Democracy and the Honduran Coup

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

Finding an end point to a dialogue on democracy is as complex as finding the beginning, much akin to the storied Caucus Race of Alice in Wonderland. Since the completion of the Grasping at  Democracy series a few weeks ago, two very interesting plays in global democracy have begun to unfold. The case of Iran has garnered much international attention and even more international speculation. Where this case may lead will most certainly captivate the minds of untold millions of global citizens and, more importantly, the minds of the almost 66 million citizens of Iran. Much less discussed has been the most interesting and very complicated story of the Honduran coup, which took place quietly during the early morning of June 28, 2009, and sent the president packing to Costa Rica.

As with the other case studies on democracy, I find the roots of history to be vital to a meaningful understanding of any country, people or political circumstance. Much like Chile, Honduras was born out of the designs of the Spanish Empire and found its independence under similar circumstances, first as part of the Federal Republic of Central America in 1821 and then as a singularly independent country in 1840.  The second half of the 19th century through World War II leaves Honduran history pockmarked with shifts from civilian, semi-democratic rule to military juntas.  Most notable during this period is the incessant U.S. intervention and insertion of American troops. During the period, known pejoratively in the U.S. as the “Banana Wars,” U.S. troops were sent in 1903, 1907, 1911, 1912, 1919, 1924 and 1925. As is evidenced by the dates, only World War I provided some respite from foreign intervention. These conflicts were rooted in trade of fruit, coffee, sugar and other commodities not only in Honduras, but in many other Central American countries as well. This policy could be derived from U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt’s notion of speaking softly but carrying a big stick.

Clearly destabilizing, these conflicts continued to lead to violent governmental swings between left and right, exacerbating the friction between classes in Honduras. Class in Honduras at this point, as in many countries, arguably today was rooted in land ownership and access. This resulted in the military dictatorship of General Tiburcio Carías Andino, which maintained ironic stability during the Great Depression but was finally overthrown in 1948. The period of 1948 through to 1979 the Honduran government was controlled primarily by military leaders and/or local landowners and strongmen. It was this process of foreign, most notably U.S. intervention, that bred a distinct distaste for political machinations north of the Rio Grande. It is important to note that many of these conflicts came to a final head in Honduras’ neighbor Guatemala with the U.S.-instigated coup d’etat in 1954 against the democratically elected leader of President Jacobo Arbenz. This was done for primarily economic reasons, but was couched very much in the Cold War context of the day.  It is without doubt that these neighboring events continued to inform the Honduran political psyche.

With the return of civilian rule in the early 1980’s and the institution of a new constitution, U.S. relations continued to warm with foreign military aid from the U.S. reaching into the hundreds of millions of dollars. This provided military stability at a time in which much of the rest of Central America, El Salvador, Nicaragua and Panama were engulfed in bloody civil conflicts. This stability also ensured democratic elections, but also nonaggressive reform, particularly much-needed land reform. Much of Honduran life remained status quo until the election of Jose Manuel Zelaya in 2005 with a relatively small margin of 4%. Highly popular with the common people of Honduras, Zelaya has been perceived to be much in the vein of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.  This is with particular note toward land reform, which is always a highly charged issue in developing-world democracies.

Much like Chavez, Zelaya attempted to promulgate a public referendum to allow for a constitutional convention, which would allow him to run for more than one term.  Seen as highly dangerous to the institution of the constitution, the more conservative legislature and judicial branches balked. These events all came to a head in late June with the attempted firing of the Gen. Romeo Vásquez Velásquez, who is the congressionally appointed head of the Honduran Armed Forces. After the attempted firing of the general by President Zelaya, the Supreme Court of Honduras required his reinstatement. When this was not done, the Honduran military, with the perceived nod from the legislative and judicial branches, moved in for a coup. President Zelaya was escorted along with his staff from the presidential palace in Tegucigalpa onto a place and out of the country on June 28.  Most recently, he has attempted to return from exile in Costa Rica and his plane was again turned away. While a new president of Honduras has been appointed, Zelaya refuses to concede his seat and this leaves the world with one of two Honduran presidents to recognize.

This set of complicated circumstances which have unfolded over the past few weeks has resulted in Zelaya appearing before the U.N. begging for continued recognition, as well as the expulsion of current non-Zelayan government from the Organization of American States (OAS). Additionally, it leaves the leaders of the world in a highly complicated position. On one hand, does the family of global democracies embrace a democratically elected president who may have been trying to undermine the rule of the constitution by public pressure, but who has been ousted and remains in exile? Or on the other hand, do they recognize a democratically elected congress and appointed judiciary who argue that they were protecting the constitution but promulgated a military coup and the removal of the President?  There is no immediate answer, but add into this the complex relationship that the U.S. has with all of Central and South America, as well as the wild card of everyone’s good, bad or ugly relationship with Venezuelan presidential powerhouse Hugo Chavez. Certainly the notion of contestation and participation, the very root of polyarchy and democracy is in jeopardy.

The question that the global community –– and, more importantly, the Honduran people –– must ask is: Which side jeopardizes democracy most? Those who would protect the constitution and remove a president by force, or those who would allow the president to sit even if it radically changed the nature of the government of Honduras?

I shall editorialize to a higher degree at this point and hope most fervently that whichever side is selected in this slow burning conflict that it is the people of Honduras that are allowed to make the final choice. A democracy at the point of anyone’s bayonet is rarely a long-lasting institution.

• Related link: News for June 30  |  Xenia News & Analysis
• Related link: Class and Coups Edition  |  Xenia News & Analysis

Grasping at Democracy | Conclusion

In this series, C.J. Hobson has examined the Western  understanding of democracy and the different ways obervers might know it when they see it. Democracy, Hobson said, wears different faces, and that by changing the way democracy is understood, its emergence might be seen in unexpected places. After examining the complex evolution of the United States’ democratic system and introducing two theories of democracy applicable to the systems found in other nations, Hobson took a look at how Turkey, Ethiopia Russia and Chile have struggled to grasp, implement and maintain their own versions of democracy.

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

“The death of democracy is not likely to be an assassination from ambush. It will be a slow extinction from apathy, indifference, and undernourishment.”
–– Robert Maynard Hutchins

While seemingly very dark, the above quote hits to the core of the primary theme intended in this article series on democracy and democratization: participation.  Participation is also thoroughly guaranteed in the longue durée through real and meaningful contestation to use terms created by Robert Dahl and outlined in this series’ first article. I would argue that these two forces of democracy and democratization become mutually fulfilling. Where this process starts and ends seems to remain as elusive as the semi-scientific puzzle regarding the chicken and the egg.

