On Friday, June 3, S&P Global Ratings announced that it would not downgrade South Africa’s credit rating to junk, letting South Africa breathe a sigh of relief. The outlook, however, remained negative. While some experts were confident that the rating would not be cut, most continued to warn that future economic or political turmoil could spark a downgrade later this year. The South African Treasury agreed, but remained positive releasing a statement saying:

Government is aware that the next six months are critical and there is a need to step up the implementation [of measures to boost the economy] … The benefit of this decision is that South Africa is given more time to demonstrate further concrete implementation of reforms that are underway.

South Africa, whose current rating stands at BBB- (one level above junk), has been facing weak economic growth—at 1 percent—over past months. The International Monetary Fund has given a 2016 growth forecast of 0.6 percent. Many feared that a downgrade could have pushed the country into a recession. Borrowing by the government would have also become more expensive, especially as it tackles a 3.2 percent of GDP budget deficit for the 2016-2017 fiscal year.

Other credit ratings agencies also are concerned with South Africa’s economic performance. Last month, Moody’s Investors Service ranked the country two levels above junk but on review for a potential downgrade, while Fitch Ratings is reviewing its current stable outlook and BBB- rating.

For South African Finance Minister Pravin Gordhan’s thoughts on the South African economy, see the April 14 Africa Growth Initiative event, “Building social cohesion and an inclusive economy: A conversation with South African Finance Minister Pravin Gordhan.”

This week, the Extraordinary African Chambers—located in Dakar and established in collaboration with the African Union—sentenced former Chadian President Hissène Habré to life in prison. Habré seized power in 1982, overthrowing then President Goukouni Oueddei. He fled to Senegal in 1990 after being ousted by current Chadian President Idriss Deby. After he fled to Senegal, the African Union called on Senegal to prosecute Habré. In 2013, the Extraordinary African Chamber was created with the sole aim to prosecute Habré. The Habré trial is the first trial of a former African head of state in another African country.

Habré faced a long list of charges including crimes against humanity, rape, sexual slavery, and ordering killings while in power. According to Chad’s Truth Commission,  Habré’s government murdered 40,000 people during his eight-year reign. At the trial, 102 witnesses, victims, and experts testified to the horrifying nature of Habré’s rule. His reign of terror was largely enabled by Western countries, notably France and the United States. In fact, on Sunday, U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry admitted to his country’s involvement in enabling of Habré’s crimes. He was provided with weapons and money in order to assist in the fight against former Libyan leader Moammar Gadhafi. Said resources were then used against Chadian citizens.

Also this week, Simone Gbagbo, former Ivorian first lady, is being tried in Côte d’Ivoire’s highest court— la Cour d’Assises—for crimes against humanity. She also faces similar charges at the International Criminal Court though the Ivoirian authorities have not reacted to the arrest warrant issued in 2012. In March 2015, Simone Gbabgo was sentenced to 20 years in jail for undermining state security as she was found guilty of distributing arms to pro-Laurent Gbagbo militia during the 2010 post-electoral violence that left 3000 dead. Her husband is currently on trial in The Hague for the atrocities committed in the 2010 post-election period.

On Monday, May 30, South African chemical and energy company Sasol Ltd announced that Mozambique’s ongoing debt crisis and continuing low global gas prices would not slow down its Mozambican gas project. The company expressed confidence in a $1.4 billion processing facility upgrade stating that the costs will be made up through future gas revenues. In explaining Sasol’s decision to increase the capacity of its facility by 8 percent, John Sichinga, senior vice president of Sasol’s exploration and production unit, stated, “There is no shortage of demand … There’s a power pool and all the countries of the region are short of power.” In addition, last week, Sasol began drilling the first of 12 new planned wells in the country.

On the other hand, on Monday The Wall Street Journal published an article examining how these low gas prices are stagnating much-hoped-for growth in East African countries like Tanzania and Mozambique as low prices prevent oil companies from truly getting started. Now, firms that flocked to promising areas of growth around these industries are downsizing or moving out, rents are dropping, and layoffs are frequent. Sasol’s Sichinga remains positive, though, emphasizing, "We are in Mozambique for the long haul. We will ride the waves, the downturns, and the upturns."

On December 12, 2015, 195 countries adopted the Paris Agreement, the most ambitious climate change pact to date. The document lays out a plan to curb greenhouse gas emissions, among other climate-related initiatives. Participating countries must now find ways to translate those ambitions into policy, and answer important questions about financing, transparency and accountability, national implementation, and accelerated emissions reduction goals, to name but a few. But one issue looms large: coal.

Coal-fired electricity is responsible for producing 40 percent of the world’s power and about 70 percent of its steel. The coal industry employs millions worldwide and provides billions of people with electricity. Analysts estimate that the world has hundreds of years of coal reserves in the ground, at current consumption levels. Its abundance, low price, and global availability make it a difficult fuel source to give up. But despite coal’s advantages, it poses significant environmental and health risks. Ten percent of coal consists of ash, which contains radioactive and toxic elements. It is responsible for over $50 billion in medical costs annually in the European Union alone. The environmental consequences of coal use, such as water contamination and habitat destruction, are common. Burning coal adds millions of tons of dangerous particulates and greenhouse gases, including carbon, to the atmosphere.

States and societies around the world rely on coal, even though many of its dangers have been known for decades. If the Paris Agreement is to succeed, global leaders must address the reasons why many countries—particularly in the developing world—still rely on coal. Better yet, they must find new ways to provide coal-reliant countries with affordable, alternative energy, and invest in new technologies that could help mitigate coal’s negative consequences.

COAL ACROSS THE WORLD

Globally, coal production and consumption has risen almost continuously for more than 200 years. The International Energy Agency has estimated that the world burned approximately 7,876 million tons of coal in 2013, adding over 14.8 gigatons of carbon to the atmosphere. But global coal statistics do not tell us much about markets and trends. In fact, coal usage varies enormously around the world, with some regions transitioning away from the resource as others have increasingly embraced it.

For example, stringent environmental, health, and safety policies in the United States have put increasing pressure on the coal industry. Well-funded environmental groups have succeeded in closing coal-fired power plants, and many states on the country’s west coast and in its northeast have aimed to create a coal-free power grid. Yet market forces have turned out to be the nail in U.S. coal’s coffin. The rise of natural gas in the United States has gave the country’s electricity producers an incentive to shift away from coal. In fact, U.S. coal consumption declined from a billion tons in 2008, to roughly 850 million tons by 2013. This year, analysts suggest that coal will fuel only 32 percent of all U.S. electricity, and natural gas will become the country’s leading electricity source for the first time. As a result of low prices, low returns, and political controversy, investors have shied away from coal, which has caused major coal companies to struggle to stay afloat. Of all announced new electricity generation capacity in the United States, not a single megawatt is coal-fired. Although change is happening, it will likely be decades before coal is no longer an important fuel source in the U.S. economy. Canada’s coal sector faces similar pressures: weak demand from Asia, public opposition to the construction of new export facilities, domestic environmental legislation, and the shale boom have all taken their toll.

In Europe, stringent air quality controls and climate change regulations have cut the use of coal dramatically in Denmark, Sweden, and the United Kingdom. But the EU emissions trading scheme, which relies on carbon offsets and carbon dioxide caps, has proven disappointing. In fact, most European countries still lack an economically competitive and readily available alternative to coal. Plus, the coal industry still has political power in capitals like Berlin and Warsaw, which lowers the European common denominator for energy policy, as well as its policies that fight climate change.

