historical moments. Unlike pre-war reform processes from which the colonized were largely excluded, a significant number of West African delegates took part in the debates leading up to post World War II electoral reforms. The final reform outcome would seem to have been determined by three patterns of power configuration among actors. The first concerns political divisions within the French party system and shifting alliance patterns in French metropolitan politics throughout the colonial period. The second is the awareness of African politicians that their chances of achieving more inclusive electoral reforms could be enhanced through alliances with one of the rival metropolitan parties, especially after World War II. The third is the instrumental role of the growing African labor movement in bringing about political changes in the final years of colonialism.

More specifically, these changes were driven by the fact that the proposed forms of continued French rule were deemed unacceptable to many Africans (and to colonial “subjects” in particular). The mobilization of Africans outside the deliberations in Paris played a role in forcing the French hand on changing their plans to maintain colonial structures. The implementation of a single college was a strategy employed by colonial authorities to contain the rise of claims of equal rights for colonial African unionists with their French counterparts after the expansion of the suffrage in 1946. Reform was further hastened by the wars in Vietnam and

Algeria in the 1950s, and the move from the French Union established in 1946 occurred only with the Loi-cadre in 1956, which provided for local territorial self-government—the precursor to local assemblies and voting systems.

In order to understand why electoral systems in West Africa emerged in the way that they did one should link their occurrence to the broad institutional arrangements and the ideological drives that initially connected France to its West African possessions. Perhaps the most

disturbing aspect of this relationship—and one which became very contentious—was the division of Africans between “citizens of the French Nation” and “subjects of the French

Empire.” The long-lasting legacy of inequality generated by this division of Africans into two classes of citizenship was the driver of the initial debates that opposed the French colonial administrators who wanted to maintain the colonial status quo and the tiny African elite (known as évolués) who were fighting for the expansion of the French citizenship and associated rights to all Africans.

Citizens of the French Republic and Subjects of the French Empire

The relations between France and its colonies in West Africa date back to the seventeenth century (Bruschi 2010) and was later shaped by the dominant belief in the eighteenth century that France had a mission civilisatrice vis-à-vis native Africans (Crowder 1978). The colonial administration was installed at the end of the nineteenth century and it was not completely established until the turn of the twentieth century (Clark and Gardinier 1997, 10). The formal exercise of France sovereignty over overseas territories was initially characterized by a steady transfer of executive power from France to colonial administrators and the creation of the

Ministry of the Colonies in 1894 (Newbury 1960). The foundation of the Afrique occidentale française (Federation of French West Africa—AOF) in June 1895 and its final reorganization as an administrative entity in 1904 came at an important juncture in the establishment of the colonial order. It marked the imposition of French central administration over its new possessions, following the destruction of indigenous societies and structures, an administration that was divided into smaller administrative units that no longer overlapped with pre-colonial boundaries (Baudais 2015, 89-90).

Prior to the creation of the AOF in 1895, the exercise of France sovereignty over black

African territories consisted in exporting metropolitan political institutions and educational

systems into the four Communes of Senegal. This was part of the French assimilationist policy of the nineteenth century, reiterated in the egalitarian principles of the 1848 Revolution in France and maintained throughout the colonial period. These principles confirmed the acquisition of the

French language as a fundamental criterion for citizenship in these French settlements in Black

Africa (Zuccarelli 1987).

Up until the Second World War, almost all Africans living in the French colonies were not citizens of France, but colonial “subjects,” lacking rights before the law, property ownership rights, rights to travel, dissent, or political rights (Schachter-Morgenthau 1964). The notable exceptions were the originaires (or natives) of the four Communes of Senegal, where the initial ideology of cultural “assimilation” had produced policies granting inhabitants political rights not extended to most colonial Africans. It should be noted, however, that originaires were never clearly granted full French citizenship in the nineteenth century although they are occasionally referred to as citizens (Shereikis 2001, 263). The 1830 Civil Code and the 1833 act of the French

Parliament established full equality for all freeborn people or liberated slaves in Senegal. But it was not until the promulgation of the 1833 law in Senegal and the abolition of slavery from

French territory for good in 1848 that the French administration established elective councils in the Communes. It also awarded originaires universal manhood suffrage and the right to vote for a single representative to the French National Assembly (Bruschi 2010, 431-32; Ellis 2000: 40).

Initially dominated by Frenchman and then Métis (mixed race) inhabitants of the

Communes, this suffrage was severely restricted as the French expanded into the interior of

Africa from the 1800s onwards, and only the very rare “assimilated” originaires were granted

French citizenship and full voting rights to elect representatives to Municipal Councils and a

General Council, as well as a parliamentarian to the French National Assembly (Johnson 1971).

They included all men over the age of twenty-five who could prove they were resident of the

Communes for at least five years and also the few French-educated Africans (known as évolués) who had renounced recourse to Islamic law (Zuccarelli 1987, 39-40). Even at this point, the notion of citizenship was an elusive status since it was not clear whether it was the same as that held by metropolitan Frenchmen (Genova 2004a). Indeed, a distinction was made between holders of French civil status (statut civil français) who enjoyed “all the rights of French citizens” and holders of personal status (statut personnel) who had “all the duties of French subjects” and were not eligible to vote until 1916.3

Besides, metropolitan politicians and French colonial administrators disagreed on the relevance of granting voting rights to colonial people. This right was revoked in 1852 after Louis

Napoleon Bonaparte overthrew the Second Republic and established the French Second Empire

(Zuccarelli 1987, 24), but it was eventually restored in 1871 when the Third Republic reestablished Parliamentary representation for the colony of Senegal and introduced elective councils patterned on the metropolitan example (Bruschi 2010, 432). Until the fall of the Third

Republic in the 1940s, there was only one legislative seat allocated to citizens (both settlers and natives) of the Communes, and this remained the single parliamentary representation from black

Africa in the French parliament—though it was again eliminated in 1875 for a few years and reintroduced in 1879. This seat was allocated by a single Electoral College for all citizens of the four Communes. Balloting for this seat was by a two round system; a second vote was held if none of the candidates receive at least one-quarter of all registered voters over 18 years of age in the first round (see Zuccarelli 1987, 54). By contrast, all Africans living outside the Communes

3 See Du Bois, Victor David. 1962. The independence movement in Guinea: a study in African nationalism. Princeton University, Ph.D. Dissertation, Political Science, international law and relations University Mcrofilms, Inc. Ann Arbor, Michigan. http://www.webguinee.net/bibliotheque/economie/vdubois/independence-movement-in- guinea/chapter03-reform-french-colonial-system.html

were colonial “subjects,” without any political representation and subject to repressive administrative rules.

The Colonial Administration of French West Africa

The colonial administrative structure of French West Africa is best understood from

Mamdani’s (1996) perspective on the bifurcated nature of the colonial state in Africa—with different modes of rule for “citizens” in the urban regions, and “subjects” in the rural areas. The administration of French West Africa consisted in the implementation of dual system of rules between “French citizens” of the four Communes and “French subjects” outside the Communes.

As the economic and political center from which the colonial power administrated societies under French control across western Africa, the Communes of Senegal constituted an important exception from the colonial oppression experienced in other non-white/settler parts of tropical

Africa. The privileges their inhabitants enjoyed contrasted sharply with the lack of rights of non- originaires.

When the original federation of the French West African colonies was achieved in 1895, there was no strong push for extending the assimilation program outside the Communes of

Senegal (Crowder 1978, 15). Rather, all Africans living outside the Communes were incorporated as French subjects administered through a very centralized federalist administration following a system of direct rule. The federation grouped eight colonies: Senegal, Mauritania,

Soudan, Guinea, Dahomey, Niger, the Ivory Coast, and Upper Volta (Thompson and Adloff

1957, 22-3). Each colony was broken down into districts known as cercles. These were further divided into cantons, each of which in turn consisted of several villages. This centralized administrative system (but with little ability to project power continuously outside the major cities in practice) remained practically unchanged from 1895 to 1946 (see Baudais 2015, 92-93).

The Governor-General, residing in the capital of the French West Africa federation—Saint-Louis

from 1895 until 1902, when the capital was moved to Dakar—oversaw Lieutenant Governors

(lieutenants gouverneurs) of the different colonies and reported directly to the French Parliament via the Minister of the Colonies. The cercle was ruled by a French administrator known as

“Commandant de cercle” (district commander), who administrated the smaller administrative units through a hierarchy of local African chiefs (Conklin 1997, 110). While most of these indigenous chiefs were appointed and could be dismissed at will, they formed a Conseil des notables (Council of Notables) which stood as an advisory board for the district commander (Le

Vine 1968, 376).

In contrast with the originaires of the Communes, colonial subjects experienced harsh conditions of inhumane treatment as colonial governments adopted different labor policies to get around the antislavery and anti-forced-labor campaigns. The development of infrastructures was an absolute prerequisite in the building of colonial economies. Confronted with high labor needs, the colonial power resorted to corvée or forced labor in sectors such as mining, building of roads and railway systems to connect the coast with key interior points, plantation agriculture, and other critical parts of the colonial infrastructure (Crowder 1978, 17). The effectiveness of forced labor was based on the existence of a repressive legal system known as the indigénat. As a regime of various punishments applied to colonial subjects independently from court hearings, it enabled French administrators—particularly Commandants—to impose summary sanctions for any real or perceived challenge to their personal authority and that of the colonial state. In practice from 1887 until the reforms of the post-World War II period, the indigénat regime sustained corvée and enforced the colonial administrative authority, of which local chiefs were part (Newbury 1960). These indigenous chiefs were reduced to functionaries responsible for collecting taxes, requisitioning forced labor, and enforcing “customary law.” Given their status

under the colonial administration, they had a stake in maintaining the colonial status quo.

However, “[t]he spirit of opposition to the French regime had never died” outside the center

(Johnson 1971, 131).

The earlier progress made in the education of the natives of the Communes, however— namely the original assimilation policies designed to transform Africans into Frenchmen through formal education—was eventually to serve as a catalyst for change. More specifically, the fact that the colonial administration maintained the traditional authority of the chiefs while training their sons to become more efficient auxiliaries of the French bureaucracy (technical assistants, foremen, employees, etc.) gradually helped a small group of French-educated elite, the évolués, to emerge as key political actors (Thompson and Adloff 1957, 24). In the years leading up to the

1914 election, the group of French-educated elite in the Communes requested a clarification on their citizenship rights, and voiced demands for more political inclusion. The rise of the Jeunes

Sénégalais (Young Senegalese) as an active political organization in this context of mounting anger against the colonial administration eventually culminated in the 1914 election of Blaise

Diagne who capitalized on the vote of the originaires, including “lower-level colonial employees” (Johnson 1972, 149; Bryant 2015, 138; Genova 2004b: 22-23). The election of

Diagne to the French parliament—as the first full-blooded black African to the French

Parliament—stood as a turning point. It revitalized the growing aspiration for more political rights after a long period when all attempts by Senegalese deputies to push for the extension of citizenship to colonial subjects were mostly ignored by their fellow French legislators.

French Citizenship for Military Service

The outbreak of the First World War and the subsequent need for new sources of manpower to withstand an imminent German offensive offered a golden opportunity for Diagne to conclude, not without difficulty, an agreement with French colleagues in the Chamber of

Deputies (Bruschi 2010, 438). In return for assistance in enlisting African soldiers at the service of France, the French parliament voted a law (known as the “Blaise Diagne Law”) in September

1916. This granted full French citizenship rights for all originaires on the one hand, and any enlisted African on the other (Johnson 1971, Bryant 2015). The appointment of Diagne as the

French Government’s High Commissioner for Recruitment, between January and August 1918, held the promise of providing equal rights for all. By promising African colonial subjects that enrollment in the military would provide the only opportunity for social and political emancipation in the aftermath of war, Diagne raised expectations among military conscripts about future rewards such as French citizenship, exemptions from the indigénat, social pensions, family benefits, and reserved jobs in the administration (Bruschi 2010, 442).

Although some of these promises were in fact kept after the war, there were hints of disillusionment with the post-war reforms. On the one hand, the naturalization of veterans or tirailleurs (namely their right to apply for French citizenship) contributed to reinforcing “the link between military service [of colonial subjects] and citizenship” and putting military conscripts in

“a liminal position between citizen and subject” (Mann 2006, 201). Moreover, the exemption of

African war veterans from the indigénat and the lifting of associated fiscal obligations had been a progressive move that clearly contributed to freeing them from the yoke of customary chiefs.

On the other hand, however, the fact that full citizenship was granted to all originaires but could only be acquired by non-originaires through naturalization—as a reward for serving France in the army—deepened the divide between the citizens of the Communes and the rest of the population in Francophone colonies (Bruschi 2010, 456). In this context of mounting frustration, the attempt by administrators to contain the growing egalitarian aspirations—by giving more

power to traditional chiefs in areas where military service was a means of individual emancipation—gradually radicalized many of the educated subjects and servicemen.

When the Parti socialiste français (PSF) split over the issue of the Russian Revolution, the left wing faction which resigned to form the Parti communiste français (PCF) in 1920 provided an “organizational context” for Africans elites’ discontent (Genova 2004b, 67).

However, even if the PCF took a strong anti-imperialist stance, its leaders did not go so far as to call for a reform of the structure of the empire. As Lustick (1995, 86) notes, “[b]eset by increasingly deep divisions between right and left, Third Republic politicians from all parties embraced a Republican/imperial ethos as an important source of regime legitimacy.” This attachment to empire became even more marked during the 1930s as France faced various crises.

First, the Great Depression raised consciousness in metropolitan France about the importance of colonies in keeping the French economy afloat (Le Branchu 1937, 128). Secondly, following the rise of fascism in the mid-1930s, even those who had previously been most relentlessly opposed to French colonial policies (particularly in the PCF) adjourned, if not abandoned, their stance on the political enfranchisement of racialized subjects (Coquery-Vidrovitch 1999, 156).

In this context—and despite the fact that the alliance of left-wing parties which came to power in 1936 under the Front Populaire (FP) constituted a parliamentary majority—the new coalition government headed by the socialist Léon Blum did not question the existing imperial framework. It visualized colonial reforms and emancipation “through closer integration into a democratic and socialist France, rather than through secession from France” (Chafer and Sackur

1999, 4). In such circumstances, many educated African elites who joined the Front Populaire were confronted with the reality that French politicians—with the exception of a small minority on the radical left—were assimilationist in outlook (Chafer and Sackur 1999, 4). But there were

also lots of paradoxes and divergent agendas among African elites themselves. On the one hand, the évolués of the Four Communes who held political positions in the French system did not challenge the status quo per se. Rather, they largely compromised with the colonizer and supported socialist colonial policies while framing their demands for political reform in an assimilationist language. This political stance did not change after the death of Blaise Diagne in

1934, even though Ngalandou Diouf, who dissociated himself from his predecessor, was elected to the French parliament in 1936 against the Socialist candidate Lamine Guèye (Zuccarrelli

1987, 139). On the other hand, non-originaire African elites who had been criticizing Diagne for having conceded too much to French interests aspired, above all, to gaining French citizenship,

“as this was considered the best guarantee of equality with metropolitan France” (Coquery-

Vidrovitch 1999, 164).

To be sure, the context of the 1930s was generally favorable to the emergence of forces capable of tipping the balance in favor of more progressive political reforms. Indeed, following the promulgation in 1936 of the law on trade union freedoms (which in theory was intended for

French-educated Africans), workers’ unions became an important outlet for political expression in French West Africa (Zuccarrelli 1987, 146; Coquery-Vidrovitch 1999: 162). The demand for more equality gained further momentum when the Negritude movement was born out of the

Paris intellectual environment of the 1930s. It was created by a group of young black students and scholars, primarily from French colonies and territories, who expressed a deep sense of revolt against French assimilation policies. The movement, including key figures like Leopold

Sédar Senghor—a French subject who was to become a prominent political actor in France and then first president of independent Senegal—condemned colonial injustices and advocated the notion of a multicultural France (Wilder 2005; Thiam 2014).

The Popular Front government did not last long enough to implement many of its colonial policies. By 1937 the precarious alliance lost power and dissolved a year later, amidst the persistent effects of the Great Depression and internal dissensions. However, the existence of the Popular Front represented an important turning-point in the history of France’s relations with its colonies. It gave further political momentum to educated African elites, though this took a new twist following the outbreak of World War II. With the French government’s capitulation on

June 22, 1940 and the arrival of the Germans in Paris, the tenets of the Vichy government led to the intensification of repressive features of the indigénat, and eliminated the few existing political rights and labor organizations that had been granted under the Popular Front

(Zuccarrelli 1987). Despite Vichy, however, there were noteworthy straws in the pre-World War

II winds that were to resurface and lead to an irreversible process of political and electoral reforms from 1945 until the decolonization period in the late 1950s.

The Second World War: Redefining the Meaning of Empire

The Empire to the Rescue of the Republic

As the French were organizing opposition to the German occupation, leaders of the Free

France and the Resistance Movement were already beginning to look to the empire to liberate

France—much as they had done during the First World War. The meaning and scope of the relationship between French colonies and metropolitan France thus became a critical issue. The fact that de Gaulle and the Free French movement claimed to embody a still-existing Republic in the French colonies rendered those who went on to sign the armistice with Germany and participate in the collaborationist Vichy government illegitimate (Lustick 1995, 87). To rally the empire to the cause of rescuing the French Republic and reclaim the lost sovereignty of France, de Gaulle promoted the vision whereby France and her territories were a one and indivisible

“organic whole” (Genova 2004a, 66). The adherence of neighboring Afrique équatoriale

française (French Equatorial Africa AEF) to the Free French cause early in 1940 for both political and economic reasons, “had profound repercussions on French West Africa”

(Thompson and Adloff 1957, 30; see also Mann 2006, 19). This period saw the start of a measure of reforms to improve the status of Africans and to redefine the relationship between France and its colonies. On the one hand, Félix Éboué—Governor General of AEF who had joined the leaders of the Free France—acted in 1941 to create a new category of “notable évolués” with extended political and economic privileges, though they were denied the possibility of French nationality (Genova 2004b, 197). These privileges were applied throughout the empire in early

1944. On the other hand, the search for a fitting political formula for the postwar relationship between metropolitan and overseas France began at what came to be known as the Brazzaville

Conference, convened by the Free French leaders in late January 1944.

The Brazzaville Conference and the Era of Representative Institutions

The Brazzaville Conference was a French-Gaullist initiative that might be understood as an extension of the ongoing colonial debate on the relationship between France and its colonies, in which elements of continuity were balanced by genuine efforts to rationalize the political structure of empire. When the leaders of Free France convened the Brazzaville conference in

1944, it was partly in an effort to reaffirm their hold on the colonial empire and to channel, in a proactive manner, the awakening of an African nationalist movement. Further impetuses to the discussion were the need for Free France leaders to respond favorably to pressures from the

United States, which was pushing hard to advance the right of peoples to self-determination as embodied in the Atlantic Charter (Schachter-Morgenthau 1964).

The Brazzaville Conference brought together administrative representatives of the French

Africa colonial territories around General de Gaulle (president of the Comité français de libération nationale—CFLN) and three other leading figures, including Félix Eboué, Henri

Laurentie, and René Pleven. The official French colonial reformers were aware that the reconstruction of metropolitan France and overseas territories into a global political entity lay in something more than repressive policies such as the Indigénat. It required a reform of the structures of the France-African colonial bloc and more political rights for colonial populations.

Clearly, there were controversies between two alternative views over the content and direction of this reform, particularly the overall institutional structure —centralized or federal—that would characterize the new political relations between France and its colonial territories (Thompson and Adloff 1957, 31; Shipway 1999, 143-44).

Despite these controversies, a general consensus emerged over the creation of a political entity that combined the assimilationist-Jacobin ethos and the federalist principle. More specifically, the compromise lay in the absolute necessity to maintain the French colonial empire and regain France’s lost grandeur while introducing reforms likely to guarantee the legitimacy of a hierarchical but inclusive colonial political structure. This partly explains why the Brazzaville recommendations categorically exclude “any idea of autonomy, all possibility of evolution outside the French bloc” and “the potential constitution even remotely of self-government in the colonies” (Lustick 1995, 89). At the same time, however, progressive reforms that would lead to the creation of elected representative institutions in French African colonies were introduced. On the one hand, it was deemed necessary to allow African elected representation in the French

Parliament, and in a far wider manner than in the past. On the other hand, the conference recommended the decentralization of administrative powers and mostly the suppression of consultative bodies that the Third Republic had established and maintained in French Black

Africa. Subsequently, it was proposed that Territorial Assemblies be created in each African

colony, with members who would be elected rather than appointed by Governors (Thompson and

Adloff 1957, 31).

While the promises of the Brazzaville Conference initially offered only vague prospects and proved rather conservative on specific matters such as citizenship rights, forced labor, and the indigénat, they eventually were to provide some of the building blocks for more substantial reforms and laid the foundation for what became known in 1946 as the French Union. The fact that the provisional government (the French Committee of National Liberation—CFLN) established on June 3, 1944, agreed to implement some of the Conference’s proposals— particularly the establishment of electoral institutions for French African colonies—was a quite progressive decision. It marked a crucial but cautious phase of a process that would lead to the choice of the first democratically-elected African leaders to represent the people from the colonies in the French parliament (Schachter-Morgenthau 1964).

The Birth of Electoral Systems in Francophone Africa

One of the postwar electoral reforms that had the greatest impact on the political future of

French African colonies was certainly the French ordinance of August 22, 1945.4 It established two Electoral Colleges—one for “citizens” and another for the vast majority of “subjects”—by which Africans could elect representatives to a Constituent National Assembly in Paris so as to participate in the writing of the Fourth Republic’s constitution. However, this dual Electoral

College system included significant restrictions.

The first restriction is related to voting. The 1945 French ordinance indicated that the representatives of colonies were to be elected through a two-round majority system. However,

4 Journal Officiel de l’AOF, no 2180 du samedi 1er septembre 1945. Ordonnance no 45-1874 du 22 août 1945 fixant le mode de représentation à l'Assemblée nationale constituante des territoires d'outre-mer relevant du ministère des colonies.

there were notable variations within colonial territories. For example, in the old French colonies

(Martinique, Guadeloupe, Reunion, Guyana, Saint Pierre and Miquelon, the French States in

Oceania and those of India), representatives were elected by direct universal suffrage. The territories of New Caledonia and Dependencies, the French Coast of Somalia and the archipelago of the Comoros each had one Electoral College that included both citizens and non-citizens.

However, in the other African territories (AOF and Togo, AEF and Cameroon, Madagascar), the

Ordinance provided for the formation of a dual Electoral College system: one for metropolitan citizens and residents of the Four Communes of Senegal, and the other for non-citizens (namely colonial subjects).5

The second restriction concerned the limited number of seats allotted to delegates from the colonies, and especially from the AOF and the AEF. Indeed, among the 586 seats available for the Constituent Assembly, only 64 were allocated to colonial territories. These 64 seats were distributed as follows: 36 for French citizens of the First Electoral College, 24 for subjects of the

Second College, and finally 4 for a Common electoral college (Schachter-Morgenthau 1964, 44).

Under the distribution key, 10 seats were allocated to AOF, of which five would be elected by the citizens of the Four Communes and five by subjects. Representatives of the AEF and

Cameroon had six seats: three for each Electoral College. Moreover, the right to vote for voters of the second college was limited. Only a limited number of social categories could be part of this second college. This included a dozen categories that collectively accounted for fewer than

120,000 voters out of 18 million inhabitants of AOF-Togo (Bénot 1989, 40-41).6

5 Journal Officiel de l’AOF, no 2180 du samedi 1er septembre 1945, Op. Cit.

6 These include the «notables évolués », individuals awarded War Decorations, civil servants, graduates from the French school, religious ministers, former army officers, war veterans in general, merchants, current and former member of the Bureau of cooperative organizations and workers unions, current and former members of local assemblies, leaders or representatives of traditional communities.

The 1945 reform allowed the colonial territories to be represented in the Constituent

Assembly, not in proportion to the population but seemingly enough to grant some legitimacy to the new institution responsible for drafting a new Constitution for France and its possessions

(Burbank and Cooper 2008). Nevertheless, despite the aberrant character of this first electoral system—in reference to the French democratic tradition—it did enable educated African elites or

évolués to take the lead and echo local claims in the French National Assembly. Following the

21 October 1945 legislative elections, several deputies were elected to represent Francophone

West Africa to the French Constituent Assemblies of 1945-6. Among them, a number of future leaders of French West Africa—such as Leopold Senghor and Lamine Guèye of Senegal, Fily

Dabo Sissoko of Soudan (now Mali), Yacine Diallo of Guinea, and Felix Houphouët-Boigny of the Ivory Coast—quickly captured the attention of the French metropolitan public for their political skills. In a relatively short period of time, they were able to win over their colleagues into making liberal institutional reforms (Schachter-Morgenthau 1964, Thompson and Adloff

1957, 33).

From Empire to Union: French Post-war Institutional Reforms

When the delegates from France and the overseas territories first assembled in Paris in

October 1945, they were determined to draft a new constitution that would provide France with new institutions and redefine structural links between overseas territories and metropolitan

France. This goal was eventually achieved, but only after a year of intense political debate—a first failure to approve a draft constitution in a referendum, the election of a new Constituent

Assembly, and the drafting of a second constitution. The process turned out to be quite challenging, partly because of the shifting power relationship between political forces represented in the two successive Constituent Assemblies. The first Assembly of 1945 had an absolute majority formed by three main political parties that drew their force from the Resistance

Movement.7 Former colonies (now overseas territories) had 64 delegates out of 586 elected deputies. African delegates, the majority of whom were elected under the label of a metropolitan party, had limited representation in the parliament. There were only 17 elected African officials, including 8 from the Second College. A number of them joined the SFIO, which was the only well-organized party in francophone Africa (particularly in Senegal), while others linked with the French Communist Party, well-known for its supposedly anti-colonial stance (Bénot 1989,

92).

Given their limited representation, African deputies had to compensate for their numerical inferiority by building strategic alliances with other deputies (particularly delegates from the former colonies of Guyana, Reunion, and Algeria) in order to influence parliamentary debates on issues that had not previously been debated seriously. While there were variations in their respective political agendas, at least with regard to institutional reforms, these differences did not prevent them from reaching common ground on core demands such as forced labor, indigénat, and the extension of citizenship (Bénot 1989, 44-5).

The Drafting of the 1946 Constitution or the Politics of a Legislative Drama

Partisan divides between French political parties influenced the process of constitutional design in the Constituent Assembly—something of which African deputies quickly became keenly aware. While most metropolitan parties agree on the need to reform existing institutions, fundamental disagreements surfaced over the constitutional provision on the relationship

7 The PCF, the first political force, won 26.2% of votes. The Socialist Party, which was the French Section of the Workers’ International (SFIO), gained 25.1% with its allies UDSR. The Mouvement Républicain Populaire (Popular Republican Movement—MRP), Christian Democratic in inspiration, benefited from de Gaulle's followers obtained 23.9%. These three main parties formed, not without difficulties, a united coalition called “Tripartism” with General Charles de Gaulle as head of government.

between the executive and the legislative.8 When de Gaulle resigned unexpectedly in January

1946 in reaction to the deliberations of the Constituent Assembly, a government dominated by left-wing parties was formed. The new government fostered progressive reforms in Francophone

Africa as Lamine Guèye, a deputy from Senegal, was appointed head of the Commission for

Overseas Territories to replace his fellow Socialist, Marius Moutet, who became Minister of

Overseas France (formerly the Minister of Colonies). Unlike previous reform processes from which the colonized were largely excluded, a significant number of West African delegates took part in the post-war debates, both in the Constituent Assembly and on its various committees, and some of them even sponsored bills (Cooper 2014, 68-69; Genova 2004a, 58).

It is worth noting that the main concern of the West African deputies in the Assembly was not independence from France, or even self-government. They aspired, rather, to gain the expansion of citizenship, which they considered to be the best guarantee for equal rights between

Africans and metropolitan French citizens: the right to associate, the right to hold public meetings, and the freedom of the press (Crowder 1978, 227). Many, if not all, of these rights were eventually acquired during the first Constituent Assembly thanks to support from the then- powerful French Communist Party and pressure from West African students in Paris and trade unionists in Africa (Cooper 2005, 215; Thompson and Adloff 1957, 33-4).9

Perhaps the most revolutionary breakthrough was a law on May 7, 1946 initiated by

Lamine Guèye, which sought to settle the extension of citizenship for the colonized people. The

8 General de Gaulle wanted a bicameral system with a strong executive power, while the PCF and the SFIO were more supportive of a parliamentary system in which the legislative branch maintains ultimate control over the executive.

9 These reforms included the elimination of the forced-labor regime (law of February 11, 1946), the proclamation of the freedom of meeting and association for the Overseas Territories (decrees of March 13 and April 11), the abolition of the indigénat (decree of February 20), the extension of the French citizenship to all the inhabitants of Overseas territories (law of May 7), and the abolition of African indigenous jurisdiction over penal cases (decree of April 30).

“Lamine Guèye Law” provided that “all nationals of the overseas territories (including Algeria) have the status of citizen, as well as national French of the metropolis and overseas territories” regardless of their civil status.10 However, the law was unclear, and left a broad margin of interpretation as to the political entity of which these people were citizens (the French Republic or the French Union). It also remained silent on whether overseas people should enjoy the entirety of the rights attached to the “quality” of French citizens. The law vaguely specified that

“specific laws will establish the conditions under which [nationals of overseas territories] will exercise their rights as citizens.”11 This perceived ambiguity in the Lamine Guèye Law generated a tension between Socialists, Communists, and most overseas delegates on the left who voted for the draft constitution in the Constituent Assembly, and the MRP and others on the right who voted against it.

In the emergent Cold War tensions marked by partisan rivalry in French politics, the importance of the complex problems that the overseas parliamentarians put forward contrasted with floating political alliances that affected, to some extent, the pace of reforms. The consequent rejection of the draft Constitution on April 19, 1946 in a referendum in which only naturalized French citizens were allowed to cast ballots led to the dissolution of the first

Constituent Assembly, and the election of a new Constituent Assembly in June 1946. In the process the previous power relationships changed, and French politics shifted to the right. This change of power relations in the Parliament was to work against reforms in overseas territories

(Genova 2004a, 69; Cooper 2014).

10 Loi n° 46-940 du 7 mai 1946 tendant à proclamer citoyens tous les ressortissants des territoires d'outre-mer.

11 Ibid.

In August 1946, supporters of the new majority in the Second Constituent Assembly— namely the economically powerful French commercial companies—mobilized to mount a campaign in favor of the colonial status quo (Thompson and Adloff 1957, 34; Liauzu 2007;

Genova 2004a, 58).12 These groups convened the États généraux de la colonisation française

(Estates General of French Colonization) to question the deliberations of the first Constituent

Assembly on the issue of the generalization (expansion) of citizenship across the Empire, and to warn the government against proposed reforms of overseas territories. In the face of mounting pressure, even a progressive French mind like Moutet, who expressed empathy for colonized peoples, was forced to dissociate citizenship from nationality (Genova 2004a, 71-72). An influential member of the second Constituent Assembly, Edouard Herriot, warned that—in light of the demographic weight of the subjects of the French Union—the generalization of citizenship might turn France into a “colony of its former colonies.” Leopold S. Senghor, an elected

Senegalese deputy from the second College, hastened to reply: “This is racism!”13

African delegates feared that the new version of the draft constitution lacked the necessary clarity on the articulation of citizenship and nationality (namely whether overseas people had the rights of French citizens or were French citizens). They thus joined forces with the Caribbean parliamentarians to briefly boycott the second Assembly in order to defend the principle of the generalization of citizenship that they believed had been acquired during the first

Constituent Assembly in April 1946. At the same time as debates over the constitution were taking place in Paris, African trade unionists—especially in Dakar and Bamako—who gave a specific meaning to citizenship and its associated rights, staked their first claims on 30 August

12 The Comité de l’Empire français (Committee of the French Empire), legally recognized in 1941 under the Vichy regime, was financed mainly by large French commercial companies in Black Africa and Indochina. It was the most powerful colonial lobby under the Fourth Republic and continued to act in the early years of the Fifth Republic.

13 Assemblée Nationale Constituante, Débats, 27 août 1946, p. 3334.

1946 and began to wage a struggle over labor issues in Africa. This culminated later into a general strike during which African workers demanded “equal pay for equal work and output”

(Cooper 2005: 207-208). Although this vast mobilization led by the Union des Syndicats

Confédérés under the leadership of Lamine Diallo was widely supported by the general population, it did not result in a tangible connection between the social forces and the political class in Paris (see Gueye 2011). Subsequently, and despite African efforts to revise it so as to secure citizenship and equality for all in public life, the constitution of the Fourth Republic as drafted by the Second Constituent Assembly was approved in the referendum of 5 May 1946 and adopted in October 1946.

Institutions for a Union of Unequal Citizens

The constitution of the French Fourth Republic was less liberal in content than the first draft, but it was certainly the most progressive document in French colonial history, moving further along the path of satisfying the demands of the overseas peoples of the Empire.

Institutionally, the new constitution reorganized the old French Empire into a new political entity: the French Union. The Union was divided into four entities—the Associated States, the

Associated Territories, the Départements d'outre-mer (Overseas Departments—DOM), and the

Territoires d'outre-mer (Overseas Territories—TOM). Of these, only the two latter groups (often referred to collectively as DOM/TOM), in conjunction with metropolitan France, formed the

French Republic, one and indivisible. The Overseas Territories, of which French West Africa was part, were placed under the Ministry of Overseas France. The central organs of the French

Union were the President of the French Union (who was also the President of the French

Republic), the High Council (composed of representatives from all the member states of the

Union), and the Assembly of the French Union (composed of an equal number of members

representing metropolitan France and of members representing the DOM/TOM) (Thompson and

Adloff 1957).

As to the electoral system, the Constitution granted the status of citizenship to all nationals in the Overseas Territories equally as French nationals of the metropole. Although the distinction between citizens and subject had thus broken down, the constitutional provision left unsettled the controversy that the Lamine Guèye Law had provoked. Indeed, the dual Electoral

College system was retained and the franchise was extended only to a limited number of citizens within the French Union. Moreover, the Constitution distinguished three types of citizens. The first category included French nationals who could vote for the first college. They encompassed

Africans who already had citizenship under the 1916 Blaise Diagne law. The second category was relative to new citizens of the French Union to whom the 1946 Lamine Guèye Law had granted the French citizenship. The third category concerned nationals of former protectorates— now Associated States, such as Morocco and Tunisia—who became citizens of the French Union without the vote (Cooper 2014, 81-82; Crowder 1978, 292).

Obviously, African delegates had initially expected something less than a tiered system of citizenship in which some members of the French Union were “more equal” than others. The establishment of the new structure of the Union, and particularly a Federal Assembly with no legislative power, meant that future demands for political reform concerning overseas territories would require constitutional amendment, and that the only place where these revisions could be undertaken was in the French National Assembly in Paris (Crowder 1978, 292; Thompson and

Adloff 1957, 44). Indeed, Article 72 of the constitution granted the Assembly of the Union a consultative status while assigning to the French Parliament the competence to legislate on penal law, civil liberties, and political and administrative organization in the overseas territories.

In this context, the pressing challenge for the African deputies was to organize themselves for the elections to the French Parliament. After the final debate on the new French constitution, African representatives in the French National Assembly in Paris, unhappy with provisions of the constitution of 1946 regarding the overseas territories, decided to join forces to create a bloc of assembly votes. In October 1946 the African delegates held a conference in

Bamako (today the capital of Mali) and created a new African-based party—the Rassemblement

Démocratique Africain (African Democratic Rally–RDA)—under the leadership of Félix

Houphouet-Boigny. This act inaugurated an era marked by the proliferation of parties in French

West Africa, and put party politics and alliances at the heart of later overseas electoral reforms under the French Union.

Electoral Reforms under the French Union

If the inexperience of African parliamentarians and the lack of indigenous political organizations significantly constrained them in the beginning and pushed them to seek affiliation with existing Metropolitan parties, such dependency changed after the final debate on the new

French constitution in 1946. The steady decline of the liberal ideal in France stimulated a boom in the creation of political parties in French West Africa. Most of these new parties were ethnic or territorially-based organizations. Others, like Fédération Socialiste SFIO du Sénégal led by

Lamine Guèye, were branches of Metropolitan parties. There were, however, two African-based parties—the RDA created in 1946 and the Indépendants d'Outre-Mer (IOM) created in 1948— whose appeal and organizational structure extended beyond AOF (Thompson and Adloff 1957,

51).

Despite these developments, carrying out reforms in French West Africa proved difficult for two reasons. The first reason is that African assemblymen faced the challenge of pooling their strengths and making their collective influence felt in the French Parliament. Lurking in the

background of this weakness was the continued loyalty of the African socialists to the SFIO in

France, but also the shifting alliances in French politics as well as splits and mergers among

African political parties. The second reason is related to the insignificance of the amount of time devoted to the discussion of matters regarding overseas territories, compounded by the low attendance of French elected officials at the parliamentarian sessions devoted to such matters. As

Thompson and Adloff put it nicely at the time:

Most of the big Metropolitan parties leave policy on overseas matters to their committee of experts, and when such matters are debated, few of their top-flight leaders are present. Indeed, it is hard for the handful of overseas deputies even to succeed in having the questions that concern them placed on the Assembly’s agenda. Their main strength lies in the Overseas Committee of the National Assembly, frequently chaired by a French West African deputy, which has been responsible for much of the legislative success thus far scored. When the government is co-operative, this committee can often dispose of overseas matters in a few hours’ debate. (1957, 47)

Under such constraints, the politics of electoral reform in West Africa under the French

Union took place primarily outside the parliamentarian circles and involved a social struggle carried out by labor organizations through a series of large-scale strikes, with support from political leaders, both seeking to translate social citizenship into practice. In other words, the

African labor movement and African delegates used the French-centered model of citizenship to frame their demand for equality of wages and benefits. Since “[t]he French government could not face the burden of an empire of citizens” (Cooper 2005, 228), in a context of heightened internal and external pressures, the colonial administration was eventually compelled to grant universal suffrage and establish a single Electoral College for overseas people, as part a process of devolution of power away from the National Assembly in Paris toward individual colonial territories.

Unions, Party Politics, and Alliances for Electoral Reform

Because party politics in West Africa had been very divisive throughout the period of the

French Union, the prospect of electoral reform was very low until the mid-1950s. Although

French West Africa’s representatives were able to secure a number of seats, the legislative elections in France in November 1946 demonstrated that they were too few, too poorly organized, and too dispersed among Metropolitan parties for coordinated reform (Thompson and

Adloff 1957, 72). For instance, the RDA deputies allied with the French Communist Party. A number of African MPs aligned themselves with the SFIO, whereas others favored the Gaullist

Rassemblement du Peuple Francais (Rally of the French People—RPF), though this party was less concerned with fostering reform agendas in the overseas territories than in strengthening its own ranks in French politics. As the dominant party in French West Africa, the RDA could count on the 183 votes of its communist allies to foster reforms in AOF. However, the intense partisan rivalries specific to metropolitan politics weighed on the course of events in colonial territories and triggered a reconfiguration of the political landscape.

In the context of the emerging Cold War, the growing social tensions in France over policy options in earlier 1947 put the government coalition under heavy internal and external pressure. The refusal by the Communist to approve war credits for Indochina, where the Viet-

Minh had initiated an uprising, and their opposition to vote wage policies to avoid inflation following a series of strikes orchestrated by the Confédération générale du travail (General

Confederation of Labor—CGT) compelled Premier Paul Ramadier to dismiss Communist ministers from the ruling coalition on May 1947 (Giles 1994). The decreasing power of the PCF forced its African RDA ally into the ranks of the opposition, and triggered divisions within the membership of the party. The political strength of Houphouët-Boigny was further reduced when the French administration divided the Upper Volta from the Ivory Coast which until then had

formed a single constituency (Crowder and Cruise O'Brien 1973: 676). RDA delegates at the

National Assembly who felt uneasy about the coalition with the Communist party went on to create a rival regional party in September 1948—the Indépendants d'Outre-Mer (IOM). At the same time that the IOM was increasing in strength, the Socialist party in Senegal saw a split between Guèye and Senghor, with the later creating a new party, the Bloc Démocratique

Sénégalais (Senegalese Democratic Bloc—BDS) and aligning himself with the IOM group. The violent suppression of the RDA in the colony in 1949 and the defection of delegates to the IOM resulted in the RDA breaking with the Communist party and, in December 1950, joining the small Union démocratique et socialiste de la Résistance (Democratic and Socialist Union of the

Resistance—UDSR) (Thompson and Adloff 1957, 51).

Although these divisions became an obstacle to the path of further institutional reforms, the unwillingness of officials in France to enforce the letter of the constitution of the French

Union—in particular the promise inherent in the concept of absolute equality based on universal suffrage—was to provide a powerful impetus towards the birth and development of an anti- colonial movement. This official stance opened the door to a discursive space and growing agitation of colonial subjects, who intensified their demand for equal rights in the early 1950s

(Genova 2004a, 77-78). This coincided with the declining audience of the SFIO, especially after the breakthrough of the Gaullist RPF in the 1947 municipal elections. Leaders of the new coalition in power (MRP, SFIO, RGR , and others) feared losing the majority in the National

Assembly if either of the two opposition parties (the communist PCF or the Gaullist RPF) managed to obtain a sufficient number of seats—since neither was willing to support government policy, let alone participate. To curb the rise and influence of the opposition, and to temper overseas demands for equal citizenship throughout the French Union, the electoral system was

thus changed by the ruling coalition known as the Troisième Force, only a few weeks before the

1951 elections took place (Thompson and Adloff 1957, 46; Genova 2004a, 76).14 In AOF, the change involved the expansion of the suffrage.

The Expansion of the Franchise in the Territories of the Union

Two weeks after the National Assembly passed the “law of Apparentements” (coalitions) for legislative elections in metropolitan France, another law was approved—the law of May 23,

1951—which greatly expanded the franchise for the National Assembly in overseas territories.15

The immediate and notable effect was a three-fold increase in the number of registered voters in

French West Africa which rose from 930,000 to over 3,000,000.16 However, the great majority of new voters in French West Africa were registered as electors for the second college.

Moreover, West Africa was still allotted only 20 representatives among the total of 625 delegates in the National Assembly in Paris (Thompson and Adloff 1957, 46). The expansion of the franchise, then, did not increase the total representation of Africans in the National Assembly, but only broadened the electorate who were allowed to choose the

African deputies.

Despite these limitations, the expansion of the franchise and the subsequent increase in electoral mobilization across the territories pushed political rhetoric toward the issue of equality,

14 The Troisième Force (Third Force) coalition brought together the SFIO, UDSR, the Radicals, the MRP, and other centrist politicians, opposed both to the PCF and the Gaullist movement.

15 On May 7, 1951, Henri Queuille (then Interior Minister) passed the electoral law called “law of apparentements”. This law, while maintaining the principle of proportional representation in effect in France, gave the opportunity for two separate lists who claim to be related to compete separately at the poll, while adding the number of votes they have obtained for the allocation of seats. Thus, if between them they managed to win an absolute majority of votes, they receive all seats in a constituency. See Albertini, Pierre. 1974. Le droit de dissolution et les systèmes constitutionnels français ; Pauvert, Bertrand. 2004. Droit constitutionnel: théorie générale, Ve République.

16 Statistics derived from table in L'évolution récente des institutions politiques des territoires d'Outre-Mer et Territoires Associés, Ministère de la France-Outre-Mer, 11 mars 1954, p. 19. Cited in Thompson and Adloff (1957, 59).

and later on fed demands for national autonomy. In the 1951 legislative elections, Guèye lost his seat in the National Assembly to Senghor, and the RDA experienced a significant loss throughout Africa (Genova 2004a, 76). The IOM, on the other hand gained more seats and emerged as the largest political party in French Black Africa. Although conflicts of leadership prevented any merger between leaders of the RDA, the SFIO, and the IOM, greater unity was achieved between them and the West African labor movement in pushing measures of general

African interest through the Parliament, such as the Overseas Labor Code of December 15, 1952

(Gueye 2011). The passage of the Labor Code reinvigorated the RDA, which continued its efforts to build national branches of the party throughout Africa and attract working-class support until 1955. Subsequently, it did not take long for the leadership of the labor movement to move beyond labor issues and into electoral politics. This was most dramatically exemplified by the rise of the union leader Ahmed Sékou Touré in Guinea to political prominence as the head of the Parti Démocratique de Guinée (Democratic Party of Guinea—PDG) (Du Bois 1962;

Schachter-Morgenthau 1964).

When the labor movement started to frame grievances in the language of equality, and began fighting for policies such as family allowances for all private-sector wage workers after the labor code of 1952 had granted African public employees equal benefits (Cooper 2005, 227), the Assembly of the French Union found itself obliged to pass a resolution to clarify the meaning of citizenship at the end of 1953. By declaring the existence of two citizenships (one for France and the other for the Union), the Assembly made clear that “Citizens of France were also citizens of the Union, while citizens of the Union were not citizens of France” (Genova 2004a, 76).

In this period, while unionists and their African political allies were pushing for the generalization of social privileges associated with the expansion of the citizenship, governments

in France rose and fell with astonishing frequency. The political climate became more conservative, while parliamentary processes fragmented by ideological rivalries. Most of the reforms affecting overseas territories were overshadowed by new and more pressing national and international matters. As the situation in Algeria worsened in 1954, and the potential for contestation hanging over other colonies, it became clear that something had to be done quickly if France were not to be faced with other claims for self-determination in Black Africa (see

Pervillé 2007).

Although personal rivalries between African political leaders intensified, efforts were nevertheless made by each of the three major political groups to achieve unity following the

National Assembly elections of January 1956 (Thompson and Adloff 1957, 52). The same year, union movements demanded that the overseas public sector’s system of family allowances be generalized to the private sector. The fact that the associated demands were put forward by both farmers and students pushed French officials who feared a spiraling upwards of demands in the name of the equality of citizens to actually welcome calls for national autonomy, in the hopes that this would undercut demands for equality. The result of the politics of this turbulent period was the adoption of a new legal framework by the French National Assembly, the Loi-cadre of

June 23, 1956, by a vote of 470 to 105 (Du Bois 1962). This law authorized the French government to implement a series of unprecedented legal reforms that would lead to limited self- government in the overseas territories.

The Loi-cadre of 1956 and the Establishment of a Single Electoral College

As far as institutional reforms were concerned the Loi-cadre of 1956 was far more sweeping than the 1946 Constitution. Its key electoral reforms provisions (universal suffrage and the single Electoral College) went far to appease critics in the overseas territories and in France who had been disturbed by the failure of France to live up to the liberal principles embodied in

the Constitution of 1946. Under the new provisions, men and women twenty-one years of age and over, properly registered and not disqualified, and without regard to their personal status, were hereafter to vote in a single college for their representatives in the National Assembly and in other representative institutions.

Moreover, the Loi-cadre significantly reformed the relationship between France and the colonies and granted expanded power to Territorial Assemblies in each colony. This also meant a devolution of power, away from the National Assembly in Paris and toward individual colonial territories. Since each territorial assembly would be elected under universal suffrage and could now choose a Council of Government to assume the major executive functions for the colony, including the formulation of its own domestic policies, “political leaders who depended on the vote of taxpayers would decide whether to answer demands for higher wages for government workers, for more state schools, for more health clinics, for more paved roads” (Cooper 205,

227). The door was thus opened to independent government in each colony of the respective

West and Central African territories.

Conclusion

In this chapter, I have tried to trace the origins and evolution of electoral systems in

French West Africa, and emphasized two major electoral reforms. The first was the creation of the dual Electoral College system in 1945—one for “citizens” and another for “subjects”—by which colonial Africans could elect delegates to the French Constituent Assembly. The second was the shift to a single Electoral College in 1956 as part of reforms that would then lead to limited self-government in the overseas territories. I have also tried to demonstrate that these reforms were embedded in a broader discussion on the relationship between France and its colonies and, ultimately, on the right of colonial people to French citizenship and nationality— not to independence. Underlying this discussion was the long-lasting frustration over the legacy

of inequality between “citizens of the French nation” and “subjects of the French empire” and

African claims for more rights.

These demands became the driver of the initial debates that opposed the French colonial administrators who wanted to maintain the status quo and the tiny African elite (known as the

évolués) who were fighting for the expansion of the French citizenship and nationality to

Africans on the eve of the First World War. The tensions arising from these contrasting visions of the future reached their peak after the Second World War, during the discussions preceding the drafting of the Constitution of the French Fourth Republic in 1946, with the participation of

Africans elected to the French parliament. The final wave of these demands in 1956 led to the adoption of the Loi-cadre (or Framework Law) which significantly reformed the electoral system, granted universal suffrage to Africans, and directed the devolution of power away from the National Assembly in Paris and toward individual colonial territories.

I have not attempted in this discussion to attempt to distinguish whether each of these reforms reflected political demands put forward by French politicians or by African French- speaking elites. Both such demands and external events over which these actors had no control— such as the First and the Second World Wars, or the shifting alliance patterns in French metropolitan politics—must be understood as triggers for these electoral reforms. What is most relevant for my purposes is that the fact that the direction of electoral reforms in colonial French

West Africa was generally the result of tensions, negotiations, and alliances between actors who had a stake in either maintaining or changing the status quo, or who had alternative views of a particular reform during pivotal historical moments. Clearly, the dual Electoral College system in

1945 was introduced as a reward to colonial people for aligning themselves with Free France leaders during the Second World War, as well as a response to the growing nationalist sentiment.

Until 1945, the claim for equal status and rights had met with the apparent refusal of France to accept Africans as equals and their inclination to maintain the institutions of the French empire.

Indeed, despite the political and ideological cleavages that characterized the French political system, the attachment of French politicians to the empire had not changed significantly and the two-tiered citizenship remained intact. This attitude eventually shifted after the Second World

War, especially as the French Empire gave way to the French Union.

Although the distinction between citizens and subject had thus broken down, the constitutional provisions left unsettled the controversy that the 1946 Lamine Guèye Law had provoked. Indeed, the dual Electoral College system was retained while the franchise was extended only to a limited number of citizens within the French Union. Although Africans were granted limited representation in the French Parliament after 1945, their chances of achieving their political objectives in Africa hinged largely on the capacity to form an alliance with one of the rival metropolitan parties in the French parliament. However, the establishment of a single

Electoral College in 1956 was primarily the result of pressure outside the parliamentarian circles, and carried out by labor organizations through a series of large-scale strikes with the support from political leaders, both seeking to translate social citizenship into practice. It appears that while workers’ mobilization and strikes were frequently ineffective prior to 1945, they were much more effective when they were tied to political organizations and social change after

WWII. This is the result of the political movement being able to capitalize on an already mobilized and organized segment of society at a time when colonial powers were more broadly in retreat.

