Qifa Nabki | A Lebanese Political Blog

Due to considerations of length and format, my article about Lebanese bicameralism for The National was limited to making the simple case that establishing a senate would be better than not establishing a senate. As we’ve seen from the ensuing discussion, many different objections to this argument can and should be raised. What I’d like to do, therefore, is to have a short series of posts – interspersed with updates on the cabinet formation which is just hurtling along at breakneck speed – on different aspects of the problem, and open them up for discussion.

Here are the main objections, as I see them:

1. A legislative body dedicated to protecting confessional interests only serves to entrench confessionalism.
2. Replacing the current parliament with a non-confessional, one-man-one-vote system will allow some groups to dominate the government in an undemocratic fashion.
3. A senate empowered to be anything more than a weak or purely symbolic body will maintain the legislative gridlock that paralyzes the current system.

In this post, I’d like to begin with the first objection. As Joe M. wrote in the previous discussion:

“I still don’t understand why you think adding an additional legislative body would be more effective at protecting minority rights than a simple law that explicitly protects minorities in “the realm of religious affairs: personal status laws, marriage, citizenship, etc…” Something in the realm of the American “bill of rights” for the protection of minority rights in Lebanon could accomplish your goals without the addition of a new legislative chamber…”

I feel that a critical part of this discussion — which is often simply taken for granted — is the question of what “confessional interests” need to be protected in the first place. Therefore, by way of approaching this objection, I would challenge readers to answer the following four questions.

1. What are “confessional interests” anyway?
2. How does the current system provide an effective and necessary check against inter-sect domination?
3. Are “confessional interests” just a smokescreen used by political parties that have built up identities as protectors of sectarian communities?
4. Is there a better way of protecting the rights of minority communities without introducing a bicameral system?

Moses stares down from the frontispiece of the U.S. Senate.

One of the best ways of approaching these questions is to imagine that Lebanon scrapped its political system altogether, and moved to hold elections using a new electoral law with the following features: no confessional quotas in a unicameral parliament (i.e. one chamber, not two); districts with an equal number of registered voters; a system of proportional representation or a mixed proportional-majoritarian system (like in the Boutros draft law); no requirements governing the confessional background of the key executive posts (President, Prime Minister, deputy Prime Minister, Speaker, deputy Speaker).

On top of this, let’s imagine that there were various constitutional reforms passed to give the legislative branch increased oversight over the Council of Ministers, and to compel the enactment of legislation in a timely fashion so that the government wouldn’t remain bogged down in gridlock all the time. In short, we’re talking about a non-confessional unicameral system with a variety of procedural reforms aimed at improving legislative efficacy and electoral law transparency/fairness.

How, if at all, would such a system threaten the rights of confessional communities? The floor is yours.

I’ve written an article for The Review, calling for the creation of a bicameral legislature in Lebanon. Some of you may remember a post from a while ago announcing the launch of an optimistic initiative called the Lebanese Campaign for a Senate. Well, this piece attempts to make the case in a more cogent fashion.

Here’s are the first few paragraphs of the article. Read the rest over at The National, and then come on back here to leave comments.

Two Houses, Many Mansions

Two months ago, with the world peering over its shoulder, Lebanon held parliamentary elections. Perhaps more significant than the surprising result – which saw the Western-backed March 14 coalition hold onto power – was the outpouring of enthusiasm for the election itself. Voter turnout reached record highs, and thousands of Lebanese expatriates returned home to cast their ballots, many of them taking advantage of airline tickets paid for by deep-pocketed political parties. The first truly competitive election held in decades, it was portrayed by all sides as the gateway to a new era (indeed, some claimed, a “Third Republic”) where the chronic dysfunctions of the post-war period – from corruption and mismanagement to sectarian violence and institutional immobilism – would be swept away under a bold new mandate.

Today, nearly 10 weeks after the last vote was counted, hopes of a fresh start have fizzled as Lebanon finds itself mired again in circumstances conspicuously reminiscent of the pre-election status quo. Prime Minister-designate Saad Hariri has faced one obstacle after another on his way to forming a national unity government, all the while fighting a rear-guard action against the splintering of his own parliamentary bloc.

While sluggish deliberations and brittle coalition governments plague many parliamentary democracies, Lebanon’s repeated bouts of state paralysis are symptomatic of deeper problems. The experience of the past four years, since the end of the Pax Syriana and the false stability it imposed, has made it all too clear that the basic principle of Lebanese democracy – consensual decision-making by confessional elites – is inadequate to the task of managing the country. The state functions primarily as a tool in the hands of a corrupt cartel of sectarian leaders, a space to compete over parochial interests at the expense of the national welfare.

The inevitable injustices engendered by this system have helped to maintain feelings of disillusionment and revanchism among Lebanese citizens, who have little recourse but to turn, ironically, to the patronage machines of their confessional leaders for the basic services that the government is unable to provide. In this way, a vicious cycle is set in motion, entrenching the original source of the system’s frailty and empowering the elites to continue to govern in their own interests. (keep reading)