Photo courtesy of REUTERS/James Regan/File Photo. Coal is stockpiled at the Blair Athol mine in the Bowen Basin coalfield near the town of Moranbah, Australia, June 1, 2012.

In Asia, both Japan and South Korea are set to expand their use of coal despite signing the Paris Agreement. After the Fukushima disaster, Japan has implemented ambitious renewables and energy efficiency policies, but those cannot take the place of its nuclear energy production on their own. These countries are entirely import dependent, which makes natural gas prices high. This, in turn, makes natural gas a less likely fuel source as the countries transition to greener electricity. In this context, high-efficiency coal plants appear to be a viable alternative, especially as nuclear power remains highly controversial.

And outside of advanced economies, coal often plays the role it once played in Europe and North America. For over a decade, China was the main engine of global coal consumption, driving booms in coal mining and shipping. China’s domestic coal production skyrocketed, and other countries, such as Australia, experienced coal booms to keep pace with Chinese demand. Although China produced and consumed almost as much coal as the rest of the world combined in 2014, it seems that the country’s consumption has peaked. But China will still rely heavily on coal-fired electricity for decades. The country remains a key player in steel production, and millions of its citizens continue to work in the mining industry, despite recent layoffs.

South Asian countries continue to invest heavily in new coal-fired electricity plants and industrial projects. India may appreciate the risks of climate change, but its chief concern is delivering low-cost power to 350 million of its citizens who lack electricity. Coal is set to play a prominent role in meeting such goals. Countries like Indonesia, Thailand, and Vietnam have followed suit as they search for low-cost electricity to power their countries.

In short, coal remains a big player in the global fuel mix, even as it faces tough challenges from stringent environmental regulations, competition from other fuel sources, and a lack of new investments.

Photo courtesy of REUTERS/Sheng Li/Files. A labourer carries honeycomb briquettes at a coal processing factory in Shenyang, Liaoning province in this December 2, 2009 file photo.

WHITHER COAL?

Different strategies apply in different parts of the world when it comes to eradicating coal, despite the global agreement in Paris. Just as there is not a global energy grid, there is also no single, global transition to lower-carbon energy. Although some countries are transitioning away from coal, others continue to transition toward it.

Second, pragmatism and persistence—rather than ideological purity—remain key values as countries transition towards low-carbon economies. Natural gas provides North America with a backup fuel as it transitions to green energy. Without major bulk terminals on the west coast, western U.S. coal producers will not find new markets for their products overseas. And in Europe, policymakers will have to make good on long-promised and long-delayed changes to energy policy and infrastructure. If Germany and other EU states are to achieve promised clean energy transitions, coal production must be scaled back substantially across the continent. European leaders must also build an “Energy Union” that will accelerate the flow of cross-border electricity, if they are to achieve the Paris Accord’s climate change goals. Europe must also reform its existing carbon pricing mechanisms. And across China, Europe, and North America, workers will have to be re-educated for new job opportunities as the coal market dries up.

But for now, coal still keeps the light on around the world. It powers new, high-tech economies, as well as a huge share of traditional manufacturing. If hundreds of millions of Africans and Asians are to gain access to electricity, new coal-fired power plants will have to come online in the years ahead. As coal continues to play a prominent role in industrial processes like steel and cement making, technological investments are required to limit its consequences.

To tackle these challenges, coal advocates, as well as some climate experts, suggest that more countries must invest in carbon capture and sequestration (CCS) research. But such investments are lagging, and the world would require several dozen CCS projects in order to make the technology commercially viable in the long term.

If the Paris Accord is to succeed, the earth’s atmosphere cannot remain a free dump for billions of tons of pollution every year. In fact, virtually all greenhouse gas emissions must be reduced. Countries can impose taxes, cap-and-trade schemes, and regulation to make this happen. Governments will have to design unique strategies that are custom fit to their countries, and, in some cases, find opportunities with their neighbors as well. For example, some private and public institutions have chosen to stop financing coal-fired projects, and the Obama administration has indicated it will not give out new leases for coal mining on federal land. Others will choose to build more coal-fired plants until the alternatives are cheaper, or until someone pays them not to.

Globally, coal may indeed be at the beginning of the end. But the energy transition is not strictly global. It is also national, regional, and local. Coal remains economically competitive—attractive even—in many parts of the world. Some countries will wage wars on coal, which will be as much economic and financial as they are political. But some countries, like India, will host coal booms regardless of the consequences. After Paris, there is no point in ignoring coal. It will be powering the world—and the world’s debates—for decades to come.

This piece was originally published by Foreign Affairs.

When the Volkswagen emissions control scandal broke into the headlines in September, I wrote here how I felt like my lifelong love affair with VW had been violated. As an environmentalist, owning a Jetta that zipped along for 42 miles on a gallon of diesel was the best of both worlds. And it was a lie. My wife, Holly Flood, said she felt like she’d been “duped,” and since then she’s vowed never to buy another VW.

I’m not so sure. But I was pleased this week to see the agreed terms for the nearly half million of us who own the smaller diesel engine cars in the U.S. This was the largest car settlement in U.S. history.

What I like is the combination of individual and collective compensation for this crime.

On the individual side, if this deal is approved by the judge in early October, my family will get our 2009 Jetta TDI sedan fixed for free (if the Environmental Protection Agency approves the fix), and we’ll get a check for $5,100. Holly says that’s perfect timing for a down payment on a new car (which will not be a VW).

I’m pushing for a plug-in electric hybrid, which we can charge with renewable energy we get off the grid from our local provider, People’s Power & Light. In our case, for every electron we use, they pay to have one electron put in from wind power somewhere right here in New England. Hopefully we’ll have variable pricing of electricity by then, allowing us to charge the car when the juice is cheapest, like when the wind blows at night but few people are using much electricity.

The unknown for us is whether the VW fix will noticeably harm the performance of the car. I’m guessing it will, perhaps in its remarkable torque, in its gas mileage, or both. But at this point the car has tons of my wife’s commuting miles on it, so we’re hanging on to it as the in-town backup car. Under the settlement we could get an extra $7k and give up the car entirely. That may be tempting, as it’s at that point where it’s getting substantially more expensive to maintain, and the Kelley Blue Book value is around $6k. They apparently aren’t lowballing us.

The collective part of this agreement is actually more interesting.

VW agreed to pay $4.7 billion  into environmental programs, which in my estimation will eliminate more harm than they created. One estimate guessed that scores of premature deaths occurred in the U.S. from VW’s “defeat devices” that shut off emissions controls when they were not being tested. Most of the deaths were probably in California, where there were many more sales of diesels than elsewhere in the country. (Of course in Europe the concentration of diesels is much greater and the Guardian put the number of deaths at thousands in the U.K. alone.) 

One part of this fund will go to replace diesel buses with electric ones. This will measurably improve air quality in inner cities, the precise places where extra sooty VWs were causing ill health and premature deaths with their NOx emissions. Another part will go to install electric vehicle charging stations in California. This helps overcome the “chicken and egg” problem of people not being willing to switch to electric vehicles for fear of running out of juice. The settlement says that “Volkswagen must spend $2 billion to promote non-polluting cars (“zero emissions vehicles” or “ZEV”), over and above any amount Volkswagen previously planned to spend on such technology.” That counterfactual will probably be impossible to prove, but the idea here is fairness.

Sociologically, this is a fascinating case, because it reveals how our society resolves scandals that killed people through knowing contamination of the environment. As Deputy U.S. Attorney General Sally Yates harshly put it, "By duping regulators, Volkswagen turned nearly half a million American drivers into unwitting accomplices in an unprecedented assault on our environment." There are individuals inside this company who deserve criminal prosecution, but apparently most of the thousands of other employees did not know what was going on.