As we shall see, these earlier institutional reforms were crucially important in setting the parameters for subsequent political developments and the evolution of electoral systems in

Senegal, Niger and Mali. The following chapters undertaken a comparative approach to shed light on why and how former French West African colonies have ended up today with different electoral systems for parliamentary elections, despite the similarities in their origins and the fact that they all inherited a majoritarian system in the final years of colonialism.

CHAPTER 4 DIVERGENT POLITICAL TRAJECTORIES OF QUITE SIMILAR COUNTRIES

Introduction

As we have seen in the previous chapter, Senegal, Niger and Mali had parallel colonial histories prior to gaining independence in 1960. Their political trajectories started to diverge after the 1958 referendum which was to be the prelude to the independence of West African colonies from France. When in the late 1950s the troubles which threatened to become a civil war in Algeria provoked a political crisis in France, General Charles de Gaulle who had resigned unexpectedly in January 1946 in reaction to the deliberations of the first Constituent Assembly was recalled to power. He proposed a new constitution for what became the French Fifth

Republic, and a referendum was held across the French Union on September 28, 1958. The colonial member states of the French Union were now asked to decide whether to continue as part of what was renamed the “French Community.” A vote for “no” would result in immediate independence. Hotly debated across West Africa, in the end Guinea under the leadership of

Sékou Touré was the only territory to vote for independence.

While it signaled continued association with France, the victory of the “Yes” in Senegal,

Mali, and Niger nevertheless opened up new prospects for political transformation in these countries. It also inaugurated a new era of elite politics which, in combination with domestic structural factors, shaped the political trajectory of each country. In Niger, for instance, Diori

Hamani—the leader of the Parti progressiste Nigérien (PPN), who supported the association with France—gained political prominence over his rival, Djibo Bakary and his Mouvement socialiste Africain (MSA/Sawaba), who advocated a “No” vote. Following the 1958 referendum in Senegal, Léopold Sédar Senghor emerged as the dominant figure in the political system after a number of rival political parties merged with his Union progressiste sénégalaise (UPS). The only

parties that remained in opposition were the Parti Africain de l’idependance (PAI) created by

Majhmout Diop in 1957 and the PRA-Sénégal, founded in 1958 by a group of leftists who were unified in their campaign for immediate independence from France. In French Soudan Modibo

Keita adopted a decidedly federalist position and called for a "Yes” vote, before accepting a union with Senegal the following year, bringing the two countries together under the name of the

Mali Federation. When the Federation quickly broke apart amidst disagreements, Senegal and

French Soudan (renamed the Republic of Mali) each proclaimed their separate independence in

1960.

Despite their very similar colonial background, Senegal, Mali, and Niger each experienced different political fortunes following their independence in 1960. Although they each experienced some variant of authoritarian rule until the late 1980s, and then each launched on efforts to build democratic institutions starting in the early 1990s, today they are characterized by significant variation in their institutional structures, including the broader electoral framework. In many respect, these institutional variations and current political difficulties are the result of ill-conceived institutional reforms during pivotal historical moments as well as in times of normal politics. This chapter traces the post-independence political trajectories of Senegal,

Mali, and Niger. It examines the reasons why Senegal has remained on the path to democratization and was able to build relatively strong institutions over time, while Mali fell apart in 2012 after a military coup after two decades of democratic experimentation, although the period since has seen continued efforts to rebuild functional institutions. Following its transition in 1991-92, Niger has repeatedly fallen back into military rule (in 1996, 1999, and 2010).

However, each episode of military coup has been followed by a return to elected government in a

100

context of renewed discussions about institutional reforms that might strengthen democratic institutions.

Senegal: Incremental Political Reforms under the Blessing of Sufi Leaders

Senegal has long been regarded as a “remarkable success story” in West Africa (Cruise

O’Brien 1978, 173). The country has shifted from a single party regime (1960-1974) to a limited multiparty system (1974-1981) over a decade earlier than many other African countries, and has become respectively a dominant party system (1981-2000) and a multi-party system (2000- present). This defining characteristic can be attributed to a combination of three core factors that allowed Senegal to undergo what Fatton (1987) refers to as a “passive revolution.” The first factor is associated with the existence of mechanism for legitimization of the state by the Muslim

Sufi orders. The history of the Senegalese political system, since the colonial period, is characterized by a strategic alliance at the top between political and religious elites (Villalón

1995). Sufi orders, which constitute the trademark of Islam in Senegal, have consistently played a major role in supporting the administrative system and maintaining the rule of secular political elites. This alliance has been recycled in many different ways by various political regimes since

1960. The second factor to note as a core characteristic of Senegalese exceptionalism has been the political neutrality of the military. Since independence, Senegalese authorities have managed to maintain the supremacy of civilian authority over the military. Subsequently, the military has a long and strong tradition of political impartiality. Indeed, military officials played an important role in the democratization process in the 1990 as decisive administrators of electoral management bodies. The third and last factor is a long process of incremental institutional reform undertaken by various regimes in response to the periodic political and social crises that they faced, and the confidence of political actors in the capacity of the existing democratic institutions to mediate political tensions.

101

Senghor between Authoritarianism and Liberal Political Reforms

Senegal’s first constitutional change took place very shortly after obtaining full independence from France, following the breakup of the short-lived Federation of Mali. On 25

August 1960 the National Assembly, which had been elected in March 1959 and composed exclusively of members of Senghor’s Union Progressiste Sénégalaise (UPS), the dominant political party, voted to amend the constitution. The new constitutional provision maintained a parliamentary regime but established a two-headed executive shared between the President of the

Republic, Léopold Senghor, and the Prime Minister, Mamadou Dia (Schumacher 1975, 62). In

December 1962, this institutional arrangement was to lead to a conflict of power which culminated in the arrest of Mamadou Dia, who was accused of an attempted constitutional coup against President Senghor (Gerti 1985: 228, Nelson 1974: 36).

Unlike in Niger and Mali, where the first major post-independence crisis involved the military, the army in Senegal was kept outside the political game. Shortly after independence,

Senghor and the country’s defense Chief of Staff, General Jean Alfred Diallo, worked out a deal whereby they assigned development missions to the military under the unequivocal leadership of the civilian authorities (Niang 2012). This earlier institutionalization of the “Senegalese military’s apolitical norms” became the foundation of civil-military relation and explained why

“General Diallo kept the military from intervening in the power struggle between President

Senghor and Prime Minister Mamadou Dia” during the1962 political crisis (Fowler 2010, 218).

The institutional structure of the new republic was called into question by the crisis and, in April 1963, a new constitution was approved by referendum. The key amendment included the elimination of the parliamentary system, the abolition of the post of Prime minister and the establishment of a presidential system that granted Senghor full executive powers (Cruise

O’Brien 2002). Although the Constitution allowed a multi-party system, there was in fact no

102

legal opposition until 1974. In 1963, in the first elections under the new constitution, Senghor and his UPS ran unopposed in presidential and legislative elections. By the middle of the decade,

Senghor had succeeded in coopting and otherwise absorbing all his rivals into the UPS, and

Senegal became a de facto single-party regime (Gellar 2005, 45).

Although Senghor was a Catholic, he skillfully managed to rule a Muslim majority country by taking advantage of the already existing strategic alliance at the top between state elites and Sufi leaders (locally known as marabouts). Sufi leaders have contributed to the stability of the Senegalese political system by serving as intermediaries between the rural populations and the state since the colonial period (Copans 1980, Villalón 2009, 44), transforming themselves into local brokers of the ruling party during the post-colonial period.

Until the mid-1960s, the Senghor regime could still benefit from the State-marabout relations, using its socialist agriculture plan as an instrument for patronage (Diop and Diouf 2002, 43).

However, the rapid deterioration of the living conditions of the peasants and the urban population in the early years of independence provoked a general disenchanted of large sections of the Senegalese population.

In May 1968, students and workers revolted against what they characterized as the increasingly authoritarian character of the regime which was, in their eyes, an agent of French neo-colonialism (Fatton 1987, 61). The escalation of social unrest in Senegal was one link in the chain of mobilization of youth movements which irrupted simultaneously in France and across the world. While the event of May 1968 represented a challenge to the political order established after the Second World War, it affected different countries in a very variable ways. In Dakar, the crisis pitted Senghor’s regime against trade union forces that blended political and corporate demands. A general strike on May 31 turned into classes which were put down by the security

103

forces with a great deal of violence (Bathily 1992). Senghor, who maintained the backing of the army and the marabouts, employed a strategy of carrot and stick to divide the emerging alliance between students and workers. In the process, the events of May 1968 were to open the door to a process of political liberalization. In the early 1970s, then Senghor opted for a series of reforms in concession to the pressure from the opposition, rather than attempting oppression of his opponents, as was the case in many other African countries at the time (Beck 1997, 11).

In 1974, the ruling regime introduced a limited multiparty system and permitted the registration of a new political party, the Parti démocratique sénégalais (PDS), led by Senghor’s long-time critic, Abdoulaye Wade. Two years later, in 1976, a constitutional amendment was passed to authorize three political parties reflecting three officially designated ideologies (Beck

2008, 57; Fall): Senghor kept the “democratic socialist” option for his own Parti Socialiste

(Socialist Party—PS), formerly known as the UPS; the PDS, led by Abdoulaye Wade represented the “liberal democratic” alternative; and the Parti Africain de l'Indépendance (PAI), led by Majhmout Diop assumed the “Marxist-Leninist” ideology. Before the 1978 elections

Senghor shifted to a PR system to ensure a symbolic representation of the new legal opposition.

This first and important change in electoral system—along with the 1976 constitutional amendment that restricted the number of legally recognized political parties—represents a type of imposed reform, which I will examine in detail in the next chapter. In the 1978 elections,

Senghor and his party (which enjoyed an outstanding comparative advantage against the newly created opposition) emerged as the winners of the first multiparty elections. He secured more than 80% of the vote in the presidential election against his only opponent, Abdoulaye Wade.

Although his ruling party won a sweeping victory with 82 seats out of 100 in the National

Assembly, the PDS received 18 seats—putting an end to the PS monopoly of the National

104

Assembly (Mozaffar and Vengroff 2002, 607). Senghor, however, was also careful to limit the power of the PDS as an opposition; in December of the same year, the PS-dominated National

Assembly amended the constitution to allow the registration of a fourth political party, the

Mouvement Républicain Sénégalais (MRS), representing the “nationalist-democratic” ideology

(Fall 2007, 94).1

Senghor voluntarily retired from office two years later—a revolutionary and unprecedented act in Africa at a time when the only way that leaders left office was either by being overthrown from power by a military coup or by dying in office. With Senghor’s departure on January 1, 1981, his Prime Minister since 1970 and handpicked successor, Abdou

Diouf, assumed the presidency amidst various pressures (Diamond 2010).

A Quasi-Democracy under Intense Pressure for Liberalization

Diouf’s effort to maintain the PS dominance in the context of a declining economy turned out to be a difficult exercise. Although democratic institutions and practices began to take shape throughout the 1980s, the process was a bumpy one, with various obstacles resulting from a lack of consensus on the rules of the democratic game, post-election unrest (Cruise O'Brien et al.

2002, 101-107), and starting in 1982 from a growing separatist claim in the southern Casamance region of Senegal. As Senghor’s successor, Diouf had inherited significant control over the state apparatus, and enjoyed important advantages over the divided opposition in terms of access to the state resources. He also was able to maintain party patronage networks with Sufi leaders and expand the political and social basis of the PS. He nevertheless quickly faced significant challenges to his regime as he attempted to consolidate his position.

1 See Loi n° 78-60 du 28 décembre 1978 modifiant la Constitution.

105

Thus in 1982, in response to mounting criticism of his regime, Diouf removed constraints on political activity and decided to shift to a mixed (parallel) electoral system before the 1983 elections. This important change in the electoral system will be analyzed in depth in the next chapter. For the moment it is important to note that while these two measures allowed numerous smaller parties to be officially registered, they also contributed to fragmenting the opposition, which was plagued by ideological rifts and unable to create a united front against Diouf (Diop

1992, 439). The fact that the ruling party easily won the 1983 elections under the new rules provided an incentive for opposition parties and the embryonic civil society to begin to push their demands for what they referred to as a “real democracy”: one that included a real possibility of political alternation through the ballot box, and the effective separation of legislative, judiciary, and executive branches (Diop and Diouf 2002, 103-105).

The challenges to the Diouf regime were aggravated by escalating popular discontent resulting from the adverse economic situation which characterized Senegal and indeed much of

Africa in the 1980s. Throughout the decade, President Diouf was obliged to respond to the deteriorating economic conditions by complying with the International Monetary Fund (IMF) structural adjustment measures. The subsequent elimination of government subsidies for many social services increased economic and social hardship in all sectors of economic life. The growing unemployment and declining purchasing power which affected the Senegalese people provoked a serious social malaise which gradually further eroded the popularity of the regime

(Galvan 2001, 53).

The opposition which started to organize around Wade and the PDS in the mid-1980s benefited much from the declining popularity of the ruling elites, and as the elections of 1988 approached it was confident in its potential to make a breakthrough. This turned out to be a

106

deceptive hope. In the end, Diouf could still count on his control over his party’s rural base and the crucial electoral support of the major Sufi leaders to maintain his dominance. The declaration of victory for the PS in the 1988 elections amidst charges of fraud and intimidation, however, mobilized an opposition, which had become “radicalized” (Beck 1997, 17) by its persistent inability to assume power through the ballot box. In the wake of the declaration of results, unprecedented violent protests erupted in Dakar, and a state of emergency was declared and

Abdoulaye Wade, the losing presidential candidate and leading figure of the opposition, was imprisoned. Despite his rather quick release, the regime was not able to diffuse the climate of unrest which dragged on throughout the year. This downward slide was further compounded in

1989 by an uncertain economic situation, border tensions with Mauritania that provoked ethnic violence, and a new resurgence of separatist fighting in the Casamance (Marut 2010). It was clear that, despite making considerable progress in building democratic institutions between

1970 and the late 1980s—notably in contrast to much of Africa—the recurrent post-election unrests were a severe blow to the political stability of the country.

However, a new breakthrough was to come as a result of the confluence of the domestic political crisis with the international context. The winds of democratization blowing across

Africa (and elsewhere in the world) in the early 1990s—the result of domestic and international pressures for change—subsequently led to a series of constitutional reforms and political compromises in Senegal throughout the 1990s. In March 1991, the National Assembly approved several constitutional amendments that restored the position of Prime Minister which had been cancelled a few years early (Thiam 2001). This reform was conceived as a measure to dilute presidential powers, and it created incentives for opposition parties to participate in the new government of national unity which was put in place a month later (Diop 1990).

107

In addition to appointing Wade and other opposition figures to high ministerial positions,

Diouf made very significant compromises over the design of a new electoral code in 1992 for the

1993 presidential and legislative elections. Key amendments in this new code, which we will discuss in depth in chapter seven, included limiting the presidential to a maximum of two terms and the clause that a candidate would be elected in the first round if he or she obtains an absolute majority of the total votes cast, provided this is equal to a quarter of the number of registered voters (Fall 2007, 133). Perhaps the most important agreements were changes in the whole framework governing the electoral process and, in particular, the adoption of provisions such as the lowering of the voting age from 21 to 18; the mandatory use of voting booths, and the establishment of a new national voter list under the supervision of political parties. These compromises led to the improvement of the “quasi-democratic system” and paved the way to a slight breakthrough of the main opposition during the 1993 elections. Nevertheless, Diouf managed to win the presidency again and his party swept up 82 parliamentarian seats out of 100

(Villalón 1994, 169) given that the administration was still in charge of the organization of elections (Beck 2008).

Although the years following these elections were marred by ongoing social unrest— especially from student organizations following the January 1994 devaluation of the CFA franc2—the major threat to the tenure of the regime did not come directly from the opposition.

Indeed, Diouf managed to gain the re-entry of Abdoulaye Wade and other influential figures of the opposition into government again in 1995. While this gave them some access to state resources, it also contributed to undermining their credibility. The decisive threat to the regime came, rather, from inside the PS and was associated with succession politics between the

2 This currency, shared by most of the former French colonies in Africa, had remained pegged to the French franc at a fixed rate even after independence, and indeed remains pegged to the Euro today.

108

potential barons of the ruling party. When Diouf nominated Ousmane Tanor Dieng as his successor at a party’s congress in 1996—which is often referred to as “le congrès sans débat”

(the convention without debate)—prominent figures like Djibo Leyti Ka and Moustapha Niasse resigned from the PS and went on to form respectively the Union pour le Renouveau

Democratique (Union for Democratic Renewal—URD) in 1997 and the AFP in 1999 (Galvan

2001, 54; Osei 2012, 222). These turbulences within the party empowered the opposition and affected future political developments.

Under intense pressure in the run up to the 1998 legislative elections, the government was forced to meet the new demands of the opposition for changes in central institutions in charge of administrating the election process.3 However, as developed in chapter seven, instead of creating an independent electoral commission as many leaders of the opposition had demanded, President

Diouf created two separate bodies: the Direction Générale des Elections (DGE) and the

Observatoire National des Elections (ONEL). By entrusting the direction of these two electoral management bodies to military generals, Diouf was expecting to ensure the credibility and transparency of the electoral process. During the 1998 legislative elections, then, the opposition performed better than it had in any previous elections. Due to the vote-seat disparity produced by the mixed electoral system adopted in 1992 (which we will discuss below), however, the PS still managed to secure 50.19% of the vote cast (corresponding to 93 of the 140 seats in the parliament). The PDS came second with 19.2% (23 seats) whereas Ka’s URD received 13.1%

(11 seats). That PS emerged again as the winner of the elections with slightly more than 50% of the vote did not help to appease the opposition.

3It should be noted that the 1992 changes also changed the presidential term to 7 year while keeping the legislative term at 5. Hence, presidential and parliamentary elections were no longer held simultaneous.

109

Despite this apparent continued strength of the ruling party, however, the tenure of

Diouf’s regime was to come to an end two years later, a product of the electoral system used for presidential races. Although Diouf had a lead over Wade in the first round of the 2000 presidential elections he did not get an absolute majority, and the whole opposition united behind the PDS candidate in the required run-off and hence secured his victory. Senegal had thus accomplished its presidential transition by the electoral defeat of an incumbent president.

Abdoulaye Wade and the Challenge of Democratic Consolidation

Wade’s election in 2000 ended nearly 40 years of political hegemony by the Socialist

Party in Senegal, and the 19-year reign of the PS leader Abdou Diouf. The fact that the incumbent candidate gracefully conceded defeat bolstered Senegal’s democratic credentials, and boosted people’s confidence in their capacity to change political leadership through elections.

However, the regime change in 2000 has not translated into a clear break with the past—at least not in regard to the crucially important relationship between the state and religion. Immediately after his election in 2000, Wade unexpectedly tried to maintain the historical close relationship, and indeed took it a step further. He declared himself a disciple of the Mouride Sufi order and went to Touba to kneel down before the Khalif, the supreme leader of the order (Villalón 2007).

Having campaigned on a promise to make a number of changes to the system if elected, some progress was made in terms of institutional reform at the beginning of Wade’s first term.

These included the drafting of a new constitution (Fall 2007, 193). It should be noted that after the Sopi Coalition4—including Wade’s PDS and its allies—came to power in 2000, President

Wade entered a situation of cohabitation with the Socialist Party (now in the opposition, but still holding a parliamentary majority). Because Wade was constitutionally barred from dissolving

4 “Sopi” is the Wolof word for “change.” The Sopi Coalition was formed in the second round of the presidential election in 2000. It was composed of Wade’s PDS and smaller parties.

110

the National Assembly and calling a new parliamentary election, he chose to change the constitution—otherwise he would be stuck with the PS majority in the legislature. 5 While the

Socialist Party did not oppose this change, the new constitutional emerged, however, following intense negotiations and compromises between the two camps. The draft constitution was approved by 94% of the voters on a turnout of 65.7% (Elgie 2011, 126). It established a unicameral parliament by abolishing the socialist-controlled Senate and reduced the president’s term (which had been increased to seven in early 1990s) to five years.6 In the subsequent 2001 parliamentary elections under the new constitution, the Sopi Coalition—which included the PDS and some smaller parties—secured a sweeping victory. The electoral alliance that brought Wade to power, however, quickly began to break down as he lost support from his allies in the loose coalition. Moustapha Niasse, the leader of the AFP and third-place winner in the presidential election who had rallied to Wade in the run-off and was rewarded with the post of the prime minister, was dismissed in March 2001(see Diop, Diouf, and Diaw 2000, 172).

From that point onward, government reshuffling became so frequent that Senegal saw five prime ministers in seven years. One of them, Idrissa Seck, who was seen by many as the number-two man in the PDS was dismissed in 2004 and arrested in 2005 on embezzlement charges (see Hesseling 2007, 162; Diamond 2009, 261). Wade ruled quite imperially, and the repression against the opposition inside and outside the PDS remained quite consistent over the years. In 2006, political unrest flared up over the decision by the government to postpone the parliamentary elections that were scheduled for the same year. Wade justified this move by arguing that holding the presidential and parliamentary elections jointly in 2007 would save

5 These representatives had been elected for 5 years in 1998.

6 Unforeseen at the time, this change was later to produce an intense debate about whether or not Wade’s first term should be subject to the provisions of the constitution under which he was elected, or to the new one passed shortly after his election.

111

money, which could be used to finance the controversial “Plan Jaxay”—an urban redevelopment program to relocate victims of the 2005 flooding in the Dakar region. (Zartman et al. 2015, 151).

In the presidential election scheduled for February 2007, the whole dilemma of the opposition came to the fore in the struggle to build a viable coalition against Wade. The numerous infighting among the leaders of the individual parties—none of whom was ready to give up his presidential ambitions—prevented them from reaching an agreement over a unified opposition front candidate. On February 25, Abdoulaye Wade thus unsurprisingly secured a second term with 55.9% in the first round of the presidential election. Though international and national observers declared the election free and fair, significant opposition forces initially refused to concede defeat and accused Wade of electoral fraud. The incumbent president, however, clearly enjoyed a great deal of sympathy among the religious authorities (especially the

Mouride Sufi leadership) and was surrounded by the aura of a President who had in fact brought much change to Senegal through building of infrastructure during his first term.

The parliamentary elections took place on June 3, 2007, without the participation of the leading opposition parties, which boycotted the elections on the grounds that the electoral lists were flawed. However, a number of small (and some previously unknown) opposition parties contested the polls, allowing the PDS-led Sopi Coalition to win 69.2% of the votes and hold 131 of the 140 seats—with the turnout at an all-time low of 34.7% (Elgie 2011, 129; Osei 2012).

In the contentious post-election context, widespread frustration over the increase of food prices erupted in violent protest in March 2008, and fueled an opportunity for the extra- parliamentary opposition which came together under the banner of a coalition known as the front

Benno Siggil Sénégal (United to Boost Senegal—BSS) and called for an Assises Nationales

(National Conference) (Mbow 2011; Diop 2013, 448). When this consultative body was in fact

112

set up by 74 organizations opposed to Wade’s rule, the ruling party chose not to participate in its deliberations on the future of the country, and in positions on both sides were frozen. Echoing the 1990s and the end of Diouf’s reign, the ruling party found itself also grappling with internal divisions, notably after the president of the National Assembly, Macky Sall, fell out of favor with

Wade when he called Karim Wade (the president’s son) for a hearing before parliament. At the time, Karim Wade was in charge of the Agency for the Organization of the Islamic Conference

(ANOCI) which was under attack as an “unaccountable” institution from which he was allegedly profiting (Mbow 2008, 165).

This turbulent politics of the period called into question Senegal’s democratic credentials during Abdoulaye Wade’s second term, which was supposed to end in 2012. The succession crisis was already mounting within the ruling party, complicated by the controversy over whether

Wade was eligible to run again or not for a third term. Although the 2001 constitution imposed a two-term limit on the presidency, Wade who became president before the constitution was changed argued that the constitutional provisions were not retroactive and, therefore, did apply to him. Moreover, there were growing signs that President Wade was grooming his son Karim— who had held multiple posts and was then serving as a minister in the government—to be his potential successor (Hesseling 2008, 170). The fact that Wade has effectively succeeded in neutralizing all other possible successors, including Sall who left the PDS to create his proper party (the Alliance pour la République/Yaakaar—APR/Yaakaar), increased suspicion about a possible hereditary succession. When Wade proposed a constitutional amendment in late 2010 to lower the percentage of votes required for a first-round victory and to create the position of vice- president, (which many believed was designed to enable Wade’s son to succeed him), this provoked an unprecedented popular rising against the regime. In June 2011, a coalition of civil

113

society organizations and political parties known as the Mouvement M23 was formed, and mass demonstration threatened to destabilize the country. Wade eventually dropped plans for the two constitutional changes. After the Constitutional court ruled in his favor on the issue of another term, he ran for a third term in March 2012.7 Forced into a run off when he failed to win in the first round, he lost in the second round against Macky Sall, his former prime minister and candidate of the APR who got a comfortable majority in the second round with 65.8% of the vote cast (Fouchier 2013, 179).

Between the first and the second rounds of the presidential election, Sall pledged that he would apply the conclusions of the 2008 Assises Nationales and reduce the presidential term to again lower it from seven to five years. Upon his election, he created in May 2013 the

Commission nationale pour la réforme des institutions (National Commission on Institutional

Reform—CNRI). Nine months later, the CNRI presented its conclusions and proposed a series of institutional reforms.8 Perhaps the biggest surprise was the delivery of a whole new draft constitution of 154 proposed revisions, including the reduction of the presidential term limit. The reduction of the presidential terms limit turned out to be relatively contentious.

On March 20, 2016, 63% of Senegalese voting in the referendum for the reform of the constitution approved the changes proposed by President Macky Sall and his ruling coalition, but only 38 percent of Senegalese voters participated. Contrary to Sall’s electoral promises, the reduction of the presidential term limit to five years will take effect only from the next presidential election in 2019. Although the opposition has criticized this measure, the 15 major

7 See BBC. 28 January 2012. “Senegal clashes erupt as court clears Wade poll bid.” http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-16770305 (Accessed October 11, 2016).

8 See Commission nationale pour la réforme des institutions (CNRI). 2013. Rapport de la commission de réforme des institutions au Président de la République du Sénégal. Available at : http://www.cnri.sn/media/pdfs/1392807779.pdf

114

provisions of the amendments also contain changes which are widely seen as progressive. These include a limitation on the age of presidential candidates to 75, the authorization of independent candidacies in all types of elections, constitutional recognition for the status of “leader of the opposition” to the largest parliamentary party not in the government, and the granting of more power to local authorities. The 2016 constitutional revisions might well, therefore, further the functioning of democratic institutions, deepen the rule of law, and modernize the political system in Senegal.

As we have seen, Senegal’s political trajectory is marked by continuous evolution rather than rupture. The country has shifted from a single party regime (1960-1974) to a limited multiparty system (1974-1981), and has become respectively a dominant party system (1981-

2000) and a multi-party system (2000-present). This trajectory is partly the result of the legitimization mechanism of the state played by the Sufi orders, the political neutrality of the military, and the long process of incremental institutional reform undertaken by various regimes in response to political and social crises. These factors have contributed to making Senegalese democratic institutions resilient over time. They also explain why Senegal stands out as a distinct case in contrast with Mali and Niger.

Mali: The Rise and Collapse of a ‘Democratic Success’

Mali experienced genuine political transition from authoritarian rule and gradually built democratic institutions for more than twenty years, yet displayed state fragility characteristic along the way that brought about a breakdown of its democratic foundations. Since the 1991 uprising that put an end to the rule of the country’s then long-standing military dictator, Moussa

Traoré, Mali has held five democratic national elections (1992, 1997, 2002, 2007, and 2013). Yet this apparent democratic progress obscures the fact that Mali’s recent political development is a tale of two histories.

115

As Mali celebrated two decades of its transition, scholars were trying to understand how this poor Muslim-majority country had managed to build democratic institutions, and donors remained charmed by what they considered the crown jewel of democracy in West Africa. Yet

Mali’s democracy had paradoxically never been so controversial at home. The state had failed to deliver sufficient economic improvement to meet popular expectations, and the institutional deficiencies that had marked the system since the formative period of the Malian democracy in the early 1990s undermined its legitimacy. This initial institutional deficit was later compounded not only by elite “consensus politics,” which prevented democratic institutions from growing stronger, but also by the long-lasting praetorian culture that was lurking in the background of the political game. The following sections demonstrate how the conjunction of these factors hampered the resilience of democratic institutions and the capacity of the Malian state to absorb exogenous and endogenous shocks, and how the regime that came to power after the 2012 military coup is seeking to address these shortcomings by implementing a series of institutional reforms.

Modibo Keita and his Short-lived Authoritarian Regime

On September 1960, Mali (former French Soudan) became a Republic following the breakup of the short-lived Federation of Mali. The leftist politician Modibo Keita, who had dominated pre-independence politics, became the country’s first president. He moved quickly to establish a de facto single-party system with a socialist regime run by the Union soudanaise-

Rassemblement démocratique Africain (US-RDA) party. Like the UPS in Senegal, the US-RDA was able to quickly absorb its potential rivals including the Union Dogon and the Parti de la solidarité et du progrès (PSP), the leading opposition party (Baudais 2015, 157). However, unlike Senghor in Senegal who tried to build his legitimacy through patronage bonds between his

116

regime and Sufi clerics, Keita’s centralized and homogenizing nation-building model made Islam

“officially invisible” (Brenner 2000, 171).

In fact, Keita’s regime was socialist in inspiration. Mali’s first government (1960-1968) quickly launched an extensive state-led program of national development, but the hasty measures it took eventually led to the downfall of the Malian economy and defeated the socialist project

(De Jorio 2003, 830). Not only did this political platform meet with little adhesion from the peasant farmers who made up the majority of Malians and who have a different conception of solidarity, but it turned out that the regime had very limited resources to sustain its policies in the early years of independence.9 The creation in October 1960 of the state-owned Société Malienne d’Importation et d’Exportation (SOMIEX) which enjoyed a monopoly on trade in manufactured goods and food products and their distribution throughout the country dealt a devastating blow to private business (Amselle et al. 1993, 43). This did not help to improve the living conditions of people in this poor country, where the average family income in 1960 was 52 US dollars per year

(Schachter-Morgenthau 1964, 281).

In this context of economic hardship, the ruthless pursuit of full Malian sovereignty in all areas, and particularly the 1962 decision to abandon the CFA franc and the creation of the

Malian franc provoked runaway inflation and a budgetary deficit that sparked a wave of discontent (Imperato and Imperato 2008, 123; Bebler 1973, 84). This jeopardized the legitimacy of the regime, caught between domestic tensions and tendentious rivalries within the US-RDA

(Bebler 1973, 85). On the one hand, the “moderate” right wing of the party—consisting of the

9 The colonial administration had introduced no significant social and economic changes. The major existing development project at the time of independence was the Office du Niger, an extensive irrigation system built in 1919, whose great potential had yet to be fully tapped. In addition, the gains in terms of economic development of Mali were challenged not only by the dissolution of the AOF Federation in 1958, but also by the breakup of the Mali Federation in 1960. This three-year tension (1960-1963) officially interrupted any exchange between Senegal and Mali, causing a blockade of goods entering the port of Dakar, which was the terminus of the unique railway link between Bamako and the sea.

117

older members and technocrats in the administration who were committed to a more liberal economic option—set up a vast internal sabotage campaign aimed at increasing the growing gap between the state and the Malian population (see Baudais 2015, 159). On the other, the ascending Marxist trend of “hard liners” advocated the acceleration of the “ideological” transformation of society and in the words of one politician of the time, “went on a witch hunt”.10 On July 1962 Fily Dabo Sissoko, the leader of the Parti progressiste soudanais (PSP) who was opposed to the creation of the Malian franc, was arrested with two other party officials and immediately sentenced on charges of attempting to destabilize the state (Imperato and

Imperato 2008).

Although the US-RDA single list won 80 out of 80 seats in the National Assembly during the first post-independence elections in February 1964, and Keïta was duly reelected for another term as president by the legislature, the regime started to show signs of leadership fatigue. An emerging division within the Bureau Politique National grew worse in 1966 when Keita started what he labeled the “revolution active.” As the crisis worsened, he suspended the constitution and decided to govern by decree. On March 1st, 1966, he replaced the Bureau Politique National with the Comité national de défense de la révolution (CNDR) which enjoyed full powers

(Baudais 2015, 161). Keïta also dissolved the National Assembly one year before the end of the parliamentarian term limit and replaced it by a Legislative Delegation of 28 members chosen by the President (Kasuka 2013, 201). However, the effect of the political crisis was too deep to be mitigated by an internal reorganization of the single party regime.

These reforms coincided, in fact, with a harsh drought and international pressure for economic reform in 1967 (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 52). Despite the monetary agreement with

10 Interview with Dramane Coulibaly, member of the Malian parliament under Keita’s rule. Segou (Mali), December 27, 2014.

118

France which brought Mali back into the CFA Franc zone, “the ruling party continued to progressively lose popularity among various strata of the population including the peasants and the merchants who represented an important basis of support for the regime.”11 This loss of support was to undermine Keita’s increasingly dictatorial rule, a process further accelerated by inconsistencies within the military, which was threatened by the growing influence of the

“Milice populaire” (“People’s Militia”).12 The creation of this paramilitary organization—which had taken a number of the prerogatives of the regular army since the early years of independence—coupled with the propensity of the Keita regime to condition the promotion within the military to party membership, had negatively affected the relations between the civilian leadership and the military (see Schulz 2012, 17-18). In the end, the conjunction of economic burdens and the mounting discontent of the people tired of the abuses by the authoritarian regime pushed a group of young officers to seize power through a military coup in

November 1968 (Wing 2008, 26). Keita’s removal from power constituted an important element of contrast with Senegal where, during the very same period, Senghor succeeded in overcoming the social crisis that threatened his tenure by undertaking incremental institutional reforms. The

1968 coup marked the first critical juncture that opened the door to a lasting involvement of the

Malian military in politics.

From Praetorian Dictatorship to the Transition to Democracy

The 1968 military coup shed light on the historical origins of the praetorian political culture in Mali and the incapacity of the state’s civilian actors to isolate the military from the

11 Interview with Daba Diawara, former Minister for the Reform of Institutions and head of a 15-member committee that was tasked with reviewing Mali's political system in 2008. Bamako (Mali), November 25, 2014.

12 The “Milice populaire” (“People’s Militia”) was a militant youth organization that had been created by the ruling party to serve as a substitute to the Malian security services still heavily populated by French officers. The “People’s militia” also served as an instrument to suppress local opposition.

119

political realm in the earlier stage of state institutional building. After the coup a 14-member

Comité militaire de liberation nationale (CMLN) was set up, with Lieutenant Moussa Traoré as the Head of the Malian state. The most unpopular of the socialist economic policies under

Modibo Keïta were dropped. The National Assembly of 80 members elected in February 1964 was dissolved and replaced by Conseil national consultatif (CNC) of 85 members chosen by the military (Diarra 2010, 106). The CMLN ruled by decree, with the help of an appointed Council of Ministers (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 52; Wing 2008, 26). Despite the prohibition of political activities, the left-wing opposition, especially the Parti malien du travail (PMT), continued to operate underground. It controlled the direction of the Union nationale des travailleurs du Mali

(UNTM) that supported the previous government of Keita. However, “the military junta dissolved the UNTM which was divided into several separate unions and arrested members of the Bureau who had demanded the departure of the military from power during the second congress of the union”.13

In a context where Mali was swept by major droughts between 1972 and 1973, the military leaders of the CMLN were obliged to try to provide a legal foundation for their rule, and to enhance the shaky legitimacy of their tenure. The adoption of a new constitution was the first step in this direction. In June 1974, at the time when Senghor was liberalizing the political arena in Senegal, Malians were going to the polls to approve the constitution of the Second Republic, which granted more power to the Praetorian dictatorship. The new constitution instituted a

National Assembly whose 82 members were elected for four years through a first-past-the-post system with a single national list presented by the single party,14 a presidential style of

13 Interview with Aly Nouhoum Diallo, former member of PMT and president of the National Assembly from 1992 to 2002. Bamako (Mali), November 2014.

14 Unsurprisingly, when this system was first used, the ruling UDPM received 100% of the vote.

120

government, and a five-year period of transitional rule by the CMLN (Baudais 2015, 171;

Imperato and Imperato 2008, 307).

Unlike Keita, whose homogenizing policies had alienated various strata of the Malian society, Traoré tried to legitimize his rule by sponsoring a number of horizontal organizations to link the military regime to the people (Clark 1999, 164). These include the Union nationale des femmes du Mali (UNFM), the Union nationale des jeunes du Mali (UNJM) and, the Union nationale des travailleurs du Mali (UNTM). The latter was dissolved after the 1968 coup and reconstituted following its third Ordinary Congress in 1974 (Imperato and Imperato, 2008: 329).

Two years after the constitution was adopted, the military regime—which had eliminated all potential rivals following accusations of plotting a coup—created a new party: the Union démocratique du peuple Malien (UDPM).

However, the attempt to legitimize the military rule did not put an end to political maneuvering. A major challenge to Traoré’s regime came from high school and university students who were under the influence the opposition left (Diarra 2010, 124). Their radical stance and protests throughout the 1970s compelled the regime to seek a political solution for addressing their demands. Thus for example the cabinet reshuffle that Traoré undertook in May

1978 allowed the entry into the government of progressive young intellectuals like Alpha Oumar

Konaré, who became Minister of Youth, Sports, Arts and Culture. While presidential and/or legislative elections were held in 1979, 1982, 1985, and 1988, Traoré and his party regularly ran unopposed, winning more than 98 percent of the vote in each, by the government’s count

(Villalón & Idrissa 2005, 52).

Although the opposition seemed to have been brought under government control by the end of the 1970, it eventually grew during the 1980s, before fully emerging in the 1990s. In the

121

early 1980s, there was a sense among many Malians that the regime was leading the country into a dead end. The severe repression of student demonstrations in March 1980—which led to the death under torture of student leader Abdoul Karim Camara, known as “Cabral” (Cisse 2006,

18)—along with other inconsistencies that signaled regime stagnation in the end pushed Alpha

Oumar Konaré to resign from the government. The fact that the UDPM-controlled legislature amended the constitution in 1985 to exempt Traoré from the two-term limit fueled further mistrust in the authoritarian regime, which was experiencing a serious blockage in the late 1980

(Diarrah 1996, 23).

The warning signs of the imminent fall of the Traoré regime began to appear during the

June 1990 general meeting of the UDPM when the leadership of the party, unable to reach a consensus over the question of democratic opening, decided to defer the examination of the issue to a “special congress” of the party to be held on March 28, 1991. Meanwhile, the claim for multiparty politics had gradually become a major demand of political actors and civil society organizations alike (Villalón and Idrissa, 2005: 54), galvanized by the development of democratic ideals subsequent to the collapse of communism in Eastern Europe (Diarrah, 1996).

In October 1990, the Congrès national d'initiative démocratique (CNID) was created by

Mountaga Tall, and the Alliance pour la démocratie au Mali (ADEMA) by Alpha Oumar

Konaré. These political organizations, along with student and human rights groups—the

Association des élèves et étudiants du Mali (AEEM) and the Association malienne des Droits de l'Homme (AMDH)—started to openly challenge Traoré’s regime before its special congress in

1991 (Le Roy 1993, 145; Villalón & Idrissa 2005, 54). Not only were the military authorities pressured by Tuareg rebels who had taken up arms against the Malian state since June 1990, they were also facing a series of popular uprisings demanding democratic elections in the capital

122

Bamako (Perret 2014). On 26 March 1991 a student-led anti-government demonstration broke out and met with support among labor unions and nascent political parties. After four days of intense rioting brutally repressed by the military regime, a group of military officers led by

Amadou Toumani Touré (popularly known as “ATT”) brought the Traoré regime to an end and suspended the constitution (Villalón and Idrissa, 2005, Diarrah, 1991).

The Consensus Model of Democratic Transition in Mali

Unlike the 1968 military coup, this second one in March 1991 was a pivotal historical event, as it paved the way to a two-fold transition from military to civilian rule and from authoritarianism to democracy. The distinguishing features of this transition were the crucial process of tension and the negotiation between the military and democratic organizations over the definition of the new democratic rules and institutions. The initial apprehension that the military might want to remain in power was defused from the onset given that the Comité de transition pour le Salut du peuple (CTSP), which was entrusted with administering the transition, was headed by Touré and composed of 10 military and 15 anti-Traoré civilians (Diarrah 1991,

96; Wing 2008, 63-4). This transitional committee was divided into special committees to discuss the issues on its agenda, and to draft a constitution that would define the structure of the new democratic institutions. This was subsequently to be adopted without amendment. From the beginning, the members of the Transition Committee declared their intention to rule for a nine- month period ending with a constitutional referendum and multi-party elections. Touré (ATT) himself made it clear that he had no intention to run for office (Diarra 2010). The first actions of the CTSP were to authorize the formation of political parties on 5 April 1991, and to convene a

National Conference for July and August 1991.15

15 “National conferences” had emerged as a significant mode of transition in Francophone Africa following the example of Benin in 1990. They had been mechanisms used in Mali and Niger in 1991 to bring together people

123

The National Conference was an important juncture, as it led to the design of new institutions and a path for the transition of Mali to democracy. Given the overthrow of Traoré, the conference was not faced with the need to manage conflict between an incumbent regime and a competing opposition (as in some African cases), nor was it taken as a moment to go on a systematic witch-hunt against the leaders of the old regime and their associates. Rather, it was based on the guiding principle of building consensus and turning the country away from the dictatorial legacy of the past regime. Consequently, it brought together all strata of the population (including state officials, the military, representatives of the officially-registered political parties, and civil society organizations) (Clark 1999, 165; Villalón & Idrissa 2005, 59).

In addition to the drafting of a consensual constitution, approved in a referendum on 12 January

1992, new electoral rules were set up. While this ushered in a widely applauded democratically elected government, the country’s road to democratization continued to be a rough one, inevitably mixed with ups and downs determined by power politics.

Weak Institutions and Democratic Breakdown

After the adoption the new consensual constitution, Mali moved into a new era where democracy became the accepted norm. The first multiparty presidential and legislative elections in 1992 were won by Alpha Oumar Konaré and his party ADEMA. The legitimacy of the new president was undermined, however, by the fact that he was elected with a low turnout of only about 20%. In response, Konaré attempted to consolidate his authority through a power sharing model known as the Pacte républicain (Diarra 2010, 198; Diop 2006, 313). Although this approach was meant to reflect the collaborative spirit that prevailed at the National Conference, in fact it failed to unite the Malian political class, which remained polarized into two camps across the social, geographic, professional, and political spectrum to discuss and plan key aspects of a country’s future institutions.

124

which structured the post-transitional political process. On the one side, the Partis signataires du pacte républicain (PSPR)—including the US-RDA and the Parti pour la démocratie et le progrés (PDP)—accepted to join the coalition government. On the other hand, parties like the

Congrès national d'initiative démocratique (CNID) of Moutaga Tall refused to sign the Pact and preferred instead to unite under the opposition Front pour la sauvegarde de la démocratie (FSD)

(Chauzal 2011). Consequently, as Villalón and Idrissa (2005, 62) note:

Despite the relative success of these original efforts, the most significant trend in the first Konaré presidency was the gradual emergence of a serious political crisis, rooted directly in the country institutional setup and the dynamics that played out at the transition. In the face of the overwhelming ADEMA dominance of the Third Republic institutions, much of the opposition was to challenge their very legitimacy over the course of the 1990s.

Noticeably, Konaré cultivated the image of a president who had the ambition to govern with others and who used the inclusive legacy of the National Conference as the foundation for policy-making (Wing 2008, 62-3). The political culture of dialogue he created led to the signing in April 1992 of a Pacte national (National Pact) among all the major political and social actors to deal specifically with the conflict in northern Mali and domestic political problems (Perret

2014, 80). However, despite the political savvy of Konaré, the opposition regularly managed to exploit the limits of the state to challenge the regime—especially its inability to meet the various social demands exacerbated by the desire for change which had been stimulated by the advent of democracy. Political and social tensions reached their peak in April 5, 1993 when student unrests broke out in several parts of the country. The school crisis took a political turn after students were joined by several civil organizations such as the Union nationale des travailleurs du Mali (UNTM) and the opposition leaders from the Front de sauvegarde de la démocratie

(FSD). This contributed in bringing down the Pact républicain and marked the end of the first

125

post-transitional government under Prime Minister Younoussi Touré, which had taken office on

June 9, 1992.

The leaders of the FSD eventually joined the subsequent “inclusive government” put in place on April 1993. However, the inability of the regime to form a viable coalition strengthened the opposition, which boycotted a number of government decisions (De Jorio 2003, 803). This led to a political deadlock following serious social problems resulting from the 50 percent devaluation of the CFA Franc in January 1994 (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 63), which coincided with student protests and another Tuareg rebellion. While the departure from power of President

Konaré’s former allies shook the stability of the regime, it simultaneously allowed him to appoint a prime minister from within the ranks of the ruling ADEMA, Ibrahim Boubacar Keita

(known by his initials IBK), in February 1994. The subsequent centralization of the political game around ADEMA reinforced the unity of the ruling party which also held an absolute majority in Parliament (Chauzal 2011).

Despite his reputation for political firmness, IBK was able to capitalize on the political culture of dialogue, which he seized as an opportunity to diffuse political tensions and enhance political stability. Indeed, following the turbulent first few years of the democratic regime, this approach allowed a first social truce that led among other things to the normal course of the

1994-1995 school year16 and, importantly, to the signing of new peace agreement between the government and the Tuareg insurgents who were later integrated into the national army (Diarrah

1996, 92). In the same vein, the regime created what was known as the Espace d’interpellation démocratique (EID) to serve as a yearly forum conceived to bring together all the members of

16 There had not been a normal school year for several years due to strikes.

126

the Government and citizens who can speak directly to officials about issues of concerns

(Siméant, 2014, 17; Perret 2014, 217; Wing 2008).

While the two years following the creation of the EID were characterized by political calm, the approaching 1997 general elections began to exacerbate new opposition demands over the reform of electoral rules. These included demands for the creation of a Commission

électorale nationale indépendante (CENI) and a revision of the electoral system, specifically the adoption of a proportional representation system (see Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 62). The fact that the government used its supermajority in the parliament to impose a mixed electoral system in

1996—after several rounds of unsuccessful negotiations with the opposition—increased the divide between the two camps. However, the invalidation of this draft electoral code by the

Constitutional Court allowed a negotiated settlement over electoral institutions, thanks to the mediation of the Malian Bar association (Diarra 2010).

Facing a divided opposition, president Konaré and his party ADEMA won the 1997 presidential and legislative elections, amidst a boycott of the ballot in protest against the decision of the Court which refused to annul legislative elections (see Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 64).

However, the fact that Konaré continued public consultation in an attempt to address the

“political crisis” preserved some measures of governmental legitimacy. Indeed, on January 21-

28, 1999, the ruling regime convened the Forum politique national (National Political Forum) to reconsider the “fundamental texts” of the Third Republic (including the constitution, the electoral law, the party charter, the press law and the status of the opposition). This was following by the holding of the Forum National sur la Justice (National Forum for Judicial

Reform) that took place from March 30 to April 3, 1999, as part of a judicial reform process

(Wing 2008, 62). This continued “culture of dialogue” contributed to shaping the Malian path to

127

democratic survival throughout Konaré’s decade-long presidency, which came to an end with his second term in 2002.

However, in a pattern we have seen before, in the run-up to the 2002 elections, latent rivalries for leadership within ruling party, ADEMA, and hence to the succession of Konaré, led to internal divisions. In this context, retired General Amadou Toumani Touré (ATT), former head of the transitional government (1991-1992), made the decision to reenter politics as a civilian, but with no party affiliation. He capitalized on his image and reputation in the eyes of the public as a national hero who brought an end to the dictatorial Traoré regime in 1990. His election in 2002 as an independent candidate who benefited from the backing of some major political parties made him the country’s second democratically-elected President (Villalón and

Idrissa 2005, 68-71; Wing 2008, 8).

Building on the experience of his predecessor who had claimed to govern Mali on the principle of democratic dialogue, ATT established a model of what he termed “consensus politics,” positioning himself as being above partisan politics (Wing 2008, 94). This strategy seemed to work well during his first five-year term. However, it also weakened democratic institutions and inhibited the emergence of an alternative political force against the incumbent president, who was thus easily reelected—with 71% in the first round—in 2007. During his second presidential term, ATT proposed a broader institutional reform in the name of strengthening Malian democracy, on the grounds that gaps and shortcomings had marred the institutional make up since the democratic transition in1991. The proposed reforms included the establishment of a strong presidential system and a shift to a mixed electoral system.17 Although the process was officially launched in February 2008 with the installation of a committee of

17 See Rapport Daba Diawara Pour la consolidation de la démocratie au Mali, 2008.

128

experts (known as the “Comission Daba Diawara”) and the adoption a draft revision of the

Constitution in 2011, the project was in fact never submitted to a referendum. Despite these efforts, other factors undermined the legitimacy of the regime (Baudais 2015, 506).

During ATT’s second and final term, the regime grew increasingly unpopular with claims of corruption and ineffectiveness. In January 2012, the Malian state faced of an assault led by a

Tuareg rebellion, joined by Islamists affiliated with Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM)

(Perret 2014). Elements of the Malian military, unhappy with government’s handling of this unfolding insurgency, led a military coup, accusing the Touré regime of incompetence. They then formed a provisional governmental authority—the Comité national pour le redressement de la démocratie et la restauration de l’État (CNRDRE)—under the leadership of Captain Amadou

Sanogo. The 2012 military coup in Bamako has reinforced the importance of taking a close look at the underlying conditions that have the potential to generate dramatic change and instability.

More specifically, while this the coup sadly ended two decades of efforts at democracy construction, it sheds light on the historical persistence of the praetorian behavior of the Malian military, and the failure of the state’s civilian actors to isolate the military from the political realm in the earlier stages of state institution building. It is also suggestive of the limitations of the consensus style of governance that characterized Mali under ATT’s rule. The institutional crises subsequent to the severity of the joint Tuareg and Islamist shock in northern Mali, and the politico-institutional crisis in Bamako has clearly underlined the mismanagement of the past and the weak resilience of Mali’s institutions.

