Participatory Mechanisms in Bolivia, Ecuador and Venezuela: Deepening or Undermining Democracy?

Abstract

Through the comparative analysis of the participatory mechanisms established in Bolivia, Ecuador and Venezuela, this study explores under which conditions such mechanisms are more likely to deepen or undermine democracy. While the informal participatory mechanisms established in Bolivia have produced, though imperfectly, significant democratic benefits, in Ecuador and Venezuela crucial participatory mechanisms have appeared to favour the concentration of power in the executive, contributing to the strangulation of representative institutions, the erosion of the separation of powers and the development of government-dominated social groups. By shedding light on the undemocratic manipulation of participatory mechanisms, an area still largely unexplored, this study contributes to a better understanding of the risks and opportunities associated with the deepening of democracy.

one of the most interesting political phenomena in the recent history of Latin America has been the emergence in Bolivia, Ecuador and Venezuela of radical leftist governments committed to deepening democracy. To this end, these governments have established a variety of participatory mechanisms, including the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control (CPCCS) in Ecuador, the Communal Councils (CCs) in Venezuela, and more informal mechanisms such as the National Coordination for Change (CONALCAM) in Bolivia. Based on fieldwork and interviews with a variety of actors, including government officials and leaders of social movements, this study explores the conditions under which participatory mechanisms are more likely to deepen or undermine democracy. Has the establishment of participatory mechanisms favoured autonomous popular participation in public decision-making? Have these mechanisms been used to concentrate power in the executive? Is there variation between the cases considered? What explains this variation? Participatory mechanisms deepen democracy if they favour autonomous participation in public decision-making, thus promoting what Roberts (1998: 30), in his definition of the deepening of democracy, describes as ‘moving from hierarchical forms of elitist or bureaucratic control to forms of popular self-determination’.

While the informal participatory mechanisms established in Bolivia have favoured, though imperfectly, autonomous popular participation in public decision-making, in Ecuador and Venezuela participatory mechanisms such as the Communal Councils and the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control have appeared to favour the concentration of power in the executive, contributing to the strangulation of democratic representative institutions, the erosion of the separation of powers and the development of government-dominated social groups. I argue that two factors are crucial during the foundational moment to explain the emergence of democratic rather than manipulative participatory mechanisms able to resist democratic pressures from below: (1) the presence (or absence) of demands for participation originating from civil society; ¹ and (2) the government’s vulnerability to the defection or mobilization of civil society actors formulating demands for participation. ²

Unlike other participatory programmes, these cases provide a valuable opportunity to examine the functioning of participatory institutions within constitutionally sanctioned, centralized and comprehensive attempts to deepen democracy. Because of differences in terms of scale and functions, the participatory mechanisms considered in this study are not perfectly comparable. However, these institutions have represented central mechanisms in these countries’ participatory projects, characterizing each of these experiences. Accordingly, their comparison is appropriate to shed light on the more general democratic, rather than undemocratic, features of the Bolivian, Ecuadorian and Venezuelan participatory projects. In the last decade in Venezuela, the Communal Councils, the latest Bolivarian participatory experiment, have constituted the primary instruments towards a communal, participatory democracy. In Ecuador, the implementation of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control, whose establishment is defined in the council’s official website (Consejo de Participación Ciudadana y Control Social n.d.) as the Constitution’s ‘most important advance in the field of participation’, ³ has represented the priority and the most tangible outcome of the participatory policy of the government. Finally, in Bolivia, in a context characterized by the predominantly informal character of popular participation and an imperfect implementation of the constitution (see Wolff 2013), the National Coordination for Change has represented a crucial venue to realize the constitutionally sanctioned participation of civil society organizations in public decision-making.

Models of Democracy and the Risks of Participatory Mechanisms

The analysis of the participatory processes in these countries contributes to important areas of research, including the Latin American left and its reforms, alternative models of democracy and the undemocratic use of democratic institutions. ⁴ As noted by Levitsky and Roberts (2011), and Madrid (2011: 240–2), while each of these governments has been characterized by plebiscitarian tendencies, thus failing to fully respect liberal democratic institutions, the coexistence of radical democratic tendencies as well as the dispersal of power between Bolivian president Evo Morales and popular movements have distinguished the Bolivian from the Ecuadorian and Venezuelan cases. The analysis of the participatory mechanisms considered in this study sheds further light on these differences and show that, unlike in Venezuela and Ecuador – and despite Morales’s plebiscitarian tendencies – in Bolivia participatory mechanisms such as the National Coordination for Change have increased autonomous popular participation in public decision-making. In particular, the analysis of these participatory processes contributes to the debate on new forms of democracy, including what scholars such as Wolff (2013) and Arditi (2008) describe as Latin America’s possible movement towards less liberal, more participatory (‘post-liberal’) forms of democracy.

Moreover, the analysis of mechanisms such as the Communal Councils and the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control sheds light on the undemocratic potential of participatory mechanisms and on how they may contribute to the consolidation of hybrid regimes, an area still largely unexplored. Recently, authors such as Levitsky and Roberts (2011) and Cameron et al. (2012) have recognized the possible manipulation of participatory mechanisms, including the dangers such manipulation may pose to other democratic institutions. ⁵

Finally, this study contributes to the identification of the conditions influencing participatory mechanisms’ outcomes. Comparative studies of both locally and nationally initiated participatory reforms have examined the conditions influencing participatory mechanisms’ ambiguous outcomes, focusing on the importance of civil society, leadership and political parties (see Baiocchi et al. 2011; Goldfrank 2007, 2011; McNulty 2011; Montecinos 2012; van Cott 2008; Wampler 2007; Zaremberg 2012). Though contributing to a better understanding of participatory mechanisms’ outcomes, this literature has tended to ignore the fact that participatory mechanisms can be deliberately designed to effectively resist the democratizing effects of autonomous, active or contentious civil societies. ⁶ For example, Wampler’s (2007: 272) emphasis on the role of contentious politics against ‘extensive co-optation of CSOS [civil society organizations] and citizens by governments’ has advanced our understanding of participatory mechanisms’ outcomes. However, as demonstrated by the Communal Councils in Venezuela (see below), when properly designed and implemented, manipulated participatory mechanisms can prove impermeable to contentious politics by limiting the contentiousness of their participants both within and outside the participatory arena and preventing the participation of likely contentious participants.