The corporate response has been interesting, and seems to vary sharply from how most U.S. auto firms have dealt with similar lawsuits and scandals in the past. VW did not drag out the battle, but set aside $16 billion immediately as a loss, and then settled rather generously with us. (This spring they had already given us a $500 gift card and $500 in repairs in what was essentially hush money.)

VW’s response to this crisis was creative, forward-looking, and ultimately pro-social. Just a week or so ago they announced that their new business model was to be in electrics: They announced they’d be rolling out 31 electric vehicles in the coming years. This is a remarkable turn for a company that pushed diesels for decades as the solution to climate change. This is what it looks like when a massive corporation whose reputation was built on trust and belief in the integrity of a brand seeks to battle its way back into a changing market.

Spending billions on charging stations and replacing diesel buses may make immediate sense—can we say if this is helping avoid premature deaths or it is merely crass self-interest? Does it matter? 

Of course it does. But my first impression of what VW did this week was of a fair deal that was not just lining my pocket. It was helping us get off fossil fuels as a society and benefiting human health and the environment in a substantial way. And by rebuilding a major employer in Germany, the U.S., and around the world into one that might be a part of the solution to climate change, this is a significant and fairly brilliant business move to position the company for the next half century.

Or am I merely a sucker for my old flame?

Climate change and the search for resources have turned the Arctic into an emerging market and an important trade route. Senior Fellow Bruce Jones, director of the Managing Global Order project, says that the top of the world poses possibilities for international tensions among interested nations claiming sovereignty, but at least so far, no serious conflicts have emerged.

Video

• Bruce Jones: Arctic Region’s Importance for Trade, Transit and Energy Is Increasing

In this post-election season and with a fiscal cliff looming, states and metros have begun the work of meeting their many challenges. They’re implementing game-changing initiatives to create jobs and restructure their economies for the long haul. The federal government needs to take notice and get on board note, Metropolitan Program policy experts Bruce Katz and Mark Muro as they urge a move for remaking our federalism and renewing the economy. Katz and Muro explain in this episode of @ Brookings.

Video

• Bruce Katz and Mark Muro: Remaking Federalism and Renewing the Economy

"At the end of the day, we need to remember that Daesh is more a product of the civil wars than it is a cause of them. And the way that we’re behaving is we’re treating it as the cause.  And the problem is that in places like Syria, in Iraq, potentially in Libya, we are mounting these military campaigns to destroy Daesh and we’re not doing anything about the underlying civil wars.  And the real danger there is—we have a brilliant military and they may very well succeed in destroying Daesh—but if we haven’t dealt with the underlying civil wars, we’ll have Son of Daesh a year later." – Ken Pollack

“Part of the problem is how we want the U.S. to be more engaged and more involved and what that requires in practice. We have to be honest about a different kind of American role in the Middle East. It means committing considerable economic and political resources to this region of the world that a lot of Americans are quite frankly sick of… There is this aspect of nation-building that is in part what we have to do in the Middle East, help these countries rebuild, but we can’t do that on the cheap. We can’t do that with this relatively hands off approach.” – Shadi Hamid

In this episode of “Intersections,” Kenneth Pollack, senior fellow in the Center for Middle East Policy and Shadi Hamid, senior fellow in the Project on U.S. Relations with the Islamic World and author of "Islamic Exceptionalism: How the Struggle over Islam is Reshaping the World," discuss the current state of upheaval in the Middle East, the Arab Spring, and the political durability of Islamist movements in the region. They also explain their ideas on how and why the United States should change its approach to the Middle East and areas of potential improvement for U.S. foreign policy in the region. 

Show Notes

Fight or flight: America’s choice in the Middle East

Security and public order

Islamists on Islamism today

Temptations of Power: Islamists & Illiberal Democracy in a New Middle East

Ending the Middle East’s civil wars

A Rage for Order: The Middle East in turmoil, from Tahrir Square to ISIS

Building a better Syrian opposition army: How and why

With thanks to audio engineer and producer Zack Kulzer, Mark Hoelscher, Carisa Nietsche, Sara Abdel-Rahim, Eric Abalahin, Fred Dews and Richard Fawal.

Subscribe to the Intersections on iTunes, and send feedback email to intersections@brookings.edu.

Editors’ Note: Donald Trump has exposed the tension between democracy and liberal values—similar to the Arab Spring, writes Shadi Hamid. This piece originally appeared on The Atlantic.

When I was living in the Middle East, politics always felt existential, in a way that I suppose I could never fully understand. After all, I could always leave (as my relatives in Egypt were fond of reminding me). But it was easy enough to sense it. Here, in the era of Arab revolt, elections really had consequences. Politics wasn’t about policy; it was about a battle over the very meaning and purpose of the nation-state. These were the things that mattered more than anything else, in part because they were impossible to measure or quantify.

The primary divide in most Arab countries was between Islamists and non-Islamists. The latter, especially those of a more secular bent, feared that Islamist rule, however “democratic” it might be, would alter the nature of their countries beyond recognition. It wouldn’t just affect their governments or their laws, but how they lived, what they wore, and how they raised their sons and daughters.

Perhaps more than at any other time, millions of Americans are getting a sense, however mild in comparison, of what it might feel like to lose your country—or at least think about losing your country—because of what people decide to do in the privacy of the voting booth. It still remains (somewhat) unlikely that Donald Trump, the now presumptive Republican nominee, can win a general election. Regardless of the final outcome, however, the billionaire’s rise offers up a powerful—and frightening—reminder that liberal democracy, even where it’s most entrenched, is a fragile thing.

* * *

When I hear my friends debating how, exactly, so many of their fellow citizens could support someone like Trump, it reminds me a bit of Egypt. In my forthcoming book, I relay a telling conversation I had four years ago, which has stayed with me since. A few days after the country’s first post-revolutionary elections concluded in January 2012, I visited my great aunt in her extravagant flat in the posh Cairo suburb of Heliopolis. She was in a state of shock, but worse than that was the confusion. It was one thing for the Muslim Brotherhood, long Egypt’s largest opposition group, to win close to 40 percent of the vote, but how could 28 percent of Egyptians vote for ultraconservative Salafi parties, which believed in the strict implementation of Islamic law?

Like most Egyptians, she personally knew Brotherhood members even if she didn’t quite like them, but she hadn’t had much experience with Salafis and seemed totally unaware that they had extended their reach deep into Egyptian society. She realized, perhaps for the first time, that the country she had thought was hers for the better part of 70 years would never quite be the same. It hadn’t really even been hers to begin with.

What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

What my aunt feared was that Egypt would become an “illiberal democracy,” a term popularized by Fareed Zakaria in his 2003 book The Future of Freedom, but one that’s still difficult for Americans to fundamentally relate to. In the American experience, democracy and liberalism seemed to go hand in hand, to such an extent that democracy really just became shorthand for “liberal democracy.”

As Richard Youngs writes in his excellent study of non-Western democracy, liberalism and democracy have historically been “rival notions and not bedfellows.” Liberalism is about non-negotiable personal rights and freedoms. Democracy, while requiring some basic protection of rights to allow for meaningful competition, is more about popular sovereignty, popular will, and accountability and responsiveness to the voting public. Which, of course, raises the question: What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

* * *

When the stakes are high, there is more to lose, and if there is more to lose, those on the losing end of a ballot box have powerful incentives to play “spoiler.” Fortunately, in the post-Civil War United States, the stakes have never reached what political scientist Barry Weingast calls the “threshold” at which citizens decide to defend themselves through extra-constitutional means, including by appealing for the military to take sides. This, in part, is why (good) constitutions are so important: They lower the stakes, reassuring citizens that even if their preferred party loses the election, it’s still just that—an election.