In an effort to restore stability to Mali following the military coup, and under intense outside pressure, a transition government of national unity was formed in August 2012 and approved by interim President Dioncounda Traoré (Baudais 2015, 512). Faced with significant

129

popular pressure domestically, as well as from the international community keen to see the emergence of legitimate officials that could deal with the multiple challenges the country was facing, this transitional government was forced to hold elections between July and December

2013 against the warnings of the Independent National Electoral Commission (CENI) that the conditions for holding such an election were not met.18 Against the odds, the successful organization of the presidential election (in July and August 2013) and legislative elections (in

November and December 2013) signaled a remarkably comeback of Mali from a political crisis that had encapsulated the country for eighteen months.

Ibrahim Boubacar Keita (IBK)—Prime Minister under Konaré in the 1990s and a longtime political figure in Mali with a reputation for decisive leadership—was elected with

77.7% of the vote, and the unusually high turnout of 48.9% in the second round of the election in

August 2013. Behind his victory was a strong sentiment of national recovery and a need to provide the newly-elected president with a legitimate tenure that would allow him to institute needed reforms to overcome the crisis. These included modernizing political and state administrative institutions, bringing the military under the constitutional control of civilians, and finding a practical way of dealing with the revived Tuareg rebellion in the north (Baudais 2015,

50).

The new elected president also undertook a series of political and institutional reforms in order to address the gaps and shortcomings in the institutional practice under the Touré regime.

Perhaps, the most controversial was the bill on the “Status of the political opposition” adopted by the Council of Ministers on August 13, 2014 (see Baudais 2015, 517-18). Although a

18 A new electoral framework which had been prepared for elections that were cancelled due to the 2012 coup, as well as new biometric voter lists streamlined the elections process, though some criticism remained that such measures excluded the participation of those who did not receive their biometric voter ID cards ( Known as NINA) on time.

130

consultative framework between the Ministry of Interior and the political class has been set up to discuss the draft law before its adoption, there is disagreement about the merits of the new law.

For partisan of the ruling regime, a well-defined status for the opposition will strengthen the democratic process that was undermined by the 22 March 2012 military coup. The majority of the opposition parties, by contrast, criticize this bill on the grounds that it could lead to a kind of consensus politics similar to the one practiced by the former President ATT, and which generated an almost non-existent opposition during his ten years in power (2002 to 2012).

It is premature to speculate on whether or not this reform will allow the opposition to be sufficiently independent to serve as a counter to the ruling power. However, it is clear that the new regime has so far demonstrated its intent to reform democratic institutions, and has done so in the claim of making them more inclusive, as exemplified by another bill that the government passed on July 30, 2014, aiming at promoting gender equality with regard to access to elective and nominative positions.

In sum, it appears that despite the wide belief that Mali had instituted a model democracy, democratic institutions (including especially electoral ones) were never in fact legitimate and widely accepted. The deficit of trust in the institutions and the latent praetorian culture among the military has contributed in hampering the capacity of the Malian state to absorb exogenous and endogenous shocks. Although the period following the 2012 military coup has seen continued efforts to rebuild functional institutions, the process of building a viable democracy is marked by intense debates over the reform of electoral rules.

Niger: Chronic Institutional Instability under Praetorian Surveillance

Among the three countries, Niger has been the most prone to political and institutional instability since the transition of the early 1990s. This instability is the outcome of three major

131

structural factors that are intrinsically linked to the political trajectory of the country since independence. The first factor is the persistence of an authoritarian tradition steaming from fourteen years of single-party rule (1960-1974) extended by fifteen years of military emergency regime (1974-1990). The second and subsequent factor is the fact that the military in Niger has been widely regarded as a “praetorian guard.” Although Nigerien elites are careful not to openly call for army intervention in politics, it is quite striking that every time the country faces a political or institutional crisis there is an expectation, and ready acceptance, of the military stepping in to address the problem. Since Niger became independent in August 1960, the country has experienced four military coups (1974, 1996, 1999 and 2010), three political transitions through multiparty elections (1992, 1999, and 2011), eight Presidents and not less than six republics (the current is the seventh). The third important factor to consider is the use of the influential traditional chieftaincy system as a mechanism for the legitimation of political power.

Successive civilian or military regimes have managed to keep traditional leaders under the yoke of state authority. This created a sort of institutional coexistence between the traditional institutions, such as the chieftaincy, and the state administration—the former contributing to legitimize the latter.

Hamani Diori’s Authoritarian Rule

When Niger acceded to full independence on August 3, 1960, Diori Hamani, who had gained prominence during the past decade thanks to the French backing, was elected president by the country’s National assembly. Like Senghor in Senegal and Keita in Mali, he quickly took an authoritarian stance to build national unity. He mobilized citizens around the ruling Parti progressiste Nigérien (PPN)—the country’s sole legal party after the French had banned all others in the lead-up to independence—restricted civil associations, and banned all kind of political competition. Diori activated ethnic ties, notably with his own ethnic community, the

132

Zarma-Songhay, as a means of consolidating control (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 35). He also strengthened the PPN’s ties with the existing traditional structures and offered members of the chieftaincy official positions in the government and in the National Assembly (Abba 1990, 55).

From the early 1960s, Diori ruled through the Political Bureau of the PPN and with a small number of influential figures who largely bypassed even the cabinet (Decalo 1990). While he also implemented measures to attempt to isolate the army from politics (Gazibo 1999a) the effort did not prevent the appearance of frictions, and in December 1963 there was the first military mutiny led by a certain Captain Diallo. The failure of this attempted mutiny thanks to

French intervention led the government to create a “party militia” under the direct control of the presidency. This was intended to counterbalance the power of the regular army (Raynal 1993,

22-23; Malam Issa 2008, 133). However, these earlier cleavages between the civil and the military actors weakened the new state institutions and run against Diori’s regime, pressured to weather a period of political tension, including an insurgency in the mid-1960s. Established in the Hausa region and, to a lesser extent in the northern part of the country, the Sawaba movement which was initially banned in 1959 attempted an abortive guerrilla campaign against the Diori government in the mid-1960s (Walraven 2013).

Although Diori managed to control the dissenting voices within Nigerien society and was re-elected unopposed in 1965 and 1970, he did not prove equally successful in mitigating antagonisms within his own party. While a reform of the PPN appeared increasingly necessary during the Congress of the party convened in May 1974—as a means to restore the shaky legitimacy and tenure of the regime—Diori was also under pressure to respond to the economic downturn resulting from the severe droughts that hit the country between 1967 and 1973. The inability of the government to relieve the subsequent famine and scandals surrounding lack of

133

food aid, along with increasing dissatisfaction amongst the military, led to the April 1974 coup which ended Diori’s rule (See Kimba 2008). Like Mali following the 1968 coup, and in contrast to the situation in Senegal where Senghor survived the 1968 social crisis by undertaking gradual institutional reforms, Niger was to live under military dictatorship for the next sixteen years.

Political and Institutional Reforms under the Military Regime

When the military took power in 1974, the new team led by the Conseil militaire suprême

(CMS) suspended the constitution, dissolved the institutions of the state and banned all political parties. Seyni Kountché, the military officer who led the 1974 coup d'état that put an end to the

Diori’s rule, became the head of the Nigerian executive (Raynal 1993, 23) under a provisional government. The CMS replaced the National Assembly by an advisory body, the Conseil national de développement (CND), which served as a parliament. While the junta initially promised a return to constitutional normality, the original promise to remain only temporarily in power came down to nothing more than a pious hope since the military regime was in fact to run the country until 1990.

Although Kountché appointed civilian technocrats in the June 1975 government, the first five years of his presidency were marked by the preponderance of the military which became a politically central institution, exercising exclusive executive and legislative powers. Kountché appointed military representatives to head most departments, ministries, and local government areas (Kimba 2008, 8). But given the politicization of the military institution, the rule of the

CMS was quickly marked by intra-military divisions that had existed prior to the takeover.

Following an abortive coup in August 1975 and a second failed attempt in March 1976,

Kountché eliminated the alleged perpetrators, including some senior officers of the CMS (Raynal

1993, 26) and civilians such as the general secretary of the Union nationale des travailleurs

134

nigériens (UNTN). Koutché thus gradually regained control over the political process by limiting the influence of the military in the government.

Moreover, the combined effect of an economic decline and an imminent crisis of management of state’s affairs prompted Koutché to emphasize legitimacy over coercion. Indeed, like Traoré in Mali, Kountché resorted to building what Robinson (1991, 1) refers to as

“corporatist models of state-society relations.” In other words, he linked the preexisting civil and religious structures of legitimization directly to the executive body, namely the CMS. These include the Association des Femmes du Niger (AFN), the Samaria (Youth Association), and the

Association Islamique du Niger (AIN) (Zakari 2009, 67). This was immediately followed by several reform measures. On April 14, 1979, Kountché announced plans to make Niger what he labeled a “société de développement.” The regime’s new developmental program, headed by the

Conseil national de développement (CND), was intended as an organizing framework for participatory democracy based on the triptych “consultation, participation and mobilization”.19

The government created a National Commission for the implementation of the Société de développement and launched a five-year development plan 1979-1983 in February 1980 (Salifou

2002, 231-32).

Although this project was design to address the rising economic concerns and to mitigate adverse consequences of the drought of the 1970s, the institutional arrangements put in place for its implementation foreshadowed a strategy of the military to control the entire Nigerien society.

Indeed, among the various structures which now fell within the purview of the CND, were all villages, cantons, arrondissements or municipalities, and departments. At each level, a local

“Development Council” was elected and brought together representatives of the Samaria,

19 Interview with Mahamadou Danda, Civil servant and former Prime Minister of Niger during the 2010 transition. Niamey (Niger), May 21, 2015.

135

cooperative bodies and other socio-professional organizations (Chauzal 2011, 188; Colin 1990,

36-37). The increase in uranium prices in 1979 enabled Niger, one of the main world producers of this natural resource, to experience a substantial growth in budgetary revenue (Grégoire 1986,

21; Olaniyan 1996, 52-53). The subsequent improvement in the country’s financial situation and the considerable resources available to the state had allowed the government to implement the objectives outlined in the five-year plan by developing the road network, health infrastructure, education, and water—especially in the rural area affected by the drought.20 Thus, until the

1980s, Niger was seen as a politically stable and economically rigorously managed country.

The year 1983 marked the beginning of a gradual shift from a politico-military regime to a civilian regime. In January 1983, after creating for the first time a position of Prime Minister entrusted to a civilian and a government which numbered only three military personnel,

Kountché announced the option of a “National Charter”—a sort of pre-constitutional document.

The drafting of this charter was assigned to a new Conseil national de développement that took office in August 1983 (Salifou 2002, 248-49). Composed of 150 members (with a strong representation of the military), this assembly—whose role was still confined to one of making suggestions—was responsible for leading the process of returning to constitutional order. These reforms measures enabled the military regime to create a semblance of political liberalization.

The final draft of the National Charter was submitted to the government for comment in October

1986, and then adopted by popular referendum in June 1987, opening up new political perspectives for the country. Indeed, the Charter provided, among other things, for the creation of non-elective and consultative bodies at national and local levels (Idrissa and Decalo 2012,

20 For more information about Kountché’s own explanation of the accomplishement of his regime, see Lieutenant- Colonel Seyni Kountché. 15 Avril 1974-15 Avril 1979. Résultat édifiant d’un sursaut national. Edité par le Secrétariat d’Etat à la Présidence chargé de l’Information. Imprimerie Nationale du Niger.

136

141). Kountché’s plan was for a new constitution to be drafted subsequent to the Charter and as a way to make way for a civilian rule (Colin 1990, 37), but in November 1987, President Kountché died unexpectedly while the process was not yet complete. The Conseil militaire suprême

(CMS), which was still the governing body in Niger, appointed Ali Saïbou (who had been appointed chief of staff since November 1974) to succeed him.

In his initial approach, Saïbou sought to break with the austere image and authoritarian management associated with his predecessor. Immediately after taking over as head of state in

1987, he opted for a general amnesty for political prisoners and cancelled unpopular measures implemented under Kountché. But in fact, his strategy to relax the general political climate proved to be quite limited; Saïbou could not conceive any idea of political pluralism outside the single party (Kimba 2008, 177). He also considered the presence of the military in the political and administrative apparatus irrevocable.21 Thus, without fully militarizing the regime but still falling short of the liberalization of the political system, the regime opted for a gradual opening while mentoring the process enough to prevent the development of any spaces of contestation outside the ruling party. Therefore, in June 1988, just after the establishment of the new Conseil national de développement (CND) which was to draft the new Constitution for Niger, the military decided to create a political party, the Mouvement national pour la société de développement (MNSD).

The fact that Ali Saïbou included a number of civilians in his government, while working along the same policy lines put in place by his predecessor helped to defuse the political climate.

The constitution adopted by referendum on 24 September 1989 inaugurated the Nigerien

“Second Republic.” It provided for a National Assembly consisting of 93 members, elected by

21 The new government appointments in March 1988 confirmed the prominent role of the military in the country's political life. Military held seven portfolios and remained at the head of the seven region prefectures.

137

universal suffrage for a five-year term on the basis of a single national list presented by the single party, the MNSD (see Raynal 1993, 45). If theoretically the country had returned to a constitutional state, in practice the adoption by referendum of the new constitution clearly did not entail a shift away from the military regime. Through these reforms, President Saïbou was seeking ways to settle his power and legitimacy. Like his predecessor Kountché, he had sought to link different Samarias, cooperatives, and other traditional and religious structures to his newly created single party. Sole candidate during the December 1989 elections which followed,

General Saïbou was elected president for a seven year term (with 99.65% of votes cast), while the single list of the MNSD secured 99.52% of the vote (Kimba 2008, 177-78).

In the aftermath of this effort at legitimating his regime via “elections,” Saibou was faced with an increasingly difficult economic situation, due in particular to the fall in uranium prices and a very poor harvest due to poor rainfall (Raynal 1993, 53). In the face of growing popular dissatisfaction, the repression of “massive protests in response to the [regime’s] efforts to impose the structural adjustment demanded by the International Monetary fund” (Villalón and Idrissa,

2005, 30) led to a severe political crisis. The violent suppression of a student demonstration which led to the deaths of several students only increased the pressures on Saïbou and by the end of 1990 he was finally obliged to concede to demands for a National conference, which was convened in 1991. This marked the beginning of the transition to democracy.

The National Conference and the Transition to Democracy in Niger

Like in Mali, the transition to democracy in Niger was inaugurated by the holding of a

National Conference. However, the conference was preceded by “several month of maneuvering concerning control of the process.” (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 30) Unlike in Mali where the regime was overthrown prior to the transition, in Niger the ruling MNSD party leaders retained a formal role in the process. As a result, the design of the new institutions began with sharp clashes

138

between the ruling regime and the opposition forces—each trying to have the upper hand over the process. Indeed, the initial prominence of the authoritarian regime in the process and the absence of clear political alternatives opened the door to a series of tensions. From the outset, the transitional institutions appeared plagued by internal rivalries and personal quarrels. Taking advantage of the weakness of the regime, organized groups such as students and workers unions refused to compromise and tried to put forward their claims in a series of strikes and protests.

Consequently, “unable to define a vision [for the transition] and incapable of enforcing its decisions, the state lost all authority and credibility” (Raynal 1993, 69).22

Unlike in Mali where the transitional government was able to manage the aspirations of different social sectors and build consensus around the new institutions, Nigerien transitional authorities gradually lost control over the process and were forced to aggregate disparate demands by pressure groups. In addition, and again in contrast to Mali, the National Conference was not fully inclusive of all social groups in terms of its representation; a number of civil society organizations and religious associations were excluded from the process. As a result, and like in Mali, the new constitution that emerged from the National Conference emphasized the secular character of state institutions and failed to meet the adhesion of some religious actors. As

I will examine in detail in the chapter 6, the circumstances under which the transition unfolded and the power relations between contending forces during the process of negotiation leading up to the choice of the rules of the game partly determined the different political fortune between

Mali and Niger and explain why the new institutions did not lock Niger into an enduring path towards democracy. Villalón and Idrissa (2005, 29) argue:

The paradox of Niger’s instability along with its seeming extraordinary commitment to an elusive democracy can only be understood in terms of the re-

22 This is my translation of Raynal’s citation from French to English.

139

configuration of political forces in the crucial juncture of the early 1990s, especially by the process of the National Conference and by twin aspects of its legacy. On the one hand has been the rise to prominence of a civilian political elite, which is fatally divided about the sharing of power and the institutions for doing so. On the other hand, this elite has demonstrated itself to be fundamentally united around a shared normative conception of democracy, but one which places it at odds with strong social forces that have themselves been created and politicized by the period of democratic experimentation.

Repeated Democratic Breakdown

The successful organization of a constitutional referendum and the adoption a new electoral code, followed by the holding of relatively free and fair elections marked a first and significant democratic step for Niger. However, the nature of elite coalition politics that followed, and most importantly the institutional configuration of the Nigerien Third republic— especially the semi-presidential system that allowed for “cohabitation”—continued to feed political instability, leaving the country prone to recurrent military takeover. When in 1993

Mahamane Ousmane—the leader of the Convention démocratique et sociale (CDS-Rahama)— became the country’s first democratically elected president after the National Conference, there was an expectation that Niger had strongly committed to a path of democratization. But, the

Third Republic was unsuccessful in overcoming elite rivalries, compounded by the combined effect of the semi-presidential system and the electoral system for legislative elections adopted by the National Conference.

The electoral system was designed to guarantee the inclusiveness of electoral rules and combined different formulas. A party-list PR system with the highest remainders formula was applied in eight ordinary districts whereas a single member plurality (SMP) voting system was provided for eight other special districts where there is only one seat available. While this combination allowed twelve newly created and small political parties to win legislative seats, it opened the door to government instability. The fact that the new president formed a ruling

140

coalition—namely the Alliance des forces du changement (AFC) with include nine other political parties—while leaving the former ruling party (e.g. the Mouvement national pour la société de développement—MNSD-Nassara) in the opposition did not augured positively for political prospects in this semi-presidential system. As we will see in chapter eight, this institutional configuration was to provoke a crisis and prompted further electoral reform.

On September 28, 1994, President Ousmane issued a decree that reduced the powers of the Prime minister—a position held by Mahamadou Issoufou, leader of the Parti Nigérien pour la démocratie et le socialisme (PNDS-Tarayya). When the opposition withdrew from the AFC governing coalition, President Ousmane lost his parliamentary majority. In response, he called early legislative elections in January 1995. The gamble did not pay off, however, and Ousmane ended up in a situation of “cohabitation” with a rival prime minister appointed by a new parliamentary majority, composed of representatives from PNDS-Tarayya and its old opponent, the MNSD-Nassara. The subsequent conflicts between President Ousmane and a government backed by a rival parliamentary majority led to an institutional deadlock (Maignan 2000, 93).

This ultimately provided a rational for Colonel Ibrahim Baré Maïnassara, the presidential

Chief-of-staff, to seize power in a military coup on January 27, 1996—pointing to political instability and economic hardship as a justification (Decoudras and Gazibo 1997). The coup initially drew support from large segments of the population, including civil society organization and opposition parties, as a way out of a stalemated crisis. It also reflected widespread economic discontent and persistent power aspirations within the military. In any case, this first democratic breakdown in Niger contrasts with Senegal and especially Mali, where President Konaré was able to overcome the first institutional deadlock in 1994 by relying on the formula of an

“inclusive government”.

141

To attempt to legitimize the coup, Maïnassara, who became the leader of the Conseil de

Salut National (CSN) convened what he labeled a Forum national pour le renouveau démocratique (FNRD). Headed by a Conseil des Sages (Council of Wise Men) entrusted to no less than the former President Ali Saïbou, this Forum had the mandate to propose new institutions (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 39). As we will discuss in detail in chapter eight, with the justification of avoiding future scenarios of cohabitation resulting from the election of list candidates from small parties in the parliament, the electoral system was modified; a PR with the highest average formula was replaced by PR with the largest remainder method (Di Lorenzo and

Sborgi 2001).

In response to international pressure to return the country to democracy, the transitional government called for a constitutional referendum on May 1996, marking the transition to the

Fourth Republic under the new institutional arrangements. Against all expectations, Maïnassara backed away from his promise to hand over power to democratically elected civilians and decided to stand in the presidential elections, which he managed to win in July 1996 (Decoudras and Gazibo 1997). In response, the opposition parties which came together under the Front pour la restauration et la défense de la démocratie (FRDD) boycotted the legislative elections in

November, thereby allowing Maïnassara’s newly formed party, the Ralliement pour la démocratie et le progrés (RDP) a large and easy victory (Di Lorenzo and Sborgi 2001, 471).

Although President Maïnassara succeeded in improving relationships with both the

World Bank and the IMF following the questionable elections, his two years of repeated violations of basic civil liberties and superficially economic improvement led to growing popular dissatisfaction, a fact that no doubt provoked his assassination during another military coup in

April 1999 (Gazibo 2005, 82). The conditions of the coup and Maïnassara’s assassination (which

142

was officially labeled a “tragic accident”) remain unclear, but Colonel Douada Mallam Wanké was to emerge in its aftermath as head of a Conseil de réconciliation nationale (CRN). Wanké quickly convened a committee to drafted a new constitution for the Nigerien Fifth Republic, which was approved by referendum shortly afterwards. The electoral systems for both presidential and legislative elections remained unchanged, though the number of parliamentarian seats increased significantly, going from 83 to 113 (Baudais and Sborgi 2006, 162). That the interim government held parliamentary and presidential elections within the announced deadlines, and even allowed the ousted leaders of the RDP to participate in the elections, were major accomplishments for Niger in terms of attempting to regain the country’s political stability and return to democratic institutions.

The elections held in October and November 1999 brought to power the former military officer Mamadou Tandja who headed a coalition formed by his own party the MNSD (the former single party), and the CDS-Rahama , the party of the first democratically elected president in

1992. This coalition remained relatively stable until 2004 ,and Tandja “stood firm against serious challenges to civilian rule, as in early August 2002 when an army mutiny in the Diffa region threatened to spread to Niamey” (Baudais and Sborgi 2006: 161). In 2004, Tandja was reelected as president against Mahamadou Issoufou, thanks to a coalition between the MNSD (the incumbent party), the CDS-Rahama (the second largest party in parliament), and a number of smaller parties. Tandja’s 2004 election marked the first democratic re-election of a president in

Niger’s history. Although the ensuing of smooth elections showed much evidence of democratic progress, significant setbacks occurred down the road.

In an effort to mitigate ongoing political tensions, the regime created a Conseil National de Dialogue Politique (CNDP), which served as a permanent “framework for dialogue” among

143

parliamentary and extra-parliamentary political parties on the most controversial issues, including electoral reform (Baudais and Sborgi 2006, 161). This, along with power-sharing formula between the main players—Tandja as President , along with Hama Amadou and

Mahamane Ousmane as, respectively, Prime Minister and president of the National Assembly— contributed to ensuring the relative stability of the country until 2006.

This stability, however, proved fragile, and ongoing political tensions as Tandja began to near the end of his second term led to a new crisis period in May 2007 around allegations of corruption in the government. Prime Minister Hama Amadou, who was perceived as a potential successor of Tandja, was tried and sentenced to twelve months in prison on charges of embezzlement, a fact which also disqualified him from running as a candidate in the 2009 elections (Baudais and Chauzal 2010, 3). Moreover, while all political parties and most of the civic associations advocated dialogue as an inclusive decision-making mechanism, President

Tandja became increasingly authoritarian (Hartmann 2016, 91), isolating himself from the rest of the political class and building strong bonds with traditional leaders and the military.

Claiming popular demands for continuity (“tazartché”), in December 2008, Tandja unilaterally announced his intention to propose an alteration to the Constitution of Niger’s Fifth

Republic via a referendum in order to extend his term of office by three years. In the face of strong resistance from opposition parties and Niger’s pro-democracy movements, and confronted with institutional challenges to this effort, Tandja dissolved the National Assembly in May 2009, and subsequently appointed a new Constitutional Court after the previous one declared the proposed referendum unconstitutional. This enabled him to push forward with a constitutional referendum in August 2009, but one boycotted by all major opposition groups which came together under a broad coalition known as the Coordination des Forces Démocratiques pour la

144

République (CFDR). Tandja’s undemocratic move also sparked sanctions from international donors amid drought and economic hardship (Mueller 2013). In the tense context of political and social crisis, the army once again seized power and removed Tandja from office on February 18,

2010 (Baudais and Sborgi 2012).

The leaders of the coup formed the Conseil suprême pour la restauration de la démocratie (CSRD) led by the command of Major Salou Djibo and dissolved the government and suspended the short-lived institutions of what Tandja had labeled the “Sixth Republic.”

Tellingly, this coup mirrored that of 1999, having taken place with the declared intent of ending an illegitimate government and putting the country back on the democratic path, an in fact doing so. Like with the previous coup, it allowed a new redistribution of power positions among civil and military actors. In this case the CSRD was an exclusively military-led institution, but which sided with the main political actors who had opposed Tandja’s efforts to stay in power. Members of Tandja’s former regime were excluded from participating in the institutions of the transition, including the Constitutional Council, and—more importantly—the National Consultative

Council named by the CSRD. This latter institution was designed as an advisory board, designed to give opinions on the draft constitution, the electoral code, the political party charter, the official status of the opposition, and the public information charter. The elaboration of these fundamental documents was entrusted to an appointed Comité des textes fondamentaux.

On March 12, 2011, after a twelve-month transition, the junta organized elections for the third time in two decades. Mahamadou Issoufou emerged as the winner in the second round of the presidential election, defeating Seini Oumarou, the candidate of the MNSD, which was allowed to contest the election (Baudais and Chauzal 2010, 9). Although the inauguration of the newly-elected president on April 7, 2011, once again returned Niger to civilian rule, the country

145

still faces the challenge of making its political institutions resilient. Episodes of instability started to surface in August of 2013 when President Issoufou—reacting to a declining climate of trust and confidence within the governing coalition, and worried about losing the majority in the

National Assembly—proposed a government of “national unity”, which he invited the opposition to join. But the main opposition parties decline the offer, and attempted to create a new coalition, hoping to put the regime in a situation of cohabitation in a scenario similar to that of 1996. In a complicated set of political maneuvers, President Issoufou managed to divide the opposition coalition and drew key support from various opposition factions, subsequently regaining his parliamentary majority (Walraven 2016, 132). Following this episode, the government adopted a rigid posture against the opposition, refusing to negotiate on various issues including those concerning the organization of the elections scheduled for 2016.

The presidential election on February 21, 2016, turned out to be one of Niger’s most contentious polls in recent political history. Hama Amadou, the main challenger to the incumbent president, was in prison throughout the electoral process—accused of connection with an illegal network trafficking babies from Nigeria. The perspective of a run-off between him and the incumbent Issoufou Mahamadou—respectively winners of 17% and of 48% of the vote in the first round—momentarily defused tensions. But the Coalition de l'opposition pour l'alternance

(COPA 2016) boycotted the run-off ballot on March 20 and took a radical stance after the

Constitutional Court validated what they deemed the fraudulent results of the first round of the elections.23 The boycott led to a landslide victory for Issoufou, who won some 92 % of the vote,

23 Aljazeera, March 9, 2016. “Opposition coalition to boycott Niger runoff poll.” http://www.aljazeera.com/news/2016/03/opposition-coalition-boycott-niger-runoff-poll-160309050119175.html (Accessed October 11, 2016).

146

but this flawed victory set the stage for continued contestation and a post-election politics.24

Given the circumstances underpinning the electoral process, the 2016 election appears as a missed opportunity for political actors to take advantage of institutional arbitration of political tensions.

Conclusion

This chapter has traced the political history of Senegal, Niger, and Mali after independence—from the non-democratic era (1960-90) to the period of democratic experimentation since 1991. As we have seen, these three countries have experienced quite similar political developments, despite the fact that they display variations in the institutional make up which has had a bearing on the trajectory of each country. Obviously, Senegal stands out as a distinct case, marked by continuous evolution rather than rupture. This country moved from a single party regime (1960-1974) to a limited multiparty system (1974-1981), and then became respectively a dominant party system (1981-2000) and a full multiparty system (1981- present). Senegal’s exceptionalism might be partly understood as the result of the legitimization mechanism of the state played by the Sufi orders, the political neutrality of the military, and the long process of incremental institutional reform undertaken by various regimes in response to political and social crises. These factors have contributed to making Senegalese democratic institutions resilient over time.

Although Mali and Niger each underwent processes of democratic transition in the early

1990s—in each case through National Conferences during which constitutions were (re)designed to establish democratic institutions and norms—they have experienced different political

24 Bbc, March 28, 2016. « Niger : l'opposition ‘prête à dialoguer’ ». http://www.bbc.com/afrique/region/2016/03/160328_niger-opp (Accessed November 12, 2016)

147

fortunes in their efforts to make these institutions enduring. While Mali seemed to be functioning under democratic institutions starting in 1991, the political dynamics of the process resulted in increasing state fragility along the way, eventually bringing about a breakdown of its democratic foundations in 2012. Despite this unfortunate and dramatic collapse, however, the country has quickly returned to debates about building and strengthening democratic institutions. Niger, by contrast, is a seemingly “textbook case” of chronic institutional instability under permanent praetorian surveillance. This political trajectory is partly the result of a long lasting military political culture but also the inability of political actors to resort to institutional arbitration of democratic institutions. The propensity of Nigerien people to expect the army to act as arbiter of the democratic game in instances of institutional deadlock is what locked Niger in the path of repeated returns to democracy. Indeed, Niger has constantly come back to trying to build institutions and has in fact built better ones than Mali ever had, but the problem has been their non-respect.

These different political trajectories both affect and are shaped by, in one way or the other, the prospects and outcome of institutional reforms. In fact, at each step of their political development Senegal, Mali, and Niger have implemented various political reforms in the name of strengthening their democratic institutions. As the political trajectories sketched above have suggested, one key aspect of these reform experiences have been changes in electoral rules. The politics surrounding these changes constitute the focus of the chapters that follow. The political trajectory of each country is crucially important in setting the conditions for subsequent developments of electoral reforms.

148

CHAPTER 5 THE POLITICS OF IMPOSED ELECTORAL REFORMS

Introduction

This chapter returns to two moments in the political trajectory of Senegal, to analyze in more depth the politics surrounding two episodes of what I will call imposed electoral reform.

The first one is the authorization under single-party rule of a controlled political liberalization

(1974-1976), and the shift from the winner-take-all electoral system to a proportional representation (PR) electoral system in 1978. The second episode is the lifting of restrictions on political parties in 1981, coupled with a change from this PR system to a mixed (parallel) system in 1983 under dominant party rule. When these reforms were implemented respectively under

Leopold Sédar Senghor and his successor, Abdou Diouf, both incumbents enjoyed a political monopoly over the system. In both instances, the dominant Socialist Party which could expect to regularly win legislative elections under the existing electoral system, and that had the majority in the parliament to implement their initial preferences, nevertheless introduced more proportional electoral systems that caused them to lose seats in parliament. These cases are puzzling in light of the literature hypothesizing that PR is likely to be adopted only when the previous electoral system is no longer a winning arrangement for incumbent parties. Why do ruling parties that expect electoral victories under majoritarian electoral system implement proportional representation, or more proportional alternatives of mixed systems, to give up some legislative seats in the absence of electoral threat? When do parties designing electoral systems relinquish seat-maximization?

This chapter approaches electoral reforms from a holistic standpoint and demonstrates how changes in the electoral systems are empirically related to changes in electoral procedures and institutions. To be sure, the reason why these reforms where implemented depended on the

149

type of challenges the regime was facing. While Senghor changed electoral rules in a context of heightened extra-institutional threats to his tenure by the opposition, Diouf implemented changes to deal with the growing electoral threats in the run up to his first election as an incumbent candidate. In both cases, these reforms unfolded as part of a two-step chronological process.

First, both Senghor and Diouf changed electoral procedures regulating political parties and candidates in a way that divided the opposition. Second, they then reformed the electoral system to provide some semblance of fairness and inclusiveness. However, in various ways they manipulated procedures associated with the conduct of elections, and retained control over the administration of the electoral process. In both cases, as I will demonstrate in what follows, the combination of these reforms was motivated both in response to various threats and in attempts to enhance the prospects of survival of the ruling regime in the political system.

Imposed Electoral Reform from Above under Single-party Rule

Over the course of the 1970s, the ruling and dominant party, the UPS (which later became the Parti socialiste), used its majority in the parliament to introduce a limited multiparty system and to change the winner-take-all system for legislative elections into a proportional representation system, while maintaining the prerogatives of the Ministry of Interior in the administration of the electoral process. These reforms were primarily triggered by mounting pressures from the workers’ unions and student organizations in a context when the traditional support of Sufi leaders to the regime was at its lowest. Although these changes in electoral rules were imposed by the ruling party, they were in line with key demands of the opposition for more inclusive political and electoral systems. In order to understand the process by which these reforms unfolded and how they contributed to mitigating opposition extra-institutional threats to the Senghor regime, one needs to take a closer look at the specific political dynamics and the actions of the incumbent party during these episodes.

150

As noted in chapter four, from Senegal’s independence in 1960 to the late sixties, the ruling party—the UPS—was able to maintain a firm grip on the country’s politics through coercion and unilateral institutional reforms in response to various crises (Zuccarelli 1988, 92).

Senghor’s classical approach of “carrot and stick” proved effective in containing the revolutionary potential of the marginal clandestine leftist parties and the student unions which continued to oppose his regime, and his policies ensured that they did not pose a serious threat to the survival of the UPS in the early years after independence (Beck 2008, 56). When in 1962 the parliamentarian system faced an institutional crisis in the opposition between President Senghor and Prime Minister Dia, the latter was arrested and convicted of an attempted “constitutional coup.” A new constitution was quickly adopted in 1963, establishing a centralized presidential system and eliminating the post of prime minister. In addition, Senghor instituted a plurality winner-take-all formula based on a party list in a single nationwide constituency (Diop 2009,

187; Fall 2007; Sy 2009). As a distinguished Senegalese academic notes, “this meant that the list that won the elections with only one vote cast won all the seats. The opposition parties had no chance of winning a seat.”1

Although the new constitution recognized the principle of a multiparty system, the ruling party in fact inevitably held all 80 seats in the National Assembly. When serious rioting broke out in Dakar after the 1963 elections, a number of opposition parties were banned, while others were absorbed into the UPS via the cooptation of their leaders. The fusion of the Bloc Populaire

Sénégalais (Senegalese Popular Bloc—BPS) with the UPS the same year and the fact that the

Parti du Regroupement Africain-Sénégal (African Regroupment Party-Senegal PRAS—

Sénégal)—which controlled part of the labor movement—accepted to merge with the ruling

1 Interview with Professor Ismaïla Madior Fall, currently legal advisor to the Senegalese President Macky Sall. Dakar (Senegal), July 2014.

151

party in June 1966 thus assured the hegemony of Senghor’s party (Hesseling 1985, 256-7;

Zuccarelli 1988, 97-98).

However, Senghor’s decision to effectively put an end in this way to the existing political pluralism that dated back to the colonial period eventually backfired, exposing his regime to acts of defiance and extra-institutional pressures inconceivable a few years early. In the absence of formal channels for expression, the clandestine opposition—essentially made up of parties from the political left—used labor unions and student organizations in their attempt to break the hegemony of the single-party regime. The wave of disenchantment with the government started on the campus of the University of Dakar in 1966 (Hesseling 1985, 255; Diop 1992, 435). While student unions were fighting against the assimilationist educational model patterned on the

French system, left-wing parties were taking a more critical stance denouncing the regime’s

“neocolonial policies” and, in particular, Senegal’s strong political and economic dependence upon France. In this confrontational political environment which was aggravated by the assassination of Demba Diop (a political leader of the ruling party) in February 1967,2 the opposition discontent increasingly resonated among the urban workforce and then spreading to the rural population as economic problems grew more severe (Hesseling 1985, 257; Fall 1989;

Diop 1992).

The continued fall in global groundnut prices—Senegal’s main export crop—resulted in the intense rural dissatisfaction described as the “peasant malaise.” (Coulon et al. 1989, 152).

This in turn affected the traditional patronage relations between the UPS and the marabouts or

Sufi clerics—the regime’s main channels for popular participation beyond the party—whose

2 Demba Diop was a member of the ruling Union Progressiste Sénégalaise (UPS). He served as a Minister of Youth and Sport under President Léopold Sédar Senghor. He was also Mayor of Mbour (a city in the Thiès Region) from 1966 to 1967. Diop was assassinated on 3 February 1967 by a partisan of his political rival from the ruling party. See Camara, Ousmane. 2010. Mémoires d'un juge africain: itinéraire d'un homme libre. Paris, Karthala. p. 158.

152

income was heavily depended upon the peanut economy (Diop 1992, 437; Beck 1997, 12). In this context of declining state revenues, the decision by the Senegalese government to reduce the number and value of monthly scholarships provoked widespread discontent among students, who went on strike at the beginning of May 1968 (Bathily 1992; Fall 1989, 61). The repression of the movement and the subsequent alliance between students and the Union nationale des travailleurs du Sénégal (National Union of Senegalese Workers—UNTS)—the main labor body which until then had been affiliated with the UPS—provoked one of the most serious political crisis since independence (Zuccarelli 1988, 113).

Although by the end of 1969 Senghor was able to regain control of the situation through a combination of social reforms and coercion, the political climate remained quite tense into the mid-1970s. Despite the inclination of the ruling party to use force to contain opposition groups and maintain order in the aftermath of the events of May 1968, Senghor demonstrated great political skills and refrained from relying only on sustained violence to guarantee the stability of his regime (Beck 1997, 10). Instead, he took the advice of the “Club Nation et Development”—a prominent think-tank created by the UPS in 1969—which had suggested a series of institutional reforms. Throughout the 1970s, Senghor thus made various concessions; not only did he delegate executive power to a Prime Minister, he also gradually liberalized the political arena and reformed the electoral system (Zuccarelli 1988, 121-22).

Diffusing Extra-institutional Threat through Multipartism

Virtually all the electoral reforms implemented during the 1970s were motivated by

Senghor’s concern about the extra-institutional pressures applied by the opposition, but they can be described as imposed reforms since the dominant UPS party unilaterally used its super majority in the parliament to put them in motion. These reforms were primarily meant to mitigate the destabilizing potential of the opposition and to allow the regime to keep its grip on the

153

political system. The first step toward diffusing opposition pressures was taken in 1970 when the regime proposed constitutional amendments that were approved in a referendum. The most notable revisions included the limitation of presidential terms (two five-year terms), the restoration of the post of Prime Minister, which was then entrusted to a young technocrat from his administration, Abdou Diouf (Beck 2008, 57) who was later to become Senghor’s successor.

Obviously, threats from the opposition did not just fade away after these institutional reforms.

They persisted at the time when the traditional religious support to the regime was at its lowest.

While marabouts had a stronger hold on the rural populations, they had little influence on the rioting workers and students in urban areas like Dakar, which provided the effective base of opposition support. In his attempt to weaken this urban opposition Senghor dissolved the largest and oldest trade unions (e.g. the UNTS) in June 1971 and replaced them with the Conféderation

Nationale des Travailleurs Sénégalais (National Confederation of Senegalese Workers—CNTS) which was now allied with the ruling UPS party. Nevertheless, the continued deterioration of the social climate led to conflicts within the CNTS itself, which eventually split into several groups, some of which joined the opposition (Fall 1989, 65; Nelson et al. 1974, 202).

Though the regime took a few economic measures intended to buy support, such as increasing the salaries of civil servants, the fact that it also imposed restrictions on the political freedoms of candidates and ran unopposed for the presidential and parliamentary elections of

1968 and 1973 did not help to temper the social climate. It became clear to Senghor that confining the political opposition underground was the major threat, and that guaranteeing the stability of his regime would require loosening his grip on the system and liberalizing the political process. Thus in 1974, not only did Senghor granted a general amnesty to political prisoners, including the former Prime Minister Mamadou Dia who had been arrested following

154

the 1962 political crisis, but he also attempted to move away from the single-party system by allowing Abdoulaye Wade (a former member of the UPS) to create the Parti Démocratique

Sénégalais (Senegalese Democratic Party—PDS). This raised expectations, but at the same time did not satisfy the demands of the opposition, and especially the clandestine leftist parties, which began to consider new forms of violent opposition (Zuccarelli 1988, 133-34; Diop 1992, 497).3

To contain the potential threat of political instability, the National Assembly unanimously passed another constitutional amendment in 1975, specifically authorizing three political parties reflecting three officially designated ideologies (Beck 2008, 57; Mozaffar and Vengroff 2002,

605). Senghor’s own UPS, which was renamed the Parti Socialiste (Socialist Party—PS), kept the “democratic socialist” option for itself. The Parti African de l’Indépendence (African

Independence Party—PAI) founded by Majhmout Diop in 1957 but forbidden in 1960, was now reauthorized to represent the “Marxist-Leninist” alternative. The PDS assumed the position of the prescribed “liberal democratic” party, even though Abdoulaye Wade had originally described his party as Socialisme travailliste (Labor Party) (Hesseling 1985, 276-77, Zuccarelli 1988, 135).

It is clear that this reform to liberalize the political system, while triggered by outside pressures, was self-consciously designed by the dominant single-party regime and imposed upon the opposition. By relying on the absolute majority of the PS in the parliament to unilaterally make provisions that allowed opposition but also restricted the number of legally recognized political parties, Senghor was able to weaken the opposition in two different ways. First, he prevented a unified front of clandestine left-wing political parties that might threaten the political tenure of the PS. For instance, the fact that Senghor pardoned Majhmout Diop—the historical leader of the PAI who then returned to Senegal after nearly fifteen years of exile—and officially

3 This is particularly the case of the small but active Marxist parties like And-Jëf/Mouvement Révolutionnaire pour une Démocratie Nouvelle (And-Jëf political party/Revolutionary Movement for a New Democracy—AJ/MRDN).

155

recognized him as the leading figure of the extreme left-wing contributed to dividing the party.

Indeed, some members of the party (particularly some younger militants like Amath Dansokho and Semou Pathé Gueye) left the PAI to create the Parti de l’indépendance et du travail (PIT) which operated underground. Other former members of the original PAI went on to participate in the formation of the Rassemblement national démocratique (RND) in 1976 (see Diop et Diouf

1990, 219-20). Secondly, Senghor’s political engineering created a “loyal opposition” which became an integral part of the political system while leaving the remaining opposition groups with no legal status (Beck 1997, 12). For example, the ruling regime did not political recognition to the RND of Senghor’s main potential challenger, Cheikh Anta Diop, who drew support from the Dakar intellectual left as well as from rural area and members of the Mouride Sufi order.4

In the year leading up to the February 1978 general elections, the PS faced no serious electoral threat since Cheikh Anta Diop—the only potential challenger capable of rallying factions of the illegal opposition around the RND—had no legal party. In this context it was even more surprising that, in May 1977, the ruling party decided to change the electoral system, shifting away from the previous winner-take-all formula introduced in 1963 to a strict proportional representation (PR) system with party list in a single national constituency.

Imposing a PR System to Ensure Symbolic Representation of the Opposition

Like the 1976 reform authorizing a limited and controlled multiparty system, the change to a party-list PR system was imposed by the ruling party, which then held all 80 seats in the

4 Cheikh Anta Diop was an important Senegalese intellectual (a philosopher and anthropologist) and political figure. He was the director of the radiocarbon laboratory at the Institute Fondamental de L'Afrique Noir (IFAN), a French cultural and scientific institute founded in Dakar in 1938. Diop was also known for his opposition to Senghor. He had created three political parties in the course of his two decade of political activities. In September 1961, he formed the Bloc des Masses Sénégalaises (BMS), which in October 1963 was banned for opposing Senghor's efforts to consolidate power. Diop then moved on to form the Front National Sénégalais (FNS), which was also dissolved in the following year (in 1964). These parties represented the rightist opposition. On February 6, 1976, Diop created the Rassemblement National Démocratique (RND) and became the Secretary General of this party which obtained a legal status in June 1981 following the removal of remaining constraints on party activity. In 1987, the University of Dakar was renamed Cheikh Anta Diop University in his honor.

156

National Assembly. As with the existing system, the implementation of this PR system entailed no electoral districts, since the whole country stood as a single nationwide constituency. It also meant that there was still only one list of candidates representing each of the three legally authorized political parties. The allocation of seats, however, was proportional, based on the total number of votes given to each party in the country as a whole. In addition to the change in the electoral system, the regime took the decision to increase the number of seats of elected members of the National Assembly from 80 to 100 (Mozaffar and Vengroff 2002, 605). It was obvious that while this reform would break the PS monopoly, it would not threaten its dominance given that “the new legal parties had no national appeal and were suffering from being too ideologically dispersed.”5 Yet no opposition party opposed this change. As Fall argues,

“There were no major disagreements on the electoral system. When Senghor took the decision to change the voting system in 1978, the opposition applauded because the proportional representation system favors small parties. Opposition parties were delighted to enter the parliament.”6

While the PR system was welcomed by the opposition, their main concern however shifted to the transparency of electoral procedures—given that the ruling PS still controlled the governmental electoral management body, namely the Minister of the Interior. In November

1977 this Ministry sent a circular letter to electoral officials instructing them that the use of a voting booth was “optional” (Fall 2007, 93, Hesseling 1985, 280-81). Wade complained that this was in blatant violation of the constitutional guarantee of the secret ballot. The Supreme Court received his appeal and responded on February 21, 1978, declaring itself not competent to review

5 Interview with Professor Babacar Gueye, a government and law professor at Cheikh Anta Diop University. Dakar, (Senegal), July 2014.

6 Interview with Professor Ismaïla Madior Fall, currently legal advisor to the Senegalese President Macky Sall. Dakar (Senegal), July 2014.

157

the constitutionality of the electoral law and adjudicate on the circular letter from the Minister of the Interior (Zuccarelli 1988, 148). The issue was thus not settled and the elections went on under the Ministry’s control. With the PS the only party with a national reach in the February 26,

1978 race, the outcome of the elections was a foregone conclusion: the PS received a large majority with 81.7% of votes (82 seats out 100). However, it no longer maintained its monopoly in the parliament as the PDS gained 18 seats (Zuccarelli 1988, 144; Beck 1997; Diop 2009, 188).

The outcome of these elections raises the question of why a single party regime that was likely to win all seats under the previous majoritarian system would decide to implement a party-list PR system at a time when there was no electoral threat.

The intertwining of various factors makes it difficult to clearly advance one single reason for the particular decision of the regime to implement a PR system: several alternative explanations are conceivable. It may be that Senghor’s regime recognized that they enjoyed an outstanding comparative advantage against the newly created opposition as far as electoral competition and support were concerned. Even though the traditional patronage relations between the PS and the religious elite was undergoing some changes throughout the 1970s, the regime was still able in the end to rely upon the Sufi leaders and their disciples for electoral support (Fatton 1987, 91). Although this surely played a role in Senghor’s decision, the most important factor that may have motivated the regime to shift from a winner-take-all electoral system is that Senghor wanted to maintain some level of consistency that reflected the initial reforms that liberalized the political game. Indeed, “even with the political opening, the PS remained an ultra-dominant party. This meant that if the decision to liberalize the political game in 1976 subsequent to authorization of three political parties was not extended by the electoral system, there would be no significant change. In other words, if the political game was opened

158

while the plurality winner-take-all formula was retained, challenges to the system would continue.”7

It thus appears, retrospectively, that the reform of the electoral system allowed the regime to guarantee a symbolic representation of the legal opposition and prevent it from using extra- institutional means against the ruling party. Given that the regime had control over the administration of elections, it could if necessary rely on “political support through voter enticement, coercion, and electoral fraud” (Beck 1997, 11) to control the final outcome. During the first competitive parliamentarian elections following the return of the multiparty system in

1976, then, the regime could be sure that the opposition had no real chance of winning the majority of seats.

Opposition Pressures to Improve Electoral Procedures

The fact that the regime controlled the administration of elections and the institutions in charge of adjudicating electoral disputes generated a perception of electoral malpractice, and most political parties declared the February 1978 elections fraudulent. This explains why the victory of Senghor and his party in those elections sparked post-electoral contention, despite the fact that they resulted in the end of the PS monopoly and for the opposition to be represented in

Parliament for the first time. Abdoulaye Wade, who had been voicing concerns about the integrity of the electoral process prior to the elections, filed an appeal with the Supreme Court in the hopes that the court would invalidate the election results (Zuccarelli 1988, 148). His application listed ten grievances, most of which were associated with fraudulent methods used in the polling stations. The most relevant to our argument was the claim of a contradiction between the constitution, which provided that “the vote must be secret,” and the elections code, which

7 Interview with Professor Ismaïla Madior Fall, currently legal advisor to the Senegalese President Macky Sall. Dakar (Senegal), July 2014.

159

stated that “the use of a voting booth is optional.” (Fall 2007, 93) On March 13, 1978, Wade’s application was rejected in its entirety by the Court, which declared it unfounded for lack of evidence (Hesseling 1985, 280-81).

The controversy over the secrecy of the ballot continued until December 28, 1978 when the PS-dominated National Assembly decided to amend the constitution in order to allegedly solve the controversy and avoid future discrepancies. The controversial article of the constitution was thus revised, and the new provision stated that elections must be “secret under conditions to be fixed by the (electoral) law,” which ensure that the polling site would be equipped with one or more voting booths (Zuccarelli 1988, 148; Beck 2008, 58). In another component of this constitutional revision, A fourth political parry to officially represent the “nationalist=- democratic” ideology was prescribed, and the Mouvement Republicain Sénégalais (MRS) was created and authorized to fill that position (Fall 2007, 94). This reform was clearly meant to contain the rise of Wade as a political figure, and to simultaneously further mitigate the revolutionary potential of the clandestine opposition which has started to organize itself under the Coordination de l'opposition sénégalaise unie (COSU) since November 1978 (Diop et Diouf

1990, 214).