Similar to my study, Schneider and Welp (2011: 24) identify, among other factors, demands and power from below as elements that can positively influence the nature of participatory mechanisms. These authors, however, seem to equate the institutionalization of participatory mechanisms with citizens’ ability to participate in significant decision-making. As we will see, this finding is disconfirmed by the Bolivian, Ecuadorian and Venezuelan cases, where highly institutionalized mechanisms have served the strategic goals of the government (e.g. Venezuela) while less institutionalized mechanisms (e.g. Bolivia) have instead promoted autonomous popular participation in public decision-making.

The Argument

I argue that: (1) the presence (or absence) of demands for participation originating from civil society; ⁷ and (2) the government’s vulnerability to the defection or mobilization of civil society actors formulating demands for participation ⁸ are crucial factors, during the foundational moment, to explain the democratic (or undemocratic) character of participatory mechanisms. The second variable refers to the ability of civil society actors to harm the government and pose credible threats to its survival through defection or mobilization. Defections and mobilizations against the government may jeopardize the survival of the executive by undermining its legitimacy, pressuring its members to leave office, or weakening its re-election prospects.

Social actors demanding participation will be eager to use participatory mechanisms meaningfully to advance their own claims. Hence, they are likely to monitor and try to influence the design and establishment of participatory mechanisms. If the government is vulnerable to the defection or mobilization of these actors, its room to manipulate and shape participatory mechanisms on the basis of strategic, potentially undemocratic, interests is limited. In Venezuela and Ecuador, where the establishment of mechanisms for participation occurred in the absence of similar societal constraints, ruling elites had more room to shape and manipulate participatory institutions on the basis of illiberal interests and to concentrate power in the executive. ⁹ While in Venezuela on the eve of Hugo Chávez’s election existing demands for participation were unable to shape autonomously the national political debate, in Ecuador active and contentious civil society actors, including the so-called forajidos (outlaws), were able to take centre-stage in Ecuadorian politics and construct the political debate around their demands for participation before Rafael Correa’s rise to power. However, Correa’s low vulnerability to these groups provided the executive with the opportunity to dismiss these demands during the creation of manipulative participatory mechanisms. The Ecuadorian case shows that, however important, the presence of an intense participatory discourse is not sufficient, in itself, to produce democratic participatory mechanisms. In Bolivia, the existence of demands for participation originating from social actors able to determine the fate of the Morales government and hence constrain the action of the government has instead prevented the emergence of manipulative participatory institutions, leading to mechanisms that, though imperfectly, have favoured autonomous popular participation in public decision-making.

As witnessed by a controversial police rebellion in 2010 in Ecuador and, in particular, by the 2002 attempted coup in Venezuela and the autonomist claims of the departments controlled by the opposition in Bolivia in 2008, in each of these countries part of the opposition has demonstrated open hostility to the government’s process of change, providing incentives for the creation of government-dominated participatory mechanisms. However, the societal conditions examined above have distinguished the Bolivian from the Ecuadorian and Venezuelan participatory outcomes.

Venezuela

The Communal Councils

The Bolivarian participatory project is based today on the Communal Councils, participatory institutions designed to identify and satisfy the needs of the local community. Promoted under Chávez, the Communal Councils remain central mechanisms in the participatory project of the Maduro government as evidenced, for example, by the reform of the Organic Law for the Communitarian Management of Functions, Services and Other Attributions (hereafter the Transfer Law, see below). Functioning through a variety of institutions, including a Citizen Assembly and an Executive Unit, the Communal Councils, composed of between 150 and 400 families in the cities and a minimum of 10 and 20, respectively, in indigenous communities and rural areas (Organic Law of Communal Councils, Art. 4), typically identify the most urgent needs of the community through the elaboration of projects. If approved, the projects (for example, renovation of houses or road making) are generally financed by central government funds. As of September 2013, 40,035 Communal Councils had been created in Venezuela (Radio Nacional de Venezuela 2013). Following the 2010 Law of the Communes, the Communal Councils can group together into Communes. Composed of all the members of the community aged over 15, the Citizen Assembly represents the most important decision-making body of the Communal Councils, with decisions made on a simple majority basis. It approves the projects that are then typically funded by the central government, approves ‘normas de convivencia’ – community rules subject to the existing legal system – and appoints the members of the executive unit, the body in charge of implementing decisions of the Citizen Assembly.