Donald Trump, or more specifically what he represents, calls some of these assumptions into question. Trump himself isn’t quite an Islamist, but he is a proponent of a kind of “illiberal democracy,” even if he himself may not be familiar with the term. Drawing on a wellspring of white nativism and machismo, candidate Trump has regularly made demeaning statements about entire groups of people, including African-Americans, Mexicans, and women. His commitment to the protections enshrined in U.S. constitution are questionable, at best, and if we assume the worst, downright frightening (the difficulty with Trump is that he’s not precise with words, so it’s sometimes hard to make sense of what he’s saying). He has expressed support for registering Muslims in a database, elaborating that they could “sign up at different places.” When a reporter asked how this was different from requiring Jews to register in Nazi Germany, Trump said “you tell me,” prompting The Atlantic’s David Graham to note that “it’s hard to remember a time when a supposedly mainstream candidate had no interest in differentiating ideas he’s endorsed from those of the Nazis.” Trump, for good measure, has also refused to disavow President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans.

The U.S. Constitution includes robust civil-liberties protections, enshrined in the Bill of Rights. But these protections are not unlimited. Contrary to popular belief, majorities—if they’re large enough—can, in fact, do nearly anything they want, even in established democracies. It’s only really a question of how high the majoritarian bar is. In the United States, two-thirds of Congress and 75 percent of the states can amend or repeal articles of the Constitution. They could theoretically pass a constitutional amendment banning abortion. In countries like Egypt, Tunisia, and Turkey, where alcohol is currently legal and relatively easy to find, the issue of alcohol consumption is a touchstone for endless “what if” hypothesizing. Yet, Prohibition happened not in any of those countries but in America, with large majorities in the Senate and House of Representatives as well as 46 of 48 states backing the 18th Amendment (of course, banning alcohol in the U.S. wasn’t justified on primarily scriptural grounds, while in Muslim-majority countries, prohibition is seen as fulfilling an explicitly Quranic directive).

In other words, built-in constraints and constitutional “guarantees” aren’t enough on their own to preclude illiberal outcomes. What Americans really depend on, then, is a shared political culture and the ideas and ideals that undergird it. As James Fallows notes, “Liberal democracies like ours depend on rules but also on norms—on the assumption that you’ll go so far, but no further, to advance your political ends.” But all it apparently takes is one man with charisma and an unusually perceptive understanding of the human psyche to change that. There are norms against politicians suggesting that minorities should have special identification cards. There are norms against saying you want to kill the families of terrorists. There are norms against encouraging your supporters to use violence against their political opponents. It’s not entirely clear why you don’t do or say these things (because Trump clearly has), but you just don’t. The very fact that Trump has made such frightening comments on national television—without any corresponding “disqualification” or decline in popular support—has already undermined these longstanding norms.

The United States has had demagogues before, but they rarely make for viable presidential candidates. This is democracy’s blessing as well as its curse: that people you really don’t like—people who you think might threaten the Republic—can actually win. In the specific context of the Republican nomination, Trump opponents basically called for prioritizing good outcomes over democratic ones. They continued to search for possible paths to denying Trump the nomination, despite the fact that, barring acts of God, he was certain to win the popular vote and a plurality of delegates in the primaries.

Even if Trump reached the magic number of 1,237 delegates, which would normally settle the matter, there were those who still seemed intent on scouring the rulebooks, parliamentary procedure, and delegate details in the hope of averting disaster. Democratic norms, the thinking goes, are great in normal contexts, but sometimes the stakes are simply too high to let democratic outcomes stand. As the columnist Walter Shapiro wrote, “[W]ith the threat of the first takeover of a modern political party by an authoritarian who traffics in racism and exudes contempt for the First Amendment ... [t]here would be nothing anti-democratic about GOP leaders using every mechanism in their power to stop Trump.” Nate Silver pointed out that “technically [Republicans would] be able to deny Trump the nomination even if he had a delegate majority by changing the rules at the last minute.” They could still theoretically do something like this, even after Trump’s decisive victory in Indiana. The Republican Party is not a country, and the party can disregard the preferences of primary voters if it so chooses, but elite pacts and back-room negotiations would seem decidedly antiquated during an unusually populist moment in American politics.

[T]here will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump.

This particular debate in some ways mirrors arguments over the tensions between democracy and liberalism, a debate that will only intensify if Trump gains ground on Hillary Clinton in the coming months. It is probably time to err on the side of imagination, since party elites and pundits failed to imagine the unthinkable once already. What if Trump actually wins the presidency? How would we as Americans deal with an outcome that at least some of us see as a potential danger to our Constitution as well as our livelihoods?

If Donald Trump wins, he would have, whether we liked it or not, a democratic mandate. Once in power, he might moderate his rhetoric and policies (yet another data point in the debate over the “inclusion-moderation hypothesis”), rendering at least some of this discussion moot. Yet it’s also possible that, facing a growing terrorist threat and a sputtering economy, more and more Americans might, like their newly elected president, dispense with the norms of reasonable conduct and support extreme measures. Still, a President Trump would be a legitimate president, having been freely and fairly elected by enough Americans. He would be, as much as it pains me to say it, our president. Still, there will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump. For those of us who study the Middle East, the idea of not respecting democratic outcomes is business as usual, but I never thought it would be up for debate in the United States.

* * *

“Deep state” is a phrase that’s used to describe the constellation of autonomous and self-perpetuating institutions, namely the judiciary, military, and security services, which operate outside the glare of the public and are immune to the electorate’s whims. This deep state, acting as the guardian of national identity, puts limits on what elected politicians can hope to accomplish. The deep state was responsible for four coups in Turkey, the most recent of which deposed the country’s first-ever democratically elected Islamist prime minister in 1997.

It would be difficult for Americans to think about their own government—or “regime”—in such terms. The U.S. military is subject to civilian control, while Supreme Court justices, though unelected and appointed to life terms, are nominated by the president and confirmed by the Senate. It is possible, however, to imagine a president so reckless as to activate state institutions against him or her, in a way that makes the notion of an American deep state more meaningful and relevant.

Former CIA Director Michael Hayden ignited some speculative debate when he said that the military “would refuse to act” if ordered by a President Trump to take actions that were clearly illegal, such as killing the families of terrorists. Moreover, he said, military commanders are “required not to follow an unlawful order.” Even short of flagrant illegality, the military can still do what it’s done, at times, with nearly every sitting president. Peter Feaver, a leading expert on civil-military relations, notes that “the historical record is replete with cases of the military shirking—withholding information and options, slow-rolling, end-runs to Congress and the media, inflating cost estimates, etc.—to thwart civilian policies they deem to be unwise.” Considering, however, that Trump would likely be more “unwise” than most past presidents, such tensions could intensify well beyond what America’s political system is accustomed to.

"[C]oup”...is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse.

One can also easily imagine left-of-center (and right-of-center) civil servants in the Departments of State and Defense working against the president from within to mitigate his effectiveness and even his authority. This would be good, insofar as Americans wouldn’t want their president doing things that were crazy, illegal, or both. But it would still raise difficult questions about democratic legitimacy and how far an elected president can pursue his preferred policies, especially when it comes to issues that aren’t clear-cut. If the military refused to obey orders, however justified their refusal, then it could very well erode norms against military intervention in domestic politics. In response to Hayden’s comments, host Bill Maher joked that the former CIA director was floating “a coup.” This is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse. The norm against “coups” is a powerful one, which explains why American analysts (if not the U.S. government) are generally uncomfortable with military coups in foreign countries. No one teaches us that military coups are bad. Rather, it’s something we absorb in the process of being American. It goes without saying, so it’s rarely said.