In sum, it is clear that one cannot dissociate an explanation for the reform of the electoral system from changes in electoral procedures and structures. The reform of electoral procedures

(particularly changes in rules regulating parties) was initiated when the UPS (now PS) regime was operating under conditions of heightened extra-institutional pressures. It was a political response to a profound popular desire for change. By establishing a controlled multiparty system,

Senghor succeeded in containing the extra-institutional threat and preserving the leading position of his party in a transitioning political system “without jeopardizing its political tenure” (Beck

160

1997, 11). If Senghor was subsequently willing to replace the winner-take-all with a party-list

PR and give up some legislative seats, it was because the return to a multiparty system had weakened domestic opposition while ensuring the continued political dominance—if not monopoly—of the PS. Insofar as the PS was able to secure the next electoral victory, Senghor could afford to concede some seats to the opposition in the parliament to guarantee symbolic representation. This allowed him to both claim legitimacy and preserve the leading position of his party in a political system undergoing fundamental changes.

Obviously, by democratic standards the overall performance of the electoral institution was flawed since the ruling party controlled not only the structures in charge of the administration of the electoral process, but also the institution responsible for arbitrating electoral disputes. This generated discontent mostly from the PDS and its leader, Abdoulaye

Wade, who pressured for a reexamination of the existing institutional arrangements. In any event, the 1978 elections contributed to legitimizing a regime whose leaders had maneuvered, throughout the reforms of the 1970s, to ensure the political tenure of the ruling party after

Senghor’s departure from the political scene. This was made clear by other change instituted at the time; not only did the revised constitution in 1976 allow Senghor to run for another term, it also permitted the Prime Minister to assume the presidency in the event of a vacancy during the term of office (Sy 2009, 123; Mozaffar and Vengroff 2002, 605).

Imposed Electoral Reform under Dominant Party Rule

In the early 1980s, two further important electoral reforms were carried out following the transfer of power from Senghor to Abdou Diouf, and in the next context of dominant rather than single party rule. These included the removal of restrictions on the allowed number of political parties in April 1981, and a new reform of the electoral system which included a package of changes, including a shift from the PR system adopted in 1978 to a mixed (parallel) system in

161

1983. Unlike the previous reforms under Senghor, these new reforms were implemented by the

PS-dominated National Assembly in a context of decreasing opposition extra-institutional pressures, but of a growing electoral threat.

When Diouf assumed the presidency in 1981 after Senghor resigned from office, he inherited a country that was economically on its knees and under intense pressure from widespread protests. The economic crisis which had been going on since the end of the 1970s had dramatically escalated by the early 1980s as a result of the adverse consequences of structural adjustment programs. Repeated strikes by teachers’ unions—particularly the Syndicat unique et démocratique des enseignants du sénégal (SUDES)—led to a paralysis of the educational system. It was in this climate of economic malaise that Senghor announced that he would resign from the presidency on December 31, 1980 (Diop 1992: 489; Hesseling 1985: 287).

Under the 1976 revised provisions to the constitution, the presidency passed automatically to

Prime Minister Abdou Diouf, who had in fact been groomed for the position over the previous decade. As Diouf was sworn as President on January 1, 1981, there was a high level of uncertainty as to his capacity to consolidate power, and the growing opposition parties, most of which were still illegal, challenged his legitimacy (Mozaffar and Vengroff 2002). However, the fact that Senghor stepped down two years before the end of his term of office provided Diouf— who also assumed the position of secretary-general of the PS—with the necessary time to consolidate his leadership position within and outside the party.

Although the opposition parties were very active in the early 1980s, the Socialist Party still enjoyed a dominant position in the political system. The political reforms introduced by

Senghor in the 1970s, however, had also led to changes in the composition of the opposition, and a number of small and illegal left-wing opposition groups had emerged and in November 1978

162

organized themselves under the name Coordination de l'opposition sénégalaise unie (COSU).

The coordination faced the challenge of trying to bridge their deep internal ideological rifts

(Diop et Diouf 1990: 214), but they nevertheless provided an outlet for discontent—mostly in urban centers like Dakar. This was particularly the case of Cheikh Anta Diop’s group which had become very active in the labor union movement.

In large part to mitigate the destabilizing potential of teachers’ and students’ unions, in

1981 the regime convened what was labeled the États Généraux de l'Éducation et de la

Formation (EGEF). This forum brought together different strata of the population and social sectors, and appointed a Commission nationale de réforme de l'éducation et de la formation

(CNREF 1982-1984) charged with proposing solutions to the pressing crisis of the education sector. Despite such efforts by President Diouf to defuse social tensions, the situation was still volatile given that the clandestine opposition was still active. In this context Diouf undertook further political reforms, namely to remove most remaining constraints on party activity, in a move that must be understood as an attempt to secure power firmly.

Lifting Restrictions on Political Parties to Defuse Opposition Pressures

In April 24, 1981, the PS-dominated National Assembly amended the Constitution to fully lift restrictions on the number of allowed political parties. The tangible, and predictable, effect of this reform was a further fragmentation of opposition parties; their number quickly increased from four in 1978 to fifteen by 1983 (Hesseling 1985, 290). The new provisions to the

Constitution now only restricted the creation of political parties based on “race, ethnic group, sex, religion, sect, language or region,” and the system that emerged was made up of small parties that cut across religious and ethnic lines, and fell into a range of ideologies from the left to the right (Coulon and Cruise O’Brien 1989, 146; Diop 1992, 489-490). Importantly, they all

163

abandoned the use of extra-institutional means to challenge the regime, and accepted the resort to electoral competition as the only game in town.

It is evident that the introduction of competitive party politics put the opposition in disarray since a broad array of new parties were busy competing with each other to build a broad political base. However, unlike with the controlled political opening in 1976 under Senghor, the actual reform yielded the unintended consequence of a growing electoral threat to the PS dominance. Indeed, in the years leading up to the general elections of 1983, Abdoulaye Wade started to rally some factions of the leftist opposition, including the PIT, around the PDS (Diop et

Diouf 1990, 216). Given that the general elections on February 27, 1983 (for both the legislature and the presidency) were the first electoral test of Diouf following the liberalization of the political arena, the stakes were very high for regime incumbents seeking to consolidate the domination of the PS. In response, the Diouf administration unilaterally made the decision to redesign the electoral code, and a new one was adopted by the PS-dominated National Assembly in June 1982.

Imposing a Mixed (Parallel) Electoral System and Restrictions on Party Coalitions

Like the adoption of the PR system in 1978 under Senghor’s rule, the design of the June

1982 electoral code was imposed by the ruling regime with no input from opposition parties which, in fact, had unsuccessfully demanded the creation of a non-partisan electoral management body (Diop 2009, 188). The most significant point of this imposed electoral reform was certainly the shift from the former party-list PR in a single national constituency to a mixed system for legislative elections and the increase in the total number of seats, which went from 100 to 120.

Of these seats, 60 were allocated by PR from the votes cast for the national list of each party, using a largest remainder method with the Hare formula. The remaining 60 seats were allocated by a plurality winner-take-all vote in multi-member electoral districts, made up of the 30

164

administrative “departments” of the country, each with between one and five seats (Hesseling

1985, 292-293). Another provision of the new electoral code with significant consequences was to ban electoral coalitions of political parties.

According to Sylla (1983, 252) the design of the new electoral rules, and the choice of electoral system in particular, reflected a compromise among the leaders of the dominant party over two alternative options. The first one was whether they should maintain the previous proportional representation system at the risk of eroding the wide majority of the dominant party in the National Assembly. The second one was whether they should reintroduce the majority winner-take-all formula that existed under the single-party regime, knowing that this decision was very likely to prevent the opposition from winning any seats at all in the parliament—and hence certain to be hotly contested. It appears that the ruling elites were aware that the PS enjoyed a situation of dominance in the political system, yet they were not confident about the capacity of the party to win the majority of seats if a national PR system was adopted for the

1983 legislative elections.

However, the new system adopted should be understood as more than a compromise between the two camps within the ruling party or simply splitting the difference between alternative electoral systems. The adoption of the mixed system was clearly a careful political calculations purposively introduced to prevent the opposition from effectively threatening the dominancy of the ruling party (See Beck 1997, 14; Cruise O’Brien 1983, 9). To fully understand the decision of the leaders of the PS to shift to a mixed system we need to consider how this reform was linked to other provisions of the new code, notably the prohibition on coalitions of political parties in legislative and presidential elections. It was clear from the outset that the divided Senegalese opposition—made up of small long-clandestine parties that had only recently

165

acquired legal status—could not stand a chance against the PS without building alliances. This was particularly true since the PS, as the most established party and the only one with a broad nationwide appeal, could hope to win all 60 seats on the departmental winner-take-all plurality basis while managing to also secure other seats via the proportional representation method from the national lists, and thus ensure its majority in the parliament. The new system, that is, was designed to convert a national plurality into a clear parliamentary majority, while simultaneously representing an array of opposition parties, some quite small, and hence looking quite democratic. In this context, six opposition parties decided to boycott the February 1983 elections to protest the banning of political coalitions.

In the end, among the eight parties (out of the fourteen officially recognized) that participated in the general elections of February 27, 1983, only three were able to win seats in the parliament. As expected, Abdou Diouf easily won the presidential election, receiving 83.3% of the votes cast, while the Socialist Party secured 79.9% the votes in the parliamentary elections, resulting in an allocation of 111 seats out of 120 (Hesseling 1985, 296-97, Cruise

O’Brien 2002, 95). The PDS, the leading opposition party which had received 18 seats during the previous legislative elections appeared as the big loser in this new system, experiencing a significant drop in the number of deputies. It obtained 8 seats, less than half what it would have won if the mixed system had not been introduced (Zucarrelli 1988, 164; Beck 2008, 59)8. The

RND of Senghor’s former rival, Cheikh Anta Diop, won only one seat.9

8 The system thus seems to have been almost perfectly designed not just to magnify the victory of the single largest party and to represent quite small parties, but also to most significant under-represent the second-largest party—that is, the most threatening opposition.

9 This seat was finally awarded to an alternate following the refusal of the leader of the party himself, Cheikh Anta Diop, to sit in parliament.

166

Beyond the Effects of the Mixed System

That the introduction of the mixed electoral system assured the PS a clear majority could not be contested. However, one could consider a counterfactual scenario and ask what would have happened if the PR system had been maintained, or if the adoption of the mixed system was not combined with a provision that prohibited electoral coalitions. Certainly, the legalization of political parties without ideological restrictions and the inability of the opposition to overcome its cleavages—despite efforts to bring some parties together—also played into the victory of the

PS. For instance, the rehabilitated Mamadou Dia was able to gain the support of three opposition parties, whereas the officially leftist PIT supported the “liberal” candidacy of Abdoulaye Wade.

Even if in December 22, 1982 (a few month before the general elections) eight opposition parties—including Abdoulaye Wade’s PDS and a number of Marxist parties from the extreme left—initiated a “Plate-forme d'unité d'action des partis de l'opposition” (Platform of unity of action of the opposition parties), this did not translated into a viable unified opposition to the PS, which also managed to attract the electoral support of various groups and movements (Zuccarelli

1988).

In addition, one cannot overlook the effects of other provisions of the new electoral reform, or other factors related to the administration of the electoral process, in also curbing the electoral breakthrough of the opposition and maintaining the PS dominance. Because the electoral rules forbade political alliances for legislative or presidential elections, “the opposition went into battle in dispersed order against the might of the government machine,” (Coulon and

Cruise O’Brien 1989, 146). In addition, the PS regime controlled the administration of elections as well as the judiciary. Though the new electoral system clearly favored the PS, one cannot discard the possible role of electoral manipulation in a context where the overall performance of electoral institutions was deficient. Beck (2008, 60) notes that during the 1983 elections, the

167

Supreme Court ruled that photo identity cards were not mandatory to prove the identity of the bearer of an electoral card. This meant that PS clients had privileged access to extra electoral cards distributed by representatives of the PS and members of an obviously partisan administration in charge of the administration of the electoral process. In addition, despite the

December 1978 constitutional requirement, the 1982 electoral code reaffirmed that use of a voting booth was optional.

While the political liberalization allowed former illegal political parties to enjoy legal status, it also shed some light on the actual power relations between the ruling party and the opposition (Beck 2008, 60). The preponderant patronage networks and resources of the ruling party were in play during the 1983 campaign, notably in the declarations of electoral support by the leaders of the Muslim Sufi orders, whose peasant-disciples had seen their agricultural debts rise prior to the 1983 elections (Gellar 1982, 115). Given the strength of Sufi allegiance to a spiritual guide, the public declaration (ndigel) by the leaders of the brotherhoods for the ruling party may have persuaded their hundreds of thousands of disciples to vote for the PS (Coulon and Cruise O’Brien 1989, 146). The power of the ndigel to insure compliance by disciples was manifest in the rural area in the absence of measures to guarantee the requirement of the secrecy of the vote during elections (Beck 2008, 60).

Conclusion

This chapter has sought to explore the political process behind electoral reforms imposed by a ruling or dominant party, and to show how changes in the electoral systems have been empirically intertwined with changes in electoral procedures and electoral institutions. Although

Senghor and Diouf each introduced a combination of electoral reforms to enhance the survival prospects of the dominant Socialist Party (PS) in the political system, the reasons that motivated these reforms were different. Electoral reforms under Senghor were carried out in instances of

168

heightened extra-institutional threat but low electoral threat to the party’s dominance, whereas those under Diouf took place in a context of relatively low extra-institutional threat, but growing electoral threats.

The processes, however, were quite similar. Senghor instituted changes to electoral procedures regulating political parties in 1976 to control the opposition and mitigate the extra- institutional threat before he changed the electoral system in 1978 to provide some semblance of electoral inclusiveness prior to the elections. Yet, he retained control over the administration of the electoral process to make sure that the opposition had virtually no chance of winning an important number of seats through the ballot box. Similarly, Diouf undertook a series of institutional reforms that largely mirrored Senghor’s reform experience in the 1970s. He thus removed most remaining constraints on party activity in 1981 and—in the face of growing electoral threat and uncertainty—he then unilaterally changed the electoral code in 1983 to establish a parallel mixed system. In the same vein, he ensured a divided opposition by banning electoral coalitions before he stood for election the same year. By ruling out coalitions of parties, the new electoral regulations prevented a unified front against the PS and allowed Diouf and his dominant Socialist Party to maximize seats in the parliament.

Indeed, if Senghor was willing to introduce a PR system and give up some legislative seats in order to guarantee a symbolic representation of the opposition in the parliament, Diouf could not afford to maintain this electoral system after he had lifted restrictions on political parties. The PS had regularly won all 80 seats in the parliament under the previous majority system during the noncompetitive legislative elections of 1968 and 1973. The introduction of the

PR system in 1978 changed that situation, and allowed the PDS to win 18 seats. The PS under

Diouf could not have been confident that it would gain the majority of seats through a party-list

169

PR system in a single national constituency during the first competitive elections following the return of the multiparty system in 1981. The change to a mixed system and the ban on political coalitions can therefore be analyzed as a precautionary move by the ruling regime to guard against a potential electoral breakthrough of the opposition in a new and untested environment of unrestricted multipartism. Such precautions were all the more important to take considering

Abdoulaye Wade’s emergence as the main opposition figure and appeared as a potential challenger capable of rallying a portion of the opposition around the PDS. The outcome of the

1983 elections revealed that although the incumbents won a significant majority of parliamentary seats, in terms of the votes cast the PS received its smallest margin of victory since independence. It appears that the mixed system, although imposed from above, has served competitive politics in Senegal well since several parties profited from the seat distribution by winning in several districts. However, the fact that electoral rules discouraged coordination among opposition parties and created some disproportionality in the electoral results, however, also generated the perception of electoral malpractice and opened another cycle of electoral reform.

170

CHAPTER 6 NEGOTIATED ELECTORAL REFORM IN TIMES OF EXTRAORDINARY POLITICS: CONSENSUS AND COMPROMISE

Introduction

The initial design of new electoral institutions in Mali and Niger in the 1990s took place when these two countries were in the process of transitioning from authoritarian rule. Electoral reforms were thus embedded in the larger game of regime change, and emerged as part of a response to a broader popular reaction to the poor performance of political systems that had failed to meet any standards of inclusiveness. Indeed, at the time when electoral rules were being designed, both Mali and Niger were deeply engaged in political struggles from which it was not at all clear that a true competitive democracy could emerge. As we have seen, both countries had experienced some variant of authoritarian rule from the early 1970s until the late 1980s.

Accordingly, opposition groups, unions and other social forces, unable to challenge the established single party system through formal channels, joined forces and relied on extra- institutional pressure to bring to an end to the tenure of the existing military regimes, and hence triggered wider institutional reforms in the early 1990s. This chapter compares mechanisms of negotiated electoral reforms in times of “extraordinary politics,” examining these reforms through the cases of Mali and Niger during the processes of undergoing democratic transition.

Despite the striking similarities in the origins of state institutions and in their political trajectories, the two countries ended up with different electoral rules. The preexisting military authoritarian regimes were quite similar, and faced similar extra-institutional threats from the opposition prior to launching on democratic transitions. In both cases the design of electoral rules took place in the context of national conferences, and included change in the broader electoral framework. Yet, Mali and Niger implemented different electoral systems (Moestrup

1999). In Mali, the new electoral code provided that members of parliament should be elected on

171

the basis of a two-round majority-runoff list system in constituencies with one or more members.

The decree also specified that there would be 129 seats in the National Assembly, of which 116 seats would be elected by domestic constituents, and 13 seats representing the Malian diaspora were to be elected separately. In Niger, two types of districts were adopted: (1) eight multi- member (or “ordinary”) constituencies corresponding to the eight regions of the country including the capital, Niamey, and (2) eight “special” single-member constituencies. A party-list

PR system with the highest remainder formula was prescribed for the election of 75 MPs in ordinary districts, whereas a single member plurality (SMP) voting system was provided for the eight special districts with only one seat available for each.

These differences in reform outcomes were shaped by the circumstances under which each transition unfolded, and the power relations between the military and democratizing forces during the process of negotiation leading up to the choice of the rules of the game. As we shall see, these two factors have a defining effect on the reform process and outcome. In Mali, where the military regime collapsed during the transition process and where negotiations involved equally balanced political and social forces, a consensus was ultimately reached over the new electoral institutions. By contrast in Niger, where the former military regime survived and was struggling to keep power, it was obliged to compromise in order to maintain a formal role in the transition, though it in the end lost control over the process of designing the rules of the game, and faced unexpected consequences in the post-transition period. This chapter examines these contrasting paths and outcomes of negotiated electoral reform in times of turbulent politics.

Transition Politics and Electoral Reform by Consensus in Mali

The 1991 design of electoral rules in Mali took place following the breakdown of the dictatorial regime of General Moussa Traoré and his party, the Union démocratique du peuple

172

Malien (UDPM).1 As we have seen, Traoré’s regime collapsed as a result of a combination of several factors, perhaps the most important of which were the sclerosis of the political system— the legitimacy of which had been gradually challenged—and the persistence of the economic crisis and the resulting general malaise since the early 1980s. These factors provided an opportunity for the emerging urban-based social movements and the clandestine political parties to seal a strategic alliance and coordinate their actions so as to challenge the status quo, at a time when the Traoré regime was experiencing internal divisions and a rebellion in northern Mali.

Following the collapse of the regime, the design of initial institutions for post-transition Mali was the outcome of a process of negotiation between equally balanced forces that recognized the need to seek mutual agreements, given the risks of heightened political tensions and the potential to undermine the transition.

The Breakdown of Traoré’s Authoritarian Regime

The warning signs of the imminent demise of Traoré’s regime started to appear in the early 1980s, and became manifest in June 1990 during the general meeting of the ruling UDPM.

The leadership of the party, unable to reach a consensus at that meeting over the question of whether to allow a democratic opening, decided to defer the examination of the matter to the

“special congress” of the party to be held on March 28, 1991. But it did not take long for the claims for political liberalization to become a major demand of political actors and civil society organizations alike (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 54). Acts of open defiance toward the regime started in August 1990 when a group of Malian lawyers openly came out in favor granting civil rights and the introduction of a multiparty system. This demand was echoed, four days later, by

1 This party was an emanation of the Comité militaire de libération nationale (CMLN) which ruled the country from 1968 to 1978 before it was transformed into the constitutional single party which governed Mali until the fall of the military regime.

173

the independent newspaper Les Echos which published an “Open Letter to the President of the

Republic” signed by over a hundred citizens representing the various strata of the Malian population (Diarrah 1996).

Rather than being proactive in attempting to respond to popular demands, the regime reacted defensively and moved to attempt to close any possible negotiating tracks. However, the balance of power was quickly to shift in favor of the opposition when the alliances forged between different social forces culminated in a strong pro-democracy movement against the dictatorial regime. In October 1990 the Congrès national d'initiative démocratique (CNID) was created by Mountaga Tall, and—a few days later—the Alliance pour la démocratie au Mali

(ADEMA) was formed by Alpha Oumar Konaré. These two organizations led by well-known political figures, Konaré having served in the Traoré regime, along with the Association des

élèves et étudiants du Mali (AEEM) and the Association Malienne des Droits de l'Homme

(AMDH) soon formed the Comité de coordination des associations et organisations démocratiques (CCAOD) and started to openly challenge Traoré’s regime before the congress scheduled for March 1991 (Le Roy 1993, 145; Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 54).

While the mushrooming of civil society organizations constituted a serious challenge to the ruling UDPM, what precipitated its breakdown was the growing discontent of employees in both the public and the private sectors. To express solidarity with Malian workers who were facing the adverse consequences of economic reforms imposed by international financial institutions, the leaders of the Union nationale des travailleurs du Mali (UNTM)—which so far had been supportive of the government’s policy of “responsible participation”—turned to a strategy of confrontation with the authoritarian regime (Diarrah 1996, 24). Further pressured by

Tuareg rebels who took up arms in the north of Mali against the central state in June 1990, and

174

grappling with the series of mass protests in the capital, Bamako, the military leadership started to show signs of internal divisions between hardliners who wanted to maintain the status quo and pro-democratic sympathizers willing to make concessions (Chauzal 2011). Opposition extra- institutional pressures took a radical turn when, on 26 March 1991, a student-led anti- government demonstration broke out and met with support among workers’ unions and nascent pro-democratic organizations. The brutal repression of the protestors resulted in a number of deaths, and prompted a group of military officers to intervene and to finally bring Traoré’s rule to an end. They quickly moved that same day to create a Comité de réconciliation nationale

(CRN) consisting of seventeen officers of the various military corps (Villalón and Idrissa 2005).

The peculiarity of the democratic transition in Mali was that it followed the collapse of the authoritarian regime under the combined effects of the pressure of the street and a military takeover. The subsequent negotiations over which institutions to choose for a post-transition

Mali led to a complete redesign of the broader electoral framework, which was to include the instauration of a multiparty system and the adoption of a two-round majority-runoff system for legislative elections. These reform outcomes were the product of tensions and a process of negotiations between the two camps that participated in the ultimate downfall of the dictatorship.

The so-called pro-democracy movement—namely the Comité de coordination des associations et organisations démocratiques (CCAOD)—initially accused the coup leaders of “wanting to steal their revolution.”2 In response to growing popular suspicions of their motives, the CRN and the perpetrators of the coup eventually adopted a collaborative approach, which set the groundwork for negotiation between the two camps.

2 This expression came up over and over again during my interviews with various actors in Bamako.

175

The fact that the leader of the CRN, Lieutenant Colonel Amadou Toumani Touré

(commonly known as ATT), stated that the coup “had just carried the work of the people to completion” (Diarrah 1996, 26), and quickly announced that the military would not long retain power helped defuse tensions, but was not sufficient to establish a relationship of trust. Indeed, the “memory of past praetorian experiences was still vivid since the leaders of the 1968 coup had promised to hand over power to civilians when they took over, yet stayed in power for more than two decades.”3 The leaders of the pro-democracy movement thus did not take the words of the leaders of the CRN for granted; they displayed their determination not to leave power in the hands of the coup leaders and pressured the CRN to engage in dialogue with them throughout the process—starting with the definition of the contours and modalities of the transition itself.

Negotiations between the two sides about the modalities for transition lasted four days.

The first meeting held at the Bourse du travail (Labor Exchange) in Bamako on March 26, 1991 did not prove successful for two reasons. First of all, neither the pro-democracy movement nor the military junta had a real plan of action ready and the immediate problem that arose was how to fill the institutional vacuum resulting from the collapse of the dictatorial regime. Secondly,

“the two sides could not agree on the structure and composition of the transitional institutions to put in place.” 4 The military leaders and the CRN prepared a text that envisaged the creation of a

Conseil national de transition (NTC), while the pro-democracy movement proposed the establishment of the Comité du salut public (CSP). Ultimately, it was after the second meeting in

March 29 that a compromise was reached for the merger of the two bodies.5 This gave birth to

3 Interview with Voltaire Samaké, political analyst in Bamako and teacher at the National School of Administration in Mali. Bamako (Mali), June 26, 2013.

4 Interview with Daba Diawara, former Minister for the Reform of Institutions and head of a 15-member committee that was tasked with reviewing Mali's political system in 2008. Bamako (Mali), June 25, 2013.

5 See « La transition déclenchée. » Les Echos No 70, p. 2.

176

the Comité de transition pour le salut public (CTSP) and resulted in the drafting of what became known as the “Basic Act No. 1” by a joint committee composed of three military officers and three civilians, and which served as a provisional constitution. Its adoption on March 31 marked the legal end of the Malian Second Republic and the suspension of the Constitution of June 2,

1974, as well as the dissolution of the single party, the government, and the National Assembly.

The Act also established the institutions of the transition, which were to last fourteen months— from March 26, 1991 to June 8, 1992 (Diarra 2010, 48).

Negotiating a Transition: The Road to Consensus

Two main bodies ruled Mali during the transition to democracy, namely the Comité de transition pour le salut public (CTSP), which assumed function right after the elaboration of the

Basic Act on March 29, and the transitional government which was put in place one week later, on April 6, 1991. A close examination of these transitional bodies helps to understand how the balance of power between representatives of the pro-democracy movement and the military shaped the process of negotiation and led to the consensus outcome of institutional reforms. As both the executive and the legislative body, the CTSP was responsible for governing the country’s current affairs until the establishment of new institutions. It was composed of twenty five members including ten senior officers of the Comité de réconciliation nationale (CNR). The fifteen civilian representatives were members of the pro-democracy CCAOD.6 Led by Lieutenant

Colonel Amadou Toumani Touré, who ultimately became transitional head of state, the CTSP’s mission was to convene a National Conference, with the mandate to amend the “fundamental

6 They were divided as followed: three representatives from the Union nationale des travailleurs du Mali (UNTM) , two representatives from the Comité national d’initiative démocratique (CNID), two representatives from the Alliance pour la démocratie au Mali (ADEMA), two representatives from the Association Malienne des Droits de l’Homme (AMDH). Other organizations had only one representative. They included the Association des Élèves et Étudiants du Mali (AEEM), the Association des Jeunes pour la Démocratie et le Progrès, the Association des Diplômés Initiateurs et Demandeurs d'Emploi, the Jeunesse Libre Démocratique, the Mouvement Populaire pour l'Azawad, and the Front Islamique Arabe de l'Azawad. See Diarrah (1996, 28).

177

texts”—namely the draft constitution (to be approved by referendum), the electoral code, and the charter of political parties. It would also be responsible for conducting the general elections and for establishing the institutions provided for in the new constitution (Wing 2008, 63-64; Diarra

2010, 53).

Although all major reform decisions taken during the transition were based on a dialogue between the civilian and military components of the CTSP, the latter actors initially emerged as the dominant locus of power given the strength of their organization. Indeed, the armed forces worked as a block while the civilian components of the CTSP were facing internal rifts due to rivalries born over the previous decades, when they were operating underground. Because the transition followed a long period of authoritarian rule, the political landscape was populated by equally embryonic parties. Except for ADEMA and the Union nationale des travailleurs du Mali

(UNTM), civil society organizations that started to emerge in the early 1990s had poor political experience.7 However, they exercised some leverage over military actors, who had every interest in collaborating with civilians for two reasons.

First, the pro-democracy movement had strong influence over popular sentiment. It was therefore crucial for the military leaders of the CNR to cooperate with them in order to restore the confidence of citizens in the armed forces, especially given that the killings of protestors in

January and March 1991 had created a deep mistrust between Malians and the military (Diarrah

1996, 28-30). Secondly, the military needed to defuse the climate of suspicion and distrust

7 The Alliance pour la démocratie au Mali (ADEMA) is perhaps the only organization that could claim some political experience during the process of the transition to democracy. Indeed, ADEMA was created in 1990 as an umbrella movement which brought together the Parti malien du travail (PMT) and a number of other left wing political groups including the US-RDA and the Parti malien pour la révolution et la démocratie (PMDR). Moreover, it was led by a well-known political figure, Alpha Oumar Konaré, who in 1978 served as Minister of Youth, Sports, Arts, and Culture in Traoré's government. With fall of Traoré in 1991, ADEMA transformed itself into an official political party and took the name ADEMA-Parti Africain pour la Solidarité et la Justice, (ADEMA- PASJ).

178

among the members of the CTSP, given that the civilians suspected the officers of the CNR of using stalling tactics to delay the transition and retain power. Accordingly, Amadou Toumani

Touré wanted to avoid the scenario of a long and budget consuming transition, with all the unintended consequences that this could have—especially in terms of clashes within the CTSP between the civilian and military members (see N’diaye 1997, 206). Still, given the incongruity of the situation, both the civilian and military leaders agreed to value the establishment of a viable and competitive system over immediate conflicts of interest, at the risk of jeopardizing the fragile transition process.8

Simply put, the prudence of the military and the negotiation between realistic actors who had interests in moving the transition forward made it possible to strike further agreements. On

April 6, 1991, then, the transitional government was put in place following the appointment of a civilian Prime Minister, Soumana Sako. Like the CTSP, this second body of the transition was a mixed one, whose twenty-two members included seventeen civilians, reflecting the different political groups of the country, and five military members. On April 29, the transitional government published an action program, and three special committees (the Constitutional

Commission, the Commission on the Charter of Political Parties, and the Electoral Code

Commission) were jointly created by the CTSP and the government with the mandate to draft what were called the “fundamental texts” for a new regime: the Constitution, the charter of political parties, and the electoral code. A fourth committee, called Commission sur l’Etat de la nation (State of the Nation) was later created to debate various controversial issues in all aspects of national life (Diarra 2010, 53-54; Diarrah 1996, 32).

8 Maiga, Tiégoum Boubeye, « Conférence nationale ou catastrophe nationale. » Les Echos No 93, p. 4.

179

The draft document produced by each committee was eventually to be subjected to the approval of the National Conference. In anticipation of the forum, a preparatory committee for the National Conference was put in place. Although the majority of the members were representatives of civil society, the committee was inclusive and also encompassed other stakeholders from the government and the military. Describing the positive atmosphere that prevailed during the working sessions of the preparatory committee, Wing (2008, 65) notes:

“Decisions were made through debate despite widely diverging opinions. It was such negotiation that, it was hoped, would characterize the National Conference.”

The Electoral Code Committees and the Design of Electoral Rules

The process of designing new electoral rules in Mali took place in three stages. The first stage consisted in setting up the Electoral Code Commission, composed of five experts with the mandate of proposing a draft of a new electoral code. During its meeting on August 2, 1991, the

Commission discussed the general provisions of this new electoral code, the requirements for being a voter, and voter registration. These issues got short shrift, though the military voting remained a contentious question. It was not settled until the next day.9 Overall, the process proved to be relatively smooth given the drive to find common ground. This was particularly the case regarding the choice of the electoral system. As one close observer of the process noted:

“The members of the commission called on experts and legal practitioners. They designed the electoral code based upon lessons learned from electoral experiences in France and other

African countries. An agreement was reached among the members of the committee on the

9 See « D'une commission à l’autre : ça piétine ! » Les Echos No 98 du vendredi 2 août1991, p. 2.

180

principle of holding elections for national assembly based on a two-round majority-runoff system in single or multi-member constituencies.”10

The proposed electoral framework would have to be approved during the second phase of the process, namely during the National Conference. The conference was held from July 29 to

August 12, 1991, and brought together 1500 delegates from across the social, geographic, professional, and political spectrum (Moestrup 1999, 177). Certainly due to the fact that the resolution that convoked the National Conference granted three representatives to each recognized political party, the number of parties increased dramatically on the eve of the forum; over forty registered and were given legal status by the Ministry of Territorial Administration

(Wing 2008, 64).11 The fact that a verification committee was created to examine, among other things, the official list of participants helped to ensure the smooth conduct of the National

Conference under the chairmanship of the President of the CTSP, Amadou Toumani Touré. The conference proceedings were organized around several working committees and a plenary assembly (Diarra 2010, 153-54). On August 12, 1991 these different committees, including the

Electoral Code Commission, submitted their work to the National Conference, which adopted them on the basis of a mutual agreement after a debate over alternative electoral rules. As

Vengroff notes:

Most parties had openly declared themselves in favour of a proportional electoral system. However, in the course of the discussions that took place during the National Conference, the spectre of an ungovernable system (Fourth Republic France being the most common reference cited) paralysed by an unstable legislative majority, led the participants to accept a majority system. Stability for the new democracy thus took precedence over the philosophical preference for proportionality. As a compromise, proportionality was retained for the municipal elections.” (1994, 30)

10 Interview with a legal advisor of the transition authorities, Bamako (Mali). November 2014.

11 The Malian name for what is known in other countries as the Ministry of the Interior.

181

Although many Malian followed the debates that took place in the National Conference, there was very limited popular knowledge of the implications of alternative electoral rules. If citizens in fact had any influence on the initial reform options, this was certainly only indirectly, and involved the broad direction of change in the political system in 1991. The new electoral rules, rather, emerged from the work of experts and were adopted with the agreement of the leaders of the newly formed political parties. In other words, the choice of electoral rules—like the choice of the other institutions that came out of the transition—was primarily a consensual choice of experts and political actors whose preferences were informed by two arguments. These included the fragility of the political context, and the reference to government instability associated with the implementation of the PR system in France during the Fourth Republic

(1946-1958).

After the National Conference, the draft amendments to the basic texts (including the draft electoral code) were submitted to a committee of legal experts who then proposed cleaned up versions of these texts. The final text of the electoral rules appeared in the CTSP decree of

October 15, 1991. It provided that elections for the National Assembly should be held on the basis of a two-round majority-runoff list system in constituencies with one or more members. If none of the party-lists obtains an absolute majority in the first round, there will be a second ballot between the two candidates or lists having obtained the greatest number of votes. The decree also specified that there would be 129 seats in the National Assembly, of which 116 seats would be elected by domestic constituents, and 13 seats by the Malian diaspora. The 116 domestic seats were allocated based on population size—one seat for every 60,000 inhabitants—among 55 districts, 49 administrative units (cercles), and the six communes of Bamako. The district magnitudes ranged from one to six seats, each “cercle” being granted a minimum of one seat. In

182

the months leading up to the 1992 elections, administrative committees responsible for revising electoral rolls were created in each district and sub-district. These committees generally were composed of the chairman or a member of the special delegation, and two representatives of each political party or legally established group.12

In sum, the collapse of the Traoré regime and the subsequent organization of the National

Conference paved the way for a two-fold transition from military to civilian rule, and from authoritarianism to democracy. The particularity of the transition in Mali was that negotiation between military and democratic organizations led not only to a series of mutual agreements over the institutions of the transition, but also to a consensus over the choice of institutions for post- transition Mali. The National Conference involved much more than a settling of accounts between an incumbent regime and a competing opposition; it was based on a genuine desire to build consensus and to turn the country away from the dictatorial past. Despite various challenges faced by the transitional authorities, the commitment to reach consensus prevailed throughout the transition, including in the process of designing electoral rules. This feature of the transition in Mali largely explains the divergence between the electoral choice mechanisms that were adopted in Mali and those in neighboring Niger, which was simultaneously undergoing a parallel experience of democratic transition.

Transition Politics and Electoral Reform by Compromise in Niger

Unlike in Mali, where the regime of Moussa Traoré collapsed during the process of the transition to democracy, the military authoritarian regime in Niger survived into the transition, despite intense pressures from the opposition and amidst adverse economic and political

12 See Journal officiel du Mali, 15 janvier 1992. August 17, 1991: Décision No 19/CK portant mise en place des Commissions administrative chargée de la Révision des liste Electorale ; August 28, 1991 : Décision No 001/A.C portant mise en place de la commission de distribution des cartes électorale.

183

conditions. This was partly due to the fact that the leaders of the ruling MNSD anticipated that they might be displaced, and preemptively accepted to meet the demands of the so-called “forces of change”—mainly workers and students unions—for a National Conference. By creating a

Commission nationale préparatoire à la Conférence Nationale (CNPCN) to that end, the regime was able to buy time. Although pro-democracy forces were willing to reach some form of negotiated settlement, they tried to avoid the scenario of a transition controlled by the military ruling party (the MNSD) which was still in control of the state apparatus (Maignan 2000).

Accordingly, like the pro-democracy movement in Mali, they maintained pressure to influence the decision making process within the preparatory committee (the CNPCN) which began its work on May 5, 1991, with the primary goal of establishing the composition of the National

Conference by determining the quotas for participants from the most representative groups in the country.

Given the circumstances under which the transition unfolded, the ruling MSND gradually lost control over the process of designing the new rules of the game, though it maintained a formal role throughout the transition. To the extent that pro-democracy actors were able to put the ruling regime and its supporters in a minority position throughout the process, they significantly influenced the establishment of the transitional institutions during the National

Conference, which was held from July 29 to November 3, 1991. This was particularly the case of the Haut conseil de la république (HCR), which was perhaps the most influential of these institutions. The HCR served as a parliament, and was mandated to ensure the transitional

Government’s implementation of conference recommendations, to supervise the activities of the head of state, and to oversee the drafting of the basic of “fundamental” texts, including the electoral code. The negotitated design of these electoral rules—and in particular the choice of a

184

PR system with the highest average allocation method, along with the creation of special districts—was the product of power relations between actors during the process. It was also informed by the pressing need to guarantee representation to minority groups, notably the

Tuareg, who took up arms against the central government in the midst of the transition. This section examines the politics of negotiation and compromise during Niger’s initial transition to democracy.

The End of the Military Authoritarian Regime

When Lieutenant-Colonel Seyni Kountché took power in 1974 following the coup that ended Hamani Diori’s rule, the military assumed a central political role, exercising exclusive executive and legislative powers. The firm grip which President Kountché maintained over the political system made open challenges to the regime almost impossible throughout his tenure

(1974-1987). Despite economic hardship—due to persistent drought since the 1970s, and poor sales of uranium subsequent to the fall in world prices in the mid-1980s (Raynal 1993, 53)—the ruling elite of the military regime were able to impose aggressive belt-tightening to put Niger on a sounder financial footing. This was to begin to break down, however, with the privatization of state-owned enterprises under President Ali Saïbou who had come to power after Kountché’s death in 1987. The subsequent mass layoffs of workers brought widespread social dissatisfaction that, in turn became a source of political and social mobilization. The resulting popular unrest was triggered by the perception of corruption and mismanagement of state affairs (Colin 1990,

38; Kimba 2008).

In response, and in an effort to diffuse potential political tensions, the regime undertook to implement some constitutional reforms in September 1989 (Raynal 1993). These, however, proved unsuccessful in controlling dissent, especially from the Union des scolaires nigériens

(USN), which had led a series of strikes throughout the 1980s (Niandou 2001, 293). As the

185

financial crisis grew worse, the trade union movement—including the Syndicat national des enseignants du Niger (SNEN, teachers’ union), the largest union affiliated with the Union des syndicats des travailleurs du Niger (USTN)—began to progressively establish its independence from the regime, which was growing increasingly unpopular (Niandou 2001, 295). Mass protests erupted when, in October 1989, the government undertook so-called budget reduction measures.

These included the establishment of a competitive process for recruitment into the public service, a general reduction in the value of grants to each student, and the elimination of allowances associated with the promotion of civil servants (see Maignan 2000, 52). These measures generated a wave of protests that escalated into hostilities between the regime and the unions, which began to take a political stance.

Unlike in Mali, where the main opposition to the ruling regime came from clandestine political actors who turned civil society organizations into instruments of social mobilization, the most serious threat to the military regime in Niger came from workers and student unions. In early February 1990, these unions joined forces to reject the corollaries of the structural adjustment programme (SAP) which the government had adopted (see Villalón and Idrissa,

2005). Although their demands were initially purely of a material order, these soon escalated into political demands when, during their traditional labor day speech on May 1, 1990, union leaders demanded the introduction of a multiparty system and the convening of a sovereign national conference. The regime in Niger turn to repressive measures against protesters making these demands, sparked unprecedented mobilization. The subsequent killing of three students by the security forces, followed by the massacre of dozens of people in Tchintabaraden (in the region of

Tahoua) by the Nigerien army on May 7, 1990, in apparent retaliation for a Tuareg raid on a

186

village—triggered even more intense extra-institutional pressures. The military authoritarian regime was thus forced to put institutional reform on the agenda (see Salifou 2002, 259).

Although the regime accepted opposition demands for a multiparty system in December

1990, this promise was no longer sufficient to ease tensions (Chauzal 2011). In the face of growing discontent from civil society and students as these groups multiplied strikes, and in an attempt to temper the rising extra-institution threat to the government, on May 4, 1991 the

MNSD regime conceded to setting up a Commission nationale préparatoire à la Conférence

Nationale (CNPCN, a national preparatory commission to prepare the National Conference)

(Salifou 2002, 262). This commission was to bring together representatives from the ruling regime (including the government and the National Assembly) on the one hand, and actors from the pro-democracy movement on the other hand. These prodemocracy consisted mainly of workers and student unions, a prominence explained by the fact that political parties were virtually non-existent.

In fact, unlike Senegal where political liberalization in 1976 and 1983 led to the establishment of political parties whose leaders more or less freely conducted their political activities, Niger had never experienced political pluralism since independence in 1960.

Throughout its post-colonial history, Niger had been respectively under the yoke of single-party regime (1960-1976) and military rule (1976-1991) and the adverse political situation under Diori

Hamani and Seyni Kountché did not allow an opening for the emergence of opposition political forces. Despite early attempts by the Sawaba movement to become a potential challenger to the ruling PPN-RDA in the Diori Hamani years, this movement failed in the effort, and its leaders were forced into exile after their unsuccessful attempted insurgency in the mid-1960s (Walraven

2013). In the absence of a viable national political space on the eve of the democratic transition

187

the successive single parties, the PPN-RDA and the MNSD, were the only parties that could claim some experience. The first invoked a distant past while the second, although officially only three years old, could capitalize on seventeen years of military rule.13

It was thus no surprise that the MNSD remained the largest political force and was, from the start, at the center of the transition process—where indeed it remains today. Because it controlled almost all the strategic sectors of the state, it was able to anticipate threats to its survival and thus itself put in place the CNPCN to prepare the national conference. Obviously, this predominance of the incumbent ruling party cast doubts on the fairness of the process and opened the doors to a vicious cycle of political hostilities. It also ultimately led to negotiations between the regime and its allies on one side, and the pro-democracy movement (primarily unions and some newly formed political groups) on the other. Although the ruling MNSD appeared initially able to control and decide on the direction of reform, the opposition groups quickly used their ability to protest and to mobilize masses to influence the composition and operation first of the preparatory committee (the CNPCN) and then the decision-making process during the national conference itself.

Negotiated Transition in Niger: The Path toward a Compromise

Initially composed of 68 members—the majority of whom were from the pro-democracy movement—the CNPCN was charged with setting quotas for participants from what it determined to be the most representative groups in the country (Maignan 2000, 59). It started work on May 5, 1991 and was marked from the outset by a power struggle between the different camps over two main issues. The first one was related to the composition of the committee itself.

13 When, on April 15, 1974, Lieutenant-Colonel Seyni Kountché led a military coup that ended the government of Niger's first president, Diori Hamani, a Supreme Military Council (CMS) was established with Kountché himself as president. After Kountché’s death in 1987, Ali Saïbou secured his nomination by the Conseil militaire suprême (Supreme Military Council-CSM) on November 14, 1987, as his successor. In 1989, he created the MNSD as the sole legal party in the country until its fall in 1991.

188

From the start, the leaders of the Union des syndicats des travailleurs du Niger (USTN)—the most influential workers’ union in Niger, which was chairing the committee—displayed their resolve to limit the participation of the ruling regime and its supporters within the committee.

They thus grouped them together into a single delegation of seven members, regardless of whether they represented the government, the ruling MNSD party, or affiliated organizations

(Maignan 2000, 59; Abdourahmane 1992, 38). Under this formula, most women organizations including the Association des femmes du Niger (AFN)—the main women’s group in the country—were denied adequate representation on the grounds that it was subservient to the ruling MNSD. In response, a coalition of professional women staged a protest in Niamey on May

13, 1991. As Mariama Gamatié Bayard explained the event:

In preparation for the National Conference, forty elite women from different occupational groups (legal experts, sociologists, etc.) held a seminar in order to prepare a draft document on the status of women in Niger. This was meant to be a contribution to the work of the National Conference. We identified several problems that women in Niger had been facing and we were expecting that the Conference would take our proposals on board in order to put an end to gender- based injustices, including economic, social and political exclusion. The day before the end of our week-long seminar, the list of participants to the National Conference proposed by the CNPCR came out. To our surprise, there was only one woman, and she was a member of a small party. We felt humiliated and regarded this decision as an insult to our intelligence, and we told ourselves that the National Conference would be held with us, or it would not be held at all. This exclusionary measure was of concern for all women. So, we decided to meet with our elders from the Association des femmes du Niger (AFN)—the only women’s organization at the time—to fight back. On May 13, 1991, we hold a demonstration and instructed our members to quietly enter the room where the CNPCN was in session. We were about a hundred women, and we managed to block the work of the Committee. Our growing presence in the media and our capacity to mobilize people around the idea of a more inclusive process of transition prompted President Ali Saïbou to meet with us. He convinced the members of the CNPCN who accepted to grant more representation to women in the preparatory committee. It was also agreed that each delegation to the Conference should include a woman. We

189

maintained pressure to make sure that women would be represented in all the transitional bodies that would come out of the National Conference.14

The fact that women managed to interrupt the work of the CNPCN and forced a reconsideration of its membership led to the broadening of the base of participants in the committee. While it initially had only one woman among the 68 members, it was increased to 74 members, including seven female representatives (Chauzal 2011).

The second, and perhaps more divisive, issue was the determination of the quota of delegates attributed to each opposing camp for the national conference and the weight of these delegations in the decision-making process during the conference. The pro-democracy movement wanted to restrict the right to vote during the conference to the seven largest organizations or groups. These included the USTN; the USN; other unions not affiliated to the

USTN; unions representing employers; representatives of the ruling regime; political parties; and other grass root organizations (Abdourahmane 1992). Such an allocation formula, however, clearly implied a takeover of the conference by unions. It was quickly deemed unacceptable by the partisans of the ruling regime, who criticized the opposition for failing to ensure adequate representation for traditional leaders, women, youth (Samarias) and the union of cooperatives to whom the CNPCN denied the right to vote at the Conference (Salifou 2002). This argument of course served the incumbents; these social organizations were initially sponsored by the military regime under Kountché and were closely tied to the MNSD party.

When President Ali Saïbou received the report of the CNPCN on June 17, 1991, he used these disagreements as a pretext to dissolve the preparatory committee ten days later (Maignan

2000, 59; Chauzal 2011, 213). By attempting to replace the CNPCN with a technical committee

14 Interview with Mariama Gamatié Bayard, leader of Rassemblement des citoyens pour un Niger nouveau (Racinn) and first Nigerien woman to run for the office of president. Niamey (Niger), May 14, 2015.

190

to be chaired by a minister of the ruling MNSD, President Saïbou was in fact seeking to take back control of the situation. But following a backlash from union leaders (mostly from the

USTN and the USN) who threatened “to jeopardize the country with strikes,”15 he reversed his unilateral decision and restored the prerogatives of the CNPCN on July 8, 1991 (Salifou 2002,

263).

The decisions of the CNPCN specified that the national conference would be sovereign, meaning that its decisions would be binding. The fact that the member of the committees decided to apply the principle of “one group, one vote” (rather than each individual member having a vote) as a decision-making mechanism during the conference was obviously going to put the ruling MNSD in a minority position (Salifou 2002). It was so because the members of the

CNPCN denied the right to vote at the Conference to a number of groups including traditional leaders and the union of cooperatives closely linked to the MNSD party. In the days leading up to the conference, there was a clear demarcation of positions between the partisans of the ruling regime—who were negotiating for more groups with voting rights so as to influence the decision making process during the conference—and the pro-democratic forces, who maneuvered to have a comfortable majority in order to avoid any “unpleasant surprises” (Abdourahmane 1992, 41-

42). The emergence of political parties in the process swelled the ranks of the anti-regime group, though they all counted as one group. The requirements for recognition and the statute for political parties were determined by the law of 20 May 1991. Although the law forbade the creation of political parties based on ethnicity, religion, or regional identity, the necessary checks could not be carried out before the National Conference. As a result, twenty-four parties were

15 Interview with André Salifou, Historian and President of the National Conference in 1991. Niamey (Niger), April 18, 2015.

191

granted provisional recognition and allowed to participate in the National Conference (Maignan

2000, 60).

The National Conference and the Establishment of Transitional Institutions

As in Mali, the choice of initial electoral institutions in Niger was made during the transition, but there were important contrasts between the two countries in terms of the reform processes (Moestrup 1999). In Mali, for instance, the pro-democracy movement and the military first negotiated and reached a consensus over the Basic Act No. 1 (the provisional Constitution), which established the institutions of the transition (i.e. the CTSP and the Transitional

Government). These two institutions then jointly created three special committees responsible for designing the basic or “fundamental” texts (including an electoral code), which were finally adopted by the National Conference. In Niger, the process was reversed. Contending actors decided to first convene the National Conference, which would set up the transitional institutions, which would be in charge of designing institutions for post-transition Niger. The

Conference started on July 29, 1991 and brought together 1,200 delegates from across the social, territorial, and political spectrum (Moestrup 1999, 177). It was initially intended to last for 38 days, but was eventually extended until November 3, 1991 because of the many surprises along the process. The proceedings of the National Conference were disrupted when, in his official address, President Ali Saïbou argued that the delegates to the National Conference had the power to approve or amend the proposals submitted by the preparatory committee (Salifou 2002, 264).

Obviously, President Saïbou’s remark was an invitation to reconsider issues that had already been dealt with by the committee in early July. This marked the beginning of clashes between the two opposing camps. On the one hand, the supporters of the ruling regime did not want the conference to be sovereign. They also demanded preliminary discussions on the “quota” of representation granted to various organizations, as well as the discrimination between groups

192

which had the right to vote and those which were not eligible to vote. On the other hand, the pro- democracy actors wanted to maintain the initial proposals of the preparatory committee.