Perhaps this starting point is less important being that it might indicate each state and people are on their own paths. Just this very week, the world has been made witness to a fitful exercise in mass participation and questions about genuine contestation in the recent elections for the president of Iran.  If these case studies are to prove anything, it will confirm that the Iranian path is as unique and varied as is everyone else’s. Perhaps I will return to you with future comments about this case study as events develop and evolve, but most assuredly we are watching a democratic exercise in Iran — one way or another.

More to the point, through the course of these articles I have introduced you to only four case studies among the almost 200 independent and internationally recognized states on the globe. It is my hope that the very nature of democracy with its undulations, ebbs and flows and, most importantly, with its highly particularistic nature that has been evidenced in these case studies. However, while it is unarguable that the experiences of Turkey, Russia, Ethiopia and Chile are vastly different in many ways, what can be displayed is the inherent struggle for a constantly improving system of government that strives for more democratic ideals. There are times where each extreme of the human condition –– glory and misery –– have been found in democratic exercise.  This gamble does not excuse each of us however. Critical to each of these two ends is the state. To quote the academic Christopher Pierson in his recent text Beyond the Welfare State:

No one who reflects for a moment on the history of the twentieth century can write of the benevolent power of the state.

While this point hints at the horrors of Stalin, Hilter, Pol Pot and Mao, it is undeniable that we are people who must organize in order to survive. To do this, we must in some way formulate a state, and it is only through the most authentically and organically organized version of this state that we will witness governments that walk with the blessings of their own citizens –– the mandate of their own people. It is this most genuine mandate that each nation should normatively seek.

While the process of democracy and democratization is undeniably messy and at times deeply painful, few of us can offer options to people aside from this process that are palatable. This process not only brings about the respect of their own citizens, but additionally brings a state into a family of global democracies, loosely based on mutually recognizable notions of human rights, dignity and justice. As global notions of these rights become increasingly uniform, it is my genuine hope to see an increase in global pressures towards democratization, while maintaining the vital space for states to explore this process under their own direction.

The opening quote of this segment indicates that it is incumbent upon each of us as members of a society to continue to engage and press for the evolutions of our democratic identities through this messiness. It should be evident from these articles that these identities are indeed, fluid and alive. The exercise, evolution and growth of these identities take place on a massive scale, but through individual action. Each increase in individual participation moves all of our respective societies towards meaningful contestations and perceived human goals of peace, access to rights and a brighter future for those of us to come.

Grasping at Democracy | Chile: Democratic Restoration

In this series, C.J. Hobson examines our understanding of democracy and the different ways we might know it when we see it. Democracy, Hobson points out, wears different faces, and that by changing the way we consider democracy, we might spot its emergence in unexpected places. After examining the complex evolution of the United States’ democratic system and introducing two theories of democracy applicable to the systems found in other nations, Hobson took a look at how Turkey, Ethiopia and Russia’s have struggled toward democracy — and perhaps in Russia’s case, toward nondemocracy.

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

“Democracy forever teases us with the contrast between its ideals and its realities, between its’ heroic possibilities and its sorry achievements.”
–– Agnes Repplier

Few democratic journeys of modern states can duplicate the experiences of the citizens of the Republic of Chile. Many might stereotype the history of most governments in South America as a long litany of dictatorships, military juntas and civil unrest. As with most stereotypes there are pieces of truth to them, but they are always far from universally applicable.

One of the countries in South America that both exemplifies and dispels this stereotype is Chile. Having represented one of the strongest democratic traditions in Latin America, Chile spun into the darkness of totalitarianism for almost two decades before emerging again as a beacon of democracy along with so many other nations in the early 1990s in this “third wave” of democratization. Having resurfaced from the oppression of dictatorship, how does a nation then sew back together their society enough to have a functioning democracy? How can you have enough people engage in government participation in such a divided society for a government to have legitimacy?  It is this journey that we will explore in this case study.

Born out of the imperial designs of Spain, Chile — like the rest of the rest of Central and South America — found its freedom as a result of both domestic freedom movements as well as the tossing-out of the Spanish monarchy by Napoleon in the early 19th century. With the military might of Spain long passed and what little Spanish forces existed being occupied by European affairs, South American independence was comparatively easily gained. This is not to detract from the various freedom fighters that existed in several areas of South America during this period, the most well-known of which is the famous Simon Bolivar. Bolivar is still emblematic for many of South American political identity and is often claimed by both the left and the right. Chile’s lesser known version of Bolivar is the military and statesman Bernardo O’Higgins who advocated for many years for Chilean home rule. It was from this system that Chile found its’ independence and set about their path in forming a “more perfect union.”

Early independence for Chile came at the dawn of the 19th century and for the next 100 years was a relatively calm exercise in increasingly democratic identity as was seen in the United States during this period. The governments swung from more progressive to more conservative regimes, but rested more or less in the hands of semi-democratic citizens of Chile. In 1925 a new presidential era was founded with reformers such as Arturo Alessandri Palma being elected. It was this system that functioned as a meaningful democracy until the fateful year of 1973.

In 1970 the academic and physician Salvador Allende was elected president of the government. Allende was many things to the citizens of Chile — one of these was a self-identified Marxist — the first democratically elected Marxist head of state in the western hemisphere. Given that this election was held in an era of global consciousness centered on the Cold War, the election of Allende was hailed by many and scored by others. His government was to last until 1973 when a military-led coup resulted in the complete overthrow of this decades long tradition of democracy. It is claimed by many that Allende, who died in the attack on the presidential palace during the coup, was found dead while clutching a copy of the Chilean constitution. It is additionally claimed that the Nixon government and the CIA, along with other elements within the United States, was intricately involved in this overthrow. Beyond the scope of this article, I strongly suggest that interested readers continue research on this case, as it provides great insight into just one of many reasons why U.S./Latin American relations remain tense.