Recently, a few friends (who work on Middle East issues) and I had an interesting although ultimately frightening conversation, as Trump extended his delegate lead over Ted Cruz. Sometimes it’s useful to game out worst-case scenarios, however unlikely they might seem. We tried imagining a dystopian future and came up with internment camps, (threats of) military coups, and pro-Trump militias. Soon enough, the last didn’t seem nearly so farfetched, with volunteers offering to provide security at Trump rallies (for Trump supporters).

* * *

It is hard to imagine such things because, despite a long, low-intensity war on terrorism, America hasn’t faced a large-scale terrorist attack on the homeland since September 11, 2001. Democratic systems produce self-perpetuating norms, because they are accountable to a voting public. It’s this very responsiveness, though, that can be a source of vulnerability, if enough citizens, in the grip of fear, decide to prioritize “security” over liberty. As the legal scholar Christopher Kutz writes in the suggestively titled article “How Norms Die,” democracy can be “at the same time both fertile and toxic: fertile as a source of humanitarian values and institutions, but toxic to the very institutions it cultivates.”

This is something we can measure. As Daniel Bush observed, after analyzing Pew survey data from 2002 to 2014: “During each campaign season, respondents reported having a higher negative impression of Muslim Americans than in non-election years.” This is a bit more mild than the link between elections and religious riots in India. As the historian of religions Michael Cook notes, “There is no doubt that Hindu nationalist politicians believe that communal riots can get out the Hindu vote for them. ... Under the right conditions the communal riot is a winning [electoral] strategy.”

Norm shifting of an even more dangerous kind than India’s can happen rather quickly in countries where democracy is not yet consolidated. For example, millions of Egyptians who demanded freedom and democracy in 2011 turned seemingly against it in less than two and half years, supporting not just a return to authoritarian rule but the August 14, 2013 massacre of more than 800 protesters—what Human Rights Watch calls the “worst mass killing in [Egypt’s] modern history.”

The kinds of shifts that occur in established democracies are less nefarious, but they can happen just the same. Torture is a good example. Kutz calls the spread of global norms against torture “one of the most impressive successes of the post-war period.” Yet, in the United States, these norms began to erode after the attacks of September 11th. Soon enough, torture—or what some were now euphemistically calling “enhanced interrogation”—came to enjoy broad support among the American public. The lesson again is clear. However strong they may first appear, norms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think. Once their sanctity is undermined by authority figures (whether presidents or presidential candidates), others can judge that what was once considered shameful is now not just socially tolerated but also necessary, good, and just. This is why “political correctness”—even if it seems irritating and is sometimes abused to restrict reasonable debate—still represents a public good: It makes us think twice about saying things that might contribute to the erosion of liberal and democratic norms.

[N]orms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think.

We have now reached a point where current or former presidential candidates from both parties have flirted with the idea of internment camps (former Democratic candidate Wesley Clark has called for “segregating” radicalized Muslims who are “disloyal to the United States”). In a series of incidents that have received less attention, a Tennessee State Representative called for using state institutions, in this case the National Guard, to “round up” Syrian refugees. Meanwhile, the mayor of Roanoke, Virginia, called for suspending assistance to refugees, but went further in an official statement on government letterhead. “I’m reminded,” he wrote, “that President Franklin D. Roosevelt felt compelled to sequester Japanese foreign nationals after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and it appears that the threat of harm to America from ISIS now is just as real and serious as that from our enemies then.”

No less than Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia believed that it could happen here. On this, he is on strong ground, since it has, of course, already happened. In 1944, the Supreme Court upheld Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans in Korematsu v. United States. While Scalia said that the decision was “wrong,” he also issued a warning in his blunt style: “You are kidding yourself if you think the same thing will not happen again.”

The norm against internment has been undermined, even though Americans do not face anything close to the threat presented by the Nazis and Japan during World War II. Which raises the question of what a plurality, or even a majority, of Americans might be willing to support if they had to confront a threat that was truly existential. We Americans are not, today, at war, at least not in the normal sense. I hope to God that we never will be again. But we might be. And this is where Scalia’s words that day were perhaps most chilling, in part because he was right. Evoking the Latin expression inter arma enim silent leges, he reminded the audience that “in times of war, the laws fall silent.” All we will have then are the things we still believe in—our norms. But, by then, they might not be enough.

The Roosevelt House Public Policy Institute hosted a forum with Ted Piccone and Ambassadors Hardeep Singh Puri and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota as they discussed his new book, Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order.

While the spread of democracy over the last three decades has inspired hope for an international liberal order, recent shifting power balances and democratic backsliding are shaking this foundation. In his new book, Brookings Institution Senior Fellow Ted Piccone discusses how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—could play a critical role as examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices. 

Mr. Piccone, Hardeep Singh Puri, former Ambassador of India to the U.N. and Secretary General of the Independent Commission on Multilateralism, and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota, Ambassador of Brazil to the U.N. and former Minister of External Relations, discuss the ways in which these countries stand out for their embrace of globalization and liberal norms on their own terms—and how, in a multipolar world, they may impact our shared future.

A central function of the United States Congress is oversight of the executive branch. Congressional oversight, as exercised from the beginning of the nation, is an essential tool in making the separation of powers real by empowering Congress to check the executive. In recent years, however, as polarization has reached paralyzing levels, Congress has largely gotten out of the business of routine and prospective “police-patrol” oversight.  In the absence of the will and the capacity to do prospective oversight, Congress is at risk of losing its power to the executive branch and thus failing one of its most important constitutional roles.

This paper assesses whether or not anything can be done to get Congress back into the oversight business. Specifically, author Elaine Kamarck examines the following question: Assuming that future Congresses develop the political will to conduct oversight, do they have the capacity to do oversight of a large, modern, and complex executive branch?

As Kamarck illustrates, mismatched resources may make it difficult for Congress to resume its oversight function. The modern federal government is a complex and enormous enterprise. But as the executive branch has grown considerably over the past decades, Congress has adopted budget cuts that make the legislative branch less and less capable of undertaking the kinds of systemic oversight that can solve or prevent problems. Congress employs a mere 17,272 professional staff to oversee an executive branch consisting of 4.2 million civil servants and uniformed military. 

“The existing infrastructure that is supposed to help Congress be on top of the executive branch has fallen prey to a mindless dumbing down of Congress,” Kamarck states. She details the five entities that are meant to support Congress in its oversight role: committee staff, the Congressional Research Service, the Government Accountability Office, the Congressional Budget Office, and the Inspectors General, all of which are understaffed and under-budgeted. Kamarck recommends the first thing Congress should do to fix its oversight problem is to properly staff the agencies it already has and to stop nickel and diming and degrading its own capacity.

Furthermore, Kamarck calls for a “Congressional Oversight Office,” a body charged with evaluating governmental performance before a crisis arises. This office should be staffed by implementation professionals who can gather the signals from all the other oversight organizations annually and in sync with the budget cycle.

“Congress needs to get back into the business of productive executive branch oversight,” concludes Kamarck. A Congressional Oversight Office is certainly a step in that direction.

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Recent political movements within the United States have raised concerns about the health of American democracy. With hyper-partisanship dividing the country and Donald Trump—the most unlikely, unsuitable, and unpopular presidential nominee of a major party in American history—securing the Republican nomination, the question emerges of whether democracy in America has gone awry.  And if so, is it too much or too little democracy that’s to blame?