Deploring recourse to a vote to decide on this issue, representatives of the regime and the armed forces withdrew from the room on July 30, handing the delegates from the opposition a golden opportunity to adopt “Fundamental Act No. 1” that stated that the National Conference was

“sovereign”, (Salifou 2002, 265; Abdourahmane 1992, 57-58). Delegates of the ruling regime eventually took up their seats on August 1, after the opposition groups in the National

Conference accepted a compromise granting participation and voting right to groups that had initially been denied this right. These include traditional leaders, women, and youth (Samarias).

When the Conference resumed on August 5, 1991, it was clear that the MNSD and its affiliates were losing control over the process in favor of delegates from the pro-democracy movement—led by the USN and USTN, and dominated by students and teachers (Chauzal 2011,

215). The national conference was led by an elected Bureau of eight members headed by a historian, André Salifou. His main task was to arbitrate the respective agendas of the seven established commissions (including political, economic, socio-cultural, crimes and abuse, education, development, and communication affairs) (Chauzal 2011, 216). Although both the

President (Andre Salifou) and the Bureau of the National Conference were elected by all delegates, the representatives of the ruling regime were numerically unable to shape the outcome of the transition. This was all the more obvious because the Conference “legislated by adopting basic acts after three rounds of voting if necessary” (Maignan 2000, 64). Although delegates had initially agreed to resort to voting only in exceptional cases, unlike in Mali, consensus did not prevail, given internal antagonisms.

193

When the Bureau of the National Conference came to the conclusion that its cohabitation with a government composed of officials of the regime could interfere with its work, its members adopted a series of legislative measures that allowed them to concentrate the necessary powers in their own hands. For instance, Basic Act No. 3 of August 9 repealed the National Charter (which had served as constitution since October 1986), dissolved the National Assembly, suspended the

Constitutional Chamber of the Supreme Court, and relegated the head of state (President Ali

Saïbou) to a purely ceremonial role. Importantly, the government was dissolved by Basic Act No

11 of September 10 also reorganized the executive branch by placing the “permanent secretaries” of ministries as caretakers, under the supervision of the second vice president of the Bureau of the National Conference (Maignan 2000; Salifou 2002).

These tensions and the format of the National Conference in Niger did not allow serious reflection on an institutional configuration likely to promote democracy in the post-transition period. In fact, unlike in Mali where the National Conference was designed to build consensus over viable institutions for post-democratic Mali, the conference in Niger turned out to be a forum where the issue was primarily to settle past accounts with the military regime, and much time was spent in pulling together evidence of the mismanagement of the country since the

1960s. A number of measures were taken in response to these greivances, but they were far from addressing the concerns of various groups of participants. This was precisely the case for the

Tuareg delegates from the Union pour la démocratie et le progrès social (UDPS) who were dissatisfied with the handling of the killing of civilians in Tchintabaraden in May 1990 by the

Niger army (Salifou 2002, 173; Maignan 2000, 75-76).

The debate surrounding this incident reflected a profound cleavage within Nigerien society. For the Tuareg delegates, its resolution required not a mere sentencing of the military

194

officers responsible for the massacres, but a profound need to reform state institutions in order to decrease disparities between the center and the periphery. Thus the Tuareg delegates advocated for the establishment of a federal system which, in their view, would allow northern communities to be in charge of their own local affairs. However, the Conference proposed instead a framework for administrative decentralization that would benefit all regions of the country equally without any discrimination. Responses were not slow in coming. On October 19, 1991— while the National Conference was still following its course—a group of Tuareg separatists created the Front de libération de l'Aïr et de l'Azawad (FLAA). The same month, a group of rebels launched an attack and killed five Republican Guards (Salifou 2002, 273).

Moreover, the Sovereign National Conference in Niger was less inclusive than the one in

Mali. It granted absolute powers to a small urban elite which was put in charge of governing the country not just for the duration of the Conference, but for the entire transition period. On

October 29, 1991, the National Conference promulgated Basic Act 21 which served as a provisional constitution pending the drafting and approval of a new constitution. The Act stated that the transition period would last fifteen months—that is to say from November 1, 1991 to

January 31, 1993. It also provided for five new transitional bodies. These included the

Presidency of the Republic, the transitional government, the Supreme Court, the High Court of

Justice, and the Haut Conseil de la République (HCR) which served as the transitional parliament (Chauzal 2011, 217). The members of the HCR and the Prime Minister of the transition were directly chosen by the Conference (Maignan 2000, 64). At the end of the

National Conference, the different institutions would have the prescribed fifteen months to carry out their respective missions, but the imbalance of power between them did not facilitate smooth collaboration.

195

Although President Saïbou still retained the presidency of the country, he was stripped of most of his powers. On the other hand, the HCR was granted extensive powers. It was mandated by the National Conference to ensure the transitional government’s implementation of conference resolutions and to supervise the activities of the Head of State. The Prime Minister, who was responsible to the HCR, had no program but rather a “cahier de charge” which included a set of institutional, economic, social, and cultural specifications to implement

(Niandou 2001, 306). As a result, the transition was quickly bogged down and troubled. Because the conference rejected a structural adjustment program and an education project proposed by the

World Bank, most development projects were shut down. The government’s extreme cash flow difficulties delayed making funds available for sectors such as health and education. In a climate of widespread suspicion marked by procedural struggles and turf battles between HCR and the transitional government, the transition process itself faced serious threats. These included protest marches, dissatisfaction within the military associated with unpaid wages, and the rebellion in the north. The troubled and turbulent politics of the National Conference in Niger certainly affected the decisions made during the transition process, including the design of electoral rules

(Maignan 2000).

The Design of Institutions for Post-transition Niger

The design of post-transition institutions in Niger was entrusted to the High Council of the Republic (HCR), which served as a transitional parliament. It was put in place on November

4, 1991 and consisted of fifteen members elected individually by the National Conference, and was headed by the historian André Salifou who had also chaired the National Conference

(Salifou 2002, 275; Raynal 1993, 175). The HCR was undoubtedly the most influential organ of the transition in Niger and was assigned two main functions. First of all, it legislated on all aspects of social, economic, and political life. Second it was responsible for supervising the

196

implementation of the “cahier de charge” and the decisions taken by the National Conference. It had two specialized committees created by the National Conference, and which were respectively responsible for drafting the basic texts (including the electoral code) and for overseeing the progress in handling of political, economic, and cultural crimes and abuses, as well as issues related to illicit enrichment (Gazibo 2005, 96-97). The work of the Committee on

Basic Texts was subject to little discussion during the National Conference, but continued afterwards through several stages: the initial preparation of the draft fundamental texts, the examination and the adoption of these texts by the HCR, and then a referendum on December 26,

1992 for the adoption of the new constitution (Maignan 2000, 65; Gazibo 2005, 98).

The Constitution provided for a unicameral legislature with 83 seats, and entrusted the

Constitutional Chamber of the Supreme Court with the task of settling electoral disputes and publishing the results of all elections: referenda, presidential, legislative and local. As far as electoral institutions were concerned, the designers provided for a combination of formula with the stated goal of guaranteeing the inclusiveness of electoral system and procedures. Thus, two types of districts were adopted: (1) eight multi-member (or “ordinary”) constituencies corresponding to the eight regions of the country including the capital, Niamey, and (2) eight

“special” single-member constituencies. The 83 members of parliament were to be elected by direct popular vote through parallel systems. In other words, 75 seats should be allocated in the eight multi-member (or “ordinary”) constituencies using the party-list proportional representation system with the highest remainder formula, and the 8 remaining seats from special single-member constituencies should be attributed using the first-past-the-post system.

It is clear that the introduction of special districts was largely a response to the pressing need to guaranteed representation to minority groups, such as the Tuareg who took up arms

197

against the central government in the midst of the transition. These districts were therefore designed to avoid the potential exclusion of minority ethnic groups—including Arabs,

Gourmantchés, Toubous, and Tuaregs—which represented a majority in some limited geographic spaces, but which might not be able to secure a seat without a carefully drawn special district in their home areas (Maignan 2000, 88-9). By contrast, the party-list PR system was purposively introduced for a different logic: to reduce the strength of the old ruling MNSD party, which still enjoyed significant support, and to guarantee legislative representation for newly formed opposition parties with limited national appeal (Chauzal 2011: 306-7).

In the context of tensions among the institutions of the transition, and the sense of urgency to bring the long transition to an end, the transition government took measures to guarantee transparent presidential and legislative elections. While the committee responsible for the elaboration of the basic texts was drafting the constitution and the new electoral code, the government was setting up a National Elections Commission (CNE), an inclusive administrative body responsible for the material organization of elections and composed of representatives from the Ministry of the Interior, the financial administrations, the security services, and representatives from all legal political parties and civil society. As if to signal potential shortcoming in the administration of elections, the HCR set up a Commission de supervision et de contrôle des élections (COSUPEL) charged with overseeing the transparency and the proper implementation of the electoral process (Souna 2000, 273). Despite some deficiencies and delays in implementing the electoral process by the CNE (Maignan 2000), Niger moved towards a new era of multi-party elections under a new system designed in a context of contestation and compromise. The adoption of a new constitution by referendum, followed by the holding of

198

presidential and legislative elections in February-March 1993 marked the end of the lengthy transition to the Nigerian Third Republic.

Conclusion

This chapter has sought to examine the mechanisms of negotiated electoral reforms in

Niger and Mali during periods of democratic transition. These reform processes were influenced by the modes of regime transition and the configuration of actors that took part in the process. In both countries, disparate groups which previously has been unable to challenge the established single party system through formal channels coalesced around a common agenda for change, and pressured the existing military regime to reform the overall political system in the name of democracy. Unlike in Mali where the main opposition to the ruling regime came from clandestine political actors who turned civil society organizations into instruments of social mobilization, the major threat to the military regime in Niger came from workers and student unions.

Although the initial design of electoral institutions in Mali and Niger in the 1990s both took place while these two countries were transitioning from authoritarian rule, the reforms processes took different paths. The differences were partly associated with the circumstances under which the transition unfolded and the power relations between contending forces during the process of negotiation. In Mali, where the previous authoritarian regime collapsed during the process of democratic transition, a consensus emerged among the bargaining groups (i.e. the pro- democracy movement and the segments of the military that had participated in the overthrow of the dictatorship) as a way to mitigate post-transition uncertainty. The particularity of the transition in Mali was that negotiation between these groups led to series of mutual agreements not only over the bodies of the transition, but also to a consensus over the choice of institutions for a post-transition Mali. Given the volatile situation, both the civilian and military leaders

199

tended to value consensus over immediate conflicts of interest, at the risk of jeopardizing the fragile transition process. The two groups thus first negotiated the Basic Act No. 1 (the provisional Constitution) which established the CTSP and the transitional government, and these two institutions then jointly created the three special committees responsible for designing basic texts (including an electoral code) that were finally adopted by the National Conference.

In Niger, the process was reversed. The National Conference was first convened, which then created transitional institutions themselves charged with designing institutions for post- transition Niger. This sequence was due to the fact that the leaders of the ruling MNSD anticipated their likely fall and accepted to meet the demands of the workers and students unions for a National Conference. Because the ruling regime was primarily concerned with attempting to keep power, it chose compromise over confrontation in order to hold on to a formal role in the transition. It ultimately lost control over the process of designing the rules of the game, however, and faced unexpected consequences in the post-transition period. To the extent that pro- democracy actors were able to put the ruling regime and its supporters in a minority situation throughout the process, they significantly influenced the establishment of the transitional institutions during the National Conference. This was particularly the case of the Haut conseil de la république (HCR), which oversaw the drafting of basic texts (including the electoral code).

These divergent processes largely explains the departures between the electoral choice by consensus in Mali and the choice by compromise in neighboring Niger, which was simultaneously undergoing a parallel experience of democratic transition. These initial choices of electoral rules, and particularly poor institutional choices in Niger, have a bearing on future electoral competition and help to explain the need for further reforms in both countries.

200

CHAPTER 7 ELECTORAL REFORMS IN TIMES OF NORMAL POLITICS

Introduction

The experiences of electoral reform in Senegal and Mali which are examined in this chapter point to the choice of electoral institutions as one element in an ongoing sequence of endogenous political struggle, involving parties competing for seat maximization. Once initial electoral rules had been chosen in the early 1990s, the attention of political actors shifted towards the gradual improvement of the procedures and structures that govern and regulate the entire electoral process. In just over a decade of competitive elections following the implementation of multiparty politics, every electoral contest in both countries was preceded or followed by sharp antagonism among political parties over how to improve electoral processes so that popular desires might be translated into fair parliamentary election results. This dynamic resulted in the adoption of a variety of substantively different electoral institutions in the period from 1983 to1998 in Senegal, and from 1990 to1999 in Mali. My purpose in this chapter in examining the choice of electoral rules in these two countries during these periods is to attempt to contrast these processes with the politics of founding choices. I seek to examine the political dynamics of episodes of electoral rule changes—or persistence—in periods of “normal politics.” Because these cases of debates around electoral reform can be compared over time, Senegal and Mali also provide the opportunity to observe adaptive behavior as actors learn the rules and constraints of the political game in the context of democracy.

This chapter first discusses the episodes of reform in Senegal, where changes in electoral rules were embedded in the long process of incremental institutional reform that started in the

1970s. The chapter analyzes the process by which the ruling Socialist Party negotiated a compromise with the opposition forces by retaining the mixed electoral system adopted in 1982,

201

while gradually changing electoral procedures and structures to make the rules of the game more inclusive. The chapter then turns to the case of Mali, where the debates on reform centered on the initial electoral rules that were designed during the transition to democracy in 1991. In both cases, the process of negotiation involved compromises over electoral rules, though the incumbent regimes dominated the political system.

Negotiating Electoral Procedures and Structures in Senegal

Despite the reputation of Senegal as one of Africa’s democratic “success stories,” which established a multi-party system in the mid-1970s and has held regular elections from independence, in fact into the late 1980s the country did not have rules that most scholars would classify as meeting the necessary conditions for free and fair elections. Consequently, until 1992, most political disputes were associated with contestation over electoral rules. The reform of the electoral code in 1982, under Abdou Diouf’s presidency, and the implementation of a mixed

(parallel) system, clearly continued to favor the ruling Socialist Party. This was evident in electoral rules that introduced provisions that prohibited political coalitions while retaining the party’s control over the administration of the electoral process. The announcement of Diouf’s electoral victory and the return of a PS majority to the National Assembly in 1983 sparked post- elections violence in reaction to what the Front du refus (Rejection Front)—a coalition of eleven opposition parties—labeled as an “electoral masquerade” (Sy 2009, 159). This contestation persisted until, in the wake of post-electoral violence after the 1988 general elections, a new electoral code was adopted in 1992 and a mixed electoral management body in 1997. As I will demonstrate below, these reforms were the result of a negotiated process that led to compromises between contending forces.

202

The 1992 Compromise over the Senegalese Electoral Code

Following the 1983 elections, which they deemed fraudulent, the opposition demanded a reform of the 1982 electoral code prior to the next presidential and legislative contest (scheduled for 1988) claiming it was necessary to prevent electoral malpractice and to guarantee the fairness of the game (Diop and Diouf 2002, 105). These demands persisted for years, but the ruling regime refused to put electoral reform on the agenda. The refusal to agree to reform the electoral rules helped feed an escalation of demands from the opposition, and increased social tensions in the mid-1980s as the regime was forced to adopt structural adjustment policies imposed by international financial institutions (Galvan 2001). The hardship of these unpopular austerity measures contributed to the shrinking of the manufacturing sector and the decay of the peanut economy, which was dominated by the Sufi orders. Although the regime could still rely on the support of the marabouts to defuse tensions, the declining resources of the state limited the financial capacity of the regime and, accordingly, weakened the patronage relations between the

PS and the Sufi authorities (Beck 2008). In such a context, a growing wave of unrest threatened the very existence of Diouf’s tenure, especially given the growing popularity of the opposition among urban youth, and the fact that it was making important inroads into rural areas.

Abdoulaye Wade, the leading opposition figure, benefited much from these political and social developments. As his party, the PDS, seemed to emerge as a real alternative to the PS regime,

Wade began to campaign for the 1988 national elections under the slogan sopi, (Wolof for

“change”) (Diouf 2002, 162; Diop and Diouf 2002, 106).

The government, however, resisted these pressures, and the rules that governed the 1983 general elections remained unchanged—giving little cause for optimism to the opposition. In a climate of high social tensions in 1988, and despite the high expectations and the widespread hope that an electoral victory of the opposition was possible, the Parti Socialiste was hastily

203

declared the winner of the legislative elections, receiving103 seats out of 120, and Diouf was reelected president, officially receiving 73.2% of the votes cast in the first round (Sy 2009, 161-

62). The results were immediately contested, and the post-electoral period was marred by rioting, especially in cities like Dakar, amid accusations of fraud. The protests took a violent turn following the arrest of Abdoulaye Wade and other leaders of the opposition (Diouf 2002, 63).

In this context, the opposition’s demand for electoral reform was given a new impetus, one magnified as the adverse internal circumstances were aggravated by exogenous pressures.

Indeed, while the Senegalese regime was experiencing the domestic political pressures, the country was also grappling with border tensions with its major neighbors to the north and south.

In 1989 a maritime border quarrel with Guinea-Bissau escalated. The same year a violent dispute with Mauritania broke out, causing ethnic violence in both countries, an exchange of populations, and a major refugee crisis in northern Senegal (Arieff 2012: 9). This was followed by the collapse of the Senegambia Confederation—a union that had been created in 1981 and was supposedly based on mutual security interests. At the end of the decade, then, Senegal was experiencing not only significant domestic unrest but also major tensions with its neighbors

(Marut 2010, 132; Faye 201-202).

In this context, the opposition’s call for a boycott of the 1990 municipal elections further damaged the image of the regime, and was certainly a contributing factor in Diouf’s decision to set up a “Government of National Unity” in 1991 in an effort to defuse tensions. The unified opposition initially rejected the offer, but two important parties, the PDS and the PIT, reversed their decision when the ruling Socialist Party agreed to open negotiations on electoral and media reforms (Beck 1997, 19). The reforms included a May 1991 agreement to create an Haut conseil de la radio télévision (HCRT), which represented a significant development in terms of giving

204

the opposition greater access to state-controlled media (Gellar 2005, 81).1 However, the most important concession by the government was the agreement to enter negotiations which would lead to the reform of the electoral code. The process started in early May 1991 with the establishment of the Commission nationale de réforme du code électorale (CNRCE), entrusted with the task of conducting negotiations over the reform of electoral rules. The commission was composed of five legal experts and representatives of fourteen out of seventeen legally constituted political parties (Beck 1997, 21; Gellar 2005, 81). In a sign of the government’s willingness to accommodate the opposition, an agreement was reached on the most controversial electoral issues at the end of the second meeting of May 20. A Commission cellulaire (Restricted

Commission), composed of lawyers and headed by the well-known Judge Kéba Mbaye, was entrusted with putting together the details of the thirty-six points of compromise. In July 1991, after three months of work, the Commission submitted the text to President Diouf who transmitted it to the National Assembly for a vote on September 20, 1991—“without changing a comma”—as the members of the ruling regime often noted subsequently (Sy 2009, 163).

The promulgation of the code on February 7, 1992 marked the end of a negotiation process which led to a compromise across a wide range of issues (Villalón 1994b, 173-175).

Although the new code contained provisions aiming to guarantee “free and fair” elections— including the opposition’s demands for obligatory use of voting booths and mandatory voter identification—the mixed electoral system for legislative elections, and the eligibility of Diouf to run for a third term were non-negotiable for the ruling regime. Beck (1997, 22) captures well the essence of this compromise and the subsequent improvements in electoral rules when she notes:

While the PS regime retained its role in the administration of the elections, the new electoral code offered the concession of bipartisan (ruling and opposition parties)

1 See Décret n°91-537 du 25 mai 1991 portant création du Haut Conseil de la Radio Télévision.

205

supervision of the voting process, from the polling stations to the national commission that tabulated the final results. In addition, electoral officials in the polling stations were to be drawn from categories A and B of the civil service (for example, school teachers), who were considered more immune from the influences of the ruling party than the village chiefs and other representatives of the PS state who were customarily appointed by the administration to ‘supervise’ the balloting.

Although the Ministry of the Interior still remained the backbone of electoral administration in the country, the new code provided a Commission nationale de recensement des votes (CNRV) which would be responsible for managing the tallying of the votes, on the basis of the results sheets transmitted by the polling staffs. The CNRV included representatives from each party or party list, and was headed by judges at the national level as well as the regional and departmental level. The widespread agreement among political actors was unprecedented, and made the adoption of the 1992 electoral code the most progressive reform since the implementation of multiparty elections in Senegal in 1976.

This agreement was to be eroded, however, when the ruling PS took the unilateral decision to modify the rules of the game in the months leading up to the May 1993 presidential and legislative elections, undermining the legitimacy of the new negotiated electoral code. In

September 1992, the PS legislative majority enacted a law that granted local administrators greater freedom “in selecting electoral officials in the absence of appropriate civil servants”

(Beck 1997, 21-22). Moreover, the Diouf administration decided to completely reorganize the judicial system a year after the new code, granting extensive powers to the judiciary in the adjudication of electoral disputes. As N’diaye argues :

From independence until 1992, there was what was referred to as the unicity of the justice system. There was a single Supreme Court composed of three chambers: an Audit Chamber, an Administrative Chamber, and a Civil and Commercial Chamber ... In 1992, this unicity was broken, and all the different chambers became autonomous jurisdictions. The reason is that, on the occasion of the ceremony marking the return of the courts from their recess, the then Chief Prosecutor of the Supreme Court in had highlighted the issue of the independence of the judiciary in his official speech. The President of the Republic [Abdou Diouf] did not appreciate

206

that speech. His reaction was violent. He suppressed the Supreme Court and replaced it with three independent high courts: the Supreme Court, the Council of State, and the Constitutional Council. By fragmenting the powers of the Supreme Court, the President of the Republic weakened at the same time the powers of the high magistrates.2

While the official justification for the judicial reform was the very large overload of work that fell on the staff of the Supreme Court, there were strong suspicions in the opposition that the actual reason behind the decision to break this supreme jurisdiction into three specialized high courts was to prevent the judges from properly performing their duties in the oversight of elections (Beck 1997). These modifications to electoral rules were passed by the PS-dominated

National Assembly, despite the opposition’s warnings and protests that such unilateral changes would invalidate the initial compromise and likely spark another cycle of electoral violence.

In fact tensions rose when irregularities reported by the representatives of opposition parties in the Commission nationale de recensement des votes (CNRV) during the February 21

Presidential election forced a halt in the work of the electoral management body. The chairperson of the CNRV, unable to reconcile the internal discrepancies and hence to announce the provisional electoral results as set out in the electoral code, decided to refer the matter to the

Constitutional Council (Sy 2009). The fact the Council moved on to declare the incumbent

President, Abdou Diouf, the winner (with 58.4% of the vote) was to generate a post-election crisis. Indeed Wade who came second, with 32% of the vote, and six other candidates refused to concede defeat. In this context, it was hoped that the PS regime would make sensible concessions to decrease the perception of electoral malpractice among opposition parties and enhance the integrity of the legislative elections of March 9, 1993. However, the government unilaterally decided to make an adjustment to the code by abolishing the CNRV and replacing it

2 Interview with A. B. N’diaye, Public Prosecutor. Dakar (Senegal), August 26, 2015

207

with a commission composed of three magistrates from the Court of Appeals.3 While the opposition parties (Wade in particular) did not challenge this partisan decision, they demanded, however, that the choice of these magistrates be made jointly by the ruling party and the opposition. The fact that, the PS refused to make any concession and unilaterally nominated all three magistrates validated the doubts expressed by the opposition that the judiciary was not independent of the executive.

In this context, the unexpected resignation on March 2, 1993, of the president of the

Council—Judge Keba Mbaye, who had facilitated the design the 1992 electoral code—added confusion to an already tense situation and further casts a general doubt on the integrity of the electoral process.4 Tensions reached new heights when, six days after the legislative elections, the vice president of the newly created Constitutional Council, Babacar Seye, was assassinated while the council was still deliberating on the official results of the elections. Abdoulaye Wade was considered the prime suspect as he had earlier criticized Seye and the Constitutional Council

(see Samson 2005, 101; Beck 2008, 64). Despite the unstable political situation, the

Constitutional Council announced the results

The legislative elections resulted in a large parliamentary majority for the ruling Socialist

Party which won 84 seats out of 120. Despite the fact that in the end five political parties entered the National Assembly and that the PDS was able to win 27 seats in the 1993 legislative polls

(more than in any previous election) the opposition claimed electoral fraud (Sy 2009, 166).

Because the ruling PS still retained control of the administration of the electoral process (through the Minister of the Interior) and had access to the electoral lists, the opposition maintained that

3 See NDI Assessment of the May 1993 Senegalese legislative elections. https://www.ndi.org/files/824_sn_assessment_050993.pdf

4 See also « Démission du juge Kéba Mbaye: Raison officielle. » Sud au Quotidien, N° 21 du 3 Mars 1993.

208

the ruling party had engaged in unlawful registration of voters and manipulation of electoral results. Given the partisan attitude of the administration in the governance of the electoral process, the opposition—which now also questioned the autonomy of the judicial system—put forward the demand for an independent electoral commission. They engaged in a battle with the

PS which, despite its desire to maintain the role of the Ministry of the Interior in the electoral process, eventually accepted to compromise over the establishment of a mixed electoral management body.

Towards a Mixed Electoral Management Body

The adoption of a mixed electoral management body was thus a response to what the opposition now denounced as further flaws in the electoral rules. As noted earlier, despite the adoption of the new electoral code by compromise in 1992, the electoral process in Senegal still contained significant shortcomings. The manipulation of electoral rules by the incumbent PS before the 1993 elections, and the perception of electoral malpractice during the 1996 local elections sparked continued opposition extra-institutional pressures and opened the door to a new round of serious reflection on ways to improve the inclusiveness of electoral structures (Sy 2009,

166). Given what they now perceived as an institutional configuration that rendered political alternation unlikely, opposition parties decided to use strong-arm tactics to force the socialist government to reform the prominent role of the Ministry of the Interior in the administration and governance of the electoral process. Thus in 1996, following the difficulties in the organization of local elections, they created what was known as the Collectif des 19 and demanded the creation of a Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI), with quasi-legislative powers and which would be responsible for the governance of the electoral process (Fall 2011).

The Socialist Party rejected this demand. Ousmane Tanor Dieng who had just been chosen by

209

President Abdou Diouf to be the First Secretary of the Socialist Party, presented the official position of the PS and declared that:

This debate on the Independent National Electoral Commission is a false debate. It is a false debate because the electoral process as prescribed by our texts and our laws is conducted in the presence of the different parties and judges settle everything. What else do you want? Do not make people believe that the president is not on board on the issue. I reaffirm that the party's position is that the implementation of an Independent National Electoral Commission is unnecessary and untimely…This position, I maintain, is final and irrevocable.5

However, despite this apparent reluctance, the ruling party soon recognized the necessity of addressing problems associated with electoral administration. President Diouf, in addition, could not afford to fight on two fronts. In fact, the controversial nomination of Ousmane Tanor

Dieng as his successor at the party’s congress in 1996 had provoked prominent figures to resign from the PS (Galvan 2001, 54; Osei 2012, 222). This turbulence within the ruling party had empowered opposition parties, which maintained pressure in the run-up to the 1998 legislative elections, and eventually forced the government to meet their demands for the establishment of an inclusive electoral management body. Accordingly, President Diouf created another

Commission cellulaire chaired by Professor Ibou Diaïté and including several law professors (Sy

2009, 167). This commission mirrored the Commission nationale de réforme du code électorale

(CNRCE) that had been created in 1991 to facilitate the negotiations that eventually led to the

1992 compromise over the electoral code.

As a framework for consultation, the new Commission cellulaire was responsible for organizing a dialogue between the government and the opposition to propose consensual measures aimed at improving the governance of the electoral process. Due to a reluctance to compromise between the initiators of the Collective of 19, whose leaders continued to demand a

5 See « Ousmane Tanor Dieng au meeting de la 1er coordination PS : pas de commission électorale indépendante. » Sud quotidien No 1007 du lundi 19 Aout 1996.

210

CENI, and the PS, which wanted to maintain the status quo, the commission’s initial efforts were blocked. After several rounds of discussions, President Diouf opted for a middle-way between the concerns of the two opposing camps.6 Instead of creating a Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI) as many leaders of the opposition had demanded, he had the National

Assembly pass a bill on September 8, 1997 which created a mixed electoral management board composed of two separated bodies. On the one hand, the Direction générale des élections (DGE) within the Ministry of the Interior would henceforth be in charge of the practical organization of elections and referenda. On the other hand, a new body, the Observatoire national des élections

(ONEL), would have responsibility for overseeing and monitoring the electoral procedures. The

ONEL included delegates from different political parties and was to be involved in all stages of the electoral process (from voters’ registration to the announcement of provisional electoral results) (Niang 2012; Fall 2011, 172).

By entrusting both the ONEL and the Ministry of the Interior to the two retired and respected generals from the Senegalese army—General Mamadou Niang and General Lamine

Cissé, respectively—Diouf was expecting to ensure the credibility and transparency of the electoral process. Indeed, the 1998 legislative elections were considered by many analysts as the most credible and transparent elections in Senegal since 1978.7 The role played by the ONEL and the DGE were clearly instrumental in the peaceful nature of these parliamentary elections.

Ten opposition parties were able to enter the National Assembly, securing a total of 47 seats

(29.2% of the vote cast), against 93 for the ruling Socialist Party which received 50.19% (Sy

2009, 167; Fall 2011, 176).

6 « Un Observatoire national des élections : le Chef de l’Etat tranche le débat ». Le Soleil du Mardi 12 août 1997.

7 Since the 1992 reforms had also included an extension of the presidential term in office to seven years, while the legislative term remained at five, only legislative elections were held in 1998. Presidential elections would be held in 2000.

211

There were, however, some flaws in the ONEL’s role of supervision and control in these first elections following its creation, which subjected the body to various criticisms from the opposition. General Niang eventually resigned as president of the ONEL in May 1999 after some opposition parties, including the URD and the RND, pressured for him to resign as a head of the body (see Niang 2012). In addition, other leaders of the opposition kept pushing the demand for an Independent Electoral Commission with wider powers and greater material and financial resources (Niang 2012). Despite these criticisms and demands, however, the ONEL was maintained and two years later it supervised the March 2000 elections that led to the first electoral alternation of power in Senegal as Abdou Diouf was defeated and Abdoulaye Wade came to power. The calm that prevailed in the aftermath of this historic presidential election demonstrated that Senegal had taken an important step in ensuring the legitimacy of its electoral process.

Renegotiating Electoral Institutions in Mali

The reform of electoral rules has been one of the most controversial issues in Malian politics since the country made the transition to democracy in the early 1990s. After the very first multiparty elections following the National Conference in 1991, Malian opposition parties requested that the government undertake a revision of the electoral code in order to address shortcomings regarding several issues: the vote of Malians living abroad, the issue of mobile polling stations8, and the creation of an independent national electoral commission (CENI). The government’s slow response to addressing these demands contributed to exacerbating political and social tensions, despite President Alpha Oumar Konaré’s firm hold on power (Cissé 2006,

59-60; Smith 2001, 74). In particular, student agitations hardened the political climate, and in

8 These are intended to serve nomadic communities who are sometimes widely dispersed over a broad geographic space.

212

February 1994 the opposition parties withdrew from the coalition government, following the social crisis which was triggered by the devaluation of the CFA franc. This situation acutely exacerbated the already strained relations between the ruling party and the opposition parties, whose focus was already on the upcoming 1997 elections, and on the conditions under which they could secure victory (Tapo 2000, 279).

In the end, the government eventually accepted a reform of the electoral rules but initially attempted to so on its own terms. After several rounds of unsuccessful negotiations with the opposition, the ruling ADEMA used its supermajority in the parliament to impose a mixed electoral system in 1996. The Constitutional Court, however, invalidated this draft electoral code after the opposition filed to block it. The failure of this attempt at imposed reform, and subsequent negotiations, led in the end to the adoption of a negotiated electoral code which established a CENI prior to the 1997 elections. Subsequently, the controversies surrounding the organization of the 1997 legislative elections opened the door to another round of negotiation for the improvement of electoral procedures, negotiations which lingered until 1999 when another compromise was reached. This section will examine the politics behind this negotiated reform process under democratic rule in Mali.

Compromise over the Electoral System and the CENI

The year 1997 was going to be a busy electoral year. The stakes were high for both the opposition and the ruling regime given that the general elections (parliamentary, presidential and local elections) were to be held within the space of a few months. From this perspective, a number of prerequisites had to be met in order to address shortcomings revealed during the organization of the first post-transition multiparty elections in 1992 (Baudais 2015, 421). Perhaps the most urgent was the regular updating of electoral rolls and the revision of the 1991 electoral code (Tall 2000, 264). The government and the administration had never implemented such

213

measures, although these—and especially the yearly revision of the electoral rolls—fell within their obligations. In addition, there had not yet been any consultation between government and opposition to try to seek agreement on modifications to the electoral law.

In December 1994, a few months after the political deadlock that led to the departure of

President Konaré’s former allies from the government coalition, the Minister of Territorial

Administration and Security (MATS) asked political parties to submit their input on the 1991 electoral code for any necessary amendments before the 1997 general elections. The opposition considered this procedure inappropriate because it excluded any possibility of “direct discussion between state authorities and the political class and, therefore, did not allow for reaching consensual conclusions.”9 Instead, the opposition supported the establishment of a framework for a dialogue that would bring together all shades of political opinion in the country, claiming that this would be the only guarantee of a credible and inclusive electoral process. In February 1995, they wrote to the minister, but he refused to initiate a political debate “outside the inner circle enshrined in [the] Constitution.”10 The consultations for a consensual reading of the electoral code thus bogged down until May 1996, when the Minister of Territorial Administration and

Security (MATS) finally decided to invite all political parties to the discussion table (Baudais

2015, 422). However, these tripartite negotiations between the government, the opposition, and the ruling majority stumbled on two major issues.

First, although party leaders across the political spectrum agreed on the need to create a

Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI), they diverged on how it should be constituted and on whether or not representatives from the administration should be allowed to

9 See Collectif des Partis de l’Opposition, « Livre Blanc sur les élections générales de 1997 au Mali. » Bamako – July 1997, p. 10

10 Ibid, p. 11

214

vote when it came to decision-making within the body. Second, the positions of the ruling majority and the opposition increasingly polarized over the reform of the electoral system for parliamentary elections. It should be noted that the electoral code that came out of the National

Conference, and on the basis of which the deputies were elected in 1992, provided for a two- round majority-runoff party-list system in constituencies with one or more members. The electoral law provided 129 seats, of which 116 seats were elected by domestic constituents, and

13 seats representing the Malian diaspora were to be elected separately. The 116 domestic seats were allocated based on population size—one seat for every 60,000 inhabitants—among 55 districts, 49 administrative units (cercles), and the six communes of Bamako. The district magnitudes ranged from one to six seats, each “cercle” being granted a minimum of one seat.

The ruling coalition, the ADEMA-PASJ, wanted to shift to a mixed system that combined PR system, using the highest averages method in districts with four or more parliamentary seats, and a first-past-the-post party list system in districts that had one to three seats. The opposition rejected this proposal and made a case for a pure proportional representation system on a national list (see Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 62).11

After several rounds of unsuccessful negotiations that lasted more than a month, the government unilaterally initiated and submitted to the National Assembly a draft electoral code, which was adopted by the ruling legislative majority on September 27, 1996 (Diarra 2010, 235-

237). The new code provided for maintaining the PR system for municipal elections and the two- round majoritarian system for the presidential election. Importantly, for parliamentary elections, it proposed a mixed system along the lines of the one the government had wanted.12 The imposed

11 See also Abdoul Majid Thiam, « Projet de code électoral : tirs groupés de l’opposition.» Les Echos No 549 du 5 septembre 1996, p. 3.

12 « La majorité vote la loi, l’opposition refuse le débat. » Les Echos No 566 du 30 septembre 1996. pp. 4-5

215

electoral code also provided for a Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI)

(Nohlen et al. 1999, 570).

The question of the electoral reform—and especially the change in the legislative electoral system—was a highly political issue given the most likely outcomes that the choice of one alternative electoral system or the other would have produced. It was likely that, with the first-past-the-post part of the mixed system it wanted, the dominant ADEMA would be able to maximize seats in the least populated districts which were traditional strongholds of the ruling party. And at the same time, the proportional representation part of the mixed system would have allowed the incumbent party to minimize losses in large constituencies, where ADEMA was weak and where the majority system might have completely excluded the party (see Spitz 1997,

7). In other words, there were almost certainly seat maximization motives involved in the decision to change the electoral system, especially since the ruling majority had been weakened by internal strife after ADEMA came to power. In 1994, for instance, six left-wing MPs from the legislative majority abandoned the coalition to form the Mouvement pour l'indépendance, la renaissance et l'intégration africaine (MIRIA) (Smith 2001, 74; Cissé, 2006, 50).

In light of the power configuration at the time when the ruling regime was attempting to impose this electoral reform, however, the opposition was not strong and organized enough to pose a serious electoral threat to the regime (Baudais 2015, 423). Although the CNID—along with the Union soudanaise-Rassemblement démocratique Africain (US-RDA) and the

Rassemblement pour la démocratie et le progrès (RDP)—withdrew from the coalition government and proved vocal in their critiques of the government in the mid-1990s, they remained a relatively “powerless” political opposition (Smith 2001, 74). Obviously, the opposition saw in the shift to a mixed system an attempt by the ADEMA majority to ensure

216

dominance by relying on a manipulation of electoral rules masked as reform and, therefore, opposed the bill. The nine parliamentary opposition parties refrained from participating in discussions that led to its adoption. After having unsuccessfully requested the arbitration of

President Konaré, the opposition referred the matter to the Constitutional Court on October 1,

1996. In their complaint, they focused on four provisions of the law that they deemed unconstitutional (Spitz 1997). These included the electoral system, the composition of the

Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI), the presidential term limit, and terms and conditions for the presidential election. The fact that the Constitutional Court (which had been officially installed only in March 1994) quickly invalidated this draft electoral code was a historic milestone in a country where the judiciary had traditionally been subservient to the executive (N’diaye 1997, 212).

In its decision of October 25, 1996, the Court examined not only the provisions that were the subject of the referral by the parliamentary opposition, but it also surveyed all the articles of the contested electoral code and censored a total of twenty-four provisions out of the 190 articles in the law.13 Regarding the electoral system, the Constitutional Court concluded that the mixed electoral system combining elements of a majoritarian and PR systems represented a double departure from the principle of fairness. More specifically, according to the Court, there was a violation of the principle of equality between voters “whose votes are always taken into account” when seat are allocated through a PR system and voters whose votes are not taken into account when the seat is awarded through a majority system. Moreover, potential candidates—according to the Constitutional Court—would not be accorded equal treatment depending on whether they

13 Cour Constitutionnelle du Mali, Arrêt CC 96-003 du 25 octobre 1996.

217

were elected under a PR system or under a majority system. On this second point the Court considered that parliamentarians do not represent a constituency, but the whole nation.14

Noticeably, the Constitutional Court decision provided a judicial solution to a highly political problem. The opposition claimed victory because under Article 94 of the Constitution, decisions of the Constitutional Courts “are not subject to appeal.” 15 Therefore, the controversial provisions of the electoral code had to be rewritten by the National Assembly and the redrafting would have to consider not only the operative parts of the contested judgment, but also the grounds on which the annulments pronounced by the Court were justified. In this context, then, the decision of the court prompted political actors to seek a negotiation settlement over the electoral rules. Fifteen days after the decision of the Court, twelve opposition parties sought the mediation of the Malian Bar association (Tapo 2000, 279).16 With little choice but to do so, the ruling regime accepted to negotiate, and hence contributed to a compromise that emerged after more than two months of negotiations. More specifically, the ruling majority abandoned its plans to put forward a mixed electoral system while the opposition gave up its demands for the establishment of a proportional representation system. Both agreed to create an independent electoral management body.

The new code that emerged from this compromise was submitted to the National

Assembly, which adopted it on January 12, 1997, by 78 votes in favor out of 116. The compromise, however, was not unanimously accepted. Some fifteen members of the parliamentary opposition, united under the Rassemblement des forces patriotiques (RFP), refused

14Cour Constitutionnelle du Mali, Arrêt CC 96-003 du 25 octobre 1996.

15 Ibid.

16 See Abdrahamane Dicko, « La mediation du barreau pour la relecture du code électorale : la commission technique en branle aujourd’hui. » Les Echos No 601 du 16 novembre 1996.p. 3.

218

to participate in the vote, arguing that the code was not consensual (see Gaudusson et al. 1998).

Another parliamentary opposition group led by the MIRIA—founded in 1994 as a split from the majority party ADEMA—voted the code deemed “acceptable but not perfect.”17 The new code provided a proportional representation system for the municipal elections and a two-round majority run-off system for presidential and legislative elections. The total number of seats in the legislature increased from 116 to 147.

The national distribution of these seats was later determined by an additional law, which stated that the seats had to be allocated among the country’s administrative divisions, “circles” and, in the district of Bamako, “communes,” in a proportion of one deputy for every 60,000 inhabitants.18 It was also agreed to allocate an additional seat for any electoral district that has a population comprised between 40,000 and 60,000. Constituencies with less than 40,000 inhabitants were also entitled to a seat in Parliament.19 Moreover, the new electoral code allowed independent candidates and established a National Electoral Commission (CENI) comprised of

30 members apportioned as follows: 8 representatives from the government, 8 from civil society, and 14 from political parties (of which seven were allocated to the parliamentary opposition and seven to the ruling majority).20 The CENI was now charged with both organizing and overseeing elections and referenda (Baudais 2015, 423-24).

17 Interview with Nana Sano, founding member of the MIRIA party. Bamako (Mali), December 19, 2014.

18 Journal officiel de la République du Mali, 13 février 1997. Loi n°97-011 du 12 février 1997 portant loi organique fixant le nombre, les conditions d’éligibilité, le régime des inéligibilités et des incompatibilités, les conditions de remplacement des membres de l’Assemblée Nationale en cas de vacance de siège, leurs indemnités et déterminant les conditions de la délégation de vote.

19 Ibid.

20 Journal officiel de la République du Mali, 21 janvier 1997. Loi N°97-008 du 14 janvier 1997 portant loi électorale.

219

In sum, the attempt by ADEMA to implement a mixed system in the run up to the 1997 elections—the country’s second in the new democratic context—was less motivated by the perception of electoral threat than by the drive to mitigate opposition extra-institutional and extra-parliamentarian pressures. The involvement of the Constitutional Court and the Malian Bar association was crucial in defusing the crisis and bringing together majority and opposition to find a compromise over electoral rules. In the end, the ruling majority and the opposition made a mutual concession and abandoned their plans to put forward their preferred electoral system. In addition, a compromise emerged over an inclusive CENI, which was granted full power to run the entire electoral process. On January 17, 1997, the CENI was officially installed. A decree promulgated on the same date by the Council of Ministers fixed the dates of parliamentary elections for 9 and 23 March, the presidential elections for 4 and 18 May, and June 1 for the communal elections (Tapo 2000). Despite the compromises, however, controversy continued in the month leading to these elections as the opposition continued pushing for more transparency in the rules of the game. Although the initial controversies were related to the electoral roll, their ramifications were in the end to lead to another extensive revision of the 1997 electoral code.

The Politics of Making Electoral Procedures Transparent

Despite the compromise over the electoral system and the CENI, other antagonisms had brought a deep split between the presidential camp and the opposition, and continued to plague the electoral process in the lead-up to Mali’s second democratic elections. The fundamental bone of contention was the establishment of an electoral roll to guarantee reliable and transparent elections. Although the 1991 electoral code stated that “the electoral lists are subject to annual revisions, from September 1 to December 31 of each year,”21 the government had not undertaken

21 Ordonnance n° 91-074 P-CTST du 10 octobre 1991 portant Code électoral. See also Loi n° 97-008/AN-RM du 14 janvier 1997 portant loi électorale.

220

such corrections for five years. The question arose as to which electoral lists should be used for the 1997 general elections, since the reliance on the 1992 electoral roll would overlook the country’s demographic changes since then. To address the demands of the opposition, which organized itself to push for specific remedial measures with the argument that these would prevent post-election turbulence, the government decided to introduce a computerized electoral registry (Couloubaly 2000). However, this decision turned out very controversial for two reasons.

The first reason was related to the awarding of the procurement contract for the computerized voter list. Following an invitation for tenders launched by the administration, a company named TATA-Informatique was awarded the contract on the basis of the best and final offers. Surprisingly, the Minister of Territorial Administration and Security then took the decision to withdraw the award and to launch a new tender. The awarding of the contract to another company, Centre International des Technologies Avancées (CITA-Mali), provoked a wave of indignation amongst the Malian public because the new contractor was said to be close to President Konaré (Tall 2000, 365; Couloubaly 2000).

The second and far more important reason was associated with the creation of the new electoral rolls within the expected time-frame. CITA-Mali was working under the supervision of the administration, which was deemed partisan by the opposition, and did not meet the deadlines due to the complexity and slowness of the process. Indeed, the company was expected to prepare the electoral rolls so as to include all Malians aged 18 years or older based on the results of the general census of the population underway since early 1996, and to prepare voting cards based on this roll (Couloubaly 2000, 322; Nkoyock 2004). The computerized electoral roll was expected in October 1997, whereas the census results could only be available in December 1997,

221

after the scheduled elections. Under these circumstances, the opposition became increasingly doubtful about the transparency of the process and refused that the list be based on an unfinished census (Tall 2000, 365). Given the delays, the establishment of the electoral lists and the preparation of voter cards was taken over by the newly created CENI.

The fact that the CENI only took office in mid-January 1997, and yet had to organize— for the first time in the history of the country—general elections in place of the administration and with only two months’ notice did not augur well for the electoral process. The lack of experience of the members of the CENI and the composition of the body (14 of 30 members being representatives of competing political parties) contributed to blocking the electoral process. Indeed, the CENI faced “acts of sabotage” not only from the members from the opposition who were not ready to participate in elections, but also from the representatives from the administration who certainly did not welcome the fact of having been stripped of their prerogatives in the administration of the electoral process (Tapo 2000, 282). These contradictions eventually blocked the normal operation of the CENI, and further delayed the work of revising the electoral lists. Since the mandate of the previous legislature was coming to an end on April

17, 1997 and given that a failure to hold the first round of parliamentary elections on March 9 would constitute a violation of the Constitution, President Konaré sidestepped the constitutional issue by dissolving the National Assembly on March 3, 1997, and scheduling the first round of parliamentary elections for April 13 (Baudais 2015, 424; Couloubaly 2000, 23).22

Despite considerable financial and human resources at its disposal, the CENI faced enormous difficulties in organizing the first round of these legislative elections in the short time- frame available, and indeed they were held under conditions marked by enormous problems.

22 According to the constitutional provisions for calling elections after a premature dissolution of the legislature, prior to the end of its full term.

222

Following this electoral fiasco, which underlined the lack of preparedness of the commission, the opposition united against the ruling party ADEMA and formed the Collectif des partis politiques de l’opposition (COPPO) (Baudais 2015). The COPPO brought together a dozen political parties, which adopted a hardline stance and demanded the resignation of the government, the dissolution of the CENI, the revision of the electoral roll, and the freezing of the entire electoral process until conditions allowing the holding of fair and credible elections were met (Cissé 2006, 71). On

April 24, after two weeks of relentless pressure marked by episodes of violence, the

Constitutional Court invalidated the first round of legislative elections on the grounds that they were fundamentally flawed due to the absence of the electoral rolls in many polling stations and other serious irregularities that challenged the fairness of the vote (Nohlen et al. 1999, 570; Tapo

2000).

Because the ruling party wanted to avoid a prolonged political stalemate and further delays in the holding of elections, it set the first and second rounds of the presidential elections for 4 and 11 May, while attempting to pursue negotiations with the COPPO. However, the refusal by the regime to further interrupt the electoral schedule shut down any opportunities for dialogue with the leaders of the COPPO, who decided to boycott the rest of the election process.

Notwithstanding incendiary rhetoric by the opposition leaders, who called for the Malian people to rise up against the dominant ADEMA to stop the electoral process, public support for such a call was utterly lacking. The presidential election was thus eventually held in May 1997, and legislative elections were re-run in July and August despite an almost general opposition boycott of both polls (Smith 1998, 33). This boycott allowed Konaré to secure a second term in office in the first round of the presidential poll with 95.9% of votes cast, while ADEMA obtained a sweeping majority in the National Assembly (130 seats out of 147) (Baudais 2015, 424-25).

223

In protest, the opposition parties mobilized through campaigns of denunciation and protest marches against the installation of the reelected President, to whom they denied any legitimacy. In response, the ruling party for the first time confronted the opposition with systematic recourse to repressive measures. This strategy hardened positions, especially after the arrest of several leaders of the COPPO in June, following the death of an undercover police officer who was badly beaten by the crowd, though they were later released provisionally thanks to the mediation of the civil society. However, the confrontation also provoked divisions within the COPPO, and motivated some political parties and the moderate wing of the Rassemblement pour la démocratie et le progrès (RDP) to create a more moderate group which they labeled the

“democratic opposition” (Chauzal 2011).

President Konaré, who sought to ensure the peaceful unfolding of his second and final term of office, opened a new series of consultations with representatives of the political class and civil society in August 1997, but he failed to get the so called “radical” opposition on board.

Despite political unrest initiated by the COPPO, whose leaders called for “civil disobedience” in the entire territory, the domination and resilience of the ruling ADEMA over the political game prevailed throughout the late 1990s. One reason for this was that opposition pressures in 1997 and 1998 took place in very different context than the events subsequent to the overthrow of

Moussa Traoré in 1991, when a coalition of pro-democratic movement—including labor unions, student organizations, and intellectuals—had led a broad civil uprising that forced reformist elements within the military to overthrow the authoritarian regime. Seven years after these events, the Malian political landscape had changed dramatically. Civil society organizations were not as cohesive as they were a few years earlier, while opposition parties were now often at odds with each other (Baudais 2015, 364).