The resulting regime was led by General Augusto Pinochet and was known for oppression and right-wing purges over the next 16 years. One particularly painful story is the tale of the folk singer and guitarist, Victor Jara. Jara was a much-loved figure in Chilean society, whose music was very much associated with the left and Allende’s government. In the early days of the military coup, Jara along with thousands of other citizens of Chile perceived to be threats to the military government were taken by agents of Pinochet to the city of Santiago’s soccer stadium. There many of them were publicly tortured and executed in the very place build to celebrate sports. Jara himself had his very talented fingers broken one by one so that he could never play again. He raised his voice in song and was murdered. It was only after the downfall of global communism in the latter part of the 1980’s that the Pinochet regime stepped down and democratic elections were allowed to resume.

I tell you this painful story of Chilean democracy to offer some observations as well as beg several questions. My first observation is that even through the nearly 150 years of growing democracy, the fragility of democracy is all too abundant in this story. My question remains, how does a society who has endured such a painful loss of democratic identity and then witnessed one segment of society endure such oppression and the hands of another group of their own people ever re-cooperate?  How are you able to develop a society where all participate, where polyarchy can ever exist again?

It is for the reason that I will shortly address that I have saved Chile for the final case study. The great surprise of Chile is that they were able to rapidly re-establish a democratic government and surpass many of the dark days of the 1970’s and ‘80’s.  The process by which a society can do this is amazing and most assuredly very unique, but examples such as Spain, South Africa and Germany also come to mind, dealings with many of the post-conflict traumas and tragedies found in the Chilean case study. This leaves this case study with the bright light of hope to shine on the many war-torn and nondemocratic societies across the globe.

The exercise of democracy is never conducted in one finite moment; it is a culmination of a thousand and one tiny moments — at times with long pauses in-between. Chile’s exercise in democracy was interrupted by the Pinochet regime, but was much more easily resurrected than thought possible. Chile today stands as a regional leader in human rights and liberal democratic reform. It is the very presidential seat once held by both Allende and Pinochet that welcomed the first democratically elected woman in Chilean history, whose own father — a general in the Chilean army — was brutally tortured by the Pinochet regime.

Grasping at Democracy | Russia: Democratic Slide

In this series, C.J. Hobson examines our understanding of democracy and the different ways we might know it when we see it. Democracy, Hobson points out, wears different faces, and that by changing the way we consider democracy, we might spot its emergence in unexpected places. After examining the complex evolution of the United States’ democratic system and introducing two theories of democracy applicable to the systems found in other nations, Hobson took a look at Turkey and its militaristic past and civic strife in the present, and  Ethiopia’s historic battles against colonialism and its nascent steps toward democracy.

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

“Without general elections, without unrestricted freedom of press and assembly, without a free struggle of opinion, life dies out in every public institution, becomes a mere semblance of life, in which only the bureaucracy remains as the active element.”  — Rosa Luxemburg

Russia presents one of the most complicated and significant case studies in this series. The historic — both in the longue durée as well as more recently –  relationship that the Russian government in its various forms has had with its citizens has been problematic at best and mostly autocratic. I am not a Russianist by study or training, but find the various political paths that Russia has taken over the past 150 years to hold as much global significance as what happened in Independence Hall in Philadelphia or in the Tuileries Palace in Paris during the late 18th century. Russia’s size, resources and mindset have long since translated into global clout and will continue to do so for generations to come. It is for these reasons that the democratic future of Russia is vitally important to us all for decades to come.

The Tsarist system was rooted in absolutism. In fact, when expressing the full title of the tsar, he was known as “Tsar and Autocrat of all Russias.” He (or, in a few cases, she) was held by both religious and secular authorities to rule with the mandate of God and of his people as he and he alone saw fit.  Needless to say in any unreformed sense, the Tsarist system of Imperial Russia represented no contestation or participation of any kind and was one of the last remaining absolutist regimes in Europe. There were, however, some reform minded Tsars,

most notably Tsar Alexander II, whose rule in the mid-19th century marked the end of the system of serfdom in 1861. At this point, almost half of Russian citizens were bound to the land (and their landlords) in a feudal system of agriculture not much different from human slavery. This differs from the U.S. slavery system where only 12% of the U.S. population at the time of the U.S. Civil War were slaves.  This semi-enlightened Tsar’s life was cut short by an assassin’s bomb in 1881, and he died on a couch in front of the young eyes of Russia’s last Tsar, the future Nicholas II. While Nicholas’s father, Alexander III, was a conservative reactionary, Nicholas II seemed to demonstrate the understanding for some type of democratic reforms. Whether by political pressure at home or abroad, there were attempts at semi-independent parliaments in the early 20th century before World War I, with the relaxing of some regulations on the press and assembly. The vast bulk of the nondemocratic, Tsarist system lie entirely intact at the time of the revolution in 1917, and was only brought down by its inflexibility and inability to evolve, as well as the intense economic and social pressures of World War I.

Interestingly, there is a little known individual named Alexander Kerensky, who came to power through the Duma (parliament) as result of the overthrow of the Tsar.  While ruling as “prime minister” for only a few months in 1918 and really effecting little control over the vast territory of Russia, he is seen as liberal, democratic reformer. His weak democratic government would be swept aside in the most monumental political movement of the 20th century, the communist revolution.  This brief, Russian democratic moment is commemorated to this day by political scientists who refer to short lived and democratically minded governments around the globe that are washed away by authoritarianism as “Kerensky governments.” While brief, the prospect for Russian contestation and participation seemed plausible under Kerensky.

The great Soviet experiment that was to rule over the Russian (and many other) people for the next 73 years was unlike anything the world had ever witnessed.  This highly centralized system of government was entirely controlled by members of the Communist Party. Of course, it was the Communist Party that also strictly controlled new membership into that party. Leadership within the government was chosen/quasi-elected within the Communist Party structure. This very closed and circular nature of Soviet government immediately wipes away the prospect for contestation, which is rooted in openness and ability of all to join in fairly. The Dahlian principle of participation of the people of Russia within their government under the Soviet system seems a bit muddier. While there were few elections and certainly no noncommunist parties allowed, the participation in this element of government life is, of course, minimal. However, as the government was, in fact, daily life, no job or daily human function was escapable from the government, so in some ways the Soviet people were, in fact, participating in their government, albeit without the ability to effect change within that government.