To help address those questions, in this paper, Thomas E. Mann summarizes and discusses the findings of Christopher Achen and Larry Bartels’ ambitious treatise on American democracy: “Democracy for Realists.” Achen and Bartels contend that the traditional conception of voters as rational, attentive decision-makers does not hold against empirical evidence. Instead, voters are best understood as members of partisan groups, which influence their perception of candidates, issues, and even simple facts. According to Achen and Bartels, perceived social identities drive voting decisions, rather than rationality.

Mann notes that most scholars would agree that voters do not follow the expectations of idealistic models, but draws attention to competing theories that are far less damning to voters’ rationality. In particular, the research of Paul Sniderman and Arthur Lupia suggests that voters are far more capable than Achen and Bartels would assert. In their view, voters have enough rationality and information to ensure a well-functioning democracy.

As Mann summarizes the arguments:  Achen and Bartels believe that citizens and elections are held to impossible, idealistic standards in the folk theory of democracy, which perpetuates myths and works against government responsiveness. Sniderman and Lupia, on the other hand, are offended by those who dismiss citizens as ignorant and incompetent; they seek to defend voters’ dignity and demonstrate the rationality and efficacy of their behavior in American democracy.

What does this scholarship tell us about the coming presidential election, and the future of American democracy?  Ultimately, Mann concludes that Achen and Bartel’s perspective is not anti-democratic, even if it is built on a belief that too much importance is placed on the often random and myopic outcomes of elections.  Instead, Mann believes that “Democracy for Realists” reveals the real democratic deficit facing America is one stemming not from too much democracy, but  from “asymmetry in political resources and representation of different segments of American society.” Truly understanding this problem and its root cause is a step toward strengthening American democracy. 

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There will always be winners and losers as the global economy shifts and evolves. For a long period in the mid- to late 20th century, those losers were cities. Across the developed world, suburbanization shrank inner-city populations just as the industrial base that had once fueled growth succumbed to globalization.

At the end of the 20th century, as global cities such as New York and London pulled themselves out of the malaise of the 1970s, economic growth still eluded many smaller, formerly industrial cities across the United States and Europe. Catalyzing recovery in those older industrial areas was the focus of a decade-long effort of the London School of Economics and the Brookings Institution. As is clear in Cities for a Small Continent, a new book from Anne Power at LSE, the potential in these cities is greater now than ever. In our contribution to the volume, we examine the why and the how of economic transformation in several U.S. cities. 

There has been a lot of focus on the shift in location preferences that is bringing people back to cities. Significant shares of millennials as well as empty nesters are voting for urban communities where they can live, work, and play. At least as important is the restructuring of the U.S. economy—from a closed innovation system where corporations operated isolated research facilities, to an open, networked economy where corporations innovate in collaboration with universities, researchers, entrepreneurs, and investors. Innovation is critical, because as Antoine van Agtmael and Fred Bakker assert in The Smartest Places on Earth, “the era of cheap [in manufacturing] is over; the era of smart has begun.”

These shifts in social preferences and market forces revalue cities and “cityness”—proximity, density, vibrancy, authenticity, and diversity. In particular, population and employment growth is occurring in downtowns and midtowns that have key institutions and assets: universities, medical campuses, cultural venues, historic buildings, walkable streets, and transit connectivity.

This regeneration is being delivered through a new localism in U.S. governance. Every day brings new bottom-up, city-led approaches to the training of workers, the education of children, the mitigation of climate change, the financing of infrastructure, and the development of affordable housing for our workers and quality places for our young and elderly populations.

Across this wide range of activity are some common characteristics.

Cities are harnessing the power of networks of government, business, civic, philanthropic, university, and community institutions and leaders rather than relying on public-sector solutions alone. The focus of the new American localism on unlocking the latent capacity and creativity of public, private, and civic networks differs markedly from the focus of traditional federalism on relationships between levels of government, particularly the federal government and the states.

Cities and metropolitan areas are also deploying capital from an array of public, private, and civic sources at the local, national, and even global levels. With federal investment dwindling, financing of critical projects will increasingly come from public-private collaboration and require experimentation around new forms of innovative finance.

Our chapter highlights four cities in the United States—Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Cleveland, and Detroit—where this new localism has delivered tangible results. Though each city is at a different point of recovery, all have experienced growth in their cores that has been enabled and co-led by anchor institutions, major philanthropies, private-sector leaders, and civic groups. The biggest investments and decisions in these places have been the results of collaborative processes—proof that cities and the institutions that invest in them can be a source of long-term, strategic thinking that ultimately leads to healthier and more prosperous urban economies.

Similar efforts are spreading across the United Kingdom and Europe, though the systems there tend more toward public-sector leadership. In Sheffield, England, a concerted effort by business and academic institutions to “upskill” the manufacturing base, enabled by the flexibility of a “city deal” from the central government, has made the city a global center of advanced manufacturing. Bilbao, Spain evolved from a manufacturing base to a vibrant urban cultural hub by leveraging the value of publicly owned land and other assets for regeneration purposes. Stories such as these are featured throughout Cities for a Small Continent, as well as in a new series of seven case studies from LSE.

We are still in the early stages of this rebalancing of growth. Cities and metropolitan areas experienced decades of population and employment decentralization, poverty concentration, racial separation, and de-industrialization. Such patterns do not get changed overnight. But they are changing. As cities innovate, those solutions must be captured and codified and then replicated across the world.

Watch the May 24, 2016 LSE launch event for Cities for a Small Continent here: 

Editor’s Note: In the aftermath of the United Kingdom's vote to leave the European Union, we are left with more questions than answers. Dhruva Jaishankar writes that with all the questions about what happens next, there's a bigger question worth asking: What are the implications of Brexit for democracy? Arguably, Brexit represents the first major casualty of the ascent of digital democracy over representative democracy. This piece was originally posted by The Huffington Post.

In the aftermath of the United Kingdom's vote to leave the European Union, we are left with more questions than answers. What kind of relationship will the UK now forge with the EU, and how will that affect economic relations and migration? Will Scotland and Northern Ireland opt to leave? What is the future of British politics, given turbulence within both the Conservative and Labour Parties? Will a successful Brexit set a precedent for other EU members -- perhaps even some eurozone members-- to leave the union? What are the long-term economic consequences of the resulting uncertainty? Will Brexit even happen at all, given the absence of a clear post-referendum plan, the apparent unwillingness of 'Leave' campaign leaders to invoke Article 50 of the Lisbon Treaty, and the fact that the referendum was advisory and non-binding? Answers to these questions will make themselves evident in the coming weeks, months, and years.

[D]igital democracy... has contributed to polarization, gridlock, dissatisfaction and misinformation.

But there's a bigger question worth asking: What are the implications of Brexit for democracy? Arguably, Brexit represents the first major casualty of the ascent of digital democracy over representative democracy. This claim deserves an explanation.

When historians look back at the world of the past 25 years, they will likely associate it not with terrorism or growing inequality but with the twin phenomena of the "rise of the rest" (particularly China and India) and of globalization. Globalization involves the easier, faster and cheaper flow of goods, people, capital and information. One big enabler of globalization is the internet, the global network of networks that allows billions of people to cheaply and easily access enormous amounts of digital information. The rise of service and high-technology industries, trade liberalization, container shipping, and the development of financial markets have also been important enablers, as is the increased ease and lower cost of travel, particularly by air.