224

Further internal divisions emerged among the COPPO when the US-RDA recognized the legitimacy of the regime in May 1998. Marginalized and left with limited resources to conduct a genuine large-scale campaign against the ruling regime, the radical opposition parties met great difficulties in maintaining the loyalty of their members and followers. Although the COPPO did not recognize the newly-elected political authorities, it accepted to negotiate directly with

President Konaré for another round of extensive revision of the electoral code, particularly in view of the forthcoming local elections which had now been postponed until April 1998 (Cissé

2006, 71).

A New Consensus over Institutions

Since coming to power in 1992, President Konaré had cultivated the image of a democratic president who had the ambition to govern in conjunction with others, using the inclusive formula of the National Conference as the foundation for his governance (Wing 2008,

62-3). In this spirit, and in order to improve the responsiveness of Malian democratic institutions in his second term in office, his administration convened a “National Political Forum” in an effort to resolve the political tensions that continued after the elections. The Forum was designed to serve as a framework for bringing actors across the political and social spectrum to rethink and improve the overall institutional framework (Wing 2008, 62). In late 1998 a “National

Preparatory Committee,” institutionally linked to the Ministry of Relations with Institutions and

Parties, was put in place to propose draft amendments to the basic texts (e.g., the constitution, the electoral code, the charter of political parties, the status of the opposition, and the press law).23

Regional consultations around the country—the first phase of the Forum—were held from 10 to

15 December, 1998 and the conclusions of the discussions were reported during the final

23 Le décret n° 98-384/P-RM du 20 novembre 1998.

225

National Round Table of the National Political Forum which took place from 21 to 27 January

1999 (Chauzal 2011).

The Forum brought together over 370 participants, including representatives from the government, the Constitutional Court, and the National Assembly as well as various representatives from all political parties and religious leaders. Like at the 1991 National

Conference, participants were assigned to different workshops and were able to meet with a broad consensus in plenary. The amendment to the electoral rules proposed by the Forum touched on the CENI and the electoral system. Regarding the electoral system, participants to the

Forum agreed to maintain the existing two-round majority runoff system for the presidential and parliamentary elections and to retain the PR system for local elections. Due to shortcomings in the operation of the electoral management body, the Forum recommended scaling down the number of CENI members to fifteen (Baudais 2015, 426). Moreover, the CENI as envisaged by the Forum would have the same more limited powers as the Senegalese Observatoire national des élections (ONEL)—to oversee and to monitor the electoral process, but not to organize or administer the elections

These recommendations of the Forum were included in the new electoral law passed by the National Assembly in March 2, 1999. After having been being stripped of most of its prerogatives following the 1997 electoral reform, the Ministry of Territorial Administration and

Security (MATS) recovered most of its powers including the technical and material organization of all elections and referenda, as well as the centralization and the declaration of provisional results of elections. The new electoral law established a new body called the Délégation générale aux élections (DGE) which would be located within the MATS, again similar to the Direction générale des élections (DGE) created in Senegal in September 1997. Three structures (the

226

MATS, the DGE, and the CENI) were now responsible for the governance of the electoral process. More specifically, the CENI was entrusted with controlling and supervising all elections and referenda, while the MATS—which in the meantime had become the Ministère de l’administration territoriale et des collectivité locales (MATCL)—and, particularly, the DGE were responsible for establishing and managing the electoral roll as well as the public financing of political parties (Baudais 2015, 430-31).

By the time of the 2002 elections, the DGE, in perfect synergy with the CENI, had successfully developed the computerized electoral list and personalized voter cards. Despite the refusal of the radical opposition to participate in the National Political Forum of January 1999, the reforms appeared to have been a significant step in advancing a democratic political climate.

Although President Konaré’s attempt to defuse political tensions proved relatively less successful—the leaders of what was left of the COPPO maintained a firmly opposing stance— the culture of dialogue and negotiation instituted by the government contributed to shaping the

Malian path to democracy by the end of Konaré’s decade-long presidency in 2002. The election of Amadou Toumani Touré—the one-time hero of the overthrow of Moussa Traore and the instauration of Mali’s democratic regime in 2002—via peaceful and credible elections demonstrated how the adoption of electoral rules accepted if not by all, at least by the majority of stakeholders, could lead to what a genuine and functional multiparty system.

Conclusion

The cases of electoral reform discussed in this chapter provide an understanding of changes in and persistence of electoral institutional in times of “normal politics.” Once initial electoral rules had been chosen in the exceptional circumstances of the democratic transitions, political actors shifted their attention toward the functioning of the system and in pursuit of a gradual improvement of the procedures and structures that govern and regulate the entire

227

electoral process. The examination of these experiences of electoral reform in Mali and Senegal allows us to capture three main patterns as far as negotiated reforms in normal politics are concerned.

First of all, it sheds light on how ruling parties—the PS in Senegal and ADEMA in Mali in this case—can continue to dominate the political process and control the scope and implementation of political and electoral reform. Almost all instances of electoral reform during the democratic period in Mali and Senegal were driven by extra-institutional pressures, though one needs to be cautious not to dismiss the importance of electoral threats in also influencing changes in electoral rules. The main contingent factor was generally public distrust, though not usually in the prevailing electoral system itself, but rather mostly in the deficiencies in the administration of the electoral process. This sentiment is usually sparked by an event in which the outcome of an electoral contest generates the perception of electoral malpractice, encouraging post electoral protests and strengthening opposition pressures for reform. This was clearly the case in Mali following the 1997 election. This was also true of reform prospects in

Senegal when public pressures following the 1988 electoral prompted the PS to negotiate with the opposition parties over the rules of the game, rather than unilaterally imposing them from above. Obviously, these advances toward establishing a more inclusive electoral code in Senegal proved disappointing at various stages of the 1993 national elections. As in the past, there was widespread perception that the opposition was not able to secure more seats not necessarily because of the mixed electoral system, but because the dominant PS retained control over the administration of the electoral process. Subsequently, and as in Mali until 1998, the opposition adopted a strategy of threatening the tenure and stability of the regime by denouncing the administration of the elections by the Ministry of the Interior, the purposive reorganization of the

228

judiciary to weaken the independence of the judges in adjudicating electoral disputes, and amendments to the electoral code by the PS-dominated legislature.

Second, similar patterns in the outcomes of electoral reform efforts can be observed despite difference in political trajectories. In both Senegal and Mali, the electoral system did not in fact change during the democratic period, but for quite different reasons. In Senegal, for instance, while a compromise was reached over the 1992 code which contained provisions aiming to guarantee “free and fair” elections—including the mandatory use of voting booths and voter identification—the mixed (parallel) electoral system for legislative election was deemed non-negotiable by the ruling regime and was never fundamentally challenged in any case. In

Mali, in contrast, there was an attempt to change the two-round majority run-off system introduced in 1992 when, in September 1996, the government used its supermajority in the parliament to impose a mixed electoral system after several rounds of unsuccessful negotiations with the opposition. However, the Constitutional Court invalidated this draft electoral code on the grounds that it was unconstitutional. The subsequent mediation of the Malian Bar association which facilitated the negotiations over the January 1997 electoral code is suggestive of how mechanisms of negotiated institutional reform can lead to a compromise over the most controversial electoral rules. Indeed, that the ruling majority in Mali abandoned plans to put forward a mixed electoral system whereas the opposition gave up clinging to the demand for a proportional representation system helped defuse tensions, though temporarily. The growing institutionalization of such a negotiation process suggests that genuine multiparty politics is contingent on the gradual acceptance of electoral rules if not by all, at least by the majority of stakeholders.

229

Third, while the spirit of cooperation between the administration and the main political actors in the electoral domain was previously lacking in both Mali and Senegal, it gradually became more and more the norm in institutional design during the 1990s. Despite partisan differences, political actors were willing to overcoming the electoral deficiencies that in the past had marred the electoral process. The establishment of the Commission nationale de réforme du code électorale (CNRCE) and the Comission cellulaire that facilitated negotiation over the electoral code in Senegal in 1992 and the creation of the ONEL, as well as the holding of the

National Political Forum in Mali in 1998, provide an inclusive formula to resolve political crises.

This formula allowed opponents to reach compromises in an effort to improve the responsiveness of democratic institutions. In Mali, a formal framework for consultation between all political parties was thus set up by the MATCL and extended to other structures (CENI and

DGE) in the run up to the 2002 elections. Today, the major characteristic of elections in Senegal and Mali is the presence of political parties and civil society organizations in all stages of the process, including the revision of electoral lists, distribution of voter cards, and the presence of party delegates in the polling stations and in the vote-counting processes.

230

CHAPTER 8 NEGOTIATED ELECTORAL REFORM UNDER PRAETORIAN SUPERVISION

Introduction

The recurrent electoral reforms which have characterized Niger’s experience with democracy are intrinsically linked to deficiencies in the post-transition institutional arrangements, and to the prevailing praetorian culture that underpins Nigerien politics (see Alou

2008, 93). The first elections following the 1991 National Conference brought to power a fragile government, which left the country prone military takeover. Indeed, since the democratic transition Niger has repeatedly fallen back into military rule (in 1996, 1999, and 2010), resulting in the removal of elected governments every time the country faced a political or institutional crisis. These military interventions in post-transition Niger appear to be very similar, and each was justified by an intention to end a situation of political and institutional deadlock. A distinction should be made, however, between those military coups that were marked by the armed forces efforts to hold on to power for their own sake (1996), and those in which the military coup leaders undertook to subsequently hand over power to a democratically elected civilian government (1999, 2010). Regardless of this distinction, every episode of military takeover was followed by a process of institutional and electoral reform, overseen by a caretaker military government.

This chapter discusses these cases of negotiated electoral reform in the name of improving democracy in Niger, and all mediated by military leaders after they had removed the previous government from office. It first discusses the initial dispute over electoral procedures and electoral administration following the democratic transition, and the discrepancies over the revision of electoral rules in 1993 when the deputies passed a bill to amend the prerogative of the existing Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI). In this tense climate, the first

231

democratically elected president, Mahamane Ousmane, decided to dissolve the National

Assembly in October, 1994 before it could bring the bill forward for a second debate. The chapter shows that these elite rivalries were partly generated by the combined effect of the electoral system for legislative elections and the semi-presidential system adopted by the

National Conference. This institutional configuration was soon to provoke a crisis and prompted further electoral reform. In 1996, following a military coup, the country shifted from the previous PR system with the highest remainder to a PR system with the highest average formula for the elections of a unicameral parliament with 83 seats. In 1999, after another military coup, the electoral code was revised again. Although the electoral systems for presidential and legislative elections remained unchanged, the administration of election has gradually improved.

The chapter also demonstrates that Niger’s electoral rules have evolved with varying success as far as electoral administration is concerned. Initially controlled by the Ministry of

Territorial Administration, the governance of the electoral process has gradually become more autonomous from the government and the administration since the creation of a Commission

électorale nationale indépendante (CENI) (Souna 2000, 272). Insofar as the adoption of new institutions may have a structuring effect on the post-transition balance of political power between actors, there have been intense political debates as stakeholders negotiate the rules that will regulate future electoral competitions after every military coup.

Initial Dispute over Electoral Procedures and Administration

As we have seen in earlier chapters, the Sovereign National Conference of 1991 represented a turning point in post-independence Niger and marked a key first step towards multi-party democracy. The advent of the Third Republic with the election of Mahamane

Ousmane as its first president on 27 March 1993, however, did not close the chapter on political turbulence. The PR system with the highest remainder formula introduced after the 1991

232

National Conference was partly meant to reduce the influence of the MNSD, the single party from 1974 to 1991, in the new democratic regime. While this system in fact allowed twelve newly created (and often small) political parties to win legislative seats, it also opened the door to government instability. Because the former ruling party, the MNSD, still enjoyed a strong social base, it was able to secure a significant number of seats in the parliament and was to benefit from the shifting political alliances that challenged the stability of President Ousmane’s tenure (Idrissa and Decalo 2012, 330).

It is worth noting that the National Assembly elected in the February 1993 legislative elections, right after the democratic transition, was dominated by four major political parties which had won 87.8% of the vote cast and secured 75 seats out of 83. They included the former single-party, the MNSD, which had emerged as the largest party with 29 seats. The Convention démocratique et sociale (CDS-Rahama) won 22 seats whereas the Alliance nigérienne pour la démocratie et le progrès (ANDP-Zaman Lahiya)—a major faction that emerged from the MNSD in 1991—and the Parti Nigérien pour la démocratie et le socialisme (PNDS-Tarayya) secured, respectively, 11 and 13 seats. Other small parties benefited from historical recognition thanks to the implementation of the PR system or from regionalist votes in their respective strongholds, based on the single-member “special districts.” Thus the PPN-RDA and the UDFP-Sawaba, which had structured Nigerien politics during the decolonization process, obtained two seats each (Raynal 1993: 91).

The MNSD’s strong showing in the legislative election presented a challenge to the new parties, and in their attempt to defeat the MNSD candidate for president, nine political parties formed a coalition known as the Alliance des forces du changement (AFC). In the presidential election Mahamane Ousmane of the CDS-Rahama was elected President in the second round,

233

held on March 27, 1993, with the backing of the AFC—thus prevailing against the MNSD’s candidate, Mamadou Tandja, who had in fact received the most votes in the first round (Salifou

2002, 301-302; Maignan 2000, 89-90).

Although the AFC coalition initially formed a parliamentary majority during Ousmane’s presidential term, disagreements soon appeared over the revision of electoral rules, a debate that had emerged immediately after the elections. On October 13, 1993 the deputies passed a bill that was designed to restructure the CENI. Among other measures, the bill sought to enhance the autonomy of the electoral management body from direct oversight by the Ministry of the

Interior, and to limit the prerogatives of government appointed administrative officials in the commission’s regional offices. President Ousmane refused to sign the bill and returned it to

Parliament for a second reading. He argued that the current arrangements and operation of the

CENI were adequate and that the changes proposed by the National Assembly were “logistically impractical” (NDI 1995, 10). The disputes on the amendments to the electoral code exacerbated tensions which had emerged between the government and the loose coalition majority in the

National Assembly. In this tense climate, President Ousmane decided to dissolve the National

Assembly in October, 1994 before it could bring the bill forward for a second debate.

The creation of the AFC majority coalition in the run up to the 1993 elections had been based on the need to make common cause against the MNSD (which had previously lost all control over the design of post-transition institutions), and the subsequent behavior of politicians within the ruling majority was difficult to predict. Given that the Nigerien democratic political arena was still in the making, there were significant uncertainties associated with the unanticipated consequences of the combined effect of the semi-presidential system and the electoral system that emerged from the National Conference (Maignan 2000, 85). After the

234

February 1993 legislative elections, the parliament had often disagreed with President Ousmane over various policy issues (Salifou 2002, 309). These divergences culminated in a political crisis in September 1994 causing the resignation of Prime Minister Issoufou after his party—the Parti

Nigerien pour la democratie le socialisme (PNDS-Tarayya)—withdrew from the parliamentary majority coalition. The departure of the PNDS-Tarayya left President Ousmane’s former majority alliance with only 37 of the 83 parliamentary seats. An attempt by the President to appoint a new prime minister from within the ranks of what remained of the AFC ruling coalition failed after a motion of no confidence was voted by the new legislative majority, comprised of deputies from the MNSD and the PNDS (see Maignan 2000, 93).

Political disagreements took an unexpected turn when, on October 15, 1994, President

Ousmane dissolved the parliament, which would oblige him to schedule new legislative elections within 90 days, as provided for under the Nigerien constitution. Originally scheduled for

December 31, 1994, the date of these elections was subsequently pushed back twice (first to

January 7, and finally to January 12, 1995) given logistical concerns (NDI 1995, 10). In the interim, the opposition used this unfavorable situation for the ruling party as leverage for negotiation over the reform of electoral rules. On November 9, after a week of discussions mediated by six leading civil society organizations, an agreement was reached over further reduction of the role of the Ministry of Interior and an increase in the representation of political parties and actors from the civil society in the administration of the electoral process (NDI 1995,

10-11).

When the early parliamentary elections were held in January the final results reproduced the power relations observed during the previous legislature. The MNSD—the former ruling party and the main opposition in the outgoing parliament—secured 29 seats (the same number it

235

won in February 1993) whereas the ruling CDS-Rahama squeaked by with 24 seats. The PNDS-

Tarayya—i.e. the party whose withdrawal from the AFC ruling coalition a few months earlier had triggered the early parliamentary elections—ranked as the third largest party, securing 12 seats. As the CDS and its allies again ended up as a minority after the early elections, President

Ousmane quickly came into conflict with a new prime minister, Hama Amadou, appointed by the new parliamentary majority made up of representatives from PNDS-Tarayya and its former opponent, the MNSD-Nassara, and other small parties. The subsequent situation of

“cohabitation” between President Ousmane and a government backed by a parliamentary majority in which his party was not present led again to an institutional deadlock which paralyzed the political system (Grégoire et de Sardan 1996, 118). The difficult situation provided a rational for Colonel Ibrahim Baré Maïnassara, the presidential Chief-of-staff, to seize power in a military coup on January 27, 1996—pointing to political instability and economic hardship as a justification (Decoudras and Gazibo 1997). Thus in only three years Niger’s first experiment with democracy ended, undermined largely by the institutional configuration of the Third

Republic.

Shifting Away from the PR System with the Highest Remainder Formula

Coup leaders in Niger have generally justified the removal of democratically elected governments as a response to the failure of civilian rule and party politics (Maidoka 2008, 215).

The 1996 military takeover presented itself as a regulatory mechanism aimed at restoring some confidence in the democratic process and it eventually drew support from large segments of the population. Indeed, immediately following the coup neither civilian associations nor political parties tried to challenge the junta, which was regarded as a praetorian guard (see Salifou 2002,

314; Maignan 2000, 108). It is worth noting that the coup was not directed by the military high command, but rather carried out by a fringe group of mid-ranking officers. Because the coup

236

leaders did not automatically gain the support of all junior officers and lower ranks, the junta was forced to include civilians in the management of power, and to seek the allegiance of key big men in the country (Alou 2008). This action was, however, not aimed at promoting radical change in the political system. It was rather a reaction in an attempt to overcome the shortcomings that had motivated the praetorian intervention in the first place—the institutional crisis.

In this spirit, Maïnassara, who became the leader of the Conseil de salut national (CSN), convened a Forum national de renouveau démocratique. Headed by a Conseil des Sages

(Council of Wise Men), entrusted to the former President from the single party regime, Ali

Saïbou, this Forum had the mandate to propose new basic texts (Villalón and Idrissa 2005, 39).

The Forum was held in Niamey from 1 to 7 April 1996, and included 600 delegates

(Abdourhamane 1996). Prior to the Forum, the military had put in place Comité de coordination

(Coordinating Committee) composed largely of legal expert and magistrates who were entrusted with the design of basic texts: the constitution, the electoral code, and charter of political parties

(see Abdourhamane 1996, 79; Maignan 2000, 109). These were adopted by the Forum held without the participation of the main political parties accused of being the cause of the institutional deadlock that led to the military takeover.

It is clear that the Forum was held under the control of the military and had very limited autonomous power. Describing the attempt by the junta to compel participant to adopt the new texts by consensus and the subsequent reaction from the leading parties, Abdourhamane (1996,

80) notes:

The Forum, which involved threats and intimidations, was a miniature reproduction of power relations that had prevailed since the coup. Supporters of the military believe that the agenda, namely the drafting of new rules of the game should not be patterned after the July 1991 Sovereign National Conference. Consequently, any

237

procedure involving competition and criticism was to be discarded in favor of a co- option of members and the need to reach decisions by consensus. Despite the trend toward unanimity, participants were reluctant or refused to move forward in the official direction set out by the initiators of the Forum. And political parties, although banned, have not failed to make their voices heard behind some statements. Well aware of the consequences of the electoral system for future electoral battles, politicians revealed their preferences. Thus, the CDS and the MNSD opted for a presidential system and a majority system, while the PNDS expressed disagreement and proposed a semi-presidential system and a proportional representation system.

The exclusion of the major political parties and the inclusion of carefully selected civilians in the Forum, under the supervision of the military, are suggestive of the high degree of influence of the armed forces in shaping the outcome of this effort at institutional reform. The new electoral code that came out of this Forum provided for a CENI with national and sub- national representation, and responsible for organizing and overseeing elections (Di Lorenzo and

Sborgi 2001, 471).1 To avoid the excessive party fragmentation and institutional crisis that characterized the Nigerien Third Republic, a PR system with the highest average method was applied to the election of the legislature, which continued as a unicameral parliament with 83 seats. The majority of seats were allocated by closed-list PR system with the highest average formula in eight multi-member constituencies corresponding to Niger’s administrative regions— with between 4 and 14 seats per constituency depending on the population size. Again as with the previous system, the remaining seats were allocated based on simple majority formula in eight single-member constituencies corresponding to a concentration of certain ethnic minorities

(Di Lorenzo and Sborgi 2001, 47; Baudais and Sborgi 2006, 162).

The design of these electoral rules sheds light on the true motives of the junta. Their professed efforts to carry to completion the process of institutional reforms did not in fact

1 See the Ordonnance N° 96 – 014 du 16 avril 1996 portant code electoral. The CENI is responsible for the organizing, administrating, and overseeing elections and referenda. It is independent of all political authority.

238

translate into an inclination to hand over power to democratically elected civil authorities. While the shift away from the previous PR system with the highest remainder formula was meant to be for the better, it begged the question of the meaning of such a relatively modest change in terms of real political representation, especially in so far as the military controlled the electoral process and put power into the hands of Maïnassara’s newly formed party, the Ralliement pour la démocratie et le progrès (RDP). Indeed Maïnassara, who had previously promised to hand over power to democratically elected civilians after the transition, decided to stand for the presidency himself. Although in the official results Maïnassara won the presidential election in the first round in July 1996 (Decoudras and Gazibo 1997), opposition parties immediately contested the outcome and came together under the Front pour la restauration et la défense de la démocratie

(FRDD) against the military regime.

Indeed the elections were deeply flawed. The fact that the Ministry of Interior dissolved the CENI hours before the completion of the voting, and replaced it with a Commission nationale de élections (CNE) on the grounds that the former was not up to the task of administrating the electoral process cast serious doubts over the fairness of the electoral results (Abdourhamane

1996, 89). That the opposition boycotted the subsequent legislative elections in November allowed a large and easy victory for Maïnassara’s party, the RDP (Di Lorenzo and Sborgi 2001,

471). However, public outrage at electoral malpractice, against the backdrop of continuing economic hardship, sparked ongoing social and political tensions that gradually seemed to threaten the stability of the military regime (Salifou 2002, 321).

To defuse the pressure, the government accepted to again negotiate with the opposition over electoral rules before the 1999 regional and municipal elections. The discussion took place in late July 1998 and resulted in the signing of a negotiated Memorandum of Understanding. The

239

key provisions of the agreement included the reestablishment and composition of the

Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI) and procedures regarding the appointment of its members, the management of the electoral roll, the composition of the

Constitutional Chamber of the Supreme Court, equitable access to state media, and measures against the use of state resources for partisan purposes (Maignan 2000, 116).2 Despite this compromise, controversies surfaced again after the April 1999 local elections. The fact that the

Supreme Court, partial to Maïnassara, canceled the results announced by the CENI in some districts won by the opposition triggered another wave of opposition extra-institutional pressure

(Maignan 2000, 121). As the subsequent political crisis dragged on, in a surprise and rare event in Niger Maïnassara was assassinated on April 9, 1999 by members of the Presidential Guard as he was about to board a plane at the airport. Following the assassination described officially as an “unfortunate accident,” Major Daouda Malam Wanké—one of the leader of the 1996 coup— assumed the head of a newly constituted Conseil de réconciliation national (CRN). The Fourth

Republic was dissolved and an interim government installed to prepare the transition to the

Nigerien Fifth Republic.

Improving Electoral Procedures and Structures for the Fifth Republic

The 1999 coup recalled that of 1996 in many respects. Indeed, the military caretaker government again put in place a technical committee responsible for proposing new basic texts and a Conseil consultatif national (National Advisory Council) in charge of examining and approving the proposals of the technical committee. Like the Comité de coordination put in place by Maïnassara to design institutions following the 1996 coup, the Conseil consultatif national

2 See Cours Suprême du Niger. 2002. « Le juge suprême et la gestion des contentieux des élections locales ». In « Les actes du Colloque de Cotonou 14-16 Mai 2002 ». Association Ouest Africaine des hautes juridictions Francophones. p. 59

240

acted as a deliberative body of sixty members including not only former presidents Ali Saïbou and Mahamane Ousmane, but also magistrates, the civil society, traditional leaders, and representatives of political parties (Maignan 2000, 127).3 Unlike Maïnassara who backed away from his promise not to run for office, Wanké and his military caretaker government made their intentions clear from the start, and moved to organize an election to hand over power to democratically elected civilians as soon as they had undertaken a number of electoral reforms.

Drawing lessons from past electoral experiences, the transitional government instituted reforms that significantly improved electoral rules. The electoral systems for presidential and legislative elections remained unchanged. The most significant changes during the transition from the Fourth to the Fifth Republics in Niger concerned electoral procedures and structures.

For instance, the revised electoral code provided for a Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI) which was now responsible for the electoral census, the management of the electoral register, the organization and supervision of all elections and referenda (Souna

2000, 273). Like the old CENI, the new one was designed to be independent of the central government and had national and local representatives. At the national level, it was composed of

66 members, of whom 38 were representatives from political parties. The remaining members represented civil society and the judiciary (Baudais and Sborgi 2006, 162-63).

In contrast with the old electoral code, the new one took further measures to guarantee the independence of the electoral management body. The particularity of the revised electoral code was the provision that the president of the CENI had to be a judge or magistrate. While this option reflected a need to make the body inclusive, further steps were taken to limit the

3 The inclusive nature of this committee, including the fact that it includes former heads of state whose terms in office ended by popular pressure of military coups, is highly indicative of both elite continuity and some measure of elite consensus about attempting to find workable institutions for governance in Niger.

241

executive’s control over the judiciary in the electoral process. As mentioned earlier, the Nigerien

Constitution of May 12, 1996—following that of December 26, 1992—had entrusted the

Constitutional Chamber of the Supreme Court with the task of settling electoral disputes and declaring the results of all elections and referenda. Given the alleged partiality of the judiciary in resolving electoral disputes during the April 1999 local elections, a Constitutional Court independent of the Supreme Court was established for the first time to take over the task of announcing the official results of the elections, and to adjudicate electoral disputes (Baudais and

Sborgi 2006, 162-63; Di Lorenzo and Sborgi 2001, 471). Also, the Conseil supérieur de la communication (High Council for Communication) was created to ensure fair access to the media for all parties and independent candidates during election periods (Souna 2000, 275).

The fact that the transition to democracy in the Fifth Republic was overseen by a military junta which duly handed over power to elected civilian authorities in December 1999 seemed to indicate that Niger had returned to a secure path of democratization, and to regain relative political stability. The ruling coalition, the Alliance des forces démocratiques (AFD), which came to power following presidential and legislative elections in October and November, was formed in the run-up to the 1999 presidential run-off. It backed the longtime contender

Mamadou Tandja, who had unsuccessfully run as the former single party MNSD's presidential candidate in 1993 and 1996. Although the legislative elections were contested by 5 party lists, the MNSD won 38 of the 83 seats, and formed a coalition with CDS, securing a comfortable parliamentary majority of 55 seats (Di Lorenzo and Sborgi 2001, 472).

In his effort to mitigate the perennial political tensions, Tandja’s regime created a Conseil national de dialogue politique (CNDP), which served as a permanent “framework for dialogue” among parliamentary and extra-parliamentary political parties on the most controversial political

242

issues, including electoral reform (Baudais and Sborgi 2006, 161). These efforts seem to have contributed to significant progress in terms of political stability, and Tandja was reelected in

2004 under good conditions widely judged “free and fair” and with little contestation of the results. This consensus was not to last, however, and the regime grew increasingly unpopular partly due to corruption scandals, during Tandja’s second term (2004–2009) (see Idrissa and

Decalo 2012, 425).

Making matters worse as the second term approached its scheduled end in December

2009 Tandja began to hint at his interest in staying in power, claiming that there was strong popular support for “continuity.” This was particularly controversial given that the 2009 election would have signaled the first time in Niger’s history that one elected government was replaced by another, and there was thus strong pressure against the change both at home and abroad.

Many political parties and Nigerien civil society organizations called on President Tandja to abandon this project, which he referred to as Tazarché (Hausa word meaning continuity).

Nevertheless, in May 2009 President Tandja announced his intention to propose an amendment to the 1999 Constitution, which provided for only two five-year terms for the presidency and specifically prohibited any constitutional amendment on this particular point (Grégoire 2010,

320). On May 26 he dissolved the National Assembly, which was largely hostile to his reform project, as well as the Constitutional Court, which had ruled against the proposed referendum to change the constitution (Idrissa and Decalo 2012, 427-28). The main political parties (with the exception of MNSD)—long plagued by infighting—all united to challenge Tandja’s unconstitutional project.4 On July 16, 2009, they created an “anti-Tazerché” coalition, the

Coordination des forces pour la démocratie et la république (CFDR). The front was joined by

4 Le Républicain, No 881 du 11 au 17 juin 2009. « Référendum constitutionnel et Tazarché: Le CDS s’oppose », p. 5. See also « Meeting du FDD à Koni : Faire échec au Tazerché » in the same document, p. 5.

243

several of Tandja’s former collaborators and allies including the former Prime Minister, Hama

Amadou, jailed for eight months in 2007 for embezzlement of state assets. On the other side,

President Tandja’s allies also demonstrated their mobilization capacity. Despite internal divisions and defections, the ruling MNSD remained the leading political force and a formidable electoral machine. Tandja could in fact rely on the support of the administration and traditional chiefs to force acceptance of a referendum, as long as the army maintained its loyalty to the regime (Idrissa and Decalo 2012, 117-18). Tandja also promised to maintain the constitutional provision granting amnesty to the perpetrators of the 1999 coup that resulted in the death of

President Maïnassara.

Notwithstanding the many objections raised against the design of a new constitution, the referendum was held in Niger on 4 August 2009. It proposed the dissolution of the Fifth

Republic and the creation of the Sixth Republic (Idrissa and Decalo 2012, 215). A “yes” vote on the suspension of the constitution would change the system of government from a semi- presidential system to a full presidential system, grant President Mamadou Tandja a three-year interim government, and establish a bi-cameral legislature with an upper house —a Senate.5 The fact that Tandja granted himself powers to rule by decree and went ahead with the controversial referendum opened the door to significant pressures. Although Tandja’s government subsequently held legislative (October 2009) and municipal (December 2009) elections—which he won overwhelmingly—opposition parties refused to recognize the legitimacy of the new system and boycotted the three polls, further widening the gulf dividing the two opposing camps

(Grégoire 2010, 321-22).

5 See EU Election Expert Mission to Niger Legislative Elections 2009. Rapport final–Novembre 2009, p. 35. Available at: http://www.eods.eu/library/FR%20NIGER%202009_fr.pdf

244

Despite all his domestic maneuvers, President Tandja and Niger were also increasingly isolated internationally. The suspension of the country from the Economic Community of West

African States (ECOWAS) and withdrawal all non-humanitarian assistance by the European

Union and the United States resulted in further protests led by opposition parties, civil society activists and trade unions (Duxbury 2011, 259; Baudais and Sborgi 2012, 453). Counting on extractive industry revenues (notably uranium), Tandja clung to power supported only by a tiny fringe of the army whose opposition could have fatal consequences for the survival of his regime. Despite his efforts to maintain their loyalty via reassuring gestures to the army, including the signing of a general amnesty—for both the rebels and the military—for all acts of war committed in northern Niger since 2007, he was ultimately unsuccessful. A military coup on 18

February 2010 ended Tandja’s “constitutional coup” and the short-lived “6th Republic” (Baudais and Sborgi 2012, 454).

Negotiated Reforms under the Fourth Transition in Niger

Upon taking power, the military set up a Conseil suprême pour la restauration de la démocratie (CSRD) led by Lieutenant General Saliou Djibo who became the President of Niger for the transitional period. The CSRD suspended the new constitution, dissolved the government and arrested Tandja. Right from the onset, the military junta undertook various acts demonstrating its clear intent to return power to civilians. With the Sixth Republic constitution suspended, on February 22, 2010 Djibo signed an order that vested the CSRD with legislative and executive powers and allowed him to rule by decree. Moreover, the CSRD established the institutional framework for the transition, which was to consist of two “permanent” bodies. First, a twenty-member transitional government (including five military and fifteen civilian ministers) was put in place on February 28, whose Prime Minister, Mamadou Danda, was an experienced administrator perceived as a politically neutral figure (Guiho 2013, 111). Second, a consultative

245

assembly, the Conseil consultatif national (CCN), made up of 131 members representing all sectors of the society (including political parties, civil society organizations, traditional authorities, security services, women and young people), was put in place to advise the junta on several issues including the drafting of a series of texts prepared by a nineteen-member ad hoc body, the Comité des textes fondamentaux (CTF) (Idrissa and Decalo 2012, 395). This committee was installed on April 7 and composed of legal practitioners and academics (mostly political scientists)6 tasked with designing the basic texts, which would then be amended by the CCN and approved by the junta (Baudais and Sborgi 2012, 454).

The design of the new basic texts was thus overseen by the military junta, just like the previous institutional reforms undertaken since the initial transition to democracy in Niger. On

May 19, 2010, Djibo, in his capacity as president of the CSRD, convened the Conseil consultatif national (CCN) for an extraordinary session to adopt the new electoral code prepared by Comité des textes fondamentaux (CTF). At the end of its working session, the CCN submitted its proposals to the CSRD, which reviewed and adopted them by decree on 27 May 2010 after discussions and a compromise over a number of provisions. However, many of the compromise proposals resulting from the special session of the CCN were not included in the May 27 decree.

Political actors complained that the CSRD had retained provisions of the draft electoral code prepared by the academic experts who had made up the CTF, who were deemed unrealistic about the realities of Nigerien society.7

6 A well-known Nigerien academic, professor of political science in Canada, Mamoudou Gazibo, was called home to chair this committee.

7 See Ibrahim Elhadj. 2010. « Ordonnance portant code électoral: Le CSRD casse le consensus du CCN ». Roue de l’Histoire N° 510 du 2 juin 2010. p. 3 ; See also Souleymane Maâzou. 9 juin. Des innovations du Code électoral inquiètent la classe politique. http://ipsinternational.org/fr/_note.asp?idnews=5898 (Accessed, March 22, 215).

246

One of the most contentious and divisive provisions was a requirement for a minimum level of education for candidates for presidential and parliamentary elections. The CSRD and

CTF argued that the quality of parliamentary representation is one of the major weaknesses of

African democracies. Although they acknowledged that the National Assembly should be representative of the population, they noted that this has the inconvenience of bringing in parliament deputies who are poorly educated and often unable to assume the functions for which they were elected. These justifications were met with hostility from political parties and some elements of civil society who considered that these justifications were contrary to the principle of equality among citizens. They believe that, in a nascent democracy such as Niger—where the level of education of the population is low (only barely exceeding 10-15% literacy rates)— requiring a Bachelor's degree as a condition to run for parliamentary elections was an unjust provision that could lead to a “tyranny of elites”, in a predominantly illiterate population.

This controversy reinforced the perception that the proposed electoral reform reflected the will of the military junta, and of some experts working at the behest of the military. The subsequent rapprochement between civil society and the political parties, who made common cause to challenge this electoral provision, played a role in forcing the CSRD to reconsider its position. Indeed, opponents of the new electoral code, namely the Coordination des forces pour la démocratie et la république (CFDR, which had initially been formed to challenge Tandja’s efforts to stay in power), held multiple meetings and other efforts to pressure the CSRD to modify the draft, and especially to drop the provision on the minimum level of instruction for candidates for parliamentary elections. These pressures eventually echoed among various strata of the population, and pushed the CSRD to consent to a slight rearrangement of the initial electoral code. A May 29, 2010 order signed by interim President Salou Djibo provided

247

provisional measures revising the most controversial points of the code, and this was further amended several times before it was finalized on December 28, 2010, following the adoption of the constitution for the new “7th Republic”.8 According to the revised code, candidates standing for deputy in the National Assembly were no longer required to hold a Baccalaureate degree, but a new provision specified that the various party lists must include at least 75% of candidates who hold the Brevet d’études de premier cycle—BEPC (a junior high school diploma). Moreover, the mandate of the legislature was extended from 4 to 5 years.9

Despite these intense discussions on aspects of the new electoral code, a broad consensus that emerged over the administration of the process, ensured the peaceful nature of both the pre- electoral and post-electoral period as the transition came to an end. In fact, following the military takeover, three other electoral structures had been created. The first one, a Commission

Electorale Nationale Indépendante (CENI), was now to be a non-permanent (i.e. a temporary commission established for a particular election) and decentralized body of 99 members representing political parties, civil society, and the administration. The CENI was responsible for the organization of the elections and for announcing provisional results. The second institution was the Conseil Constitutionnel de Transition (CCT), which was charged with examining and publishing the list of candidates for the legislative and presidential elections. Led by the judge who had presided over the Constitutional Court dissolved by Tandja in 1999, the CCT was tasked with adjudicating electoral disputes and declaring the official results of elections. In addition a third body, the Observatoire National de la Communication (ONC) was created to

8 See Le Sahel, N° 8050, 29 décembre 2010. « Le Chef de l'Etat signe une ordonnance portant Code Electoral et un décret portant convocation du Corps électoral pour les élections législatives ». p. 3. Available at : http://nigerdiaspora.net/journaux/sahel-29-12-10.pdf

9 See Ordonnance n° 2010-96 du 28 décembre 2010, portant code électoral.

248

regulate the campaign in the media, and to guarantee equal access to state media for all political parties and candidates (Baudais and Sborgi 2012, 454).

From the first session of the Conseil Consultatif National (CCN) in May 2010, an agreement had been reached over an electoral timeline. This schedule, however, proved to be too tight in light of the prerequisite efforts that were necessary for holding successful elections. Thus legislative and presidential elections initially schedule for January 3, 2011 were postponed until

January 31, by mutual agreement between all main political and civil society organizations. In the meantime, the electoral register that had been compiled for the 2009 general elections was updated. Although the CCN initially planned to include Nigerien nationals living abroad in the roll, this decision was finally dropped because of the potential financial implications (Baudais and Sborgi 2012, 455). The second round was held 12 March 2011. Thus, after a twelve-month transition, the military junta held elections for the third time in two decades in post-democracy

Niger (1996, 1999, and 2004). The fact that all parties, including the former ruling party, were allowed to present candidates in these elections guaranteed a smooth return to electoral politics in Niger. Mahamadou Issoufou, the leader of the Parti Nigerien pour la Democratie et le

Socialisme (PNDS-Tarayya) who had been for presidential elections since 1993 emerged as the winner in the second round of the presidential election, defeating Seini Oumarou, the candidate of the MNSD, which was allowed to contest the election (Baudais and Chauzal 2010, 9).

Although the inauguration of the newly-elected president on April 7, 2011, once again returned

Niger to civilian rule, the country has yet to prove it capacity to make its political institutions viable and enduring.

Conclusion

The cases of negotiated electoral reform discussed in this chapter highlight the specificity of Niger, where virtually all instances of electoral change after the 1991 National Conference

249

were mediated by military leaders after they had removed a previous government from office.

The need for repeated electoral and other institutional reforms under military supervision is a by- product of ill-conceived institutional arrangements during the initial transition to democracy, coupled with the long-lasting praetorian culture that underpins Nigerien politics. More specifically, the electoral system adopted during the 1991 transition was designed to reduce the influence of the former single party (the MNSD) while allowing small political parties to win legislative seats. However, the adoption of this electoral system along with the implementation of a semi-presidential system had the unintended consequence of opening the door to governmental instability as “cohabitation” proved unworkable. This institutional choice thus left the country prone to military takeover, as in fact occurred in 1996. Subsequent coups in 1999 and

2010 had different motivations; in each case removing from power a president whose maneuvers to stay in office had undermined his legitimacy. Each military coup was followed by subsequent attempts to reform the existing institutional framework, including the electoral system. For the most part, the final decision over which electoral rules to reform was made by the military junta, and largely informed by the institutional flaws that had motivated the praetorian intervention in the first place.

A summary may help to underline this dynamic. When on January 27, 1996 Colonel

Ibrahim Baré Maïnassara, then presidential chief-of-staff, seized power in a military coup which put an end to the rule of the first democratically elected president, Mahamane Ousmane, he promptly convened a Forum National de Renouveau Democratique. Headed by a Conseil des

Sages (Council of Wise Men), this Forum had the mandate to propose new institutions. The fact that the junta excluded the major political parties while including carefully selected civilians to participate in the Forum was suggestive of the influence of armed forces in shaping the final

250

outcome of this round of electoral reform. This seemed to be the case at least with respect to the shift from the previous PR system with the highest remainder to a PR system with the highest average formula for the elections of the parliament. While the official justification for this choice was to prevent the excessive party fragmentation and the potential for institutional crisis that had characterized the Nigerien Third Republic, subsequent developments produced other consequences. Indeed, the military managed to control the electoral process and to put more power into the hands of Maïnassara’s newly-formed party, the Ralliement pour la démocratie et le progrès (RDP), which ended up winning the 1996 elections. The perception of electoral malpractice undermined the legitimacy of the regime and sparked a political crisis, which eventually led to a new coup and the assassination of Maïnassara on April 9, 1999.

Drawing lessons this time from electoral experiences under Maïnassara’s rule, the transitional government under Major Daouda Malam Wanké significantly improved electoral rules. Although the electoral systems for presidential and legislative elections remained unchanged, a number of measures was undertaken to improve the administration and the integrity of elections. But the most significant changes in this regard concerned electoral procedures and structures. Indeed, the revised electoral code provided for a Commission

électorale nationale indépendante (CENI) responsible for the electoral census, the management of the electoral register, the organization and supervision of all elections and referenda. In addition, the Conseil supérieur de la communication was created to ensure fair access to the media during election periods for all parties and independent candidates.

While the 1999 elections following the new transition brought to power the former military officer Mamadou Tandja, the candidate of the former ruling MNSD, they were widely considered fair, and enjoyed significant legitimacy. And despite Tandja’s reelection under good

251

conditions in 2004, this did not ended the cycle of institutional instability. The coup which deposed Tandja in 2010 came after he unilaterally violated the constitution of Niger’s Fifth

Republic in order to extend his term of office. Again the transitional military government saw the need to undertake institutional reforms before a return to elected rule. Unlike the previous reforms (in 1996 and 1999), the reforms proposed in 2010 included a number of controversial points which were amended several times before they were finalized with the adoption of the new Constitution. Two of these changes are worth emphasizing. The first one was the extension of the mandate of the legislature from 4 to 5 years. The second was the provision that party lists must include at least 75% of candidates who hold the equivalent of a junior high school diploma.

Unlike the 1996 electoral process, the administration of elections in 2010 was more inclusive, thanks largely to the electoral structures adopted: the Commission Electorale

Nationale Indépendante (CENI), entrusted with the organization of the elections and the announcement of provisional results; and the Conseil Constitutionnel de Transition (CCT), charged with examining and publishing the authorized list of candidates for the legislative and presidential elections.

Despite these differences in post-military coup reform processes at each juncture in

Niger’s trajectory of democratic experimentation, coup leaders have been generally inclined to associate civilians in the design of institutions. This choice must be understood as being motivated partly by the that fact that the leaders of coups did not always enjoy the support of all junior officers and lower ranks, and hence needed to broaden their base of support. It is also quite striking that in 1999 and 2010 the coup leaders quickly and strongly signaled their intent to turn power back over to civilians, and did so. In the process, after each coup the junta convened technical committees involving civilians, and responsible for proposing new institutions. Thus

252

Maïnassara put in place the Comité de coordination in 1996. In 1999 Major Wanké created a

Conseil consultatif national most of whose sixty members were civilians. And again in 2010, the coup leaders created the Comité des textes fondamentaux, composed of legal practitioners and academics tasked with designing fundamental texts, and established the Conseil consultatif national to advise the junta on the new texts. In many ways all of these efforts to reform electoral rules might be seen as having strengthened at least some democratic institutions. However, the recurrent involvement of the military in the political game leaves open the question as to whether electoral or other institutional reforms in themselves can be a viable solution to the repeated political crises in Niger.

253

CHAPTER 9 CONCLUSION: ELECTORAL REFORM, POLITICAL STRUGGLE AND THE FUTURE OF DEMOCRACY IN AFRICA

Introduction

As democracy has spread and taken shape in many parts of the world over the past three decades many scholars have gone from asking why transitions occur to asking what makes a democracy “low-quality” or “high-quality” (Diamond and Morlino 2004; Beetham et al. 2008).

Because elections are core components of representative democracy, some scholars have emphasized that the holding of regular elections—even imperfect—would over time produce substantive democratic gains, especially regarding political freedoms and civil rights (Lindberg

2006). This argument is appealing in light of the quantitative improvement in sub-Saharan

African, where virtually all countries have introduced multiparty electoral competition since the

1990s. At the same time, electoral processes—from voter registration and the review of electoral rolls, through election campaigns to the administration of elections and the adjudication of electoral disputes—which initially left a lot to be desired, have gradually improved over time in many countries.

The design of electoral rules has been central to political debates and the search for viable political institutions in Africa’s new democracies. The initial electoral contests in the early 1990s represented real and historic breakthroughs in many countries. The optimism these transitions generated, however, quickly soured as electoral outcomes were contested and the new era of democratic politics became mired down in claims of electoral malpractice. Indeed, there were numerous instances of incumbent rulers attempting to manipulate the rules of the democratic game to consolidate their personal hold on power (Bratton van de Walle 1997), and many initial elections were decried as flawed and their results strongly challenged. By the late 1990s the growing crisis of electoral governance across Africa had escalated to alarming proportions,

254

seeming to threaten prospects for democratic progress, and leading to pessimistic appraisals for the future of electoral competition and democracy in Africa. Yet in many countries, these initial difficulties also led to vigorous internal debate and contestation, stimulating a search for electoral reforms in an attempt to revive the health of democracy on the continent. Subsequent debates over such issues as the need for improving voter lists, establishing impartial and competent electoral management bodies, and changing electoral procedures to improve opposition access to state-controlled media have underpinned the politics of improving the quality of election process.

This chapter investigates the relationship between electoral reform and the quality of democracy in Africa, with a discussion of how the processes of reform have influenced democratic development in Senegal, Mali and Niger. It argues that elections can contribute to the quality of democracy only if the integrity of a broad framework governing the entire electoral process is guaranteed. This suggests that there should be few restrictions on the registration of political parties and parties should be able to compete by the same rules. Genuinely impartial and inclusive electoral management bodies must be established. The judiciary needs to have the capacity to adjudicate electoral disputes impartially. Reasonable access to the media should be guaranteed to all contesting parties and candidates. Finally, the tabulation of election results must reflect the will of the voters as freely expressed at the ballot box. The chapter first discusses the existing framework regarding the assessment of democratic quality. Second, it examines three dimensions of electoral quality associated with electoral rules and applies them to Senegal, Mali, and Niger. These include the quality of the electoral system itself, the quality of electoral structures, and the quality of voting procedures.

255

Assessing the Quality of Democracy in Africa: A Comparative Perspective

A fundamental concern in mapping out the progress of democracy involves finding meaningful and valid ways to measure change in the quality of democracy itself (Beetham et al.

2008, 6). Scholars and practitioners have relied on various strategies to gauge what makes a

“low-quality” or a “high-quality” democracy. These include scale measures, categorical measures, mixed measures, as well as opinion surveys to capture citizens’ attitudes and perceptions towards democracy. However, the normative conception of democracy and the necessity to identify quality assessment criteria derived from clearly defined democratic principles and procedures pose the question of whether “a universal conception of democratic quality is even possible” (Diamond and Morlino 2004, 20). Diamond and Morlino (2004, 25-26) propose a broad framework that features eight dimensions of democratic quality. These include the rule of law, participation, competition, horizontal accountability, and vertical accountability.

Others dimensions include freedom, equality, and responsiveness.

Although these dimensions can serve as a starting point for assessing the health of a country's democracy, there are some factors that make it difficult to determine which dimensions are more relevant for comparative purposes. Empirically speaking, dimensions of democratic quality overlap and depend on one another, and changes along one dimension may induce positive or negative effects on others (Diamond and Morlino 2004, 21). Moreover, it is unlikely that a country could maximize all dimensions at once. As a result I would concur with Baker, who argues that the object of assessing the quality of democracy “is not to reach a single verdict on whether or not the whole regime can legitimately be called democratic, but to determine by empirical observation how democratic it is in its various parts.” (Baker 1999, 274) Therefore, the choice of quality assessment criteria requires a particular trade-off in dimensions reflecting the context-specific features of democracy. In the endeavor of undertaking meaningful historical and

256

geographical comparison, it seems suitable to first cast the definition of democracy at a certain level of abstraction, and make certain reasonable assumptions that can be applicable to Africa’s new democracies, which range widely in their capacity to develop and sustain democratic institutions. Dahl’s (1971) conception of polyarchy is, therefore, a convenient starting point because it supposes the acceptance of the core democratic principles that Diamond and Morlino

(2004) include in their measures: participation and contestation.

The electoral arena is perhaps the one that best embodies the essence of participation and contestation. Elections are the key feature that distinguishes a democracy from a non-democracy and the most visible expression of the sovereignty of citizens. The quality of democratic is high when citizens have the capacity to influence public policy issues through standing as a candidate in an election, joining a political party, voting in elections, joining a non-governmental activist group, or participating in a demonstration (Diamond and Morlino 2004, 23-24). Rights to political participation in the electoral arena are therefore preconditions for elections, but they go beyond the right to vote. Political contestation, on the other hand, makes elections an arena where political parties can freely compete for office. Participation and contestation are therefore two faces of the democratic coin. Democratic institutions have the function of ensuring that access to public power positions is dependent on the results of open and competitive process in which citizens’ individual preferences have equal weight concerning the choice of alternative parties or candidates.

Students of African politics have often focused on elections as the entry point for assessing the progress and the health of democracy on the continent. The near-universal adoption of multiparty elections in sub-Saharan Africa in the 1990s was welcomed with great enthusiasm as the beginning of a wave of “democratic experiments” (Bratton and van de Walle 1997).