The monumental, global shift that took place first in 1989 with the collapse of communism within Eastern Europe and then later the fall of the Soviet system itself has yet to be paralleled within recent human history.  Great hope for the spread of democracy was palpable around the world, and in fact many post-communist nations have rapidly evolved into internationally recognized democracies with both high contestation and participation, such as the Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland and the reunited Germany. The path of the Russian state and its citizens during this post-communist period has been certainly more problematic. As the Soviet Union broke apart and the now existent state of Russia appeared, the Russian economic and political institutions descended into chaos.  The ability of the proto-democratic government of Boris Yeltsin to effectively control these influences that had become Mafia-esque in nature were minimal.  The coercion being undertaken within the elections at this time can only be imagined and most certainly impacted Dalhian notions of contestation and participation.  It is important, however to recognize the vast human freedoms that were gained during this time with independent newspapers, radio and television stations appearing all over the country.  As problematic as they were, elections were being held for the first time ever and a level of economic and geographic freedom never seen under the Soviet system was being experienced.  Democracy or polyarchy seemed to be on the rise, if even imperfect.

The Russian financial crises of the late 20th century and the inability or lack of desire within the Yeltsin regime to control crime and the Mafia became increasingly worrying signs. The seemingly free and fair election of Vladimir Putin in 2000 and subsequent peaceful transfer of power were hailed around the world as a solidification of democracy in Russia. Whether it was fear or coercion, the Russian people had spoken democratically — there was a contest and they participated.  n the time since Putin’s election, there have been some serious signs of de-democratization. The curtailing of the freedom of press is one of the more disturbing signs. One of the more known (but far from the only) public assassinations is the death of Anna Politkovskaya, who was a strong democratic proponent and critic of the government. She was shot on her way home in October of 2006 and was known for her premiere text Putin’s Russia: Life in a Failing Democracy and her strong opposition to the two Chechen Wars.  Her story is difficult to tell; before her final assassination she had been poisoned on her way to report on the Beslan School massacre, though she survived, and she was subjected to mock executions during her arrest in Chechnya for reporting on the war. She is but only one of the dozens of journalists assassinated over the past 10 years. There are similar assassinations of lawyers and judges during time period, and the independence of the Russian judiciary seen as a critical element to democratic identity.

With the highly contentious election of President Dimitri Medvedev in the autumn of 2007 and the resurrection of Vladimir Putin to the primereship, a disturbing trend known as “the great shuffle” began to appear.  In the great shuffle, a ruling coalition merely trades ministries among a cabal of political leaders, often within the same party, and never fully leaves power. Putin’s United Russia Party seems to be fully entrenched with its power base in both the national as well as local governments. The ability of various opposition parties to effectively run for office and conduct the normal functions of a political party are becoming eroded month by month. Additionally, it is certainly questionable as to where the real power lies.  Putin was able to create a monumentally powerful presidency during his term and now seems to control much beyond the constitutionally apportioned prime ministership. On the other hand, Medvedev, a relative political novice to Putin, seems to be quite comfortable sharing the powers of his presidency with Putin.

These disturbing trends are not only problematic because they breach the division of powers outlined within the post-Soviet constitution, but additionally the sharing or hiding of power bases make the ability of the Russian people to point blame or praise correctly problematic.  If a voting population cannot effectively direct their emotions or intentions at the appropriate leader because it is unclear then they have an increasingly closed society.  The notion of an open society is very commonly connected to the idea of democratic freedom. Is it not this very notion of openness that allows for contestation and participation and democratic consolidation? Russia seems to have reached toward democratic reforms during the 1990’s and –– quite disturbingly –– seems to be eroding back to some very nondemocratic practices.  How many nondemocratic moments it takes to equal a nondemocracy, no one can say with authority, however it is a most disturbing trend.

Grasping at Democracy | Ethiopia: Democratic Infancy

In this series, C.J. Hobson asks: What is democracy? That is, how do we know it when we see it? Although many people point to elections or freedom as signs of democracy, Hobson points out that changing the way we consider democracy could point to its emergence in unexpected places. After examining the complex evolution of the United States’ democratic system and introducing two theories of democracy applicable to the systems found in other nations, Hobson took a look at Turkey and asked whether the nation’s militaristic past, and civic strife in the present may  point to limitations in Turkey’s democratic future.

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall — think of it, ALWAYS.
— Mohandas Ghandi

I know that few people know much about Ethiopia, and what they might know is more attached to human strife than to political developments. I would venture a guess that the Ethiopian famine of the mid-1980’s would be one of the few points of history that most Westerners would remember about one of the planet’s oldest continuous societies.   While undoubtedly a fascinating and rich case study to ancient historians, Ethiopia in the modern period has been blighted with struggle, war, invasion and hunger — not unlike much of modern African’s  history.

This all being said, the story of Ethiopia diverges dramatically from Africa’s historical path at several points.  This sets Ethiopia’s trajectory in a unique direction and leaves it both better empowered in some ways and strangely more crippled than many of its peer nations across Africa. The story of democracy in Ethiopia, however, is much like that of the rest of Africa: brief, intermittent and fragile, but vitally important.

I will contest, as with all case studies, that historical context is vitally important to an appropriate digestion of the democratic standing of any state, nation or combination. I would trace Ethiopia’s modern history back to the little-known Battle of Adwa in northern Ethiopia in 1896 between imperial Ethiopian forces and those of colonial Italy. This critical event is a point at which Ethiopia’s path is set apart from those of the rest of modern African nations.  In the course of this battle, rooted in Italy’s attempt at colonization, Ethiopian forces successfully defeated those of the aggressing Italians. This would be the very first time in which an African army defeated a modern, European force. Not only did this event save Ethiopia from formal colonization (only Ethiopia and Liberia remained uncolonized out of the 61 states that comprise modern Africa) this event is well known for its political and cultural significance to Ethiopians, African and to many political communities within the African Diaspora.  Both at the time of this battle and for centuries before, Ethiopia was ruled by the Solomonic Dynasty of “negus” or kings. The last king came to the throne in the early 20th century, and his policies shaped much of what impacts Ethiopia today.

Crowned Emperor Haile Selassie I in 1930, this last king ruled Ethiopia with a political grip and authority much akin to the last shah of Iran.  The imperial system in Ethiopia was one where the emperor ruled with divine right as accorded to him by the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which comprises approximately half of the population. Additionally, the ruling families over what is considered to be modern Ethiopia are also one of specific ethnic group, the Amhara.  It is important to note that Ethiopia was briefly invaded and occupied by fascist Italian forces in 1935 as an attempted redemption of the mortifying loss at Adwa 40 years before. During this time period, the looming prospect of World War II and then its eventual outbreak on the European continent prevented Italy from conducting any significant colonial intervention.  As a result, upon the fall of Italian Premier Benito Mussolini, Haile Selassi (and his imperial system of government) was allowed to return to full power with the blessings and support of the West.