Many technology optimists have assumed that globalization would lead to the democratization of information and decision-making, and also greater cosmopolitanism. Citizens would be better informed, less likely to be silenced, and able to communicate their views more effectively to their leaders. They would also have greater empathy and understanding of other peoples the more they lived next to them, visited their countries, read their news, communicated, and did business with them. Or so the thinking went.

[L]eaders only exploit the vulnerabilities of a post-fact world. The conditions have been laid by the digital sphere.

But there has been little to justify such panglossianism. There is some evidence for a correlation between greater information, political democratization and economic progress, in that all three have advanced steadily, if at different paces, over the past two decades. But that correlation is weak. Instead, digital democracy -- the ability to receive information in almost real time through mass media and to make one's voice heard through social media -- has contributed to polarization, gridlock, dissatisfaction and misinformation. This is as equally applicable to the countries in which modern democracy took root -- in the United States and Europe -- as it is to India, the biggest and most complex democracy in the developing world.

The ascent of digital democracy around the world has some shared features. One characteristic is that access to greater information has, rather counterintuitively, contributed to a "post-fact" information environment. Nick Cohen -- speaking of British pro-"Leave" journalists-turned-politicians Boris Johnson and Michael Gove --called out their use of bold claims, their contempt for practical questions, their sneering disregard for expertise, and their transgressions of the bounds of political spin. These tactics are not all that dissimilar to Donald Trump's assertions about Barack Obama's birth certificate or immigration policies, or Subramanian Swamy's insinuations about the nationality of senior Indian policymakers.

But leaders only exploit the vulnerabilities of a post-fact world. The conditions have been laid by the digital sphere. A recent example springs to mind. There is a widespread belief on Indian social media that US presidential candidate Hillary Clinton is somehow anti-India, pro-Pakistan, and/or anti-Modi. I am no supporter of Ms. Clinton, but as someone who worked on foreign affairs in Washington and knows many of her advisors, I found these claims baffling. In fact, Clinton's political opponents (whether Barack Obama in 2008 or Donald Trump in 2016) have accused her of being too close to India, while Pakistanis often view her as critical of their country and Prime Minister Modi appears to enjoy cordial relations with her. After some inquiries, and a few tips, I managed to trace these sentiments to a single publication, a poorly sourced and misleading column that gained widespread circulation upon its release. The article's contents were deemed sufficiently credible to have now become instilled as absolute fact in the minds of many Indians active online. In a digital democracy, a lie or (better yet) a half-lie if told enough times becomes truth.

In a digital democracy, a lie or (better yet) a half-lie if told enough times becomes truth.

Another outcome of digital democracy may be a variation of what the psychologist Barry Schwartz has called the paradox of choice. Quite possibly, the greater abundance of political choice leads to less satisfaction, and the result is citizens increasingly voicing their displeasure with their available political and policy choices. The political platforms of mainstream parties rarely adhere entirely to individual voters' views. That may explain why many voters are gravitating towards parties, factions or leaders who offer the simplest messages, and project themselves as alternatives to the mainstream.

A third result of digital democracy, and one that has been better documented, is the political echo chamber. Social media, rather than creating connections with people who possess differing views and ideologies, tends to reinforce prejudices. As the psychologist Nicholas DiFonzo has noted, "Americans across the political spectrum tend to trust the news media (and 'facts' provided by the media) less than their own social group." This makes it easier for views and rumours to circulate and intensify within like-minded groups. Similar digital gerrymandering was evident in the EU Referendum in Britain and the polarization is palpable in the Indian online political space.

Finally, instant information has increased the theatricality of politics. With public statements and positions by governments, political parties and individual leaders now broadcast to constituents in real time, compromise, a necessary basis of good governance, has become more difficult. When portrayed as a betrayal of core beliefs, compromise often amounts to political suicide. Political grandstanding also contributes to legislative gridlock, with elected representatives often resorting to walkouts, sit-ins, or insults -- all manufactured for maximum viral effect -- instead of trying to reach solutions behind closed doors. Even as ease of travel allows legislators to spend more time in their constituencies, making them more sensitized to their constituents' concerns, less gets done at the national or supranational level. It is a trend that, once again, applies equally to the United States, Europe, and India.

Social media, rather than creating connections with people who possess differing views and ideologies, tends to reinforce prejudices.

The unintended consequences of digital democracy -- misinformation and discontent, polarization and gridlock -- mean that the boundary between politician and troll is blurring. The tone of democratic politics increasingly reflects that of anonymous online discourse: nasty, brutish, and short. And successful politicians are increasingly those who are able to take advantage of the resulting sentiments. Exploiting divisions, appealing to base instincts, making outlandish claims, resorting to falsehoods, and pooh-poohing details and expertise. All that could just as easily describe the playbooks of populists around the world, on the right and left: Marine Le Pen, Frauke Petry, Donald Trump or Subramanian Swamy as much as Jeremy Corbyn, Beppe Grillo, Bernie Sanders or Arvind Kejriwal.

The unintended consequences of digital democracy -- misinformation and discontent, polarization and gridlock -- mean that the boundary between politician and troll is blurring.

In all these cases, populists are willing to cross the lines that mainstream parties have flirted with, becoming forces that the centre cannot hold. US Republicans fanned the anti-immigration sentiments that first the Tea Party and then Trump are only taking to their natural conclusions, just as mainstream Democrats' economic protectionism has been seized upon by Sanders. Cameron's euroscepticism, explained away initially as constructive criticism, spiralled out of control with Brexit, just as those who pronounced the death of New Labour helped paved the way for Corbyn. Will the same one day apply in India, to the economic populism of the Congress, of which Kejriwal has become a new torchbearer, or to the chauvinism of the right, which Swamy now threatens to run away with?

Brexit is not anti-globalization so much as a product of globalization. It is also a product of democracy rather than an affront to it. But it is a democracy of a different sort, one that many of its ideological forebears anticipated. When James Madison warned of "the superior force of an interested and overbearing majority," or John Stuart Mill cautioned against "a social tyranny more formidable than many kinds of political oppression," or BR Ambedkar argued (in a slightly different context) that "political tyranny is nothing compared to social tyranny," they could just as easily have been speaking in 2016 as in 1787, 1859, or 1936. Democrats around the world may not yet be married to the mob, but plenty have been betrothed.

None of this should be interpreted as some kind of nostalgia for an older, simpler world. That world was not necessarily simpler, but it was more violent and chaotic, prejudiced and unfair, and poor and backward. It may be hard to discern amid the smoke and noise, but there are some benefits to digital democracy. Information is no longer in the hands of the few. It is easier than ever to bring injustices to light. And the same process can throw up mainstream leaders from backgrounds that are far from privileged, such as a Barack Obama, Angela Merkel, or Narendra Modi. Two of the three, Obama and Modi, rose to power on the backs of unprecedented social media movements.

But representative democracy as we have come to know it is under threat, and Brexit represents the first major casualty. Rather than fight the tide, a collective rethink is needed about how to make democracies resilient and productive in the digital age. It won't be easy.

U.S. and EU officials have called on Turkey to show restraint amid concerns that Friday's failed coup attempt will be the pretext for an authoritarian crackdown. Turkey’s ability to investigate the putsch will be compromised by the fact that President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has repressed the media and weakened the judiciary, says Kemal Kirisci, of the Brookings Institution. The coup attempt will likely bolster Erdoğan’s efforts to consolidate power, and that will make any investigation into the true causes of the coup difficult, Kirisci says.

President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has pinned responsibility on the cleric Fethullah Gülen, who lives in self-imposed exile in the United States. Is that credible?

