We sat down with recipient of the FSI Global Underdevelopment Action Fund, Professor Beatriz Magaloni to learn more about her research plans and how her work will address the larger issues of poverty and governance in Latin America and beyond.

Beatriz Magaloni, associate professor of political science at Stanford, senior fellow at the Freeman Spogli Institute (FSI), and director of the Program on Poverty and Governance (PovGov) at the Center on Democracy, Development, and the Rule of Law, was recently awarded a grant through FSI's Global Underdevelopment Action Fund. Over the past ten years, Professor Magaloni has pioneered cross-national comparative research focused primarily on Latin America and Mexico. Leading the PovGov program, Professor Magaloni launched research projects examining political incentives for heath improvements, the role of women and family-planning decisions, public goods provisions in indigenous communities, and drug-related violence in Mexico.

We sat down with Professor Magaloni to learn more about her research plans and how her work will address the larger issues of poverty and governance in Latin America and beyond.

Professor Magaloni, tell us more about the work you are conducting with the support of the FSI Global Underdevelopment Action Fund?

We are using the support of the FSI Action Fund to expand a governance project that we started in Oaxaca, Mexico in 2009 to the Chiapas region. The Oaxaca research project focused on examining the effects of political institutions on public goods provision. In 1995, the state of Oaxaca allowed indigenous communities to decide if they wanted a form of traditional indigenous governance called “Usos y Costumbres,” or party governance. Our team studied the variations in these two forms of municipal governance and how they shape the provision of welfare-enhancing public goods, such as clean water, sanitation and sewage, and roads. The findings in Oaxaca showed that traditional governance leads to higher levels of civic engagement in collective decision-making and better provision of public goods. However, one key finding revealed that women enjoyed significantly lower levels of participation in civic life and governance overall. 

Why might this be?

More traditional structures of governance in indigenous communities were disempowering for women but the research carried out in Oaxaca revealed a positive effect on social and political participation among recipients of conditional cash transfers through Oportunidades.

For those of us unfamiliar with the Oportunidades program, please tell us more.

Oportunidades is a social program funded by the Mexican federal government that provides conditional cash transfers to poor women in exchange for their direct engagement in activities related to child nutrition, health, and education.

Why are you expanding the study to Chiapas?

A policy prescription that emerged from our results in Oaxaca led us to re-evaluate the possibility of establishing “Usos y Costumbres” beyond Oaxaca, and this grant will allow us to study the state of Chiapas. The state of Chiapas is traditionally party dominated but has a strong blend of traditional forms of governance. The baseline survey will be designed in Chiapas to understand how traditional governance practices are integrated into the party governance. We will ask if poor indigenous communities are better or worse off by choosing to govern themselves through customary law and participatory democracy, versus delegating decisions concerning the provision of public goods to political parties. This will allow us to identify how governance and patterns of civic engagement differ in both of these states and the effect on provision of local goods.

Stanford graduate students and post-doctoral scholars will be integral to our efforts to administer the survey and perform subsequent analysis.

How will women be central to your study in Chiapas?

The main addition to the survey will be a substantial segment devoted to the role of women in civil society with the goal of answering a number of questions regarding civic and political participation. Conducted at the household level, it is designed to gain a fuller picture of how women in Chiapas are influenced and shaped by the Oportunidades program.

In addition, our study in Chiapas will examine the following factors pertaining to women and governance:

1. The dynamics of governance in Mexico's indigenous regions and the ways in which women participate in collective decision-making and influence the distribution and access to public goods and services in the community.

2.  The relationship between Oportunidades and women's decision-making role in the provision of public goods.

3. The effects on health and educational outcomes that may be associated both with conditional cash transfer programs and women's participation in collective decision-making.

4. The policy implications for economic development and promoting human capital.

Who are you collaborating with on this project?

Ewen Wang is the co-investigator on this project. She is an associate professor of Surgery/Emergency Medicine at the Stanford School of Medicine and will be instrumental in collecting new data on health and education for children who are recipients of the Oportunidades program. We also are engaging inter-institutional collaborators from our partner universities, including; Alberto Díaz-Cayeros, Associate Professor of International Studies at the Center for U.S.-Mexican Studies, University of California, San Diego; and Vidal Romero, Assistant Professor of Political Science at Instituto Tecnológico Autónomo de México (ITAM).

What are the expected results or outcomes of this study?

The outcomes of this work have both theoretical and policy-relevant implications. The data we collect on the effect of participatory governance in indigenous regions in Mexico and how conditional cash transfer programs enable civic participation of women will have much broader application beyond Mexico's borders. A lot of other governments are experimenting with the use of conditional cash transfer programs and the result of this study should help inform public policy.