This system of nondemocratic, quasi-religious authoritarianism, along with ethnic Amhara domination over the 10 or more other ethnic groups in Ethiopia, continued uninterrupted until the early 1970’s. Throughout 1973 and 1974, there was a significant famine. While less known than the famine of the 1980’s, which spawned the likes of the Live Aid famine relief concerts and such, some estimates indicate that more Ethiopian citizens died during the famine of the early 1970’s.  The once revered and now very aged, Emperor Haile Selassie and his imperial system, which held no room for contestation or participation, would be swept aside in an initially bloodless coup. A group of low ranking officers, calling themselves “the Derg,” that took control of the government in Ethiopia’s capital city of Addis Ababa in 1974 was headed by a young Col. Mengistu Haile Marriam.

Marxist in leaning, the Derg rhetorically sought to overthrow the privilege of the imperial system.  n the ensuring chaos of the revolution, the political purges and attempted at counter coups, the old emperor died; he was most likely murdered. The ill-guided attempts at land reform in the late 1970’s is one of the factors that led directly to the famines of 1984 and 1985, for which Ethiopia is most well-known. in the West

It can be safely assumed that neither the collapsed imperial system nor the despotic and chaotic Marxist Derg were interested in democratic reforms of any kind, which leaves Ethiopia with zero contestation or participation until very recently. Upon the collapse of the Soviet Union and its military and financial support for the Derg in 1991, the Derg, too, were swept aside. Replacing the Derg was a multiethnic band of freedom fighters led by a northerner, Meles Zenawi. As mentioned in the second article of this series, this was the time of the “Third Wave” of democratization. This band of fighters began for formulate a central government and for the first time created a federalized system of government, which allowed, among others, for the direct election of local governors.  Before this period, they had been entirely appointed by the central government and were almost exclusively Orthodox, ethnic Amharas.  Moves like these were seen as extremely positive and certainly in Dahl’s framework, ups the contestation and participation.

This is not to say that the story is over. During the 1990’s and well into the first decade of the 21st century, the slow burning conflict with Eritrea has existed.  Taking advantage of the chaos of the late Derg period in Ethiopia, the province of Eritrea broke away and declared its independence. Along with its independence, Eritrea also took from Ethiopia its only coastline and port city. First fought against by the Derg regime and then later the Meles government, this ugly conflict smacks of regional imperialism. As of now, Ethiopia recognizes Eritrean independence, but the conflict has ended in a stalemate with only the disputed location of the border remaining. This pride-filled and resource-wasting conflict does little to stabilize the quasi-democracy of the Meles government.

In early June 2005, one of the first major trials for the latest round of Ethiopian democratic development shocked the republic. Student protests and eventually full-scale riots broke out June 6 and 7, 2005, near the campus of Addis Ababa University in the country’s capital to protest the results one of Ethiopia’s few elections in its history. National police were brought in, and after escalated conflict, more than 100 people were arrested and an estimated 25 students were killed. The root of these riots was the supposedly fraudulent nature of the election results, which left the ruling coalition in power, that of Mr. Meles.  Though confined to Addis Ababa, the detention of political dissidents and certainly the deaths of students at the hands of national police stunned the Ethiopian public and brought about raised eyebrows from world leaders.  Opposition leaders eventually came to the table with Mr. Meles and have cobbled together a government for the time being.  Mr. Meles has been in various stages of power for almost 14 years now. Does this automatically reduce Ethiopia’s meager status at political contestation?  Does his long tenure bring stability so that democracy can take root or does it erode the necessary change in head of state?

Ethnic conflict seems to remain just under the surface in modern Ethiopia.  Long a fighter for the rights and freedoms of the northern Tigray region, Meles’s United Nations-observed and approved re-election in June 2005 seemed to have proved too much for the Amhara heavy student population at Addis Ababa University.  From the Amharic perspective, Prime Minister Meles fought against the central government for decades, only to control and manipulate it when he was elected prime minister. It was Prime Minister Meles who called out the national police on the mostly unarmed students. This point is being balanced with the fact that Meles has led the only quasi-democratic moments in the long fabric of Ethiopia’s history.

Can democratic ideals be held by people who use nondemocratic tools?  Are there certain socioeconomic/cultural dynamics that can exist where fully fleshed out democracy would not bring high levels of contestation and participation, but instead chaos and a return to dictatorship? While I do not have answers for these questions, it is important to digest exactly where Ethiopia is in context to where it has been.  The bud of democracy weighted down with this history will be certainly slow to grow.

Grasping at Democracy | Turkey: Democratic Manipulation

In this series, C.J. Hobson asks: What is democracy? That is, how do we know it when we see it? Although many people point to elections or freedom as signs of democracy, Hobson points out that dialogic ways of considering democracy point to its emergence in unexpected places. Last week, Hobson examined the complex evolution of the United States’ democratic system, and introduced two theories of democracy applicable to the systems found in other nations.

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

Of all tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.
– C.S. Lewis

The story of democratic identity in Turkey is highly complicated, not only by the actualities of its own history, but by the ways in which Turkey is viewed by those in the West (and by many of its own citizens). As with each of the case studies, I will undertake a small review of the history of each state. While the story of a nation’s history is not conclusively deterministic, I do feel strongly that much of the past plays a very strong role in the present.

Turkey and the region it occupies has often been a mystery to many people with Western European backgrounds. Despite the fact that the days of sultan are long gone and Turkey is a modern, emerging nation, confusion and ignorance abound as to what it is and what it represents. The Republic of Turkey was born from the ashes of the authoritarian, imperial Ottoman system, the First World War, a subsequent invasion of European powers and protracted territorial war with Greece, Italy, France and Britain.  Turkey emerged as an independent nation in 1923 as a product of the Treaty of Lausanne.

As with many nations during the early 20th century, vast changes in the global community of states and ways in which these states function (or are expected to function) created massive pressure on traditional societies. Global traditional societies of this period often succumbed to the imperial desires of Western European powers, either directly as in all of Africa and South Asia or indirectly as in imperial China and Persia. The chaos of the post-Ottoman period and the disastrous Treaty of Sevres in 1920 could have led to this same result for Turkey, barring national will and the charisma of a single person.