Rather than neutral participatory mechanisms, the Communal Councils are, as stated in the 2009 Law of the Communal Councils, the basic units of the in fieri socialist state and society. The Communal Councils have been accused of being used to mobilize supporters of the government in conjunction with electoral tests (Ellner 2009: 4; Hidalgo 2009: 88) and of being prone to clientelistic practices because of their dependence on the government and its financial resources (Canache 2007: 19). Similarly, Lovera (2008), García-Guadilla (2008) and López Maya and Lander (2011: 77) have raised concerns about the question of the Communal Councils’ autonomy from the government. ¹⁰

Besides ensuring a considerable source of social support through the distribution of material resources, the government has also pursued the indoctrination of the members of the Communal Councils to socialist values, for example through the constant presence of the Venezuelan United Socialist Party (PSUV) in the Communal Councils’ events and meetings. The distribution of material resources and the diffusion of socialist values have represented powerful instruments to limit the contentiousness ¹¹ of the participants in the Communal Councils, contributing to the development of government-dominated civil society groups. The Communal Councils have also proved impermeable to what could be defined as likely contentious participants, such as groups close to the opposition or critical of the executive. The strategy of the government has consisted of preventing likely contentious participants from legally creating new Communal Councils through the registration requirement. To acquire legal personhood – that is, legal recognition and the right to receive funds from the central government – each Communal Council is required to be registered by the Ministry for the Communes and Social Movements. While Álvarez and García-Guadilla (2011: 199–201) note that interviews conducted in different Communal Councils have provided evidence of the political use of the certification requirement as well as of clientelistic practices, the human rights organization Provea (2010: 376, cited also in Álvarez and García-Guadilla 2011) describes the number of ‘denouncements and cases’ of political discriminations during the certification process as ‘considerable’. ¹²

In an interview I conducted in Caracas, two members of an unregistered Communal Council observed that the strategies to deny the registration to non-Chavista Communal Councils have been various, ranging from the identification of formal procedural errors to the strategy of simply not attending to the non-Chavista Communal Councils’ request of being legally recognized. ¹³ The opposition has even denounced that to achieve registration, groups of citizens were required to present various proofs of socialist commitment, including their membership of the Venezuelan United Socialist Party (El Universal 2011). ¹⁴

The denial of the registration to Communal Councils perceived as antagonistic has often led to discriminatory results. The National Front of Excluded Communal Councils, an organization created to denounce the discrimination of non-Chavista Communal Councils, maintains, for instance, that 2,400 Communal Councils were not officially recognized, leading to scenarios such as that in Baruta, Caracas, a municipality controlled by the opposition, where only around 25 per cent of the existing Communal Councils were able to register (Meneses 2011). According to Hawkins (2010), the disproportionate presence of Chavistas in the government’s participatory initiatives has to do with non-Chavistas’ reluctance to participate in initiatives characterized by a Chavista discourse. However, in the Communal Councils exclusionary practices have increasingly accompanied this self-screening, especially since non-Chavistas have increasingly attempted to penetrate the Communal Councils. It should also be noted that the existence of a strongly partisan discourse in supposedly neutral and publicly funded state institutions is in itself dubiously democratic. ¹⁵

Besides being aimed at the development of government-dominated social groups, the creation of the Communal Councils along with the recently created Communes has also responded to the objective of suffocating democratic representative institutions such as states and municipalities (see also Smilde 2009: 5). The government has pursued a double strategy. First, it has undermined the resources devoted to the state and municipal levels (see Armas 2010; Blyde 2010). Second, it has progressively attempted to undermine the responsibilities of the municipalities and the states to the benefit of government-dominated participatory mechanisms. The establishment of Communes resulting from the unification of several Communal Councils is functional to ‘the construction of the socialist society’ (Organic Law of the Communes, Art. 7), ¹⁶ representing a direct challenge to the very existence of municipalities. Explicitly defined in the Organic Law of the Communes as a ‘socialist space’ ¹⁷ (Art. 5), like the Communal Councils, the Communes are organized in different bodies, including a legislative and an executive unit. While the recently amended Transfer Law prescribes the transfer of functions and assets from states and municipalities to the Communal Councils and the Communes, Article 5 of the Organic Law of the Municipal Public Power excludes the Communes from municipal regulations’ scope of application. The result is the creation of independent, government-dominated, socialist enclaves within the municipalities.

It should be noted that underlining the exclusionary and manipulative strategy of the government is not to say that the majority of the Communal Councils are entirely composed of pro-government groups. Existing surveys seem to undermine this conclusion (see Hawkins et al. 2008: 119; Machado 2009: 60). However, what emerges from one of these studies is also that 34 per cent of the Communal Councils are entirely composed of pro-government groups versus only 2 per cent entirely composed of opposition groups (Machado 2009: 60). While these figures are in themselves alarming, it is important to note that the strategy of replacing independent representative institutions with government-controlled Communal Councils does not require the creation of exclusively Chavista Communal Councils. As noted above, the decisions of the Communal Councils’ Citizen Assemblies are made on a simple majority basis. Accordingly, the majoritarian presence of pro-government groups – which, in turn, can be ensured through a strategic use of the registration requirement – is sufficient to attain the control of a Communal Council.

Civil Society and Demands for Participation in Venezuela

The nature of the Venezuelan participatory experience can be better understood through the analysis of civil society before Chávez’s rise to power. According to Salamanca (2004), a ‘new’ civil society emerged in the 1970s and 1980s from the spontaneous mobilizations of grassroot organizations such as the neighbourhood movement and human rights associations. Marking a rupture with the past, this ‘new’ civil society characterized itself for its participatory impetus, including, as noted by Salamanca (2004: 97), ‘the participation of the population in the solution of its own problems’. Levine and Crisp (1999: 152) observe, in particular, that in the 1980s the neighbourhood movement put pressure on the government to open important channels of participation, such as ‘the election of governors, the election of mayors, the creation of parish councils, and the possibility of recalling officials’.

The participatory impetus of the neighbourhood movement, however, did not prove immune to the cooptation attempts of political parties given that, as observed by Levine and Crisp (1999: 153): ‘Party efforts met with considerable success, and as a result, the banner of political reform to some extent passed out of the hands of community organizations. The reformulation of goals happened in other popular movements as well. For example, the cooperative movement assumed a lower profile, leaving the fight for political reform to concentrate instead on its own organizational growth.’