It is possible [that the Gülen movement is responsible], but this needs to be thoroughly investigated. The [Turkish] government has long argued that Fethullah Gülen leads a parallel state from Pennsylvania, where he has been living since 1997. The journalist and academic Ali Bayramoğlu has said that the movement, going back to the 1980s and early 1990s, began to systematically place their students in the police and military academies. These students were closely monitored and accompanied.

Other commentators have argued that it's unbelievable how F-16 pilots, on whom the state has spent more than a million dollars each to educate, attacked the Turkish parliament, military headquarters, intelligence services, and communications centers. How can a well-trained, prestigious F-16 pilot do this unless they are deeply attached to a cause? The movement also [includes] high-ranking judges and officers, including many one-star generals, who have been arrested.

Erdoğan has renewed his calls on the United States to extradite Gülen. Is this more plausible after the attempted coup?

Turkey has for a long time been seeking Gülen’s extradition, but the United States has not been cooperative, saying there was not enough evidence to build a case. However, the [U.S.-Turkey] extradition treaty refers to an obligation to extradite anyone who attempts to assassinate the leaders of one or the other country. There clearly was an attempt to assassinate Erdoğan: the hotel where he had been staying was attacked, and there was an attempt to control the airport where he was supposed to land. A necessary condition of extradition is that a convincing connection between the coup and the sought-after person is established; that should be the focus of cooperation.

Many analysts expect that Erdoğan will use the attempt as a pretense to invest the presidency with full executive powers, as he’s long sought.

The difficult issue will be to assess Erdoğan’s accusations independent of his political ends. Many commentators say the allegations put forward by the government serve his political aspirations: Erdoğan has become, de facto, the executive president of Turkey, but he wants to introduce an element of legality to it, which will require either a constitutional amendment or a completely new constitution. Opinion polls just before the coup suggested that the public, even supporters of [the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP)], did not look favorably on it. This kind of threat to the system gives him considerable leverage [to codify an executive presidency], and I suspect he will follow that path rather than what some commentators are calling for, bringing the polarized country to a consensus through dialogue.

How to sort that out from the pursuit of the truth will be a difficult exercise, and I’m not sure today’s Turkey is equipped to do it, given the way the media has been repressed and the judiciary has been brought under the influence, if not control, of the government. These measures raise serious doubts about Turkey’s ability to investigate this within the realm of the rule of law.

The Incirlik air base, from which a U.S.-led coalition carries out air strikes against the self-proclaimed Islamic State, just reopened after a temporary closure. Will the coup attempt have broader implications for the anti-ISIS campaign?

Cooperation on ISIS is important, but much more so is the future of democracy in Turkey. A Turkey that is democratic is a Turkey of the rule of law, and a secular Turkey is one in which sympathy for such extremist groups is much less. Such a Turkey shares common values with the West, which makes cooperation much easier.

It looks like a large number of officers—colonels as well as one-star generals—were involved, and so the Turkish military is going to experience a period of weakness. That’s where U.S. cooperation, on intelligence and counterterrorism, is critical. Such cooperation demands trust. That trust will partially, but importantly, be a function of [cooperation over] the Gülenist dossier.

The United States and Turkey are going to have to find a way to cooperate over the PYD (Kurdish Democratic Union Party). [Editor’s note: the United States backs the Syrian Kurdish party’s militant wing, the YPG, to combat the Islamic State; Turkey says the group has aided its compatriots in Turkey, the PKK, whose insurgency against the state resumed in July 2015]. The United States enjoys leverage over the PYD, and now it’s ever more important that it keeps the PYD in line so it does not become involved in the conflict in Turkey and strengthen the hand of the PKK while Turkey is vulnerable.

Turkey hosts roughly three million refugees and the country is party to an agreement with the EU to stem migration to Europe. What will EU-Turkey relations look like in the aftermath of the coup attempt?

If the perpetrators had gained control of government, it would have led to civil war, so the very fact that the coup attempt collapsed is saving Europe from waves of Turkish asylum seekers. The EU will need to expand its basis of cooperation with Turkey, because this coup attempt will adversely impact Turkey’s ability to deal with these refugees. There will likely be a purge from some of the bureaucracies and organizations that deal with them.

More broadly, both U.S.-Turkey and EU-Turkey ties have been strained lately. Will the Turkey’s alliance with the West come out on stronger footing after their condemnation of the coup attempt?

Helping with the investigation to establish the truth will be critical. The way in which, at the end of the day, [the EU and United States came out] with support for the elected government, just as Turkish opposition parties did, should entitle them to some influence, calling on Turkey to live up to the norms, standards, and values of democratic society.

The EU and United States together must reanchor Turkey solidly within the Western alliance. Erdoğan, as much as [the United States and EU member-states] may resent him or disagree with policies, must be made to feel that he's welcome back in the ranks, the way he was between 2003 and 2010, on the condition he reforms his policies.

Erdoğan and the people around him, especially [former Prime Minister Ahmet] Davutoglu, had delusions of grandeur. They dreamed they were going to lead the ummah, the Islamic world. This is all gone now: the emperor is naked. Erdoğan seems to recognize Turkey has boxed itself into a corner and wants to come out in the direction of the West. There is nowhere else to go. Turkey needs tourism, international trade, and foreign investment, and to protect its national security. On all these grounds it needs cooperation, and it’s not going to come from Iran, China, or Russia, even if that might be their preference. It can only come from the West.

Turkey may also recognize that the West is in trouble too, and if the West cannot come out of that trouble, Turkey will be in even deeper trouble. Brexit is going to have a negative impact on Turkey's export market and tourism. An EU in trouble is not going to be able to give visa liberalization to Turkish nationals, which symbolically will anchor Turkey in the West, and is also important economically. If the EU and United States move to the right and say no to free trade agreements [and migration], Turkey will not benefit. Both sides next each other even more than in the past.

Copyright © Council on Foreign Relations 2016, republished with permission

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The failed coup in Turkey on July 15 to 16, organized by factions within the Turkish military in an attempt to overthrow the government of President Erdoğan, represents both a victory and a new trial for Turkish democracy. Although the Turkish citizenry brought the country back from the brink of anarchy and civil war, many analysts see last week’s events as a consequence of the political instability and discord that has been mounting for years as Erdoğan has consolidated powers, marginalized the opposition, and redefined Turkey’s democracy. How will the president react in the aftermath of the coup? Will the democratic backsliding intensify, or can the thwarted coup offer new opportunity for reconciling the deeply-polarized nation?

The upheaval and political instability in Turkey also holds significant implications for Turkey’s foreign policy and the fate of a neighboring region already in turmoil from the war in Syria and insecurity in Iraq. The West desperately needs a stable, democratic, and predictable partner in its NATO-ally Turkey to address the many challenges besetting the region and to fight the Islamic State (or ISIS). How will recent events affect regional stability and Turkey’s cooperation with the West on security issues, including the resettlement of Syrian refugees? What does the failed coup mean for the coalition against ISIS engagement in Syria?

On July 20, the Foreign Policy program (FP) at Brookings hosted a panel discussion to consider these questions and other domestic and international consequences of the coup attempt in Turkey. Brookings Senior Fellow and Director of the Center on the United States and Europe Fiona Hill introduced and moderated a wide-ranging conversation featuring FP Senior Fellows Shadi Hamid, Kemal Kirişci, Michael O'Hanlon, and Ömer Taşpınar.

After the discussion, the speakers took questions from the audience.

Video

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Audio

• Turkey after the coup attempt: Implications for Turkish democracy, foreign policy, and the future of the Syrian War

Transcript

• Transcript (.pdf)

Event Materials

• 20160720_turkey_coup_transcript