For many Turks, the physical embodiment of this salvation is the founding father and first president of the republic Mustafa Kemal or Ataturk.  He and his generals chose to take this republic into a distinctly new direction, one that was decidedly westward looking.  As many of you know, Ataturk undertook a deep social revolution within the new Turkey, attempting to reform society from its top to its base. The Arabic script was abandoned (forcibly), the fez and hijab forbidden, the Gregorian calendar adopted, and a deep, severe line was drawn between traditional Islamic institutions and the new state.  This is not to mention the “Turkification” of the nation where millions of people living in Turkey were swapped with the Greek government and the Islamic call to prayer changed from Arabic to Turkish.  While some of these “reforms” have been relaxed, it is important to note that most of these were enacted by virtual fiat or with rubber-stamping from the newly created parliament.

I mention the previous only because Ataturk and his successors, known as Kemalists (after his surname), are viewed — particularly by many in the West and a sizable segment of the Turkish population — as positive, democratic reformers. I leave the assessment of his specific merits to those readers who chose to research more and formulate their own opinion on the individual. For the purposes of this article, the first question that arrives at my mind is: Can a democratic society be formulated out of inherently nondemocratic policy choices? Made by nondemocratic leaders?  There is no right answer to this question, but I would pose to the reader the following: If a society has elements that are rooted in nondemocratic identity, is there ever a justification for their use in supporting some vision of democracy?  In this case I mean the military.

Additionally, the electoral history of the Republic of Turkey throughout the fifty years after its establishment has had very mixed results for democratic identity.  The first period, 1923 to 1946, was known as a single-party period, where Turkish politics were only discussed in the framework of Ataturk’s party. From 1946 to the present, additional political parties were allowed; however this period’s democratic identity has been marred by three military driven coups d’etat (1960, 1971 and 1980). Without delving too deeply, the roots of each of these coups can arguably be traced to social movements and the resulting political party development (and elections) that appeared to be in contrast to the strictly secular, pro-Western vision of Ataturk. In each of these cases, civilian rule was restored within two years; however, there remained an underlying cognizance among the Turkish political class that veering too far away from the military’s view of what Turkey should be could have very disastrous results.

Many supporting the general’s views would argue that the Ataturk himself would support these tactics in maintaining a democratic national vision. Most recently, the development of mildly Islamic politic identity has causes a furor among many in Turkey. There is the case in point of the aborted coup or “soft coup” that took place in the 1990’s where a mildly Islamist prime minister was democratically elected and — in many eyes — forced out of office. Even as recently as the election of President Abdullah Gül in 2007 there have been issues of peaceful transition of power. Gül is of a similar political bend to some of leaders in the past who have strayed too far from the military’s and its supporter’s views.  While he was able to take office, it was only after a series of massive demonstrations, threats of military action and a potential return to the days of the coups. Issues such as the ability to wear the veil on state properties including universities, government offices and even state functions and dinners can be argued to fly in the face of democratic expression.

In addition to this entire list of internal Turkish political happenings, I have not discussed the impacts on Turkish democracy that the international events of this time period have had. Two key, lingering wounds in Turkish democracy have been the issue of the division and stalemate of the conflict in Cyprus and the undulating struggle for ownership of the area known to some as Kurdistan.  Without lingering too long on either of these two conflicts, each are known to many inside and outside of Turkey as “winner-less” battles.  The Cyprus conflict can be argued by some as an example of where quasi-democratic Turkey has sometimes actively sometimes passively ignored or undermined overt U.N. resolutions.  If these are voting members of a supra-national body, of which Turkey is a member, does this not undermine Turkish democratic identity abroad?  With respect to the low-grade conflict in southeastern Turkey with ethnic Kurds, this is even more complex.  In many Turks’ minds, this conflict is about nongovernmental, terrorist forces striking at the heart of the Turkish government, which is merely protecting itself and its law-abiding citizens.  To others, this conflict is about “Freedom fighting” and the desire for ethnic-Kurds to establish a sovereign homeland.

The reality is most likely somewhere between the two, but my question to the readers is: Can a state engaged in a low-grade, long-term civil war –- a war among some of its own citizens –- ever be fully fleshed out as a democracy until that is over?

Given this very brief review of modern Turkish history, I ask you to refer to the theoretical outline offered in the initial articles and apply their premises to this string of events. As a demonstration of political, religious and social identity, does not the potential outlawing (either perceived or real) of mildly religious political parties and the inability to wear religious apparel erode Turkey’s identity on Dahl’s scale of democracy discussed in the last week’s article?  Does the military seem to suggest that they want democracy –- only within a strict and guided format?  Does this erode both Dahl’s view of contestation and participation?  Does the Kurdish issue deeply undermine Dahl’s grasp of participation, being that Kurds are unlikely to participate in large numbers in a government with which they do not identify?  With respect to Huntington’s waves of democracy, perhaps what is seen is a state that seems to live in a grey-zone of quasi-democracy – controlled or manipulated democracy – never fully becoming totalitarian, but never fully being democratic?

Next week: Ethiopia: Democratic Infancy

Grasping at Democracy: The U.S.

Editor’s note: Last week C.J. Hobson asked the question: What is democracy? That is, how do we know it when we see it? While many people may point to elections or freedom as signs of democracy, Hobson asked readers to begin thinking about democracy in a more dialogic way, so that they might “discover that democracy might be found in the most unsuspecting places — or lacking in the most expected ones.”

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

“We preach the virtues of democracy abroad. We must practice its duties here at home. Voting is the first duty of democracy.”
– President Lyndon B. Johnson

The United States is often cited as one of the birthplaces of democratic experimentation. Certainly, the U.S. hasn’t “cornered the market” on democracy; examples of democratic paraphernalia can be found littering history from ancient Greek states to the English Bill of Rights in the 17th century. However, since I am both a passport-carrying U.S. citizen and assume that many of the readers of this article series are at least mildly familiar with the U.S. experience in democracy, I start my dialogue here. This recognizable tale will offer an introduction to some theoretical concepts on democracy.

