What al-Qaeda Can Bring to the Party
Andrea G
Moisés Naím / Financial Times
What does al-Qaeda have in common with Amnesty International and Greenpeace? All three are loose networks of individuals united by a shared passion for a single cause, and, thanks to cheaper communication and transport, each can project its influence globally. Their funding comes from small contributions made by thousands of sympathisers and from large sums given by a few big donors. Their effectiveness derives from the single-minded devotion of their idealistic activists.
The difference, of course, is that while al-Qaeda's suicidal terrorists want to bring western civilization down, the members of Amnesty, Greenpeace and other such non-governmental organisations want to make it better. Most, in fact, do.
By any reckoning, the 1990s were a good decade for NGOs. The rise of these nimble organisations has - with the exception of the al-Qaedas of this world - been a generally positive development. But it also highlights a troubling decline in the fortunes of political parties. Indeed, the weakening of broad-based parties that aggregate disparate interests at the national level and that help stabilise domestic politics is unfortunate.
Moreover, at a time when countries are periodically destabilised by foreign shocks, from financial crashes to terrorism, the domestic volatility that usually coexists with a weak party system is even more troubling. Fittingly, the best way for political parties to recover their lost vigour may be by emulating some of the practices that have made NGOs such a success.
During the 1990s, angry voters, from Germany to Peru, threw out long-dominant political parties. Why? Because the 1990s were bad for ideological politics and good for political corruption.
The end of the cold war blurred the ideological lines that gave many parties their identity. As electoral platforms became indistinguishable, candidate personalities became the main, and often the only, differentiating factor. To win elections, political parties relied less on the popular appeal of their ideals and ideas and more on marketing techniques and the telegenic prowess of candidates.
Meanwhile, freer media and more independent parliaments and judiciaries ensured that corrupt practices once carefully hidden or silently tolerated became clearly visible and obviously criminal. Political parties that could no longer distinguish themselves ideologically from their opponents increasingly relied on scandals to define rivals in the minds of voters. It is impossible to know if corruption actually increased in the past decade, but it certainly was more exposed than ever. Remember Helmut Kohl? Giulio Andreotti? Noboru Takeshita? Carlos Salinas de Gortari?
While parties struggled, pressure groups thrived. As the ties between political parties and their electorates weakened, those between NGOs and their supporters became tighter. As the public standing of politicians and political parties continued its secular decline, the prestige and influence of NGOs grew. As NGOs pursued their single issues with monomaniacal zeal, political parties chased a multitude of different goals and seemed monomaniacal only in their pursuit of campaign contributions.
Political parties are expected to have positions on all aspects of national and international affairs, a situation that often forces them to defend somewhat contradictory policies - strong defence, generous social security and fiscal restraint, for example. A broad agenda is also a fertile ground for political compromises that further blur a party's identity and values.
In countries where political parties remained banned or stifled, NGOs became the only channel of political participation - the case in much of the Middle East. In most other countries, NGOs grew rapidly because they were less tainted by corruption, often belonged to a larger international network and generally had clearer ideals, a less hierarchical structure and a closer relationship with their members.
NGOs also had the advantage of having a clear mission. Whether dedicated to the protection of human rights, the environment or the control of population growth, members rarely lost sight of what their organisations stood for. All these factors led new cohorts of activists, who in the past would have gravitated towards political parties, towards NGOs instead.
The growth of NGOs is, on balance, a welcome trend. What is far less welcome, and indeed ought to be reversed, is the erosion in the public standing of political parties, which in many countries - Italy, Russia, Venezuela - has led to their virtual disappearance and replacement with ad hoc electoral machines. Strong, broad-based and well-institutionalised political parties that address a multitude of issues, aggregate competing interests and provide organised channels of political participation are indispensable. Without them, unbridled pragmatism and social Balkanisation ensue, aggravating the instability of domestic politics, economics, public policy and institutions.
Breaking the addiction of political parties to the money of big business and special interests is the obvious precondition to making them stronger. Big money from strong groups reduces the parties' autonomy, transparency and accountability and weakens them. Reliance on such contributions undermines the resolve of parties to create and sustain the kind of close connections that successful NGOs have with their grass-roots members.
Political parties must also be willing to adapt their structures and methods to a more networked world. While the war-room tactics of rapid response, message discipline and spin control may serve to win over pundits, they do not do much for the grass roots. Just as relatively flat, non-hierarchical structures with more independent cells have helped NGOs, so they might also help political parties reach new members and advance their agendas.
Of course, political parties will never be the same as NGOs. They cannot blindly copy such tactics and approaches, but they may be able to learn something from NGOs - perhaps even from al-Qaeda.