The participatory involution of the ‘new’ civil society was not only a result of the successful cooptation operated by political parties. First, the demands for participation elaborated by the ‘new’ civil society in the 1980s were eventually met by the national government through the creation of new channels of participation, including the direct election of mayors and governors. Because the participatory demands of the ‘new’ civil society had been met, since the early 1990s the participatory impetus of the ‘new’ civil society lost its raison d’être. As witnessed by demands aiming at the direct election of local representatives, the participatory demands of the neighbourhood movement were intended in the framework of representative democracy. ¹⁸ More generally, as observed by Lander (2007: 24), far from formulating and proposing radical demands, the neighbourhood movement had a ‘conservative idea of democracy’. As a consequence, once the direct election of mayors and governors was achieved, the neighbourhood movement did not proceed to the elaboration of new, more radical participatory demands.

Second, the declining participatory impetus of the ‘new’ civil society may have also resulted from the increasing collaboration of the new civil society with the state, a collaboration that, according to Salamanca (2004: 96–100), led various civil society organizations to become ‘modest providers of social services’ on behalf of the state. ¹⁹ While Salamanca (2004) underlines the ‘new’ civil society organizations’ intention to bypass the intermediation of political parties, Paley (2001) highlights the inherent dangers associated with similar forms of cooperation. In her analysis of the post-Pinochet Chile, where the neoliberal cuts to social spending had made civil society organizations new providers of social services, Paley (2001) observes how a similar state–society relationship may lead to a civil society that, demobilized and closely cooperating with the state, proves unable to direct demands to the state and keep it accountable.

The participatory involution of the ‘new’ civil society was matched by the limitations affecting more radical demands for participation. While recognizing the growing interest for participation as a common trait of civil society organizations in the 1970s, García-Guadilla (2007: 143) questions the notion of a homogeneous civil society, underlining the existence of ‘conflicting projects and interpretations of democracy’, including more radical notions of democracy. Recently, Ciccariello-Maher (2013) has stressed the importance of popular movements pre-dating Chávez’s rise to power and their progressive unification within the revolutionary process. However, these groups represented marginal groups in the context of the Punto Fijo democracy. In the words of a high-ranking official of what is now the Ministry for the Communes and Social Movements, ‘popular organizations during representative democracy were nothing more than resistance organizations’. ²⁰

Though highlighting the existence of progressive actors and community organizations before the establishment of the Bolivarian republic, Wilpert (2007: 186–7) underlines, for example, the fragmented nature of these groups and Chávez’s crucial role in providing a point of reference. As observed by Fernandes (2010: 237), lower classes did organize in Venezuela’s poor barrios but, despite some recent coalition-building efforts, their fragmentation has affected their ability to sustain ‘a common agenda to represent their own interests before the state’. Similarly, López Maya and Lander (2011: 75) note that the popular movement ‘lacked an organic base, tradition, and networks which might have given it the strength and autonomy to take action vis-à-vis the state’. In short, fragmentation muffled more radical demands for participation and contributed to making Chávez largely invulnerable to pre-existing social movements.

This scenario, combined with the participatory involution of what Salamanca (2004) defines as the ‘new’ civil society, provided Chávez with the control of the participatory discourse and the unconstrained opportunity to create manipulative participatory mechanisms.

Ecuador

The Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control

The Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control has represented the most tangible outcome of Correa’s participatory policy. It is composed of various bodies, secretariats and commissions. The members of the plenum, its governing body, are selected through a public competition (concurso), consisting of a written test and the evaluation of the candidates’ professional resumés. The Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control was created to meet three primary objectives: to promote citizen participation, to increase state accountability through the establishment of a social control, and to involve citizens in the appointment of important state institutions.

Besides proving, in fact, to be the primary activity of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control, the appointment of some of these institutions, namely the fiscal general (prosecutor general), the National Electoral Council, the people’s defender and the Tribunal Contencioso Electoral, has also proved to be its most controversial function. Once a prerogative of the legislative body, these authorities are now appointed through public competitions (organized by the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control) aimed at selecting the most deserving candidates and involving ordinary citizens in the selection process. ²¹ Similar to the selection of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control’s plenum, candidates are selected on the basis of a written test and their professional resumé, under the supervision of a Citizen Committee. The Citizen Committee organizes the selection process and submits a final, binding report, including the outcome of the competition, to the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control’s plenum. Despite their name, the Citizen Commissions are only partially composed of ordinary citizens. Five members, elected through public competitions, represent the citizenry and social organizations while the other five members are appointed by various state institutions, including the executive. The five representatives of the citizenry and social organizations are selected on a random basis from the 30 candidates whose professional resumés reach the highest scores. The plenum selects these 30 top candidates after receiving a report from a technical committee. ²² Citizen oversight committees (veedurías), institutions entirely composed of volunteers without significant decision-making power, oversee the correct and fair functioning of the public competition. Interestingly, unlike the Venezuelan Communal Councils, the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control does not involve the participation of a large number of citizens. According to De la Torre (2013b: 45), Correa’s decision not to create mobilization mechanisms such as the Communal Councils has been related to the absence of a strong opposition in Ecuador. ²³

Although the participation of ordinary citizens in the selection process should guarantee more transparent procedures and respond to the imperative of increasing popular participation in public decision-making, the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control’s selection procedures seem to have served the strategic objectives of the government. First of all, the significant presence of officials with ties to the executive has raised concerns about the autonomy and independence of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control. According to Montalvo (2010), the majority of the plenum – composed of seven members selected through supposedly impartial public competitions – emerging from the 2010 selection process had ties to the government or shared similar political tendencies. Three members, in particular, Montalvo (2010) reports, held important roles in institutions chaired or created by Patiño, Correa’s foreign minister.