In Mexico, a policy brief highlighting the results of the survey will be prepared and presented to policymakers to describe the effects of local governance, civic engagement, and their impact on economic development. Policy recommendations will be presented to advise Chiapas (as well as other states in southern Mexico with a high prevalence of indigenous populations) on constitutional reform that gives autonomy to indigenous communities with respect to municipal collective decision-making.

Finally, a book-length project will be under development that describes how traditional governance in indigenous regions of Mexico shapes civic engagement, participation of women, and impacts the provision of public goods and services. The new data generated by this study will present new findings on how governance shapes the status of maternal and child health services in Chiapas, having much broader implications in the field of health policy.

In its broadest sense, development requires not simply sustained, robust levels of overall economic growth, but diminishing (and ultimately eliminating) absolute poverty and profound economic inequalities. Effective public action and good governance are essential to bringing about the conditions that create wealth, allow markets to function, and eliminate poverty.

Over 1 billion people in the world today are extremely poor, living on less than 1 dollar a day. Poverty relief requires the active involvement of governments in the provision of public goods such as drinking water, health clinics and services, sanitation, sewage, education, roads, electricity, and emergency relief, among others. In the developing world, failure on the part of government to deliver these public services often constitutes a major impediment to the alleviation of poverty.

The Program on Poverty and Governance Program at Stanford's Center on Democracy, Development, and the Rule of Law is working to understand the linkages between the quality of governance and developing societies' capacities to meet basic human needs and reduce poverty. Conceived in a broadly comparative international perspective, the Program is engaged in cross-national and field-based research projects, with a particular focus on Latin America and Mexico.

While academic political science has not had much to tell policymakers of late, there is one book that stands out as being singularly relevant to the events currently unfolding in Tunisia, Egypt and other Middle Eastern countries: Samuel Huntington’s Political Order in Changing Societies, first published over forty years ago.¹ Huntington was one of the last social scientists to try to understand the linkages between political, economic and social change in a comprehensive way, and the weakness of subsequent efforts to maintain this kind of large perspective is one reason we have such difficulties, intellectually and in policy terms, in keeping up with our contemporary world.

Huntington, observing the high levels of political instability plaguing countries in the developing world during the 1950s and 1960s, noted that increasing levels of economic and social development often led to coups, revolutions and military takeovers rather than a smooth transition to modern liberal democracy. The reason, he pointed out, was the gap that appeared between the hopes and expectations of newly mobilized, educated and economically empowered people on the one hand, and the existing political system, which did not offer them an institutionalized mechanism for political participation, on the other. He might have added that such poorly institutionalized regimes are also often subject to crony capitalism, which fails to provide jobs and incomes to the newly educated middle class. Attacks against the existing political order, he noted, are seldom driven by the poorest of the poor; they instead tend to be led by rising middle classes who are frustrated by the lack of political and economic opportunity—a phenomenon noted by Alexis de Tocqueville in his masterful analysis of the origins of the French Revolution and raised again in the early 1960s by James Davies’s well known “J-curve” theory of revolution.²

Something like this Huntingtonian process has unfolded in recent months in both Tunisia and Egypt. In both cases, anti-government protests were led not by the urban poor or by an Islamist underground, but by relatively well-educated middle-class young people used to communicating with each other via Facebook and Twitter. It is no accident that Wael Ghonim, Google’s regional head of marketing, emerged as a symbol and leader of the new Egypt. The protesters’ grievances centered around the fact that the authoritarian regimes of Ben Ali and Mubarak offered them no meaningful pathway to political participation, as well as failing to provide jobs befitting their social status. The protests were then joined by other groups in both societies—trade unionists, Islamists, peasants and virtually everyone else unhappy with the old regimes—but the driving force remained the more modern segments of Tunisian and Egyptian society.

Societies lacking institutions that could accommodate new social actors produced a condition Huntington labeled praetorianism, in which political participation took the form of strikes, demonstrations, protests and violence. The military often seized power in such circumstances because it was the only organized actor in society capable of running a government. The Egyptian Republic’s first autocrat, Gamal Abdel Nasser, came to power in precisely this manner back in July 1952, when his Free Officers movement represented the rising Egyptian middle class. The tragedy of modern Egypt is that there has been scarcely any meaningful political development in the more than half-century since then—meaning, in Huntington’s terms, the rise of modern institutions that could peacefully channel citizen participation.

Socioeconomic development, meanwhile, has proceeded apace: Between 1990–2010 Tunisia’s Human Development Index (a composite measure of health, education and income compiled by the UN) rose 30 percent, while Egypt’s rose 28 percent. Both countries produced tens of thousands of college graduates with no discernable future and a lopsided income distribution in which a disproportionate share of the gains from growth went to a small group of politically connected insiders. Huntington’s analysis of Egypt in the 1950s and 1960s thus remains eerily relevant today.

