SEAN JACOBS  | 

The US Federalist Papers—published in 1787 and 1788—may seem a world away from the South Pacific nation of Papua New Guinea (PNG).

Drafted under the pseudonym of Publius and penned by John Jay, Alexander Hamilton and James Madison, the 85 essays urged ratification of the US Constitution, which was far from a sure outcome at the time.

Their work is seen as not only essential to the adoption of the Constitution but an enduring masterclass in the balance between the darker consistencies of human nature and the moderating role of institutions.

And it’s here that we can find contemporary relevance in the papers for PNG’s turbulent politics and state weakness.

James Madison, for example, spent a great deal in his chapters acknowledging factionalism—certainly not a new concept to PNG with its 1000-plus cultural groupings and 800-plus languages.

Yet Madison would not entirely see this as negative for PNG, despite factionalism holding PNG back in many respects.

He knew that the ‘the smaller the number of individuals composing a majority, and the smaller the compass within which they are placed, the more easily will they concert and execute their plans of oppression’.

While seemingly dramatic, we mustn’t forget the turbulent era of the late 18th century—indeed the story of political organisation throughout human history—where tyranny has been the rule rather than the exception.

‘Extend the sphere,’ Madison added, ‘and you take in a greater variety of parties and interests; you make it less probable that a majority of the whole will have a common motive to invade the rights of other citizens’.

As the horrors of 1990s Rwanda show, or even the former Yugoslavia within the same decade, a lesser probability of one group dominating another is certainly a desirable democratic outcome.

The challenge, however, emerges when finding consensus and concentrating power toward decent ends—delivering health services, for example, or basic law and order.

Here PNG is tremendously addled.

This is where the insights of Alexander Hamilton are important and the need, he noted, ‘for the firmness and efficiency of government’.

Hamilton reminded federalist readers that ‘the vigor of government is essential to the security of liberty,’ adding that it was a far less likely road to tyranny than political leaders or movements with ‘zeal for the rights of the people’.

In terms of ‘men who have overturned the liberties of republics,’ he reflected, ‘the greatest number have begun their career by paying an obsequious court to the people; commencing demagogues, and ending tyrants.’

As we’ve seen from these small examples, the federalist papers consist largely of the need to constrain power.

Indeed, power dispersion and a clear delineation between levels of government are key in this respect, with the US constitution devolving all kinds of levers to state governments versus that of the federal government.

While some US critics today would disagree with this arrangement, citing the creeping overreach of the federal government, the overall lesson of US democracy and federalism has been more or less clear in its foundational settings—dispersing appropriate power to as local a level possible.

PNG’s development, by contrast, has in a sense been anti-federalist, especially in that so much constitutional power and responsibility rests with the national government in Port Moresby.

Many will note this is for good reason. When trialed in the early 1990s, for example, political and fiscal devolution to PNG’s 22 provinces delivered very poor—almost astonishing—fiscal management outcomes.

But there is some sense of change in the air.

The concentration of revenue, political oversight and administration in Port Moresby is clearly not working with any significant impact, despite long running reform initiatives and external assistance from development partners.

PNG’s runaway population growth and brittle infrastructure, from health centres to schools and electricity infrastructure to roads, point to the need for more creative delivery solutions.

In turn, some commentators, and even the former Prime Minister Peter O’Neill—searching   for a political return to power—have recently pushed for more local and sub-national interventions by outside governments, namely PNG’s largest donor Australia.

At present, funding from the national government budget—where Australian funding enters—rarely touches the ground at a provincial and local government level.

Instituting tied aid to villages and town centres could be a positive alternative mechanism to deliver more impactful solutions on a range of outcomes, resulting with a more ‘federalist’ feel to PNG’s democratic arrangements rather than having to reshape PNG’s entire constitutional structure.

Tangible local impacts would importantly improve much-needed trust in PNG’s system of government.

Finally, in terms of an outward versus inward look at democracy, John Jay—the most silent of the Publius trio after suffering illness—notably reminded readers the following:

‘But the safety of the people of America against dangers from foreign force depends not only on their forbearing to give just causes for war to other nations, but also on their placing and continuing themselves in such a situation as not to invite hostility or insult…’.

Here PNG has been quietly gaining positive ground, shoring up its alliances with a range of foreign powers that includes France, the UK, China and the United States.

At the same time, however, and as I have expressed here, PNG has been clear about its shared values versus its shared interests. Or, more specifically, its respective fundamental relationship with the United States and Australia, with whom PNG shares values, versus that of China, with whom PNG has strong and vital commercial links.

Amid all of PNG’s challenges, it is a helpful and arguably optimistic reminder on the sum of its potential as a nation—that PNG can call upon shared values ‘as not to invite hostility or insult’.

PNG will turn 50 years of age next year. Harnessing its federalist credentials may be a good way to meet its significant headwinds.


AUTHOR

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.