Corroborating the concerns surrounding the appointment of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control’s plenum, the participatory selection procedures organized under the supervision of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control have often led to the appointment of candidates apparently close to the government. One of the most controversial cases is that of Chiriboga Zambrano, an ex-minister of the Correa government and then Ecuadorian ambassador to Spain recently appointed as the country’s fiscal general through the participatory selection procedures organized by the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control. The fiscal general is a very important office, given that its responsibilities include the investigation of crimes committed by the president and other important state officials (see Fiscalia General del Estado n.d.). From the start of the selection procedure, El Comercio (2011a), a popular newspaper generally critical of the government, underlined Chiriboga Zambrano’s ties to the government. During the selection process, some candidates, the coordinator of the oversight committee and even a member of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control’s plenum, Luis Pachala, openly criticized the procedure, questioning, in particular, the Citizen Committee’s ranking and grading procedures (El Comercio 2011b, 2011c; Ecuadorinmediato.com 2011). As well as criticizing the lack of transparency within the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control and raising concerns over the irrelevance of the oversight committees (veedurias), Pachala observed that some members of the Citizen Committee worked for Correa’s party Alianza Pais (El Comercio 2011d). Of particular concern were the revisions to a ranking elaborated by a technical committee (an institution advising the Citizen Committee), raising Chiriboga Zambrano’s score to first place (El Comercio 2011b; Hoy 2011). Interestingly, before the official conclusion of the selection procedures, the then-minister of internal affairs intervened to advocate on behalf of Chiroboga Zambrano’s candidacy, observing, as quoted by Villarruel (2011), that ‘if there is justice in our society, it would be correct that [Chiriboga Zambrano] becomes the fiscal’, ²⁴ thereby exerting significant pressure on the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control, an institution formally independent from the government. Similarly, Correa bluntly dismissed the criticisms about the selection process, pointing to Chiriboga Zambrano as the unquestionable winner of the public competition (Hoy 2011).

Besides the appointment of Chiriboga Zambrano, concerns surrounding the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control’s selection procedures have focused on the appointment of other important offices selected through the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control. According to the newspaper El Universo (2011), the National Electoral Council emerging from the 2011 concurso was almost entirely composed of former officials of ministries and governmental agencies. Similarly, Rivadeneira, the new defensor del pueblo, was adviser and under-secretary to Jalkh – Correa’s former private secretary (secretario particular) – during Jalkh’s stints as minister of justice and interior minister under Correa. Finally, concerns have been raised about the ties existing between the government and the members of the Tribunal Contencioso Electoral (El Comercio 2012).

In light of these outcomes, the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control – so far immune to the participation of disaffected citizens in its ‘participatory’ selection procedures thanks to an effective institutional design – has appeared as an instrument to extend the power of the government over other functions of the state, and hence to erode the Ecuadorian system of checks and balances.

Correa, the Forajidos and the Indigenous Movement

The election of Correa and the creation of participatory institutions took place amid considerable demands for participation formulated first by the indigenous movement and, on the eve of Correa’s election, by those same social actors that were involved in the mobilization responsible for the fall of Gutiérrez in 2005, the so-called forajidos (outlaws).

Under the direction of the Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of Ecuador (CONAIE), throughout the 1990s and the first half of the 2000s, the indigenous movement played a central role in the Ecuadorian sociopolitical arena. After various mobilizations in the 1990s, in 2000 the indigenous movement participated, along with future president Colonel Lucio Gutiérrez, in an action that forced President Jamil Mahuad out of office. After an unsuccessful attempt to establish a Junta of National Salvation, together with segments of the army, in 2003 the indigenous movement won power democratically by supporting the presidential bid of Gutiérrez. Throughout this phase, as demonstrated by its demands during the 1990 mobilization – characterized, as observed by Becker (2012: 30), by the determination to establish ‘Indigenous control over their own affairs’ – and the attempt to win power, both undemocratically and through elections, the indigenous movement formulated significant demands for participation. Interestingly, as outlined below, rather than providing a definitive response to these demands, the indigenous movement’s rise to power in 2003 may be viewed as the beginning of a severe crisis that has since then severely affected the indigenous movement.

Undermined by Gutiérrez’s commitment to the establishment of fiscal austerity policies (Lucero 2008: 128–9), the alliance between Gutiérrez and the indigenous movement proved ephemeral, resulting in a rupture a few months after Gutiérrez’s election. Like Bucaram and Mahuad, Gutiérrez could not conclude his presidential tenure because of a popular mobilization, known as the forajidos revolt and the Congress’s decision to vote for his removal. A loosely organized popular mobilization, the rebellion of the forajidos can be viewed as the intervention of ordinary citizens in national politics to divest discredited institutional actors of their leading role. In 2005, following Gutiérrez’s manipulation of the Supreme Court, thousands of citizens staged protests against his government and, more generally, a largely discredited political class. The forajidos revolt was characterized by its spontaneity and the absence of traditional political actors (Acosta 2005; Ramírez Gallegos 2010; Unda 2005). It is notable that, in line with a more general critique of existing institutions, the revolt also developed demands for significant political reforms (Acosta 2005; Ramírez Gallegos 2010). In particular, while underlining the existence of undemocratic tendencies, Burbano de Lara (2010: 214) highlights the determination of the forajidos, as well as of the indigenous mobilization against Mahuad in 2000, to go beyond representative democracy, towards a more direct form of democracy. Similarly, according to Pazmiño (2005: 38), citizens participating in the forajidos revolt demanded a more active role in the country’s politics and the establishment of a ‘truly representative and participatory democracy’. ²⁵ In short, the forajidos articulated clear demands for citizen participation as an alternative to a political system that was seen as unresponsive and undemocratic.

