By Eron Henry
It was July 2007, and I was at a global conference in Accra, Ghana. My first time in Africa. A group of French-speaking Africans from various countries, learning I was an employee of the United States-based planners, accosted me about the language limitations of the event.
“What happened to French translation? Don’t you know much of Africa is French speaking?”
Then, hearing an unfamiliar accent, they asked, “Where are you from?”
“Jamaica.”
“Jamaica?”
“Yes.”
“We envy you, we envy you.”
I was taken aback. “You envy me! Why?”
“You were colonized by the British. We had the French. Look at us. Look at us. Every country colonized by France is in political chaos.”
It was a surreal moment. I had never thought to be proud of our former colonizers, enslavers, and oppressors.
Since then, I have learned this is an African thing. French-speaking Africans (though not all), which includes countries colonized by Belgium, tend to look at their predominantly English-speaking counterparts with a level of political envy. Several countries on the continent, regardless of European connection, have had their moments in the political doldrums. But by and large, those formerly occupied by the British have had a more stable political history since gaining independence. Think Nigeria, Ghana, Kenya, and Botswana.
I took a cursory look elsewhere and recognized a pattern. Not only French-speaking, but Spanish- and Portuguese-speaking countries have had much more turbulent political histories than those formerly occupied by the British.
In the Caribbean, for instance, Cuba and the Dominican Republic (Spanish), as well as Haiti (French), have had dictatorships. No former British colony ever had a dictator and most have remained politically stable. The United States invaded Grenada in 1983 because it was supposedly close to being a socialist dictatorship. That assessment was seriously disputed. The radical Jamaat al Muslimeen attempted a coup in Trinidad and Tobago in July 1990, but this was quickly thwarted. Apart from those two major events, English-speaking Caribbean island nations have been political paragons of virtue, relatively speaking.
On the mainland of North, Central and South America, all the countries colonized by the Portuguese (Brazil), the Dutch (Suriname), and the Spaniards (most other nations south of the USA), have had guerilla warfare, coups, or dictatorships. Without exception. The ones that did not, Belize and Guyana, were British colonies and have had regular general elections and the peaceful transfer of power. Guyana’s elections in 2020 went to the courts (the country has a semi-presidential system), which overturned the purported official results after accusations of chicanery and fraud in the counting (not the vote).
What is it about British colonialism that, on the surface, seemed to have left a more stable, if imperfect political legacy than the French, Belgians, Portuguese, and Spanish? The answer seems to boil down to the differences between republican democracy and parliamentary democracy.
(Several former British colonies such as India, Dominica, and Trinidad and Tobago, are republics, replacing the British monarch, Queen Elizabeth II, as head of state. In such instances, the president’s role is ceremonial with little to no executive authority. Others have a semi-presidential system while others, following USA’s lead, are full republics whose president has full executive power. However, British parliamentary influence remains in many of these republics, even those with an executive president.)
In parliamentary democracies bequeathed by the British, the party that wins the most seats in the house forms the government. Typically, the leader of the winning party becomes prime minister, but it is not a given. In other words, in parliamentary democracies, parties get elected, not individuals.
It is different in pure republican democracies. In the republican system, it is the most popular person who wins the vote. That person runs as an individual, even if he or she runs on a major party ticket. Likeability is a much bigger factor than it is in the parliamentary system. In the United States for instance, a party can win both the house and the senate and lose the presidency. Vice versa, a party may win either or both the house and the senate but lose the presidency. This would not happen in a parliamentary democracy.
In republicanism, great power rests within the hands of an individual. In the parliamentary system, power resides in the legislature, which includes opposition parties. The head of government, usually a prime minister, is also a member of parliament. He or she has no choice but to debate with the opposition. All ministers of government are law makers, whether in the elected house or the senate. They, too, must debate in the house with the opposition. In Jamaica and other English-speaking Caribbean countries, entrenched and deeply entrenched laws cannot be changed or passed without a super majority vote, oftentimes a two-thirds majority. To have a supermajority vote, opposition parties must support the measure. This acts as an effective check and balance against political abuse.
Another difference is the judiciary. While no system is perfect, it is inconceivable that the courts within a parliamentary system would be packed by judges because of their political, partisan, or ideological affiliations, leanings or preferences, as is the current practice in the United States. Most are appointed based on experience, skill, and knowledge of the law.
The United States has been hailed for its democratic traditions. And so, it should be. Its republican system has worked well. But that is partially because America’s political traditions have never been seriously tested within the USA. But wherever the United States exported its own brand of republicanism, it has suffered. Liberia, the Philippines, Cuba before Fidel Castro, and most recently, Iraq, are examples.
Donald Trump is the first United States president to seriously test the country’s republican political traditions, and its fault lines are showing. The system is far more susceptible to an autocrat than previously assumed. If unheedful of longstanding republican traditions and principles, the all-powerful president can do far more damage over a short period, way quicker than the head of government or head of state in a parliamentary democracy can.
The United States is likely to recover from Donald Trump. But he has exposed the fragility of American republicanism.
Eron Henry is author of Constitutionally Religious: What the Constitutions of 180 Countries Say About Religion and Belief and the novel, Reverend Mother.