As Papua New Guinea (PNG) approaches its 49th year, I recently found myself reflecting on the state of its democracy.
A scan of its national headlines reveals stark decay – sickening retributive tribal violence, broken schools and hospitals, stifling energy poverty, endemic corruption.
Yet I wanted a wider lens to view the South Pacific nation of 11 million approaching a half century. And here I turned to an unlikely place – the Frenchman Alexis de Tocqueville and his seminal Democracy in America.
First published in 1835, Tocqueville’s four volume work is seen as one of the 19th century’s most classic political works. Travelling through the United States, Tocqueville was fascinated by what he saw – ‘the equality of conditions’, for example, through to a palpable instinct for liberty and citizen respect for laws, and both public and private institutions. Tocqueville was equally fascinated by the simplicity, wisdom and practical outcomes of the American Constitution.
I can’t help but wonder – in the land of hypotheticals – what Tocqueville would think if undertaking a similar visit through PNG today.
First, he’d likely be surprised – or perhaps curious – at the endurance of PNG’s British institutions and Westminster scaffolding. While suffering from ‘lack of fit’, and clearly addled by questionable performance, PNG’s Supreme Court and its unicameral 118-seat national parliament continue to provide an arrangement – however brittle – for managed disagreement among PNG’s 1000-plus tribal groups.
Like some outside observers, Tocqueville would be puzzled why a strong Presidential system has not emerged in PNG. Yet he’d quickly be reminded that consensus or centralised power is hampered by such hyper-pluralism. Here Tocqueville would also likely contrast between American republican impulses – where ‘the last trace of hereditary ranks and distinctions has been destroyed’ – with PNG’s status as a constitutional monarchy, which corresponds – as in many other Asia-Pacific nations – with domestic concepts of tradition, lineage and continuity.
In turn, Tocqueville would likely uncover PNG’s democratic contradiction – that, despite not delivering a strong central government, decentralisation has not gone well. The powers of its Provincial (State) Governments have been deliberately limited since independence. And this has been motivated by sound reasoning, given governance capability issues at Provincial and local government level, especially around revenue and financial management.
With his ‘federalist’ hat on, Tocqueville here would further observe another clear practical contrast between modern day PNG and the 19th century United States. Under the US Constitution, he noted, ‘the duties and rights of the federal government were simple and fairly easy to define, because the Union had been formed to respond to a small number of important general needs.’
PNG’s Constitution, at least on paper, offers similar practical responsibilities for the national government. Again, however, little extends by way of localised power to PNG’s provinces. In America, ‘by contrast, the duties and rights of state governments were manifold and complex, because the states were involved in every detail of social life.’
‘Thus state governments remained the rule; the federal government was the exception.’
In PNG, however, Tocqueville would awkwardly note: provincial governments are not the rule; national government is exceptionally weak. In exploring such hypotheticals between Democracy in America and Democracy in PNG, the differences are clear.
Yet what are the similarities?
On face value any overlaps may seem slim. Yet there are two in particular that emerge, from which I hope PNG can draw some optimism at this time.
The first is civil society. Tocqueville observed that ‘Americans of all ages, stations, and dispositions are forever forming associations. There are not only commercial and industrial associations, but a thousand different types – religious, moral, serious, futile, very general and very limited, immensely large and very minute.’
One can see this in PNG, especially in its ‘very minute’ associations, where community social organisations and other forms of shared interests may be small but are common and widespread.
I have seen this in remote villages and islands, whether it be women’s business collectives through to informal tourism networks, and in major centres in the form of advocacy groups and market vendors. While the outcomes of such associations may be challenged due to PNG’s many governance issues, freedom of association remains critically important for Papua New Guineans and, at least currently, works hand in glove with a free press and vocal levels of free speech and dissent. It is therefore essential for PNG’s democracy.
The second similarity is a detectable desire for liberty. As Tocqueville observed, American citizens wanted to ‘remain their own masters’. Such sentiment is reflected in PNG’s Constitution but, more importantly, on its streets, market places, people movers, villages, boats and its settlements.
Such a principle is critical to remember in this month of PNG’s independence. And how important it will be for PNG’s next half-century.
Sean Jacobs is a Papua New Guinean-born Brisbane-based writer, government relations and public policy specialist, and Industry Fellow at the Griffith Asia Institute.