257

However, “the fate of Africa’s democratic experiments” has left many open questions as to “how

… new democratic regimes [have] evolved since they made their apparently successful transition to multiparty politics” (Villalón and VonDoepp 2005). Bratton and van de Walle (1997) note that many new regimes were quickly affected by neo-patrimonial relationships—the utilization of state resources by incumbent rulers who transformed elections into plebiscites on the ruling party. Despite these shortcomings, other scholars proposed that repeated multiparty elections would, in the long run, lead to gains in democratic governance, particularly regarding the protection of political and civil rights. Discussing the multiple functions of elections, Lindberg

(2009, 45) notes that, “ [elections] are sometimes the ignition that sparks other processes, sometimes arenas for forces of positive change, sometimes constituting actors and their interests, sometimes events with their own dynamics and processes that tend to cause direct improvements in a country’s level of political freedom and civil rights.”

It may be true that even flawed elections can, over time, produce substantive democratic improvements as voters become aware of their capacity to hold their elected officials accountable and reclaim more civil and political rights. However, the reality is more nuanced in the African context, as evidenced by the varied experiences highlighted across many cases

(Villalón and VonDoepp 2005). Although virtually every country in sub-Saharan Africa has now adopted some form of democratic institutions and held repeated multiparty elections over the past quarter century, democratic development is progressing at a very uneven pace across the region (Villalón and VonDoepp 2005). As we have seen throughout this work, even in countries like Mali, Niger, and Senegal—which are the most similar among the nine contemporary states that once comprised French West Africa (AOF)—democratic institutions vary significantly in their degree of competitiveness and inclusiveness, and hence in their quality.

258

From independence until the 1990s, Senegal stood out regarding the openness of access to the political and electoral arenas, and more recently in the likelihood that incumbent candidates could be defeated. In contrast with other francophone West African countries,

Senegal has experienced two peaceful transitions between political parties as a result of close and contentious multiparty elections (in 2000 and 2012). Senegal has thus passed what Beetham

(1994, 160) refers to as the “transfer of power” test: when a government that has itself been elected in a free and fair contest is defeated in a competitive election and accepts the verdict.

Losing an election and accepting the outcome is the ultimate demonstration that even dominant players and their followers have confidence in, and are willing to abide by, the rules governing the entire electoral process. Despite repeated elections, few African countries can meet this threshold.

Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso have seen military coups that removed constitutionally elected officials from power. However, they have also made consistent efforts to restore democratic institutions and to make them functional despite significant challenges. In many other

Francophone African countries, the holding of regular multiparty elections does not seem to have produced substantive democratic gains. Countries like Chad, Cameroon, Gabon, and the Central

African Republic have also been holding regular elections since the 1990s, but the opposition does not realistically stand any improved chance against incumbents today. Simply put, although the “multiple elections” argument seems to have some merit, the actual progress of democratic quality over reiterated electoral contests is highly varied and contingent. While

“founding” multiparty elections following the departure from authoritarian or single party governments have often been formative moments of democracy in Africa, they have also often been decried as flawed in various ways, setting in motion political processes of contestation and

259

occasional reform in electoral institutions. The move towards a functional democracy appears to be a complex processes characterized by a never-ending assessment of the performance of electoral institutions at each iteration, and a constant drive to improve the quality of elections and to guarantee the integrity of the electoral process.

The key to my argument is that holding regular multiparty elections may be a means towards improving democratic quality, but how and in what ways they do so will vary widely. If elections are to ensure that citizens can fully experience some degree of democratic civil and political freedom beyond the electoral arena, they have to be free, fair, and meaningful. From the moment when a country begins plans for initial elections, it adopts a model for electoral rules, often by default, and almost inevitably with unforeseen consequences and limitations.

Subsequent elections can only contribute to improving the quality of democracy when the rules governing the electoral process are modified and adapted in ways that address context-specific problems. This includes a number of factors: political parties should be able to compete for power freely and by the same rules; a truly impartial and inclusive electoral management body must exist; the judiciary needs to have the capacity to settle electoral disputes impartially; and reasonable access to the media needs to be guaranteed to all parties and candidates. Finally and centrally, election results as announced must in fact accurately reflect the will of the voters as freely expressed at the ballot box. All these prerequisites can be summarized into three dimensions along which we can assess the quality of electoral competition: quality regarding the electoral system itself, quality regarding electoral structures, and quality in terms of voting procedures. In what follows I will review the broad sweep of the direction of reforms in Senegal,

Mali and Niger, as we have analyzed them in previous chapters, in an effort to assess how reforms on each dimension has affected the quality of democracy in all three cases.

260

The Search for Viable Institutions through Electoral Reform

The future of democracy in Africa lies in the quality of the rules governing the electoral process. In many countries, the series of small and gradual electoral reforms introduced over the past few decades have produced transformational change in the overall quality of elections, and hence in the quality of democracy itself. The fact that opposition parties have repeatedly described the rules of the electoral game as lending themselves to fraudulent practices and pushed for further reforms has been instrumental in efforts to ensure confidence in electoral rules and has enhanced perceptions of fairness in electoral processes. Whether electoral reform has unfolded as a result of an imposition or a negotiation between the conflicting motivations and interests of incumbents and opposition groups, ruling elite strategies of accommodating opposition demands in order to attempt to guarantee their own survival have had the unintended consequence of producing further democratic gains and even the potential for turnover of power, as was the case in Senegal in 2000.

The process of incremental reforms that strengthen electoral institutions can be observed in many African countries, including Senegal, Mali, and Niger—as we have seen throughout this dissertation. The various electoral reforms and the choices over electoral institutions made by these three countries are closely intertwined to the broader political trajectories we have seen.

While Senegal has remained on the path to democratization, Mali’s problematic democratic system collapsed following the 2012 military coup, although there were immediate efforts to resume the process of building democratic institutions. Niger’s democratic experimentation has been repeatedly interrupted by military coups, but at each interruption there has been an immediate return to discussions about appropriate institutions. The choices made at each crisis point in these divergent political trajectories partly explain the variations observed in their current electoral systems, electoral procedures, and electoral structures.

261

Stable Electoral Systems

Of the three countries, Senegal is certainly the one that has made the most progress in the establishment of a broadly accepted electoral system, progress which is embedded in the long process of incremental reform starting early in the years following independence. These processes were primarily driven by the need to address the potential for institutional instability.

When in 1962 the parliamentarian system entered an institutional crisis given the opposition between President Senghor and Prime Minister Dia, a new constitution was quickly adopted in

1963, and Senghor quickly moved to consolidate his position by establishing a plurality winner- take-all formula based on a party list in a single nationwide constituency. Although the new constitution recognized the principle of a multiparty system, the ruling party in fact inevitably held all 80 seats in the National Assembly until late 1970. When, in May 1977, Senghor took the decision to change the electoral system from the winner-take-all formula to a strict proportional representation system with party list in a single national constituency, he did so only when it was clear that the newly created opposition would not stand a chance against the PS, the only party with a national reach. The outcome of the subsequent elections in 1978 proved him right: the PS received a vast majority with 81.7% of votes (82 seats out 100), even if, it no longer maintained its monopoly in the parliament.

In the months leading up to the 1983 legislative elections, and as the opposition demonstrated an increased capacity to mobilize and contest, the dominant PS again changed the system, replacing the pure PR national list one with a mixed parallel system, and increased the total number of seats from 100 to 120. Of these seats, 60 were allocated by PR from the votes cast for the national list of each party, using the largest remainder method with the Hare formula.

The remaining 60 seats were allocated by a plurality winner-take-all vote in multi-member electoral districts. Although this mixed system has been revised several times since then, these

262

changes have only concerned the allocation of seats between the two electoral formulas.

Obviously, this imposed electoral system ran in favor of the then hegemonic socialist party; while ensuring multiparty representation, this system would also ensure the strong dominance of the single largest party. The fact that it discouraged coordination among opposition parties and created some disproportionality in the electoral results, however, also generated the perception of electoral malpractice. It became apparent that despite making considerable progress in building democratic institutions between 1970 and the late 1980s—notably in contrast to Mali and

Niger—the recurrent post-election unrests in Senegal seemed to pose a real threat to the political stability of the country. It was these very critiques of the process, however, that led in the 1990s to a series of reforms in other aspects of the electoral rules.

While ruling elites and opposition in Senegal were trying to reach political compromises in the early 1990s, the winds of democratization blowing across Africa had already reached Mali and Niger and had launched a series of institutional reforms. In Mali, as we have seen in Chapter

6, the consensual electoral law adopted during the 1991 National Conference provided that elections for the National Assembly should be held on the basis of a two-round majority-runoff system in constituencies with one or more members. If none of the party-lists obtained an absolute majority in the first round, there would be a second ballot between the top two candidates or lists. Of the 129 seats in the National Assembly, 116 seats would be elected by domestic constituents, and 13 seats by the Malian diaspora. The 116 domestic seats were allocated based on population size—one seat for every 60,000 inhabitants—among 55 constituencies: 49 administrative units (cercles), and the six communes of Bamako. The district magnitudes ranged from one to six seats. Mali still operates under this system, and attempts to revise it have yet to succeed.

263

Although Niger, like Mali, underwent a simultaneously and parallel experience of democratic transition through a National Conference, the two countries adopted quite different electoral systems. With the stated goal of guaranteeing the inclusiveness of electoral system and procedures, the 1992 electoral law in Niger provided for a unicameral legislature with 83 seats elected in two types of districts: eight multi-member (“ordinary”) constituencies corresponding to the eight regions of the country including the capital, Niamey; and eight "special" single- member constituencies. Each of the eight special single-member constituencies would elect one member using a first-past-the-post system. The remainder of seats were allocated in the eight multi-member (“ordinary”) constituencies using a party-list proportional representation system with the highest remainder formula. While there have been occasionally some modifications,

Niger continues to operate under a variant of this initial system.

The politics of electoral system reform during this initial period of democracy in all three countries was driven not only by seat maximization motives or by the need to change the system to contain extra-institutional threats. The motivations and variation in reform outcomes were generally dictated by various factors including the political context. At times, these reforms appear to reflect a genuine attempt to make electoral rules more inclusive and functional in response to real failings. Unlike in Mali and Senegal, the electoral system adopted during the

National Conference in Niger was to lead to institutional instability. While it allowed twelve newly created and small political parties to win legislative seats, it also opened the door to government instability. The National Assembly elected in the February 1993 legislative elections, right after the democratic transition, was dominated by four major political parties, including the former single-party, the MNSD, which had emerged as the largest party with 29 out of 83 seats. The fact that the first democratically elected president, Mahamane Ousmane, was

264

obliged to form a coalition in order to govern, while leaving the former ruling party in the opposition did not augur well in this semi-presidential system. This institutional configuration was to provoke a crisis, and prompt further electoral reform, when Ousmane ended up in a situation of “cohabitation” after the fragmentation of his coalition and the naming of a rival prime minister appointed by a new parliamentary majority. In 1996, to prevent future institutional crises, the country shifted from the previous PR system with the highest remainder to a PR system with the highest average formula. Despite challenges associated with the recurrent involvement of the military in the political game following institutional crises, Niger has continued to make reforms that make its electoral system more inclusive. In November 14,

2015, a new amendment to the electoral code increased the number of seats and created a new system for representing Nigerien citizens living abroad. The 171 members of the National

Assembly are now elected following three formulas. First, the majority (158 MPs) is elected by

PR from eight multi-member constituencies corresponding to the seven regions and the Niamey metropolitan region. Second, 8 members continue to be elected from the special single-member constituencies to represent ethnic minorities. Third, five members of parliament are now elected from single-member constituencies to represent Nigeriens living abroad, with one constituency for each continent. It should be noted that special and single-member constituencies are elected on a first-past-the-post basis.1

In contrast with Niger and Senegal, Mali has not changed it electoral system since 1992.

The attempt in 1996 to change the two-round majority run-off system, when the government used its supermajority in the parliament to impose a mixed electoral system after several rounds of unsuccessful negotiations was invalidated by the Constitutional Court as unconstitutional. A

1 See La loi organique n°2014-71 du 14 novembre 2014 fixant le nombre de sièges de députés à l'Assemblée Nationale.

265

second reform attempt occurred during Amadou Toumani Touré’s second term, as president, when he announced his intent to undertake reforms to strengthen Malian democracy, to address the gaps and shortcomings that had marred process over the past fifteen years. These proposed reforms included the implementation of a mixed electoral system. The reform process was officially launched with the installation, in February 2008, of a committee of experts responsible for making reform propositions.2

The initiative aroused great interest among the political class, civil society, and observers of Malian politics because the expert committee, commonly known as “Daba Diawara

Commission” (after the name of the man charged to head it) was charged with a reconsideration of all basic texts, including the Constitution of 1992. Given the attention that this reform raised and the different stages of the process—punctuated with proposals and counterproposals from various segments of the population—it seemed likely to succeed. The “Committee Daba

Diawara” submitted its report to the President Touré in October 2008. A revision of the constitution was officially launched in April 2010 with the appointment of Daba Diawara to the newly created post of Minister for the Reform of the State. The National Assembly adopted the draft revision of the Constitution in July 2011. But the project had not yet been submitted to a referendum, the final stage necessary before it could be promulgated by the president. When the

March 2012 military coup intervened, the reform process was abandoned.

Like Niger and unlike Mali, Senegal has continued to make changes to the electoral system. Although these changes were justified as a means to ensure that the system is inclusive enough to ensure opposition representation in the parliament, they have initially operated in

2 See Décret n°08-072 /P-RM du 07 février 2008 portant nomination d’une personnalité chargée de conduire la réflexion sur la consolidation de la démocratie au Mali. See also Lettre de mission N°00000030/PRM du 20 février 2008.

266

favor the dominant parties. For instance, for the 1993 legislative elections, 70 seats were allocated by a proportional formula on the national list and 50 in the department-level districts using party-list. For the 1998 election the ruling PS once again altered the distribution of seats, adding 20 new plurality seats and allocating the 140 parliamentary seats equally (70/70) between the two parts of the mixed system (Vengroff 2005). Disproportionality rose slightly and the ruling PS secured 93 of the 140 seats though it had only won a bare majority of the popular vote nationally (50.3 %). The large parties, including the PDS and the URD, profited from an emphasis on the plurality side of the seat distribution by winning in several districts, receiving respectively 23 seats (19.16%) and 11 seats (13.21%).

There are no fundamental disagreements over the electoral system in Senegal. Although at times the smaller parties demand for greater opportunities for a better seat-to-vote distribution, all big players favor the maintenance of the electoral system. After he came to power in 2000,

Wade—who had long denounced the maneuverings of the ruling PS—could have changed the electoral system to make it more inclusive of small parties, yet once in a dominant position he chose not to do so, and indeed revised it back in the contrary direction. For the 2001 legislative elections, for instance, Wade was able to maximize the proportion of seats for the SOPI

Coalition led by his party, the Democratic Party of Senegal (PDS), by reducing the size of the

National Assembly from 140 to 120 and moving from the previous equal distribution of seats among the two components of the mixed system to 65 on the plurality party-list system, and 55 on the national PR list. As Vengroﬀ (2005, 110) notes, the “PDS calculated that as the new party in power it could win a plurality in many departments, thus increasing its share of seats relative to its voter support.” This turned out to be the case as the ruling SOPI coalition received 49.6% of votes cast, yet secured 89 of the 120 seats. The Parti Socialiste, the former ruling party and

267

now the main opposition party, ranked second, receiving 17.4% of the total vote, corresponding to only 10 seats, all from the proportional national list (Vengroﬀ 2005, 110).

These choices of electoral systems, and the various efforts to modify them, comprise one important first dimension on which we might judge the quality of democracy in our three countries. It should be noted, however, that the more or less inclusive nature of electoral systems alone do not determine the quality of democracy. Beyond the system, many factors intervene to play prominent roles in influencing democratic processes by ensuring the integrity and outcome of the electoral process. Perhaps, the most important of these factors is the legal framework that regulates not only how authorities should administratively conduct an election but also how election stakeholders (such as parties, candidates, and voters) should participate in the electoral process.

Towards Inclusive Electoral Management Bodies

Good elections are not possible without effective electoral governance (Mozaffer and

Schedler 2002, 6). Electoral governance can contribute to improving the quality of democracy, or to undermining it, depending on whether the structures in charge of the administration of elections are independent or not. Until the mid-1990s, many Francophone West African countries had maintained a governmental model of electoral management (Fall 2011). The subsequent lack of impartiality of electoral structures generated intense debates over whether the administration of elections should be taken out of the hands of the government and transferred to non-partisan electoral management bodies, or at times a mixed body that combines features of the independent and the governmental models. Trends in electoral reforms in Mali, Niger, and

Senegal since the early 1990s show a move towards more hybrid and inclusive electoral structures. The role of non-partisan electoral management bodies as guarantors of the integrity of the electoral process became ever more important as distrust among political actors rose. Like

268

variations in electoral systems, the choice of particular types of electoral management structures has been determined by political circumstances and a push to make these institutions more inclusive and more autonomous from the government.

In Senegal and Mali, electoral regulations have restricted who has prerogatives over the administration of elections by dividing the authority to conduct electoral operations among different administrative bodies—that is between government institutions and independent or autonomous bodies—subjecting them to a mechanism of mutual control. In Senegal, notably, the

Ministry of the Interior had continued to organize and oversee the elections through its agents until the mid-1990s. Elections were thus supervised by the governors and prefects who, in turn, designated the presidents of polling stations. It was not until 1998 that the government, under intense pressure in the run-up to the legislative elections of that year, was forced to meet the demands of the opposition for changes in central institutions in charge of administrating the election process. As discussed in chapter seven, instead of creating a Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI) as many leaders of the opposition had demanded, President

Abdou Diouf had the National Assembly pass a bill, which created a mixed electoral management board composed of two distinct bodies. On the one hand, the Direction générale des élections (DGE) within the Ministry of the Interior would henceforth be in charge of the practical organization of elections and referenda. On the other hand, a new body, the

Observatoire national des élections (ONEL), would have responsibility for overseeing and monitoring the electoral procedures. The ONEL included delegates from different political parties and was to be involved in all stages of the electoral process (from voter registration to the announcement of provisional electoral results).

269

This mixed electoral management arrangement is similar to the one used in Mali today.

This electoral management structure in Mali was created in 1999 after a long process of negotiation between the ruling party and the opposition. The first elections in 1992 were organized by a Special Commission that included political parties and civil society organizations.

The temporary character of this body and the shortcomings noted in the organization of the

“founding” elections were to open the door for the future Commission électorale nationale indépendante (CENI). Indeed, throughout the 1990s, there was a persistent concern that the creation of an electoral management body other than the Minister of Territorial Administration and Security (MATS) was the ultimate solution to guarantee the integrity of Mali’s future elections. The lead up to the 1997 general elections saw new opposition demands, and in January

1997, after the failed attempt by the ADEMA party to impose electoral reform, the ruling majority and the opposition reached a compromise that led to the creation of the CENI.

While this inclusive electoral management body was now charged with both organizing and overseeing elections and referenda, the lack of experience of its members and infighting between them contributed to the electoral fiasco of 1997, and eventually to a new reform in

1999. Although the new electoral law maintained the CENI, it was stripped of many of its responsibilities in favor of the Ministry of Territorial Administration and Security (MATS), which now was entrusted with the technical and material organization of all elections and referenda. This would be carried out by a new body called the Délégation générale aux élections

(DGE) which would be located within the MATS, similar to the Direction générale des élections

(DGE) in Senegal.

Continued opposition dissatisfaction with the mixed electoral management body in

Senegal led to demands for the transformation of the ONEL into a CENI. Part of the critique was

270

that the ONEL was a temporary electoral management body, put in place only in an election year. During Abdoulaye Wade’s first term, and in preparation for the 2007 general elections, the opposition argued for a permanent and independent oversight mechanism for elections. To end suspicions about the integrity of the elections, the ruling majority and the opposition agreed to solve the issue through a series of consultations in 2004-05, which led to the establishment of a new body, the Commission electorale nationale autonome (CENA). Unlike the ONEL, the

CENA was to be a permanent structure, meant to guarantee effective oversight and control of the

Senegalese electoral process, although the elections themselves would continue to be organized by the DGE in the Ministry of the Interior. The CENA would be endowed with legal personality and financial autonomy and would be charged with the supervision and control of all stages of elections and referenda, as well as have strong sanctioning powers for violations of the electoral law. All these efforts to reform electoral structures were meant to foster trust in the electoral process by making sure that electoral management bodies are legally and institutionally autonomous in such a way as to guarantee the independence of operation and minimize discrimination or other deviations from the procedures.

Unlike the mixed electoral management systems in Senegal and Mali, Niger has opted for and maintained a CENI, which is in charge of both organizing and overseeing elections. The electoral law has ensured political balance in the composition of the body by prescribing representation both of partisan actors (from different political parties) and of non-partisan actors

(from societal groups). The current CENI, however, was only created as a result of a long process of discussion about improving the governance of elections. At the time of the first multiparty elections in 1992, a Commission electorale nationale (National Elections

Commission—CNE) was created and entrusted with their material organization. The CNE was

271

an inclusive administrative body, composed of representatives from the Ministry of the Interior, the financial administration, the security services, and representatives from all legal political parties and civil society groups (Souna 2000). Following the transition, the governance of the electoral process came under the responsibility of the Ministry of the Interior, but this gradually evolved in the direction of more autonomy from the government and the administration leading to the creation of a CENI.

The initial dispute over electoral administration in Niger started in 1993 when the

National Assembly began to discuss a bill to establish an independent electoral management body. The CENI was initially created in the months leading up to the early legislative elections of 1995, and was maintained after the 1996 military coup that brought Maïnassara to power (Di

Lorenzo and Sborgi 2001, 471). Subsequent developments, namely Maïnassara’s efforts to hold on to power instead of handing over power to a democratically elected civilian government, were to give a new twist to the evolution of the CENI. The fact that Maïnassara ran for the 1998 elections and that the Ministry of the Interior which was under the control of the military dissolved the CENI hours before the completion of the voting, cast serious doubts over the fairness of the electoral results (Abdourhamane 1996, 89). The following public outrage at electoral malpractice sparked the continuing social and political tensions that gradually led to the assassination of Maïnassara (Salifou 2002, 321). The subsequent revision of the electoral code with the return to democracy in 1999 restored the CENI and provided a further safeguard to guarantee the independence of the body. The CENI has since kept its reputation as one of the most enduring electoral institutions in Niger.

In sum, electoral management systems—whether they are mixed or independent—have become more inclusive and legitimate over time in all three countries. An important

272

characteristic of electoral processes in Senegal, Mali, and Niger is that they involve political parties and civil society organizations at all stages, including the revision of electoral lists, the distribution of voter cards, and the presence of party delegates in the polling stations and the vote-counting processes. This gradual inclusiveness of the process has contributed to ensuring increased confidence in the administration of election over the last two decade. The weak point on this dimension of electoral governance lies in the fact that electoral management bodies lack an independent source of funding. Their consequent high degree of reliance on the government for financing leaves open the possibility that their independence or autonomy could be severely compromised by executive manipulation and the power of incumbency.

Making the Voting Procedure Transparent

Although voter registration is broadly recognized as one important procedure in the effort to ensure that only eligible voters cast ballots, and only vote once, most new democratic countries in francophone Africa displayed significant deficiencies regarding the establishment of electoral rolls, the production and distribution of voter cards, and the identification of voters in the polling station. In most cases these deficiencies represented a gap between the standards set by the electoral law and actual practices. Until the late 1990s, most electoral reform efforts in

Mali, Niger, and Senegal were directed at bridging this gap. Efforts to prevent electoral fraud through voter identification has led to an increasing interest in and use of “biometric” processes, though with very mixed results.

Already from the Nigerien constitutional referendums of December 1992, flaws in the electoral process were identified, due primarily to shortcomings associated with voter identification. Most of these deficiencies were not resolved in the run-up to the legislative and presidential elections in February and March 1993. One major issue was related to cases of

“proxy votes.” The 1992 electoral code authorized only one vote by proxy, which was supposed

273

to be certified by an administrative authority. However, many heads of household—especially in rural areas—presented several proxies and managed to vote on behalf of multiple family members, most often their wives and daughters (see Maignan 2000, 89-90). These proxies were widely accepted during the vote on the constitutional referendum, given the absence of an electoral competition. But things took a different turn in the legislative and presidential elections, when such practices could be used to skew election results. Despite efforts to control this, it was challenging to persuade voters that this practice would no longer be allowed, and some polling stations continued to accept votes by proxy, against the electoral law.

Clearly, there was a gap between the principle of “one person, one vote” and sociological realities, and this was not unique to Niger. Until 2012, virtually all electoral reforms that were undertook were associated with the attempt to improve the electoral system and electoral management structures. The discussion on the electoral roll resumed only in December 2012 when the ruling majority and the opposition agreed to move forward with the implementation of the biometric system for the elections in 2016.3 Like in Mali and Senegal, the introduction of the biometric electoral list would allow the CENI to issue individual cards and put an end to the vote by proxy and the testimony-based voting that had undermined the integrity of elections in the past. The formal process of this reform started when the government, in collaboration with the

Conseil national de dialogue politique (CNDP), created Comité national chargé du fichier

électoral biométrique (National Committee in charge of the Biometric Electoral roll) to oversee the development and the implementation of the biometric voter lists. Although international partners—including the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) and the European

Union—were willing to mobilize resources to that end, the declining climate of trust and

3 Le sahel Numéro 8451, 24 décembre 2012. « Réunion du Conseil national du dialogue politique (CNDP) : Adoption du fichier électoral biométrique »: http://nigerdiaspora.net/journaux/sahel-24-12-12.pdf

274

confidence within the governing coalition, and attempts by the main opposition parties to create a new coalition in the hope that they may put the ruling regime in a situation of cohabitation prevented any progress in implementing the reform of the voting procedures. The process dragged until 2015, and it was evident - in light of the amount of work required to undertake the reform – that the new electoral roll would not be ready before the 2016 elections. The fact that these elections were finally held on the basis of the old electoral roll constituted a significant contrast between Niger on the one hand, and Senegal and Mali on the other.

Mali and Senegal experienced similar challenges during this early period, and gradually took measures to address them. In Mali the reliability of the electoral roll and the identification of voters constituted a major impediment to the quality of its democracy from the beginning. In the months leading up to the 1992 elections, administrative committees responsible for revising electoral rolls were created in each district and sub-district. The elections were marred by numerous problems, however and political actors began to complain that the electoral list was not reliable, and that this had contributed to the very low voter participation. Despite the provision of the electoral law that the electoral rolls should be updated every year, the government and the administration never implemented such measures. It was not until the months leading up to the 1997 general elections that the question again arose as to which electoral lists should be used. The opposition would not accept reliance on the 1992 electoral roll, given that it had never been updated to include the country's demographic changes.

Although the government decided to contract a company to produce a computerized electoral registry, it proved unable to produce the new electoral rolls within the expected time-frame

(Couloubaly 2000). Given the delays compounded by the opposition refusal that the 1997 elections be held based on an unfinished roll, the establishment of the electoral lists and the

275

preparation of voter cards were taken over by the newly created CENI (Tall 2000, 365). It was not until the 2002 elections that the DGE, in collaboration with the CENI, had successfully developed the computerized electoral list and personalized voter cards. It was on the basis on this electoral roll that Amadou Toumani Touré (ATT) was elected in 2002, as the country’s second democratically-elected President.

Few efforts were made under ATT to improve the quality of Malian democracy, partly because his policy of “consensus politics” suspended contentious debate in favor of distributing the spoils of power. This governance strategy, it should be noted, must be seen as having largely prevented democratic institutions from growing stronger, and hence contributed to Mali’s collapse in 2012. The debate over the reform of electoral rules resumed only as the end of ATT’s tenure approached. It revolved around various key issues: the membership of the CENI, the large number of institutions involved in organizing elections, the absentee ballot, testimony-based voting, and low voter turnout. Perhaps the most significant issue of contention was the procedure for creating electoral lists. The government wanted to build electoral lists based on the

Administrative Census of the population, known as RACE, which had been carried out in 2001 and which had served as the basis for the computerized voter list and personalized voter cards in

2002. The majority of political parties, however, preferred that the electoral list be created from the 2009 Administrative Census devoted to Civil Status (RAVEC)—a database they considered more reliable since it centered on biometric identification of citizens.

The RAVEC had been carried out in preparation for the 2012 elections, which were eventually canceled due to the coup only months before they were scheduled. After the coup, the existence of this new list streamlined the elections process since the majority of political actors and the civil society were favorably disposed toward biometric identification. As the weak

276

interim government which eventually emerged struggled to organize elections to return Mali to constitutional and elected government in July 2013, the decision was made to use the list to produce biometric national ID cards, known as NINA (National Identification Number) cards, which would serve as voter identification cards. The process for distribution of the NINA cards in May 2013, which was personal and required individuals to be physically present to collect them, constituted a big step forward in the effort to ensure the integrity of the resumed electoral process in Mali (Baudais 2015, 418-19). The implementation of the biometric voter ID cards and their successful use in the extremely difficult context of the hurriedly organized elections of

2013 seems to suggest a bright spot in the quality of democracy in Mali as measured by this dimension.

As far as debates about the transparency of voting procedures are concerned, Senegal is not much of an exception. Efforts to ensure the transparency of the electoral process have involved a constant push from the political class for a complete overhaul of the electoral roll.

After the 1992 electoral roll was established, a significant number of voters who should have been removed from the roll—because of death or a change of residence—continued to be included into the 1990s. Like in Mali and Niger during the early 1990s, the interior ministry had oversight responsibility for the electoral roll, but its establishment depended upon commissions comprised of state officials and representative from each legally recognized political party (NDI

1993, 12). Given the perception of electoral malpractice that marred the elections of 1988, 1993, and 1996 the government eventually accepted opposition demands to update the electoral register. In March 1999, a list of voters who had retrieved their voter card for the parliamentary elections of 1998 was used to form the core of the new electoral registry, and to serve as the basis for an exceptional review of electoral rolls which was to take place from May to

277

September. Twenty-seven political parties participated in this process which led to a 42% reduction in the number of voters from the electoral file of 1998 (Valantin 2000, 289-90), an outcome that was all the more important because it was considered to have the potential for limiting electoral fraud. It also appeared as a gesture of good will, allowing the ruling PS to enhance confidence in the rules of the electoral process.

In November 1999 a provisional list based on the exceptional review was edited and published on the internet in the interests of transparency. However, various complaints from voters that their names had been removed from the electoral roll, (as a result of the cleaning up of double entries) cast suspicion on Ministry of the Interior’s management of the electoral process (Valantin 2000, 290) and led to the formation of The Front pour la régularité et la transparence des élections (Front for the fairness and transparency of elections—FRTE). This front brought together five presumptive presidential candidates for the 2000 elections, including

Abdoulaye Wade, Moustapha Niasse, Djibo Ka, Mademba Sock, and Iba Der Thiam. Their strong mobilization for an audit of the electoral register was finally accepted by the Ministry of

Interior (Diop, Diouf, and Diaw 2000, 171).

In the run up to the 2000 presidential elections, another controversy related to the preparation of voter cards emerged. A company based in Dakar initially won the government tender and started the preparation of these cards but, for reasons that were never fully explained, the Ministry of the Interior interrupted the process and rescinded the contract. Instead, the

Ministry issued a new contract for the voter cards from an Israeli company, without informing the ONEL or opposition political parties. This fueled widespread anger and suspicions about the possible existence of another electoral register different from the one that had been established a month earlier. In response, and in an effort to reassure political actors of its intent to maintain

278

transparency, the government took the additional safeguard of including the opposition for the rest of the electoral process, and the so-called “Israeli voter cards” were distributed by committees that included representatives of presidential candidates (Valantin 2000, 291; Diop,

Diouf, and Diaw 2000, 171). The smooth conduct of the elections which followed reaffirmed the importance of ensuring the legitimacy of voting processes in mediating political conflict. The

2000 presidential election in Senegal was unique not only in that the election of Abdoulaye

Wade ended nearly 40 years of political hegemony by the Socialist Party in Senegal, but perhaps even more importantly for the fact that incumbent PS President Abdou Diouf readily accepted the outcome of the elections. On the dimension of voting procedures, the high level of confidence and trust in the rules governing the entire electoral process in the 2000 elections underlines the high quality of democracy achieved by Senegal on that dimension.

The debate on the electoral roll did not just fade away after the political transition in

2000. In the 2004, it resumed once again and eventually led to the overhaul of the electoral registry and the introduction of the biometric electoral card. Following the disputed victory of

Wade in the presidential election in February 2007 and parliamentary elections in April of the same year boycotted by the major opposition parties, their leaders demanded the government to carry out a joint assessment and a second revision of the electoral roll before the municipal elections of 2009. Despite the breakthrough of the opposition parties which won the local elections in almost all the main cities, it continued to demand an independent audit of the electoral roll before the presidential election of 2012. The fact that President Wade accepted to carry out an audit mission with the support of the European Union partners, the United States, and Germany, helped to enhance the credibility of this election which marked the second transition through the ballot in Senegal.

279

In sum, one way to understand the relationship between electoral reform and the quality of democracy is to break electoral rules into different indicators and see how each indicator contributes to our overall understanding of the quality of elections and democracy. Our discussion on electoral systems, electoral structures, and voting procedures indicates that the history of electoral reform in Senegal, Niger, and Mali is one of the recurrent debates about the quality of democracy along these three dimensions. Each of the three countries experienced different fortunes in its efforts to make enhance trust in electoral processes through reforms.

Comparing the progress achieved in this regard since the early 1990s allows capturing how far

Senegal, Niger, and Mali have travelled in the improvement of their democratic institutions.

However, our primary concern here is not to assess which of these countries is more democratic than the others, but rather to show how democratic each of them is regarding the dimension of electoral rules discussed above.

Conclusion

The cases of Senegal, Mali, and Niger have helped us explain analytically how the choice of electoral rules in any given country must be understood as the result of complex politics that unfold in different ways and for various reasons. For the most part, incumbents’ efforts to contain electoral threats or opposition extra-institutional threats through electoral reforms had produced incremental progress in the quality of electoral rules. Whether these reforms were carried out as a result of an imposition or a negotiation between the conflicting motivations of ruling elite and opposition groups, the series of small and gradual reforms introduced over the past decades have had the consequence of improving the overall quality of elections, and hence the quality of democracy itself. As discussed in this dissertation, the processes of changing electoral rules are also embedded in much bigger search for viable democratic institutions. The openness of access to the political and electoral arenas, and more recently the prospect that

280

incumbent candidates could be defeated in a competitive election demonstrates how far African countries have travelled in their effort to build democratic institutions and how tensions and negotiations between political actors over the design of institutions have affected the quality of democracy. Recent cases of peaceful and credible elections demonstrate how the adoption of electoral rules accepted if not by all, at least by the majority of stakeholders, could lead to what a genuine and functional multiparty system.

The experience of electoral reform in Mali, Niger, and Senegal discussed throughout this work suggests that the future of democracy in Africa rests on the performance and resilience of its institutions, including the broad framework governing the entire electoral process. Three decades have passed since the majority of African countries had adopted democratic institutions.

Electoral institutions, once young, have grown up and have had time to find their feet. However, there are still many challenges to overcome in the effort to make sure that the rules of the electoral competition hold the promise of regime changes. As long as progressive electoral reforms can increase the confidence in the rules governing the entire electoral process and guaranteed that a government that has itself been elected in a free and fair contest can be defeated in a free and fair election and accept the verdict, democracy in African have better days ahead.

281

LIST OF REFERENCES

Abba, S. 1990. La chefferie traditionnelle en question. Politique africaine, N° 38, pp. 51-60.

Abdourhamane, I. B.1999. Alternances militaires au Niger. Politique africaine, n° 74, pp. 85-94.

Abdourahmane, Soli. 1992. Conférence nationale du Niger. Les Presses de l’imprimerie des arts graphiques du Niger.

Ageron, C.-R. 1988. « La préparation de la conférence de Brazzaville et ses enseignements ». In Institut Charles-de-Gaulle, Institut d’histoire du temps présent, Brazzaville, janvier- février 1944 : aux sources de la décolonisation (pp. 29-41). Paris, Plon.

Ahmed, A. 2010. Reading history forward: The origins of electoral systems in European democracies. Comparative Political Studies, vol. 43, no. 8-9, pp. 1059-1088.

Alou, Mahaman Tidjani. 2008. « Les militaires politiciens ». In Kimba, Idrissa (Ed.), Armée et politique au Niger, (pp. 93-124). Codesria, Sénégal.

Ames, Barry. 1995. Electoral Rules, Constituency Pressures, and Pork Barrel: Bases of Voting in the Brazilian Congress. Journal of Politics, 57(2):324-343.

Amselle, J.-L. et al. 1993. Grands commerçants d'Afrique de l'Ouest : logiques et pratiques d'un groupe d'hommes d'affaires contemporains. Paris, Karthala.

Amorim Neto, Octavio, and Gary W. Cox. 1997. Electoral Institutions, Cleavage Structures, and The Number of Parties. American Journal of Political Science, 41(1):149-174.

Amy, Douglas J. 2002. Real Choices/New Voices: How Proportional Representation Elections Could Revitalize American Democracy. Second edition. New York: Columbia University Press.

Andrews, J. T., and Jackman, R. W. 2004. Strategic Fools: Electoral Rule Choice under Extreme Uncertainty. Electoral Studies, 24: 65-84

Arieff, Alexis. 2012. Senegal: Background and U.S. Relations. Congressional Research Service Report for Congress, April 11.

Baker, Bruce. 1999. The quality of African democracy: Why and how it should be measured, Journal of Contemporary African Studies, 17, 2, 1999

Baldé, Sory. 2011. La convergence des modèles constitutionnels - Etudes de cas en Afrique subsaharienne. Paris: Publibook.

Barber, Kathleen L. 2000. A Right to Representation: Proportional Election Systems for The Twenty-First Century. Columbus: Ohio State University Press.

Barkan, Joel. 1995. Elections in Agrarian Societies. Journal of Democracy, 6:106–116.

282

Barkan, J. 2000. Protracted Transitions among Africa's New Democracies. Democratization 7(3): 227-43.

Barker, J. 1977. Stability and Stagnation: The State in Senegal. Canadian Journal of African Studies, 9/1: 23-42.

Barzachka, Nina S. 2014. When Winning Seats is not Everything: Tactical Seat-Loss During Democratization. Comparative Politics, Vol. 46, Nº 02, pp. 209-229.

Bates, R. 1999. “The Economic Bases of Democratization.” In Richard, Joseph (Ed.), State, Conflict and Democracy in Africa (pp. 83-94). Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner.

Bathily, Abdoulaye. 1992. Mai 1968 à Dakar ou la révolte universitaire et la démocratie. Paris, Éditions Chaka.

Baudais, Virginie. 2015. Les trajectoires de l’état au mali. Paris, L’Harmattan.

Baudais, Virginie, and Chauzal Grégory. 2010. “Briefing the 2010 Coup d’Etat in Niger: a Praetorian Regulation of Politics?” African affairs: the journal of the Royal African Society. Volume 110 no 439. pp. 295-304.

Baudais, Virginie, and Sborgi, Enrico. 2006. The general elections in Niger, November 2004. Electoral Studies, 25 (2006) 147-191.

Baudais, Virginie, and Sborgi, Enrico. 2012. The general elections in Niger, January–March 2011. Electoral Studies, 31 (2012) 448–465.

Beck, Linda J. 2008. Brokering democracy in Africa: the rise of clientelist democracy in Senegal. New York: Palgrave Macmillan

Beck, Linda J. 1999. “Senegal's enlarged presidential majority: deepening democracy or detour?” In Richard Joseph (Ed.), State, conflict, and democracy in Africa (pp. 197-216). Boulder, CO: L. Rienner

Beck, Linda J. 1997. Senegal’s ‘Patrimonial Democrats’: Incremental Reform and the Obstacles to the Consolidation of Democracy. Canadian Journal of African Studies, 31:1, pp. 1-31.

Beetham, David et al. 2008. Assessing the Quality of Democracy A Practical Guide. International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance.

Beetham, David. 1994. Conditions for democratic consolidation. Review of African Political Economy, Vol. 21 No.60, 157-172.

Benoit, Kenneth. 2007. Electoral Laws as Political Consequences: Explaining the Origins and Change of Electoral Institutions. Annual Review of Political Science, 10: 363-90.

Benoit, Kenneth. 2004. Models of Electoral System Change. Electoral Studies, 23: 363-389.

283

Benoit, Kenneth. 2002. The Endogeneity Problem in Electoral Studies: A Critical Re- Examination of Duverger's Mechanical Effect. Electoral Studies, 21(1):35-46.

Benoist, Joseph-Roger de. 1982. L'Afrique occidentale française de la Conférence de Brazzaville (1944) à l'indépendance (1960). Dakar : Nouvelles éditions africaines.

Bénot, Yves. 1989. Les députés africains au Palais Bourbon de 1914 à 1958. Paris, Éditions Chaka.

Behrman, L. 1970. Muslim Brotherhoods and Politics in Senegal. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Bernhard, Michael. 2005. Institutions and the Fate of Democracy. Pittsburgh, University of Pittsburgh Press.

Bernhard, Michael et al. 2004. The Legacy of Western Overseas Colonialism on Democratic Survival. International Studies Quarterly, 48:225-50.

Bianchini, Pascal. 2004. Ecole et politique en Afrique noire : sociologie des crises et des réformes du système d'enseignement au Sénégal et au Burkina Faso (1960-2000). Paris: Karthala.

Birch, S. 2007. Electoral Systems and Electoral Misconduct. Comparative Political Studies, 40.12.

Birch, S. 2003. Electoral Systems and Political Transformation in Post-Communist Europe. New York: Palgrave Macmillan

Birch, Sarah. 2002. Electoral systems and Political Transformation in Post-Communist Europe. New York: Palgrave.

Birch, Sarah et al. (Ed.). 2002. Embodying Democracy: Electoral System Design in Post- Communist Europe. New York: Palgrave.

Blais, A. (Ed.). 2008a. To Keep or to Change First Past the Post: The Politics of Electoral Reform. Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Blais, A. 2008b. “Introduction.” In Blais, A. (Ed.), To Keep or to Change First Past the Post: The Politics of Electoral Reform, (pp. 1-6). Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Blais, A, and Massicotte L. 1997. Electoral formulas: a macroscopic perspective. European Journal of Political Research, 32:107–29.

Blais, A., and Massicotte, L., 1996. “Electoral systems”. In: LeDuc, L., Niemi, R.G., Norris, P. (Eds.), Comparing democracies: elections and voting in global perspective, (pp. 49-81). Sage, Thousand Oaks, Ca.

284

Blais, André, and Massicotte, Louis. 2002. “Electoral Systems.” In LeDuc, Lawrence; Niemi, Richard G.; and Norris, Pippa (Eds.), Comparing Democracies 2: New Challenges in the Study of Elections and Voting. London, Sage.

Blais, A. 1988. The Classification of Electoral Systems. European Journal of Political Research, 16: 99–110.

Bogaards, Matthijs. 2000. Crafting competitive party systems: electoral laws and the opposition in Africa. Democratization, 7 (4):163-190.

Boix, Carles. 1999. Setting the Rules of the Game: The Choice of Electoral Systems in Advanced Democracies. American Political Science Review, Vol. 93, No. 3. 609-624.

Bollen, Kenneth. 1990. Issues in the Comparative Measurement of Political Democracy. American Sociological Review, 45:370–390.

Boone, C., 1992. Merchant Capital and the Roots of State Power in Senegal, 1930–1985. Cambridge University Press, New York.

Bowler, Shaun, and Donovan, Todd. 2013. The Limits of Electoral Reform. Oxford University Press.

Bowler, Shaun, and Farrell, David M. 1993. Legislator Shirking and Voter Monitoring: Impacts of European Parliament Electoral System upon Legislator–Voter Relationships. Journal of Common Market Studies, 31, 1: 45–69.

Bowler, Shaun, and Grofman, Bernard. 2000. Elections in Australia, Ireland, and Malta under the Single Transferable Vote: Reflections on an Embedded Institution. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Bowler, Shaun; Donovan, Todd; and Brockington, David. 2003. Electoral Reform and Minority Representation: Local Experiments with Alternative Elections. Columbus: Ohio State University Press.

Brady, D., and Mo, J. 1992. Electoral systems and institutional choice. Comparative Political Studies, 24 (4), 405–429.

Bratton, Michael. 2010. “Formal Versus Informal Institutions in Africa.” In Diamond, L., and Plattner, M. F. (Eds.) Democratization in Africa: Progress and Retreat (pp. 103-17). Second Edition. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Bratton, Michael. 1997. Deciphering Africa’s Divergent Transitions. Political Science Quarterly, (112) 1: 67-93.

Bratton, Michael, and van de Walle, Nicolas. 1997. Democratic Experiments in Africa: Regime Transitions in Comparative Perspective. New York: Cambridge University Press.

285

Bratton, Michael, and van de Walle, Nicolas. 1994. Neopatrimonial Regimes and Political Transitions in Africa. World Politics, (46) 4: 453-489.

Brenner, Louis. 2000. Controlling Knowledge: Religion, Power and Schooling in a West African Muslim Society. London: C. Hurst & Co., Brenner.

Brossier, Marie. 2004. Les débats sur le droit de la famille au Sénégal : Une mise en question des fondements de l'autorité légitime ? Politique africaine, 2004/4 - N° 96, pp. 78-98.

Bruschi, Francesca. 2010. “Military Collaboration, Conscription and Citizenship Rights in the Four Communes of Senegal and in French West Africa (1912-1946).” In Heike Liebau et al (Eds.), The World in World Wars: Experiences,Perceptions and Perspectives from Africa and Asia (pp. 429-456). Leiden: Brill.

Bryant, Kelly Duke. 2015. Education as Politics, Colonial Schooling and Political Debate in Senegal, 1850s–1914 Africa and the Diaspora. University of Wisconsin Press.

Bunce, V. J., and Wolchik S. L. 2010. Defeating Dictators: Electoral Change and Stability in Competitive Authoritarian Regimes. World Politics, Volume 62, Number 1, pp. 43-86.

Burbank, Jane, and Cooper, Frederick. 2010. Empires in World History. Power and the Politics of Difference, Princeton, Princeton University Press.

Burbank, Jane, et Cooper, Frederick. 2008. Empire, droits et citoyenneté, de 212 à 1946. Annales. Histoire, Sciences Sociales, (63e année), p. 495-531.

Butler, Kimberly, and van de Walle, Nicolas.1999. Political parties and party systems in Africa’s illiberal democracies. Cambridge Review of International Affairs, 12 (1):14–28.

Byfield, Judith, and Brown, Carolyn. 2015. Africa and World War II: Cambridge University Press.

Calvo, E. 2009. The competitive road to proportional representation: Partisan biases and electoral regime change under increasing party competition. World Politics, 61, 254-295.

Carothers, Thomas. 2002. The End of the Transition Paradigm. Journal of Democracy, 13: 5–21.

Chafer, Tony, and Sackur, Ms Amanda (Eds.). 1999. French Colonial Empire and the Popular Front: Hope and Disillusion. Palgrave Macmillan.

Charlick, Robert B. 1991. Niger, Personal Rule and Survival in the Sahel. Westview Press Boulder, Colorado.

Chauzal, Grégory. 2011. Les règles de l’exception : La régulation (du) politique au Mali et au Niger. These pour le doctorat en science politique, Université de Bordeaux.

286

Chazan, Naomi. 1979. African Voters at the Polls: A Re-examination of the Role of Elections in African Politics. Journal of Commonwealth and Comparative Political Studies, 17:136– 158.

Cheibub, José. 2002. Minority Governments, Deadlock Situations, and the Survival of Presidential Democracies. Comparative Political Studies, 35:284–312.

Chhibber, Pradeep, and Kollman, Ken. 1998. Party Aggregation and the Number of Parties in India and the United States. American Political Science Review, 92:329–342.

Cissé, Ali. 2006. Mali: Une démocratie à reformer. L’Harmattan.

Clark, A. 1999. Imperialism, independence, and Islam in Senegal and Mali. Africa Today, 46, no.3-4:149-167.

Collier, Ruth. 1982. Regimes in Tropical Africa: Changing Forms of Supremacy, 1945- 1975. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Colin, Roland. 1990. « Niger : « Dynamiques populistes et cristallisations institutionnelles (1960-1990) ». In Le Niger : Chroniques d'un Etat, (pp. 30-39). Politique Africaine n°38.

Colomer, Joseph M. 2004. Handbook of Electoral System Choice. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Coquery-Vidrovitch, Catherine. 2001. Nationalité et citoyenneté en Afrique occidentale française : Originaires et citoyens dans le Sénégal colonial. The Journal of African History, 42-2, pp. 285-306.

Colvin, Lucie Gallistel. 1981. Historical Dictionary of Senegal: African Historical Dictionaries No. 23. Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press.

Conklin, Alice L. 1998. A Mission to Civilize: The Republican Idea of Empire in France and West Africa, 1895-1930. Stanford: California. Stanford University Press.

Conklin, Alice L. 1997. ‘Democracy’ Rediscovered: Civilization through Association in French West Africa (1914-1930). Cahiers d'Études Africaines, Vol. 37, Cahier 145 (1997), pp. 59-84.

Cooper, Frederick. 2014. Citizenship between Empire and Nation: Remaking France and French Africa, 1945-1960. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Cooper, Frederick. 2005. Colonialism in Question: Theory, Knowledge, History. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Copans, J. 1978. Paysannerie et Politique au Sénégal. Cahiers d'Etudes Africaines, 69-70: 241- 56.

287

Couloubaly, Pascal Baba. 2000. « L’utilisation des TIC dans les élections générales de 1997 au Mali : promesses et dangers pour la démocratie ». In Renaud, Pascal (Ed.) Enjeux des technologies de la communication en Afrique: du téléphone à Internet. Paris, Karthala.

Coulon, Christian. 1988. “Senegal: The Development and Fragility of a Semidemocracy.” In Diamond L., Linz, J., and Lipset, S. (Eds.), Democracy in Developing Countries, Africa (pp. 375-382). Boulder: Lynne Rienner.

Coulon, Christian, 1990. “Senegal: the development and fragility of a semi-democracy.” In Diamond, L. (Ed.), Politics in Developing Countries: Comparing Experiences with Democracy, (pp. 411–448). Lynne Rienner, Boulder, CO.

Coulon, Christian, and Cruise O'Brien, Donal B. 1989. “Senegal.” In Cruise O’Brien, Donal B., Dunn John, and Rathbone Richard (Eds.), Contemporary West African States. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). pp. 145-164.

Cowen, Michael, and Liisa Laakso. 1997. An Overview of Election Studies in Africa. Journal of Modern African Studies, 35:717–744.