In this context, Correa became president in 2006 after serving as minister of finance under the successor of Gutiérrez, Palacio, and after espousing the forajidos cause. ²⁶ Despite the existence of actors eager to participate in public decision-making and hence take advantage of potential participatory institutions, Correa was able to establish and implement an undemocratic participatory mechanism in the form of the Council of Citizen Participation and Social Control thanks to his low vulnerability to those pushing for participation. With its spontaneous character and initial autonomy from traditional political actors (Acosta 2005; Ramírez Gallegos 2010; Unda 2005), the forajidos revolt may be viewed as a vivid exercise of democracy. Citizens advanced proposals and exchanged ideas on the protest through a local radio (Radio Luna) in a typical movement ‘from below’ (Unda 2005: 133–4). ²⁷ However, associated with the forajidos’ rejection of any involvement of traditional institutional actors, the revolt displayed significant weaknesses, including, as observed by Ramírez Gallegos (2010), the lack of a coherent organizational structure or a political programme. Accordingly, Correa faced a relatively uncoordinated movement during his presidential campaign and after his election. As noted by Burbano de Lara (2010: 208–9), the forajidos’ organizational shortcomings were key elements in Correa’s ability to supplant the movement, contributing, along with the decline of the indigenous movement, to the emergence of a civil society unable to check the power of the president. Members of the forajidos were given important roles within the Country Alliance (AP) and the government, but their inability to mobilize powerful organizations and hence jeopardize the executive relegated them to a subordinate role vis-à-vis Correa. Conaghan (2008: 57) noted that Correa has exerted great control on a party that was largely disconnected from organized civil society.

The indigenous movement did not present the organizational weaknesses affecting the forajidos. However, as demonstrated by the mere 2 per cent of votes won by the Pachakutik (the indigenous movement’s electoral vehicle) candidate in the first round of the 2006 presidential election, the indigenous movement experienced one of its worst crises during Correa’s rise to power. Related to the unsuccessful alliance with Gutiérrez, important factors in Pachakutik’s decline included an increasingly disaffected indigenous base and the rejection of both electoral alliances and its previously inclusive approach (Madrid 2012: Ch. 3; Mijeski and Beck 2008). For example, Becker (2012: 89) notes, ‘Excluding mestizos in favor of Indigenous candidates meant that Pachakutik lost electoral strength in urban areas’. ²⁸

The electoral weakness of the indigenous movement made Correa largely invulnerable to indigenous organizations. In 2006, Correa won the opportunity to challenge Alvaro Noboa in the run-off by winning 22.84 per cent of the vote with a 5.42 per cent margin over Gilmar Gutiérrez, who finished third. ²⁹ In the run-off, Correa won the presidency with a margin of 13.34 percentage points over Noboa. ³⁰ This means that Pachakutik, whose presidential candidate Macas won 2.19 per cent, was not a decisive force in the 2006 elections. ³¹ In the following presidential elections in 2009, Correa was re-elected in the first round with 51.99 per cent and a margin of 23.75 percentage points over his closest opponent Lucio Gutiérrez, ³² while the Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of Ecuador did not support any candidate. In 2013, Correa consolidated his power, triumphing again in the first round with 57.17 per cent. ³³

Moreover, affected by Gutiérrez’s attempts to divide the indigenous movement, the Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of Ecuador failed to replicate the successful uprising of the 1990s, as highlighted by the low levels of participation in mobilizations organized after the end of the alliance with Gutiérrez (Lucero 2008: 129; Mijeski and Beck 2008: 45; Zamosc 2007: 15). In a further sign of its decline, the indigenous movement was not at the centre of the forajidos revolt (Becker 2012: 94; Burbano de Lara 2010: 205; Lucero 2008: 129–30; Mijeski and Beck 2008: 43; Ramírez Gallegos 2010: 27; Zamosc 2007: 15).

For different reasons, the forajidos and the indigenous movement had minimal opportunities to jeopardize the government. Taking advantage of his low vulnerability to civil society actors, Correa has been able to dismiss existing demands for participation and to construct manipulative participatory mechanisms.

Bolivia

The National Coordination for Change

Since Morales’s rise to power, the constitutionally sanctioned participation of civil society organizations in public decision-making has been based on more informal participatory mechanisms such as the National Coordination for Change and the informal relationship existing between the government and the Unity Pact, an alliance composed of the most important indigenous-peasant organizations of the country. ³⁴ Initially created to defend the revolutionary process, over time the National Coordination for Change has become an important mechanism to involve the social organizations supporting the government in the administration of the country. The National Coordination for Change includes representatives of the government, the Movement Towards Socialism (MAS), and the social organizations supporting the government. Besides indigenous-peasant organizations such as the Sole Syndical Confederation of Peasant Workers of Bolivia (CSUTCB), the Bartolinas and the Syndical Confederation of Intercultural Communities of Bolivia (CSCIB), the National Coordination for Change includes a number of non-indigenous organizations representing various sectors of Bolivian society. Representatives of the social organizations, the Movement Towards Socialism and the government meet periodically in the National Coordination for Change to examine the most important political questions of the moment and to coordinate their short-term political agenda. Besides its periodical meetings, the National Coordination for Change can also meet to debate specific important questions or to define long-term political objectives. Ad hoc meetings may be functional, for example, to the redefinition of the government’s political programme.