Fact and fiction about U.S. democracy are vast and often intertwined. However, understanding the human need for categories, I’ll present this superficially simple line of thought:

Formally, the United States is said to have turned the democratic page in history with its fight again the British Crown on the fields of Concord and Lexington. This struggle culminated with the Battle of Yorktown, then independence and — after some experimentation with the Articles of Confederation — the subsequent Constitutional Convention of 1789. With the trappings (and by this, I mean regulated voting) of democracy engaged in 1789, are we to formally place the United States within the democratic camp at that time? (The “vote” this makes the US a fait accompli, correct?) This being despite the fact that only landowning white males had the right to vote? Or does democracy come with universal white male suffrage (1812-1860)? Universal white suffrage without respect to gender (1920)? Universal white suffrage without respect to economic class (poll tax) (1964)? Universal suffrage but minimal participation of large segments of racial minorities (1965)? Or universal suffrage and high levels of participation by traditionally nonparticipatory citizens (2008)?

You see why it’s so hard to grasp at democracy’s definition. And this is only on the single subject of voting history in the United States.

Many readers’ responses to these questions would be to state that the U.S. — when placed in context with the rest of the world in 1789 — was a democracy, despite the fact that only a sliver of the population exercised the right to vote. Many of these same thinking readers would equally defend the fact that the United States has evolved into an increasingly democratic society throughout time as well — a more perfect union, if you will. Using this line of thought, then, democracy seems to not hold eternal and singular definitions; we are allowed to hold it in context to time and location. But can it also be held in context to culture? This very tricky concept is something we will explore more in the future case studies. It appears to be a continuum or prism through which a nation-state, exists more than a box within which they either reside or do not.

While many would have no problems with this notion (at least, for a case study about the United State), it does pose interesting questions when debating democratic standing on a global scale. Is it possible that we might not fully recognize a democracy in a very different cultural context from Western European identity? Must a democracy adhere to Western European democratic governmental institutions, i.e. legislative bodies, poll, parties, and judicial branches? A more important question: Are there some basic philosophical truths to a democracy that must exist underlying differing modes of practice? It is here where we will find this article’s line of thought:away from a focus on democratic institutions and focus more on what a democracy actually does.

My training has been primarily within political science and international relations. As a result — and please forgive me — I will rely on political scientists for theoretical background, though I know that much valuable work has been done on democracy within many other fields, including psychology, sociology, anthropology and even linguistics. The work of Yale professor Dr. Robert Dahl is often cited as a base from which to begin grasping at the difficulties of democratic identity. These difficulties are so charged that Dahl has even released himself from the semantics of the very word “democracy” and embraced the word “polyarchy,” the root of which, of course, is “the rule by many”(1).

Dahl’s work stems from the 1950’s and has been expanded, slimmed, buried and revived, yet it still remains a vital element of democratic dialogue. In an attempt to loose his readers from the vestments of democracy (that is, voting, elections, human freedoms, parties and government structure) Dahl debrides it to two basic ideas: participation and contestation. Dahl grasps at these two ideas by stating:

Polyarchy is a political order distinguished at the most general level by two broad characteristics: Citizenship is extended to a relatively high proportion of adults, and the right of citizenship include the opportunity to oppose or vote out the highest officials in the government.(2)

Dahl further defines these two axes through the necessity of the following elements: elected officials, free and fair elections, inclusive suffrage, rights to run for office, freedom of expression, alternative information and associational autonomy.

Using an X-Y axis, he essentially asks questions about these concepts, although, as one can surmise, there are infinite ways in which to parse these ideas, which can lead to endless “rabbit holes” of definitions. Based in simple concepts, the notions of participation and contestation  provide us with a basis from which to tackle this very difficult concept. You can also see that Dahl’s work adheres to a discussion on polyarchy (democracy) within some society or government, not individuals and social classes. As you can see from the chart below, the more participation and contestation a nation has, the more polyarchic (democratic) it is.

Click here to view Chart 1.

While Dahl’s work on the democratic continuum does not provide us everything we need to view these case studies, his general concept around participation and contestation may allow us to see democracy working where we might least expect it. We can do this by asking questions about these listed concepts in a nation and attempting to build walls around the idea of democracy. Additionally, Dahl’s concept may allow us to see through the veil of democratic institutions in some nations to uncover their inherently undemocratic roots.

These articles are not meant to expose non-democracies, nor to apologize for nations left out from the table of democratic states. They are meant to show that the journey of a nation’s democratic identity is very much a human journey. As individuals consistently seek to evolve and explore their own identities on a journey of expansion, exploration and authenticity, so, too, do nations of people. If we allow space for people to determine their own highly individual identities and destinies as community members, why, then, would the journey of national democratic identity be any less individual and unique?

Dahl gives us a conceptualization of the more liberal idea of democracy as a continuum and contextual to ideas and time. The next idea is that there are certainly some basic lines of governmental conduct that at any given time in history would allow for the division of the world into the “democratic” and “non-democratic.” Without empirical testing, it is obvious to most that a simple glance at the 20th century would show us a democratizing trend across the globe. There are more democracies — however one defines it — now than there were in 1980, 1940, or 1900. One theorist introduced this idea through his work on “democratic waves” –- Samuel Huntington.

In his work, “The Third Wave; Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century,” huntington seems to uncover an ebb and flow in global democratic trends starting with the late 18th century and continuing to the collapse of the Soviet Bloc in the late 20th century.(3) Huntington finds the first wave of democratization in the late 18th through the mid-19th centuries and includes the United States, France and Britain, among others, in this wave. The second wave includes those after World War II and includes Italy, Japan, Germany, among many others. The third wave is found starting with the collapse of the dictatorships in Spain and Greece in the mid-1970s and continuing to the collapse of the Soviet Bloc and democratization of Eastern Europe.

While each of these democratic waves moved some nations into the fully democratic camp, there were other nations that experimented with democracy and then reverted back to the non-democratic camp. Nations such as Chile, Haiti, Bolivia, Brazil, Argentina and a whole host of postcolonial states made one or several crosses into and away from democracy throughout this time period. This idea of Huntington’s demonstrates that while Dahl’s contestation and participation are contexts for democratic identity, there were distinct waves of new and old democratic regimes around the world.

Placing Huntington’s waves over Dahl’s axes gives us a way to visually grasp at global democratic movements and actually see democratization in progress.

Click here to view Chart 2.