Cox, Gary W. 1999. Electoral Rules and Electoral Coordination. Annual Review of Political Science, 2:145–161.

Cox, Gary W. 1997. Making Votes Count: Strategic Coordination in the World's Electoral Systems. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Cox, Gary W. 1996. Is the Single Nontransferable Vote Superproportional? Evidence from Japan and Taiwan. American Journal of Political Science, 40 (3): 740–755.

Cox, Gary W. 1990. Centripetal and Centrifugal Incentives in Electoral Systems. American Journal of Political Science, 34:903–935.

Cox, P., and Kessler, R. 1980. Après Senghor–A Socialist Senegal? African Affairs, 79. 316: 327-342.

Creevy, Lucy; Ngomo, Paul; and Vengroff, Richard. 2005. Party Politics and Different Paths to Democratic Transitions: A Comparison of Benin and Senegal. Party Politics, 11.4: 471- 493.

Crowder, Michael. 1978. Colonial West Africa: Collected Essays. London: Frank Cass.

Crowder, Michael. 1967. Senegal: A Study of French Assimilation Policy. London: Methuen & Co. Ltd.

Crowder, Michael, and Cruise O’Brien, D. B. 1973. “French West Africa, 1945-1960”. In Ajayi, J.F.A. and Crowder, Michael. History of West Africa: Volume Two, (pp. 664–699).New York: Columbia University Press.

Cruise O'Brien, D. B. et al. 2002. La construction de l'État au Sénégal. Paris: Karthala.

288

Cruise O’Brien, D. B., and Diouf, M. 2002. “La réussite politique du contrat social sénégalais.” In, O’Brien D. Cruise, Diop, M. C. and Diouf, M. (Eds.), La construction de l’État au Sénégal. (pp. 9–15). Paris: Karthala.

Cruise O’Brien, D. B. 1983. Les élections sénégalaises du 27 février 1983. Politique africaine, September: 7-11.

Cruise O’Brien, D. B. 1978. “Senegal.” In Dunn, John (Ed.), West African States: Failure and Promise, (pp. 173-188). Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

Cruise O’Brien, D. B. 1967. Political Opposition in Senegal: 1960-67. Government and Opposition, 2, 4: 557-66.

Dahl, Robert A. 1971: Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Decalo, Samuel. 1990. Coups and Army Rule in Africa. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

Decoudras, Pierre‐Marie, and Gazibo, Mamoudou. 1997. Niger, la démocratie ambiguë : chronique d’un coup d’État avancé. L’Afrique politique, pp.155-189.

Duxbury, Alison. 2011. The Participation of States in International Organisations: The Role of Human Rights and Democracy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Diamond, L. 2010. “Introduction.” In Diamond, L., and Plattner, M. F. (Eds.), Democratization in Africa: Progress and Retreat. Second Edition, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Diamond, L. 2009. The Spirit of Democracy: The Struggle to Build Free Societies throughout the World. Times Books, New York: Henry Holt and Company

Diamond, L. 2008. The Democratic Rollback: The Resurgence of the Predatory State. Foreign Affairs, Mar/Apr.

Diamond, L. 1996. “Towards Democratic Consolidation.” In Diamond, L., and Plattner, M. F. (Eds.), The Global Resurgence of Democracy. Johns Hopkins University Press: Baltimore and London.

Diamond, L, and Morlino, L. 2005. Assessing the Quality of Democracy. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Diamond, L., and Plattner, M. F. 2006. Electoral Systems and Democracy. John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore MD.

Diamond, L., and Plattner, M. F. 1999. Democratization in Africa. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press.

289

Diarra, Abdoulaye. 2010. Démocratie et droit constitutionnel dans les pays francophones d’Afrique noire: cas du mali depuis 1960. Paris, Karthala

Diarrah, Cheick Oumar. 1996. Le défi démocratique au Mali. Paris, L'Harmattan.

Diarrah, Cheick Oumar. 1991. Vers la troisième République du Mali. Paris, L’Harmattan.

Di Lorenzo, Amanda, and Sborgi, Enrico. 2001. The 1999 presidential and legislative elections in Niger. Notes on Recent Elections. Electoral Studies, 20 (2001) 463–501

Diop, A. B. 2009. Le Sénégal, une démocratie du Phénix? Karthala-Crepos.

Diop, Birame. Sub-Saharan African Military and Development Activities. PRISM 3, no. 1

Diop, El Hadji Omar. 2013. « L’opposition sous la présidence d’Abdoulaye Wade. Entre regroupements, cooptation et répression ». In Diop, Momar-Coumba (Ed.), Le Sénégal sous Abdoulaye Wade: le Sopi à l'épreuve du pouvoir, (pp. 425-460). Paris, Karthala.

Diop, M. C. 1992. « Le syndicalisme étudiant: pluralisme et revendications ». In Diop, M. C. (Ed.), Sénégal: Trajectoires d’un Etat, (pp. 441-477). Paris: Karthala.

Diop, M. C., et Diouf, M. 1990. Le Sénégal sous Abdou Diouf: État et société. Paris: Karthala.

Diop, M. C., et Diouf, M. 2002. « L’administration, les confréries religieuses et les paysanneries ». In Cruise O’Brien D.; Diop, M. C. and Diouf, M. (Eds.), La construction de l’État au Sénégal. pp. 29–47. Paris: Karthala.

Diop, M. C., et Diouf, M. 2002. « Léopold Sédar Senghor, Abdou Diouf, Abdoulaye Wade, et après ? ». In Cruise O’Brien D.; Diop, M. C. and Diouf, M. (Eds.), La construction de l’État au Sénégal. (pp. 101–141). Paris: Karthala.

Diop, M-C., et Diouf, M. et Diaw, A. 2000. Le baobab a été déraciné, l’alternance au Sénégal. Politique africaine, n° 78.

Diop, Omar. 2006. Partis politiques et processus de transition démocratique en Afrique noire : recherches sur les enjeux juridiques et sociologiques du multipartisme dans quelques pays de l'espace francophone. Paris: Publibook.

Diouf, M. 2002. Culture politique et administrative et réforme économiques. In Cruse O'Brien, D.C., Diop, M.-C. and Diouf, M. (Eds.), La Construction de l’Etat au Sénégal, (pp. 49- 61). Paris: Karthala.

Diouf, M. 2002. « Les jeune Dakarois dans le champs politique ». In, O’Brien D. Cruise, Diop, M. C. and Diouf, M. (Eds.), La construction de l’État au Sénégal, (pp. 157–167). Paris: Karthala.

Diouf, M. 1992. « Le clientelisme, la 'technocratie,' et après? » In Diop, M.C. (Ed.), Sénégal: Trajectoires d'un Etat. Dakar: CODESIRA.

290

Dowse, R.E. 1969. “The Military and Political Development.” In Leys, C. (Ed.), Politics and Change in Developping Countries. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Du Bois, Victor David. 1962. The independence movement in Guinea: a study in African nationalism. Princeton University, Ph.D. Dissertation, Political Science, international law and relations University Mcrofilms, Inc. Ann Arbor, Michigan. http://www.webguinee.net/bibliotheque/economie/vdubois/independence-movement-in-guinea/chapter03- reform-french-colonial-system.html

Dunn, John; Rathbone, Richard; and Cruise O'Brien, D. B. 1989. Contemporary West African states 1989. African studies series.

Duverger, Maurice. 1954. Political Parties: Their Organization and Activity in The Modern State. (Translated by Barbara and Robert North). London: Methuen.

Easterly, William, and Levine, Ross. 1997. Africa Growth Tragedy: Policies and Ethnic Division. Quarterly Journal of Economics, 112:1203–1250.

Elischer, Sebastian. 2013. Political Parties in Africa: Ethnicity and Party Formation. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Elklit, Jorgen, and Nigel, S. Roberts 1996. A Category of its Own: Four PR Two-Tier Compensatory Member Electoral Systems. European Journal of Political Research, 30(2):217-240.

Elster, Jon; Claus Offe; and Ulrich, K. Preuss. 1998. Institutional Design in Post-communist Societies. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Univ. Press.

Elster, Jon et al. 1998. Institutional Design in Post-Communist Societies: Rebuilding the Ship at Sea. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Ellis, S. 2000. “Elections in Africa in Historical Context”. In Abbink, Jon and Hesseling, Gerti (Eds.), Election Observation and Democratization in Africa. New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Elgie, Robert. 2011. Semi-Presidentialism: Sub-Types And Democratic Performance. Oxford University Press.

Englebert, P. 2000. State Legitimacy and Development in Africa. Boulder, CO: Westview.

Fall, Ismaïla Madior. 2011. Senegal: Election Management Bodies in West Africa, A comparative study of the contribution of electoral commissions to the strengthening of democracy. AfriMAP and the Open Society Initiative for West Africa (OSIWA).

Fall, Ismaïla Madior. 2007. Textes constitutionnels du Sénégal de 1959 à 2007. CREDILA, Dakar.

Fall, Ismaïla Madior et al. 2011. Election Management Bodies in West Africa. AfriMAP and the Open Society Initiative for West Africa (OSIWA).

291

Fall, Mar. 1989. L'État et la question syndicale au Sénégal. Paris, L'Harmattan.

Farrell, David M. 2001. Electoral Systems: A Comparative Introduction. Houndmills: Palgrave.

Farrell, David M. 1997. Comparing Electoral Systems. London: Prentice Hall/Harvester Wheatsheaf.

Fatton, Robert. 1995. Africa in the Age of Democatization: the Civic Limitations of Civil Society. African Studies Review, 38(2): 67-99.

Fatton, Robert. 1987. The Making of A Liberal Democracy: Senegal's Passive Revolution 1975- 1985. Boulder: Lynne Rienner.

Fatton, R. Jr. 1986. Clientelism and Patronage in Senegal. African Studies Review, Vol. 29, No. 4, pp. 61-78.

Faye, Ousseynou. 1994. « La crise casamançaise et les relations du Sénégal avec la Gambie et la Guinée-Bissau (1980-1992) ». In Diop, M.-C. (dir.), Le Sénégal et ses voisins, (pp. 189- 212). Dakar, Sociétés Espaces-Temps.

Felsental, Dan. 1990. Topics in Social Choice, Sophisticated Voting, Efficacy, and Proportional Representation. New York : Prager.

First, Ruth. 1970. The Barrel of a Gun–Political Power in Africa and the Coup d’État. London: Penguin Books.

Fouchier, Vincent. 2013. “Senegal.” In Mehler, Andreas et al. (Eds.), Africa Yearbook Volume 9: Politics, Economy and Society South of the Sahara in 2012, (pp. 175-186). Brill.

Fowler, Michael W. 2010. “Deepening democracy: explaining variations in the levels of democracy”. Dissertation, Monterey, California. Naval Postgraduate School.

Gallagher, Michael. 2001. The Japanese House of Councillors Election 1998 in Comparative Perspective. Electoral Studies, 20(4):603-625.

Gallagher, Michael. 1998. The Political Impact of Electoral System Change in Japan and New Zealand. Party Politics, 4(2):203-228.

Gallagher, Michael, and Mitchell, Paul. 2005. “Introduction to Electoral Systems.” In Michael Gallagher and Paul Mitchell (Eds.), The Politics of Electoral Systems, (pp. 3-24). New York: Oxford University Press.

Gaillard, Philippe. 1998. Mai 68 au Sénégal. Jeune Afrique, n° 1950, 26 mai.

Galvan, Dennis. 2001. Political Turnover and Social change in Senegal. Journal of Democracy, Volume 12, Number 3, July 2001, pp. 51-62 (Article).

Gandhi, J. 2008. Political Institutions under Dictatorship. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

292

Gaudusson, Jean Du Bois de et al. 1998. Les Constitutions africaines publiées en langue française. Tome 2. Collection Retour aux Textes, La Documentation française.

Gazibo, Mamoudou. 2005. Foreign Aid and Democratization: Benin and Niger Compared. African Studies Review, Vol. 48, No. 3, pp. 67-87.

Gazibo, Mamoudou. 1999a. Niger l’usure progressive d’un régime militaire. Afrique contemporaine. n°191, pp.29-42.

Gazibo, Mamoudou. 1999b. « Les premières élections locales nigériennes : la décentralisation sur fond de crise », In L’Afrique Politique 1999, entre transitions et conflits, (pp 147- 160). Paris, Karthala.

Geddes, Barbara. 2006. Why parties and elections in authoritarian regimes? Presentation at the annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Washington DC, 2005

Geddes, Barbara; Wright, Joseph; and Erica Frantz. 2014. Autocratic Breakdown and Regime Transitions: A New Data Set. Perspectives on Politics, Vol. 12/No. 2.

Gellar, Sheldon. 2005. Democracy in Senegal: Tocquevillian Analytics in Africa. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Gellar, Sheldon. 1982. Senegal: An African Nation between Islam and the West. Boulder, CO: Westview Press, Inc.

Genova, James E. 2004a. Constructing Identity in Post-War France: Citizenship, Nationality, and the Lamine Guèye Law, 1946-1953. The International History Review, Vol. 26, No. 1 (Mar., 2004), pp. 56-79.

Genova, James E. 2004b. Colonial Ambivalence, Cultural Authenticity, and the Limitations of Mimicry in French-Ruled West Africa, 1914-1956. Peter Lang, New York.

George, A., and Bennett, A. 2005. Case studies and theory development in the social sciences. Cambridge: MT: MIT Press.

Ginio, Ruth. 2006. French Colonialism Unmasked: the Vichy Years in French West Africa. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.

Golden, Miriam A., and Eric Chang. 2001. Competitive Corruption: Factional Conflict and Political Malfeasance in Postwar Italian Christian Democracy. World Politics, 53(4):588– 622.

Golder, M., and Wantchekon, L. 2004. “Africa: electoral systems since 1946”. In Colomer, J. M. (Ed.), The Handbook of Electoral System Choice, (pp. 401–418). Palgrave MacMillan.

Grégoire, Emmanuel. 2010. Touaregs du Niger, le destin d'un mythe. Paris, Karthala.

293

Grégoire, Emmanuel.1994. Démocratie, État et milieux d’affaires au Niger. Politique africaine, n°56, pp. 94-108.

Grégoire, Emmanuel. 1990. Le fait économique haoussa. In Le Niger : Chroniques d'un Etat. Politique Africaine, n°38, pp. 61-67.

Grégoire, Emmanuel. 1986. Les Alhazai de Maradi, Niger : histoire d'un groupe de riches marchands sahé liens. Paris : Editions de l'ORSTOM.

Grégoire, Emmanuel, and de Sardan, Jean-Pierre Olivier. 1996. Niger, le pire a été évité, mais demain? Politique Africaine, n°61, 117-121.

Grofman, Bernard; Sung-Chull Lee; Edwin A. Winckler; and Brian Woodall, (Eds.). 1999. Elections in Japan, Korea, and Taiwan under the Single Non-Transferable Vote. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Grofman, Bernard, and Lijphart, Arend (Eds.). 1986. Electoral Laws and their Political Consequences. New York: Agathon Press.

Grofman, Bernard, and Lijphart, Arend. 2002. The Evolution of Electoral and Party Systems in the Nordic Countries. New York: Agathon.

Gueye, Omar. 2011. Sénégal: Histoire du mouvement syndical: la Marche vers le code du travail. L’Harmattan.

Guiho, Jérôme. 2013. Mahamadou Danda. Un destin nigérien. Paris, L’Harmattan.

Hartmann, Christof. 2016. “Leverage and linkage: how regionalism shapes regime dynamics in Africa”. In Bogaards, Matthijs and Elischer, Sebastian (Eds.), Democratization and Competitive Authoritarianism in Africa, (pp. 79-98). Zeitschrift für Vergleichende Politikwissenschaft.

Haspel, Moshe; Thomas F. Remington; and Steven S. Smith. 1998. Electoral Institutions and Party Cohesion in the Russian Duma. Journal of Politics, 60, 2. (May): 417-439.

Henig, Ruth, and Henig, Simon. 2001. Women and Political Power: Europe Since 1945. London: Routledge.

Hermens, Ferdinand A. 1941. Democracy or Anarchy? A Study of Proportional Representation. South Bend, Indiana: Notre Dame University Press.

Herron, Erik S., and Nishikawa, Misa. 2001. Contamination Effects and the Number of Parties in Mixed-Superposition Electoral Systems. Electoral Studies, 20: 63–8.

Hesseling, Gerti. 2008. “Senegal” In Mehler, Andreas et al. (Eds.), Africa Yearbook Volume 4: Politics, Economy and Society South of the Sahara in 2007, (pp. 167-176). Brill.

294

Hesseling, Gerti. 2007. “Senegal.” In Mehler, Andreas et al. (Eds.), Africa Yearbook Volume 3: Politics, Economy and Society South of the Sahara in 2006, (pp. 161-169). Brill.

Hesseling, Gerti. 1985. Histoire Politique du Sénégal : Institutions, droit et société. Karthala ASC.

Herron, Erik. 2007. State Institutions, Political Context and Parliamentary Election Legislation in Ukraine, 2000-2006. Journal of Communist Studies and Transition Politics, 23(1):57-76.

Higgot, R., et Fuglestad, F. 1975. The 1974 coup in Niger: Towards an explanation. The Journal of Modern African Studies, 13, 3, pp. 383-394.

Horowitz, Donald L. 2006. “A primer for Decision Maker”, In Diamond, L., and Plattner, M. F. (Eds.), Electoral Systems and Democracy. John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore MD.

Horowitz, Donald L. 2003. Electoral Systems: A Primer for Decision Makers. Journal of Democracy, 14: 115-127.

Horowitz, Donald L. 1993. Democracy in Divided Societies. Journal of Democracy, 4 : 18-38.

Horowitz, Donald L. 1991. A Democratic South Africa? Constitutional Engineering in a Divided Society. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Horowitz, Donald L. 1990. Comparing Democratic Systems. Journal of Democracy, (1) 4: 73- 79.

Horowitz Donald L. 1985. Ethnic Groups in Conflict. Berkeley: Univ. Calif. Press

Hounkpe, Mathias, and Fall, Ismaïla Madior. 2011. Electoral Commissions in West Africa: A Comparative Study. Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung: http://library.fes.de/pdf- files/bueros/nigeria/07951.pdf

Huntington, Samuel P. 1993. The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century. Norman and London: University of Oklahoma Press.

Hyden, Goran. 2013. African Politics in Comparative Perspective. Second Edition. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Idrissa, Abdourahmane, and Decalo, Samuel. 2012. Historical Dictionary of Niger. 4th edition. Lanham, Maryland and London: The Scarecrow Press.

Imperato, Pascal James, and Imperato, Gavin H. 2008. Historical Dictionary of Mali (Historical Dictionaries of Africa).

295

Issa, Abdourhamane B. 1999. Alternances militaires au Niger. Politique africaine, n° 74, pp. 85- 94.

Jackson, R., and Rosberg, C. 1982. Why Africa’s Weak States Persist: The Empirical and the Juridical in Statehood.” World Politics, 35:1, 1-24.

Jackson, R., and Rosberg, C. 1982. Personal Rule in Black Africa: Prince, Autocrat, Prophet, Tyrant. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Johnson, G. Wesley. 1971. The Emergence of Black Politics in Senegal: The Struggle for Power in the Four Communes, 1900-1920. Stanford: Calif.

Johnson, G. Wesley. 1966. The Ascendancy of Blaise Diagne and the Beginning of African Politics in Senegal in Africa. Journal of the International African Institute, Vol. 36, No. 3, pp. 235-253.

Jones, Mark P. 1995. Electoral Laws and the Survival of Presidential Democracies. Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press.

Jouve, Edmond.1978. Du Niger de Diori Hamani au gouvernement des militaires (1974-1977). Revue française d’études politiques africaines, (RFEPA) n° 149, mai, pp. 19-44.

Kasfir, Nelson. 1976. The shrinking political arena. Participation and ethnicity in African politics with a case study of Uganda. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Katz, Richard S. 1997. Democracy and Elections. New York: Oxford University Press.

Katz, Richard S. 1996. Electoral Reform and the Transformation of Party Politics in Italy. Party Politics, 2(1):31-53.

Katz, Richard S. 1986. “Intraparty Preference Voting.” In Grofman, Bernard and Lijphart, Arend (Eds.), Electoral Laws and Their Political Consequences, (pp. 85-103). New York: Agathon Press Inc.

Katz, Richard S. 1980. A theory of parties and electoral systems. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Kimba, Idrissa. 2008. « Les régimes militaires entre 1974 et 1999 au Niger.» In Kimba, Idrissa (Ed.), Armée et politique au Niger, (pp. 163-206). Codesria, Senegal.

Kimba, Idrissa. 2001. « La dynamique de la gouvernance: administration, politique et ethnicité au Niger. » In Kimba, Idrissa (Eds.), Le Niger : État et démocratie, (pp. 15-85). Paris: Harmattan.

Kitschelt, H. 1992. “Explaining the Choice of Electoral Laws in New Democracies: The Experience of Southern and Eastern Europe.” Paper presented at the 8th International Conference of Europeanists, Council for European Studies, Chicago, March 27-29.

296

Kitschelt, H. et al. 1999. Post-communist Party Systems: Competition, Representation, and Interparty Cooperation. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Univ. Press

Kuperman, A. J. 2015. Constitutions and Conflict Management in Africa: Preventing Civil War Through Institutional Design. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

Lakeman, Enid, and Lambert, James D. 1955. Voting in Democracies: A Study of Majority and Proportional Electoral Systems. London: Faber and Faber.

Lardeyret, Guy. 1991. The Problem with PR. Journal of Democracy, 2: 30-35.

LeBas, Adrienne. 2013. From Protest to Parties: Party Building and Democratization in Africa. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Lemarchand, René. 1972. Political clientelism and ethnicity in tropical Africa: competing solidarities in nation-building. American Political Science Review, 66(1):68-90.

Le Roy, E. 1992-1993. Mouvement paysan et transition démocratique dans le sud du Mali. L’Année Africaine.

Le Vine, Victor T. 1968. Political Elite Recruitment and Political Structure in French-Speaking Africa. Cahiers d'études africaines, vol. 8, n°31. pp. 369-389.

Leyenaar, Monique, and Hazan, Reuven. 2011. Reconceptualising Electoral Reform. West European Politics, Vol. 34, No. 3, 437–455.

Liauzu, Claude. 2007. Histoire de l'anticolonialisme en France, du XVIe siècle à nos jours. Paris, Armand Colin.

Lijphart, Arend. 1999. Patterns Of Democracy: Government Forms and Performance in Thirty- Six Countries. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Lijphart, Arend. 1997. Unequal participation: democracy’s unresolved dilemma. American Political Science Review. 91:1-14.

Lijphart, Arend. 1994. Electoral Systems and Party Systems: A Study of Twenty-Seven Democracies, 1945-1990. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Lijphart, Arend. 1991. Constitutional Choices for New Democracies. Journal of Democracy, (2) 2: 72-84.

Lijphart, Arend. 1985. The Field of Electoral Systems Research: A Critical survey. Electoral Studies, 4:1, 3–14.

Lijphart, Arend. 1984. Democracies: Patterns of Majoritarian and Consensus Government in Twenty-One Countries. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Lijphart, Arend. 1971. Comparative Politics and Comparative Method. American Political Science Review, 65: 682-693.

297

Lijphart, Arend, and Grofman, Bernard, (Eds.) 1984. Choosing an Electoral System: Issues and Alternatives. New York : Praeger.

Lijphart, Arend; Pintor, Rafael Lopez; and Sone, Yasunori. 1986. “The Limited Vote and the Single Nontransferable Vote.” In Grofman, Bernard, and Lijphart, Arend (Eds.), Electoral Laws and their Political Consequences. New York: Agathon Press.

Lindberg, Staffan (Ed.). 2009. Democratization by Elections: A New Mode of Transition. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Lindberg, Staffan. 2006. Democracy and elections in Africa. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins.

Lindberg, Staffan I. 2005. “Consequences of electoral systems in Africa: a preliminary inquiry.” Electoral Studies 24:41-64.

Linz, Juan J., and Stepan, Alfred. 1996a. Problems of Democratic Transition and Consolidation. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Linz, Juan J., and Stepan, Alfred. 1996b. Toward Consolidated Democracies. Journal of Democracy. 7, no. 2 (April): 14-33.

Lipset, Seymour M., and Rokkan, Stein. 1967. Party systems and voter alignments: cross- national perspectives. New York, Free Press.

Luckham, R. 1994. The military, Militarization and Democratization in Africa: A Survey of Literature and Issues. African Studies Review, n° 37 (2), pp. 13-75.

Lundell, Krister. 2010.The Origins of Electoral Systems in the Post-war Period: A Worldwide Approach. Abingdon: Routledge.

Luong, Pauline Jones. 2002. Institutional Change and Political Continuity in Post-Soviet Central Asia: Power, Perceptions, and Pacts. Cambridge and NY: Cambridge Univ. Press.

Mackie, Thomas T., and Rose, Richard. 1991. The International Almanac of Electoral History. Washington. Congressional Quarterly.

Mahoney, J., and Rueschemeyer, D. 2003. Comparative Historical Analysis in the Social Sciences. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

Maidoka, Aboubacar. 2008. « Esquisse d'une typologie des régimes militaires nigériens », In Kimba, Idrissa (Ed.), Armée et politique au Niger, (pp. 207-231). Codesria, Sénégal.

Maignan, Jean-Claude. 2000. La difficile démocratisation du Niger. Editions Ginette Fabre et Jean-François Lionnet, CHEAM.

Mainwaring, Scott, and Scully, Timothy R. 1995. Party Systems in Latin America. In Scott Mainwaring and Timothy R. Scully (Eds.), Building Democratic Institutions: Party Systems in Latin America, (pp. 1–34). Stanford, CA: StanfordUniversity Press.

298

Malam Issa, Mahaman. 2008. “Le régime militaire de Seyni Kountché (1974-1987).” In Kimba, I. (Ed.), Armée et politique au Niger. Dakar Codesria.

Mamdani, Mahmood. 1996. Citizen and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the Legacy of Late Colonialism. Princeton University Press.

Mann, Gregory. 2006. Native sons: West African veterans and France in the twentieth century. Durham, Duke University Press.

Marut, J.C. 2010. Le conflit de Casamance: ce que disent les armes. Paris, Karthala.

Massicotte, Louis, and André Blais. 1999. Mixed Electoral Systems: A Conceptual and Empirical Survey. Electoral Studies, 18:341–366.

March, J.G., Olsen, J.P. 1989. Rediscovering Institutions. Free Press, New York.

Mathur, Raj. 1997. Parliamentary Representation of Minority Communities: The Mauritian Experience. Africa Today, 44 : 61-77.

Matland, Richard E., and Studlar, Donley T. 1996. The Contagion of Women Candidates in Single-Member District and Proportional Representation Systems: Canada and Norway. Journal of Politics, 58, 3: 707-733.

Mbow, Amadou Mahtar. 2011. Assise Nationale: Sénégal, an 50. Bilan et perspective de refondation. L’Harmattan.

Mbow, P. 2008. Senegal: The return of personalism. Journal of Democracy, 19(1): 156-169.

McElwain, Kenneth. 2008. Manipulating Electoral Rules to Manufacture Single-Party Dominance. American Journal of Political Science, Vol. 52, No. 1, January 2008, pp. 32– 47.

McGowen, P. 2003. African Military Coups d’Etat, 1956-2001. Journal of Modern African Studies, 41:3, 339-359.

Mill, John S. 1861. Considerations on Representative Government. New York: Harper and Brothers.

Moestrup, Sophia. 1999. The role of actors and institutions: The difficulties of democratic survival in Mali and Niger. Democratization, Vol.6, No.2, pp.171-186.

Monroe, Burt L., and Rose, Amanda G. 2002. Electoral Systems and Unimagined Consequences: Partisan Effects of Districted Proportional Representation. American Journal of Political Science, 46, 1 (January): 67–89.

Moser, Robert G., and Scheiner, Ethan. 2012. Electoral Systems and Political Context: How the Effects of Rules Vary Across New and Established Democracies. New York: Cambridge University Press.

299

Moser, Robert G. 1999. Electoral Systems and the Number of Parties in Postcommunist States. World Politics, 51(3):359-84.

Moser, Robert G. 2001. Unexpected Outcomes: Electoral Systems, Political Parties, and Representation in Russia. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press.

Moraski, Bryon. 2007. Electoral System Reform in Democracy's Grey Zone: Lessons from Putin’s Russia. Government and Opposition, Vol. 42, No. 4, pp. 536–563, 2007.

Moraski, Bryon. 2006. Elections by Design: Parties and Patronage in Russia’s Regions. Northern Illinois University Press.

Mozaffar, Shaheen. 2002. Patterns of Electoral Governance in Africa’s Emerging Democracies. International Political Science Review, Vol 23, No. 1, 85–101.

Mozaffar, Shaheen. 1998. “Electoral Systems and Conflict Management in Africa: A Twenty- Eight State Comparison”. In Timothy Sisk & Andrew Reynolds (Eds.), Elections and Conflict Management in Africa, (pp. 81–98). Washington D.C.: United States Institute of Peace Press.

Mozaffar, Shaheen; Scarritt, James R.; and Galaich, Glen. 2003. Electoral institutions, ethnopolitical cleavages, and party systems in Africa’s emerging democracies. American Political Science Review, 97(3):379-390.

Mozaffar, Shaheen, and Schedler, Andreas. 2002. The Comparative Study of Electoral Governance—Introduction. International Political Science Review, Vol 23, No. 1, 5–27

Mozaffar, Shaheen, and Vengroff, Richard. 2002.A ‘whole system’ approach to the choice of electoral rules in democratizing countries: Senegal in comparative perspective. Electoral Studies, 21.4: 601-616.

Mueller, Lisa. 2013. Democratic revolutionaries or pocketbook protesters? The roots of the 2009-2010 uprisings in Niger. African affairs: the journal of the Royal African Society. Volume 112 no 448. pp. 398-420.

NDI (National Democratic Institute For International Affairs). 1995. Electoral Assistance Program. Legislative Elections, January 12, 1995: Debriefing and Analysis.

N’diaye, Amadou. 1997. L’urne et le glaive: réflexions sur les concepts socio-politiques et judiciaires au Mali (de 1960 à la troisième République. Editions Jamana.

Nelson, Harold D. et al. 1974. Area Handbook for Senegal. 2nd Edition. Washington, D.C.: Foreign Area Studies Division of American University.

Newbury, C. W. 1960. The Formation of the Government General of French West Africa. The Journal of African History, Volume 1, Issue 01, pp 111-128.

Niang, Mamadou. 2012. Mémoires synchroniques du fleuve de mon destin. L'Harmattan.

300

Niandou, Souleye Abdoulaye. 2001. « La démocratisation au Niger. Bilan critique ». In Kimba, Idrissa (Ed.), Le Niger. État et démocratie, (pp. 287–320). Paris, L’Harmattan.

Nkoyock, Alain. 2004. Problématique de l'informatisation des processus électoraux en Afrique: cas du Cameroun. Harmattan

Nohlen, Dieter; Fllorian Grotz; and Hartmann, Christof (Eds.). 2001. Elections in Asia and the Pacific (2 vols.). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Nohlen, Dieter; Krennerich, Michael; and Bernhard, Thibaut (Eds.). 1999. Elections in Africa: A Data Handbook. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Nohlen, Dieter. 1996. “Electoral systems and electoral reform in Latin America”. In Lijphart, A., Waisman, C.H. (Eds.), Institutional Design in New Democracies: Eastern Europe and Latin America. Westview Press, Boulder, CO.

Nohlen, Dieter. 1984. “Changes and Choices in Electoral Systems”. In Lijphart A., and Grofman B. (ed.) Choosing an Electoral System: Issues and Alternatives. New York: Praeger.

Nohlen, D., and Krennerich, M., Thibaut, B. 1999. “Elections and Electoral Systems in Africa.” In Nohlen, Dieter et al. (Eds.), Elections in Africa: A Data Handbook, (pp. 1-37). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Norris, Pippa. 2011. Cultural Explanations of Electoral Reform: A Policy Cycle Model. West European Politics, 34:3, 531–50.

Norris, Pippa. 2004. Electoral Engineering: Voting Rules and Political Behavior. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Norris, Pippa. 1995. Introduction: The Politics of Electoral Reform. International Political Science Review, Vol. 16:1,3–8.

Norris, Pippa. 1997. Choosing electoral Systems: Proportional, Majoritarian, and Mixed Systems. International Political Science Review, 18, no. 3.

Nugent, Paul. 2001. Winners, Losers and also Rans: Money, Moral Authority and Voting Patterns in the Ghana 2000 election. African Affairs, 100:405-428.

O’Donnell, Guillermo, and Philippe Schmitter. 1986. Transitions from Authoritarian Rule: Tentative Conclusions about Uncertain Democracies. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

O’Donnell, Guillermo et al. 2004. The Quality of Democracy: Theory and Applications. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press.

O’Donnell, Guillermo. 1996a. Illusions about Consolidation. Journal of Democracy, 7, no. 2: 34- 51.

301

O’Donnell, Guillermo. 1996b. Illusions and Conceptual Flaws. Journal of Democracy, 7: 160– 168.

Olaniyan, R. Omotayo. 1996. Foreign Aid, Self-reliance, and Economic Development in West Africa. Westport, Conn.: Praeger.

Ordeshook, Peter, and Shvetsova, Olga. 1994. Ethnic Heterogeneity, District Magnitude, and the Number of Parties. American Journal of Political Science, 38: 101–123.

Osei, Anja. 2012. Party-Voter Linkage in Africa Ghana and Senegal in Comparative Perspective. Springer VS.

Perret, Thierry. 2014. Mali : une crise au Sahel. Paris : Karthala.

Rae, Douglas W. 1971. The Political Consequences of Electoral Laws. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Rae, Douglas W. 1967. The Political Consequences of Electoral Laws. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

Rahat, Gideon. 2008. The Politics of Regime Structure Reform in Democracies: Israel in Comparative and Theoretical Perspective. Albany, NY: SUNY Press.

Rahat, Gideon, and Hazan, Reuven Y. 2011. The Barriers to Electoral System Reform: A Synthesis of Alternative Approaches. West European Politics, 34:3, 478–94.

Ragin, C. C. 1987. The Comparative Method: Moving Beyond Qualitative and Quantitative Strategies. Berkeley, University of California Press.

Reynal, Jean-Jackques. 1993. Les institutions politiques du Niger. Sépia.

Reynolds, Andrew. 1999. Electoral Systems and Democratization in Southern Africa. Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Reynolds, Andrew, and Sisk, Timothy D. 1997. “Elections, Electoral Systems, and Conflict Management.” In Sisk and Reynolds (Eds.), Elections and Conflict Resolution in Africa. Washington, D.C.: United States Institute of Peace Press.

Reynolds, Andrew. 1995a. Constitutional Engineering in Southern Africa. Journal of Democracy, 6:86–99.

Reynolds, Andrew. 1995b. The Case for Proportionality. Journal of Democracy, 6: 117-124.

Reynolds, Andrew. 1993. Voting for a New South Africa. Cape Town: Maskew Miller Longman.

Reynolds, Andrew; Reilly, Ben; and Ellis, Andrew. 2005. Electoral system design: the new international IDEA handbook. International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance (IDEA). Stockholm, Sweden.

302

Remington, Thomas, and Smith, Steven. 1996. Political Goals, Institutional Context, and the Choice of an Electoral System: The Russian parliamentary electoral law. American Journal of Political Science, 40, 545-572.

Rogowski, R. 1987. Trade and the variety of democratic institutions. International Organization, 41:203–24 Oslo: Universitetsforlaget

Powell, G. Bingham. 2000. Elections as Instruments of Democracy: Majoritarian and Proportional Visions. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Ramseyer, J. Mark, and Frances M. Rosenbluth. 1994. Japan’s Political Marketplace. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.

Raynal, Jean-Jacques. 1993. Les institutions politiques du Niger. Paris, Saint-Maur: Sépia.

Reed, Steven R. 2001. Duverger’s Law is Working in Italy. Comparative Political Studies. 34(3):312-327.

Reed, Steven R. 1994. Democracy and The Personal Vote: A Cautionary Tale from Japan. Electoral Studies, 13(1):17-28.

Reed, Steven R. 1991. Structure and Behavior: Extending Duverger’s Law to the Japanese Case. British Journal of Political Science, 29: 335–356.

Reilly, Ben. 2001. Democracy in Divided Societies: Electoral Engineering for Conflict Management. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Reilly, Ben, and Andrew Reynolds. 1998. Electoral Systems and Conflict in Divided Societies. Washington, DC: National Academy Press.

Renwick, Alan. 2011. Electoral Reform in Europe since 1945. West European Politics, 34:3, 456-477.

Renwick, Alan. 2010. The Politics of Electoral Reform: Changing the Rules of Democracy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Reynolds, Andrew.1999. Electoral Systems and Democratization in Southern Africa. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Reynolds, Andrew, and Ben Reilly. 1997. The International IDEA Handbook of Electoral System Design. Stockholm: International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance.

Riker, William H. 1982. The Two-Party System and Duverger’s Law: An Essay on the History of Political Science. American Political Science Review. 76: 753–66.

Robinson, Pearl T. 1991. Niger: Anatomy of a Neotraditional Corporatist State. Comparative Politics, Vol. 24, No. 1, pp. 1-20.

303

Rogowski R. 1987. Trade and the variety of democratic institutions. International Organization, 41:203–24.

Rokkan, Stein. 1970. Citizens, Elections, Parties. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget

Salifou, André. 2002. Le Niger. L’Harmattan.

Samson, F., 2005. Les marabouts de l'Islam politique le Dahiratoul Moustarchidina Wal Moustarchidaty, un mouvement néo-confrérique sénégalais. Paris, Karthala.

Sartori, Giovanni. 1996. Comparative Constitutional Engineering: An Inquiry into Structures, Incentives and Outcomes. Second edition, New York: New York University Press.

Sartori, Giovanni. 1976. Parties and Party Systems: A Framework of Analysis. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Schedler, Andreas. 2002. The Nested Game of Democratization by Elections. International Political Science Review 23.1, pp. 103-22.

Schedler, Andreas. 2009. “The Contingent Power of Authoritarian Elections.” In Lindberg, Staffan I. (Ed.), Democratization by Elections: A New Mode of Transition, (pp 291–313). Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Schumacher, Edward J. 1975. Politics, Bureaucracy and Rural Development in Senegal. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Seymour, Charles. 1918. How the World Votes: The Story of Democratic Development in Elections. Springfield, Mass.: C. A. Nichols.

Shereikis, Rebecca. 2001. From Law to Custom: The Shifting Legal Status of Muslim Originaires in Kayes and Medine, 1903-13. The Journal of African History, Vol. 42, No. 2 (2001), pp. 261-283.

Shugart, Matthew S. 2008. “Inherent and Contingent Factors in Reform Initiation in Plurality Systems.” In Blais, André (Ed.), To Keep or to Change First Past the Post? The Politics of Electoral Reform, (pp. 7–60). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Shugart, Matthew S. 2005. “Comparative Electoral Systems Research: The Maturation of a Field and New Challenges Ahead.” In Gallagher, Michael and Mitchell, Paul (Eds.), The Politics of Electoral Systems, (pp. 25-56). New York: Oxford University Press.

Shugart, Matthew S. 2001. “‘Extreme’ Electoral Systems and the Appeal of the Mixed-Member Alternative.” In Shugart, Matthew S. and Wattenberg, Martin P. (Eds.), Mixed Member Electoral Systems: The Best of Both Worlds? (pp. 25–54). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

304

Shugart, Matthew S. 1998. The Inverse Relationship Between Party Strength and Executive Strength: A Theory of Politicians' Constitutional Choices. British Journal of Political Science, 28: 1–29.

Shugart, Matthew S. 1985. The Two Effects of District Magnitude: Venezuela as a Crucial Experiment. European Journal of Political Research, 13:353–64.

Shugart, Matthew S., and John M. Carey. 1992. Presidents and Assemblies: Constitutional Design and Electoral Dynamics. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Shugart, Matthew S. and Wattenberg, Martin P., (Eds.). 2001. Mixed-Member Electoral Systems: The Best of Both Worlds? Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Shvetsova, Olga. 2003. Endogenous Selection of Institutions and Their Exogenous Effects. Constitutional Political Economy, 14: 191-212.

Siméant, Johanna. 2014. Contester au Mali: formes de la mobilisation et de la critique à Bamako. Paris, Karthala.

Sénégal. 1991. "Observations du gouvernement de la Republique du Senegal sur le Projet de rapport presenté par la delegation international du National Democratic Institute (NDI) sur le code électoral sénégalais." Dakar: Ministere de l'Interieur.

Sisk, Timothy, and Andrew Reynolds (Eds.). 1998. Elections and Conflict Management in Africa. US Institute of Peace.

Sisk, Timothy. 1995. Electoral System Choice in South Africa: Implications for Intergroup Moderation. Nationalism & Ethnic Politics 1(2): 178-204.

Smith, Zeric Kay. 2001. Mali’s Decade of Democracy. Journal of Democracy, Volume 12, Number 3.

Smith, Zeric Kay. 1998. Building African Democracy: the Role of civil society-based groups in strengtening Malian civic community. Dissertation, Political Science, University of North Carolina Chapel Hill.

Smith, Zeric Kay.1997. ‘From demons to democrats’: Mali's student movement 1991–1996, Review of African Political Economy, No.72:249-263.

Souna, Issaka. 2000. « Les structures de gestion des opérations électorales. Les étapes techniques du scrutin : Le cas du Niger ». In Actes de la quatrième réunion préparatoire au symposium international de Bamako « La vie politique », mai 2000. Unpublished, (pp. 364-374).

Southall, Roger. 1999. “Electoral Systems and Democratization in Africa.” In John Daniel, Roger Southall & Morris Szeftel (Eds.), Voting for Democracy: Watershed Elections in Contemporary Anglophone Africa, (pp. 19–36). Brookfield USA: Ashgate.

305

Stratman, Thomas, and Martin Baur. 2002. Plurality Rule, Proportional Representation, and the German Bundestag: How Incentives to Pork-Barrel Differ Across Electoral Systems. American Journal of Political Science, 46(3):506-514.

Spitz, Pierre-Eric. 1997. La Cour constitutionnelle du Mali et le droit electoral. Cahiers du Conseil constitutionnel n° 2 (Dossier : Mali) - mai 1997. Available at: http://www.conseil-constitutionnel.fr/conseil-constitutionnel/root/bank/pdf/conseil- constitutionnel-52866.pdf

Sy, Seydou Madani. 2009. Les régimes politiques sénégalais de l’indépendance à l’alternance politique, 1960-2008. Paris, Karthala

Sylla, Salifou. 1983-85. Les leçons des élections sénégalaises du 27 février 1983. Annales Africaines, 229-65.

Taagepera, Rein. 2002. “Designing Electoral Rules and Waiting for an Electoral System to Evolve.” In Reynolds, Andrew (Ed.), The Architecture of Democracy: Constitutional Design, Conflict Management, and Democracy, (pp. 248-264). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Taagepera, Rein. 2001. Party Size Baselines Imposed by Institutional Constraints: Theory for Simple Electoral Systems. Journal of Theoretical Politics, 13, 4 (October): 331–54.

Taagepera, Rein, and Bernie Grofman. 1985. Rethinking Duverger’s Law: Predicting the Number of Parties in Plurality and PR Systems—Parties Minus Issues Equals One. European Journal of Political Research, 13: 341–52.

Taagepera. Rein, and Shugart, Matthew S. 1989. Seats and Votes: The Effects and Determinants of Electoral Systems. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Taagepera, Rein, and Shugart, Matthew S. 1993. Predicting the Number of Parties: A Quantitative Model of Duverger’s Mechanical Effect. American Political Science Review, 87, 2 (June): 455–64.

Tall, Mountaga. 2000. « Les élections contestées de 1997 au Mali ». In Actes de la quatrième réunion préparatoire au symposium international de Bamako « La vie politique », mai 2000. Unpublished. (pp. 364-374). Available at: http://democratie.francophonie.org/IMG/pdf/bamako.387.pdf

Tapo, Kassoum. 2000. « Les structures de gestion des opérations électorales : le cas de la CENI au Mali ». In Actes de la quatrième réunion préparatoire au symposium international de Bamako « La vie politique », mai 2000. Unpublished. (pp. 279-288). Available at: http://democratie.francophonie.org/IMG/pdf/bamako.339.pdf

Thiam, Habib. 2001. Par devoir et par amitié : essai. Monaco, Éditions du Rocher.

306

Thioub, I. 1992. « Le mouvement étudiant de Dakar et la vie politique sénégalaise: la marche vers la crise de mai-juin 1968. » In d’Almeida-Topor, H. et al. (Eds.), Les jeunes en Afrique: La politique et la ville, (pp. 267-281). 2nd volume. Paris: L’Harmattan.

Thompson, Virginia, and Adloff, Richard. 1957. French West Africa. New York, Greenwood Press.

Van de Walle, Nicolas. 2003. Presidentialism and clientelism in Africa’s emerging party systems. Journal of Modern African Studies (41) 2: 297-321.

Van de Walle, Nicolas. 2002. Africa’s Range of Regimes. Journal of Democracy, Volume 13, Number 2, pp. 66-80.

Vengroﬀ, Richard. 2005. “Senegal: A Parallel System in Africa." In International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance. pp. 109-111.

Vengroff, Richard. 1994. The Impact of Electoral System on the Transition to Democracy in Africa: The Case of Mali. Electoral Studies, 13: 29-37.

Vengroff, Richard, and Creevey, Lucy. 1997. “Senegal: The Evolution of a Quasi Democracy.” In Clark, John Frank and Gardinier, David E. (Eds.), Political reform in Francophone Africa, (pp. 207–209). Boulder, Colo.

Vengroff, Richard. 1994. The Impact of the Electoral System on the Transition to Democracy in Africa: The Case of Mali. Electoral Studies, 13(l) 29-37

Villalón, Leonardo A. 2009. Democracy in Muslim Contexts: What Africa can Bring to the Discussion? Insight Turkey, 11, no. 3: 41-50.

Villalón, Leonardo A. 1998. “The African State at the End of the Twentieth Century: Parameters of the Critical Juncture.” In Villalón, L. A. and VonDoepp, P. (Eds.), The Fate of Africa's Democratic Experiments, (pp. 3-26). Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press.

Villalón, Leonardo A. 1996. Islamic Society and State Power in Senegal: Disciples and Citizens in Fatick. African Studies Series 80. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Villalón, Leonardo A. 1995. Islamic society and state power in Senegal: Disciples and citizens in Fatick. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Villalón, Leonardo A. 1994a. Sufi Rituals as Rallies: Religious Ceremonies in the Poltics of Senegalese State-Society Relations. Comparative Politics, 26, no. 4: 415-437.

Villalón, Leonardo A. 1994b. Democratizing a (Quasi) Democracy: The Senegalese Elections of 1993. African Affairs, 93, no. 371: 163-193.

Villalón, Leonardo A., and Idrissa, Rahmane. 2005a. “Repetitive Breakdowns and a Decade of Experimentation: Institutional Choices and Unstable Democracy in Niger.” In Villalón,

307

L. A. and VonDoepp, P. (Eds.), The Fate of Africa's Democratic Experiments. Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press.

Villalón, Leonardo A., Idrissa, Rahmane. 2005b. “The Tribulations of a Successful Transition: Institutional Dynamics and Elite Rivalry in Mali.” In Villalón, L. A. and VonDoepp, P. (Eds.), The Fate of Africa's Democratic Experiments. Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press.

Villalón, Leonardo A., and VonDoepp, Peter. 2005. The Fate of Africa's Democratic Experiments. Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press.

VonDoepp, Peter, and Villalón, Leonardo A. 2005. “Elites, Institutions, and the varied Trajectories of Africa’s Third Wave Democracies.” In Villalón, L. A. and VonDoepp, P. (Eds.), The Fate of Africa's Democratic Experiments, (pp. 1-26). Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press.

Wall, Alan et al. 2006. Electoral Management Design: The International Idea Handbook. Stockholm: International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance.

Walraven, Klaas. 2016. “Niger.” In Abbink, Jon et al. (Eds.), Africa Yearbook Volume 12: Politics, Economy and Society South of the Sahara in 2015, (pp. 131-139). Brill.

Walraven, Klaas. 2013. The Yearning for Relief: A History of the Sawaba Movement in Niger. Leiden: Brill.

Widner, J. A. 1994. “Political Reform in Anglophone and Francophone African Countries.” In Jennifer A. Widner, (Ed.), Economic Change and Political Liberalization in Sub-Saharan Africa, (pp. 49-79). Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Wing, Susanna. 2008. Constructing Democracy in Transitioning Societies of Africa: Constitutionalism and Deliberation in Mali. Palgrave Macmillan US.

Wiseman, John. 1992. Early Post-Redemocratization Elections in Africa. Electoral Studies, 11:279–291.

Yansané, Aguibou Y. 1984. Decolonization in West African States with French Colonial Legacy—Comparison and Contrast: Development in Guinea, the Ivory Coast and Senegal (1945—1980). Cambridge: Schenkman Publishing Company, Inc.

Zakari M. 2009. L'islam dans l'espace nigérien de 1960 aux années 2000. Tome 2, L'Harmattan.

Zartman, I. William et al. 2015. “Senegal: The Limits of Hyper-Centralization”. In Kuperman, A. J. (Ed.), Constitutions and Conflict Management in Africa: Preventing Civil War Through Institutional Design. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

Zuccarelli, François. 1988. La vie politique sénégalaise (1940-1988). Paris, Centre des Hautes Etudes sur l’Afrique et l’Asie modernes (CHEAM).

308

Zuccarelli, François. 1987. La vie politique sénégalaise (1789-1940). Paris, Centre des Hautes Etudes sur l’Afrique et l’Asie modernes (CHEAM).

309

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Mamadou Bodian is a Project Coordinator for the Trans-Saharan Elections Programme

(TSEP). He previously earned a Master and a Diplôme d'études approfondies (DEA) in sociology from Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar (Senegal). His current research focuses on elections and democracy in Sub-Saharan Africa with a particular focus on Senegal, Mali and

Niger. He was a Senior Researcher in the Project Office “Islam Research Programme” at the

Embassy of the Netherlands in Senegal, a project sponsored by Leiden University and the Dutch

Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He has published several works on Islam and education in the Sahel.

He received his Ph.D. from the University of Florida in the fall of 2016.

310