The National Coordination for Change represents a crucial mechanism for finding consensus on specific laws. Before being examined by the legislature, the elaboration and discussion of important laws such as the Autonomy and Decentralisation Law ³⁵ occurs within the National Coordination for Change. Once a proposed law receives the support of the National Coordination for Change and its social organizations, it is sent to the National Assembly, where the Movement Towards Socialism representatives pursue its approval. The considerable presence of indigenous-peasant organizations within the Movement Towards Socialism and the National Assembly guarantees that the proposals of the National Coordination for Change will be taken into account by the legislative body. The National Coordination for Change can thus be viewed as an unofficial parallel legislative assembly, bridging the gap between state and civil society, where both laws and the most important sociopolitical events of the moment are discussed and examined.

Another crucial mechanism ensuring coordination between the government and social organizations are the periodic meetings between the government and the Unity Pact, an alliance of the most important indigenous-peasant organizations of the country, including the CSUTCB, Bartolinas and the CSCIB (the Confederation of the Indigenous Peoples of Bolivia – CIDOB – and the National Council of Ayllus and Markas of Qullasuyu – CONAMAQ – left the pact following the conflict over the Isiboro-Secure Indigenous Territory and National Park – TIPNIS). The pact typically proposes laws in areas of particular interest to its member organizations, such as the agricultural sector. The organizations of the Unity Pact are also members of the National Coordination for Change, playing a crucial role in this organization in light of their organizational strength.

The participation of various social organizations in the formulation, discussion and approval of important laws through the National Coordination for Change and the Unity Pact ensures the inclusion of significant demands of social movements in the agenda of the government. However, these mechanisms are not efficient ways of involving large segments of the population in public decision-making if they do not have the support of the organizational structure of the social organizations included in the National Coordination for Change and in the Unity Pact. Indigenous-peasant organizations such as the CSUTCB, Bartolinas, CSICB and Cocaleros (coca growers) are typically organized in different levels of government. The decisions elaborated at the national level of these organizations, in turn expressed within the National Coordination for Change and the Unity Pact, are typically the result of national meetings including, as observed by a leading member of the Bartolinas, the participation of representatives of subnational units. ³⁶

The involvement of subnational units (las bases) in the decisions of the organization is remarkable. National or departmental leaders often travel to subnational levels, ³⁷ thus ensuring a constant involvement of subnational units in the major decisions of the organizations. Referring to the meetings of the Morales-led sindicatos (trade unions) of coca growers, Harten (2011: 59) notes that ‘Their main aims are the facilitation of communication between leaders and the grassroots, the sharing of information, and consensual decision-making by the bases after extensive discussion. In the same way Morales tries as president to visit grassroots organizations weekly, communication between leaders and the grassroots is considered in the sindicatos an essential prerequisite of making informed decisions.’

Similarly, a leading member of the CSCIB describes the periodic visits to the meetings organized by subnational units as one of the obligations of national leaders. ³⁸ It is this constant interaction between leaders and subnational units that makes the relationship between leaders and the organization’s base ‘structural and continuous’, thus contributing to the organization’s unity. ³⁹ The constant involvement of subnational units in decision-making at the national level is not only the consequence of the culture of these organizations but also the result of strategic considerations. National leaders are aware that their organization’s sociopolitical relevance is dependent on their ability to mobilize the grassroots when needed. By contributing to the unity of the organization, the meetings between national leaders and subnational units represent crucial mechanisms to maintain the organization’s mobilization strength and, in turn, its sociopolitical relevance. As observed by Harten (2011: 60) in his study of coca growers’ unions, besides favouring the emergence of a ‘shared identity’, ‘the meetings constitute central nodes of the network of coca producers. If Morales and Movement Towards Socialism need resources, for instance for a campaign, this network can be activated to mobilise people.’

It can be argued that the participatory advances of the Morales era have been achieved through a synergy between state institutions and the structure of civil society organizations. The demands emerging from the grassroots are channelled to the government through the organizational structure of indigenous-peasant organizations and the National Coordination for Change. Here, on the basis of a clear mandate from the grassroots, the national representatives of the social movements participate in the government along with members of the executive and the legislature.

Certainly, the National Coordination for Change is not without limitations. First, as noted by Wolff (2013: 46), in Bolivia the absence of more formal procedures represents an obstacle to the consolidation of existing participatory advances. Moreover, the relatively informal character of the National Coordination for Change, the composition and functioning of which are not determined by any law, has limited participation in this mechanism to social forces supporting the revolutionary process. However, unlike the Ecuadorian and Venezuelan cases – where governments have exerted a firm control over participatory mechanisms’ outcomes – in Bolivia participatory mechanisms such as the National Coordination for Change have provided large social groups with a venue where they can freely convey their demands and have not been used to undermine other democratic institutions, erode checks and balances and hence violate the democratic rights of the excluded.

Morales and Social Movements

The triumph in the 2014 presidential elections demonstrated, once again, the electoral strength of Morales. However, the indigenous-peasant movement’s rise to power is first and foremost a story of social mobilizations and protests. The years preceding Morales’s 2005 election were marked by intense mobilizations of those same indigenous-peasant groups supporting the Movement Towards Socialism, particularly the Morales-led Cocaleros and the CSUTCB. These mobilizations, following the often-discussed water ‘war’ of 2000, were decisive in giving visibility to the indigenous-peasant movement.

As well as supporting the Movement Towards Socialism’s electoral growth, as observed by Mayorga (2005: 97–9), through their mobilizations organizations such as the CSUTCB, the Cocaleros and indigenous groups from the lowlands have played a crucial role in shaping the political discourse, formulating significant demands for participation aimed at the opening of important participatory spaces, including a referendum on the management of natural resources and a constituent assembly. Unlike in Ecuador, where Correa was able to gain control of the participatory discourse originating from civil society, in Bolivia, Morales, because of his vulnerability to the mobilization and defection of indigenous-peasant organizations, has not been able to diverge considerably from the demands of the indigenous-peasant movement.