Certainly, these two theories only touch the very tip of the mountain of research conducted on democratic regimes, but I find them quite applicable as a basis. In order to assess global democratization trends among regimes that may differ dramatically in historical paths and future plans, some type of universal grasp is needed. While reading the case studies and subsequent discussions that I hope will ensue, please keep some of these frameworks in mind. Instead of focusing on how many chambers in the parliament or the effectiveness of a federal versus centralized governmental system, think more along these lines:

• Are the qualities of high contestation and participation being met?
• As the waves of democratization have pulled more and more states into the family of democratic regimes, is there not a greater pressure for higher and higher levels of Dahl’s contestation and participation?

This means that levels of contestation and participation that were considered democratic in the early 19th, or even mid-20th centuries, might not be considered so at the dawn of the 21st. Bearing each of these in mind, I anticipate lively dialogue on this universally important and highly misunderstood concept — democracy.

Next week: Turkey: Democratic Manipulation

1 Dahl, Robert. “Democracy and its Critics”. Yale University Press, 1989.
2 Dahl, “Democracy and its Critics,” page 220.
3 Huntington, Samuel. “The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century.” University of Oklahoma Press. 1993.

Picture: Delegates at the Constitutional Convention in 1787 prepare to sign the U.S. Constitution. credit: “Scene at the Signing of the Constitution of the United States” by artist Howard Chandler Christy. Courtesy of www.senate.gov.

Grasping at Democracy: A Xenia Focus

Grasping at Democracy: A Global Series

By C. J. Hobson,
Ph.D candidate
University of Oklahoma

“We are not afraid to entrust the American people with unpleasant facts, foreign ideas, alien philosophies and competitive values. For a nation that is afraid to let its people judge the truth and falsehood in an open market is a nation that is afraid of its people.”
– President John F. Kennedy

Kennedy’s insightful image –  “a nation afraid of its people” — creates very specific visions in my head. Militarized police, jails filled with political prisoners and manipulation of the masses by state-controlled media are among some. In its worst form, we might even conjure memories of regimes like Nazi Germany or Stalin’s USSR.  We find solace in the thought that the United States does not behave in such ways because we are a democracy.

This, undoubtedly, is a very powerful concept. However, I would wager that few people think much about what is really meant or captured by this term. It is easy to talk about topics such as democracy, human rights — or even something more specific like universal education — as inherently “good” things. Not many people would overtly oppose the normatively positive role that each of these plays in the lives of millions in both the Western and non-Western worlds. Inspiring debates on these topics roll through media, parliaments and houses of worship, not to mention offices, cafes and street corners around the globe.

However, what’s missing is a universally accepted definition. Democracy is more often discussed in terms of who or what regime is practicing democracy, who was and is no longer a democracy, and who is not and why. Given the inherent human need to categorize, this sort of discussion seems to be more about political gossip than about reflection on what the idea of democracy really means.

Beyond the “feel good” side of democracy, why is a thoughtful exploration of its meaning important? First, it’s certain that citizens in general find democracy’s normative importance in how it’s translated into political action. We vote for certain people because they seem more democratic to us. This can translate at the national level, where a nation’s democratic or perceived democratic standing may have serious implications for foreign aid and assistance.

Ironically, democracy can even drive the machines of war and lead — at least partially — to military intervention.  There is a theoretical basis for much of this:  the premise of the Global Democratic Peace Theory. This theory, or bundle of theories, has been tossed around by dozens of academics, particularly in the post World War II era. This theory , in short, states that democracy brings security on both individual and national levels. It contends that the spread of democracy is vital to world peace, since there are arguably few — if any — instances when one democratic regime has waged war against another. This simply means: More democracy = less war. Using this vein of thought, countless political actions after WWII were predicated upon spreading democracy, supporting democracy and fighting the foes of democracy – in Iraq, Vietnam, Panama, Haiti, Grenada, Iran, Poland, and on and on.

Out of this history comes the question that I’m examining: If “it” — i.e., democracy — is so important, do we always know “it” when we see “it”?

What would happen if you were to ask a random person these questions: “Is it democratic to arrest and imprison a journalist who wrote an editorial expressing his/her view on a topic?” or “Can a nation be democratic and not have free and fair elections for 10, 15 or even 20 years?” Many would respond with a resounding and clear  “No!” However, the challenge, “Please define democracy” might bring a broad set of answers, especially if you were attempting this survey on a global scale. We often must resort to a democratic regime’s mechanics to attempt to describe it with more than just a standalone definition.

We might claim: “Elections!” Yes, but how many and often, and must there be some kind of party change? Or we might state: “Freedom! ” Yes, but exactly what kind and how much, and who is the arbiter of that freedom? Or perhaps the seemingly base element of democracy: “Voting!” Yes, but who gets to vote and how often, and what happens if certain groups do not vote and why? We might even go with “Power to the People!” Yes, but we certainly don’t mean majority rule at the expense of a minority or baseless mob rule.

You follow my train of thought; we grasp at this idea by talking about its effects or impacts, but less about what it is.

My goal in this series is simple. I’m seeking to generate dialogue  — even if it’s only in your own mind — on the idea of democracy.  I’ll try to steer away from developing my own definition of democracy and foisting it upon you, which would be both counterproductive and ironically inappropriate, given the topic.  Rather, through several case studies, I’ll be exposing you to a variety of democratic manifestations and journeys around the world. I hope to broaden other conceptualizations about what exactly we all might mean by this very tricky concept. We may discover that democracy might be found in the most unsuspecting places — or lacking in the most expected ones.

Next week: Democracy in the United States.

Related link: Grasping at Democracy: A Xenia Focus

• About C.J. Hobson
  A native of Oklahoma, C.J. Hobson received a bachelor of arts in 2000 in French language and literature from the University of Oklahoma while serving as special assistant to OU President David L. Boren. After graduation, Hobson worked in Washington, D.C., for the Public Forum Institute, a nonpartisan think tank that creates town hall forums for members of Congress. He returned to OU in 2002 to work in the Office of Education Abroad and currently serves as its assistant director for program development. Hobson facilitates the exchange of students, faculty and research between OU’s partner institutions in key areas of the world. Hobson additionally hold a master’s degree in international and areas studies from OU and is currently conducting his doctoral work in political science.  Hobson’s research interests are focused on human migration and security in the developing world.

Photo, middle: Mine resistant ambush protected vehicles sit in a row at the Camp Liberty MRAP fielding site on Feb. 20, the day a ceremony was held there to celebrate the introduction of the 10,000th vehicle into the Iraq Theater of Operations. Photo from Army.mil, used under Creative Commons license.