The importance of Morales should not be underestimated. As noted by Madrid (2012: Ch. 2), his charisma played an important role in the Movement Towards Socialism’s rise to power, contributing, for example, to the efforts of attracting non-indigenous voters. However, if Correa’s and Chávez’s election should be primarily ascribed, along with other contextual factors, to their personal abilities to convince the electorate, in Bolivia the 2005 election of Morales is instead unequivocally linked to the constant rapid strengthening of the indigenous-peasant social movement. Cameron (2009: 334) observes, for example, that ‘Whereas Chávez won office before mobilising his supporters, and his success has been largely based on promising to improve the lot of the poor within a resource-rich society, Morales was swept into power by indigenous social movements.’ As noted by a member of the Bartolinas on the relationship between Morales and social movements, ‘all alone the president cannot do anything’. ⁴⁰ Morales can thus be viewed as the representative of social forces able to determine, in any moment, the fate of his government and presidency.

The survival of the government is, in particular, closely associated with the support of four indigenous-peasant organizations: the CSUTCB, the Cocaleros, the Bartolinas and the CSCIB. The crucial role of these social organizations is evident if we consider that the Movement Towards Socialism and these organizations are not two separate entities. The Movement Towards Socialism is the result of the social movements’ decision in 1995 to create a ‘political instrument’ to compete in electoral contests. Various members of these organizations play leading roles in the party and are present in the national assembly, primarily as representatives of the social organizations supporting the government. Rather than an autonomous party, the Movement Towards Socialism can be viewed as the electoral ‘instrument’ of social movements, an instrument that loses its raison d’être without their support. More generally, it is possible to argue that the entire political project that culminated with the election of Morales – an election posing a symbolic end to centuries of indigenous exploitation – would become meaningless without the support of the aforementioned indigenous-peasant organizations. For Morales it would be highly problematic to justify a rupture with these organizations and, at the same time, maintain his image as the champion of indigenous and popular sectors.

It should also be noted that since the 1990s these highly organized and structured organizations have demonstrated a significant mobilization capacity, as demonstrated by their involvement in highly consequential mobilizations, leading, for example, to the fall of two presidents. The vulnerability of the government to the mobilization and defection of indigenous-peasant organizations has translated into the social movements’ ability to influence the agenda of the government. The facts influencing the government’s decision to terminate fuel subsidies (gasolinazo) in December 2010 are indicative. Initially determined to cut fuel subsidies by a governmental decree, the government was forced to repeal this measure following days of popular protests resulting from a significant increase in petrol prices. As well as the opposition of several other organizations, of particular relevance was the fact that discontent and ambiguous reactions involved even the social core of the Morales government, including the coca growers and leaders of the CSUTCB, jeopardizing the survival of the government (Mayorga 2011). A crucial factor behind the protests was the government’s decision not to involve social organizations in the decision-making process, as had occurred on previous occasions (Mayorga 2011). Interestingly, rather than curbing their autonomy, the links with the executive, combined with their importance in the government coalition, have provided social movements with an instrument to effectively challenge the government.

Undoubtedly, Morales does not merely receive demands from below without trying to influence them. As noted by Anria (2010), though accountable to social organizations, Morales enjoys significant power within the Movement Towards Socialism, a party, Anria (2010) argues, where bottom-up mobilization and cooptation attempts have coexisted. More generally, as suggested by Wolff (2013: 45–6), limitations have marked social movements’ participation in decision-making. However, the firm intention of the indigenous-peasant organizations to participate in the most important decisions, combined with the vulnerability of the government to their defection and mobilization, has drastically reduced the government’s room for manoeuvre in the creation of participatory mechanisms, thus favouring a more democratic participatory outcome.

Conclusions

This study has identified crucial conditions influencing the democratic qualities of participatory mechanisms and has shown how participatory mechanisms may contribute to the concentration of power and hence to the consolidation of hybrid political regimes. The findings of this study have important implications for theories of participatory democracy, for a further understanding of the left in Latin America, and for a better appreciation of the risks and opportunities of the deepening of democracy.

What emerges from this analysis is that when properly designed and implemented, participatory mechanisms can effectively resist the democratizing effects of autonomous, active or contentious civil societies. The recognition of these largely neglected properties is important in the elaboration of a theory able to explain participatory mechanisms’ ambiguous outcomes. In particular, significant attention needs to be devoted to the foundational moment and the relationship between those demanding participation and those creating participatory mechanisms.

Moreover, this study sheds further light on the differences within the Latin American radical left and on the prospects of alternative forms of democracy in Latin America. In particular, it shows that, unlike the Bolivian case and despite important progress in the area of socioeconomic rights, in Ecuador and Venezuela participatory mechanisms have not favoured the goals of the deepening of democracy, thus undermining the idea that these countries are possibly transitioning from liberal towards alternative, participatory forms of democracy.

Finally, the identification of the conditions favouring the manipulation of participatory mechanisms contributes to the recent strand of literature examining the undemocratic use of democratic institutions. The subtle ability of apparently democratic, participatory instruments to accumulate power in the executive is particularly worrisome because it seems to fit perfectly what Levitsky and Way (2010: 16–19) describe as an international environment increasingly unfavourable to openly autocratic practices. As observed by Mainwaring (2012: 963–4), the supposedly democratic character of participatory mechanisms can help governments ‘skirt international pressures for democracy’. By shedding light on the undemocratic manipulation of participatory mechanisms, an area still largely unexplored, this study contributes to a better understanding of the risks and opportunities of the deepening of democracy.