In Political Order Huntington was also making a broader point about the process of development itself. The significance of his book needs to be seen against the backdrop of post-World War II modernization theory, which in turn drew on classic 19th-century European social theory articulated by academics like Edward Shils, Talcott Parsons and Walt W. Rostow. American modernization theory argued that development was a single, seamless process. Economic development, changing social relationships like the breakdown of extended kinship groups and the growth of individualism, higher and more inclusive levels of education, normative shifts toward values like “achievement” and rationality, secularization and the growth of democratic political institutions, were all seen as an interdependent whole.

By pointing out that the good things of modernity did not necessarily go together, Huntington played a key role in killing off modernization theory. Political development was a separate process from socioeconomic development, he argued, and needed to be understood in its own terms. The conclusion that flowed from this point of view seemed at the time counterintuitive to the point of stunning: Without political development, the other aspects of modernization could lead to bad results—to tyranny, civil war and mass violence.

There were other reasons why Western modernization theory fell into disrepute by the 1970s: It came to be regarded as too Eurocentric—indeed, as too Americentric insofar as it seemed to posit American society as the pinnacle of modernization. It failed to recognize the possibility that countries like Japan and China might take roads to modernity that would look very different from the ones pioneered by Britain and the United States. But even if one agreed that the end point of development should be some form of industrialized liberal democracy, Huntington made it clear that arriving at the desired destination was far more elusive and complicated than modernization theorists believed.

The central piece of policy advice that emerged out of Huntington’s work was the concept of the “authoritarian transition.” If political systems opened up to democratic contestation too early, before the development of political parties, labor unions, professional associations and other organizations that could structure participation, the result could be chaotic. Authoritarian regimes that could maintain order and promote economic growth, Huntington argued, might oversee a more gradual institutionalization of society, and make a transition to democracy only when broad participation could be peacefully accommodated. This form of sequencing, in which economic development was promoted before a democratic opening, was the path followed by Asian countries like South Korea and Taiwan, which made democratic transitions in the late 1980s only after they had succeeded in turning themselves into industrialized powerhouses. It was also the development strategy recommended by Huntington’s former student Fareed Zakaria, as well as by the leaders of many authoritarian governments, who liked the idea of economic growth better than the idea of democratic participation.³ We will return to the question of how well that strategy worked in the Middle East later.

Development in Silos 

As interesting and important as Huntington’s work was, it lay outside of mainstream thinking about development, which from the start was a highly Balkanized academic field that was dominated by economists. Few scholars have sought to understand development as an inter-connected process with political, economic and social parts. Few scholars have sought to understand development as an inter-connected process with political, economic and social parts.Development economists looked primarily at economic factors like capital, labor and technology as sources of economic growth, and thought neither about the consequences of growth for politics nor the relationship of political institutions to growth. The Harrod-Domar growth model that was dominant in the 1950s suggested that less-developed countries were poor primarily because they lacked capital, which then led development agencies like the World Bank to try to kick start growth with generous infusions of capital for physical infrastructure. It was only when steel plants and shoe factories in sub-Saharan Africa went idle due to corruption or lack of organizational capacity that they were forced to go back to the drawing board.

The political scientists, for their part, scaled back their ambitions from large Huntingtonian-style theory and focused primarily on political phenomena. Beginning in the 1980s, there was increasing interest in the problem of transitions into and out of democracy; with democratic transitions in Spain, Portugal and nearly all of Latin America, this became a particularly pressing issue. There was some revival of interest in the democracy-development linkage, but it never led to a clear consensus on the causal links connecting the two phenomena.

The academic interest in transitions corresponded to the burgeoning of democracy promotion as a distinct field of international practice, both on the part of the United States and of other democracies around the world. The idea was planted during the 1970s, when the institutes linked with the German political parties played a key role in beating back an attempted Communist takeover in Portugal and facilitating that country’s transition to democracy. The 1980s saw the establishment of the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), a taxpayer-funded but quasi-independent organization devoted to support of pro-democracy groups around the world. One of the NED’s early successes was its funding of the Solidarity trade union in Poland before the collapse of communism. The 1990s saw the growth of a host of international organizations capable of monitoring elections and the funding of the Democracy and Governance branch of the U.S. Agency for International Development to the tune of almost $1.5 billion annually.

By the late 1990s, there was some degree of convergence in the agendas of economists and political scientists. By that point Douglass North and the school of “New Institutional Economics” he founded made economists aware of the importance of political institutions—particularly property rights—for economic growth. Economists increasingly sought to fold political variables like legal systems and checks on executive power into their models. Political science had itself been colonized at this point by economic methodology, and it was natural for such rational-choice political scientists to start looking at the economic impact of political institutions.

The return to a more interdisciplinary approach to development was marked as well by the tenure of James Wolfenson as President of the World Bank from 1995 to 2005.⁴ Wolfenson early on gave a speech on the “cancer of corruption” and signaled to the institution that, henceforth, political issues like corruption and good governance would be taken seriously. The publication of the 1997 World Development Report, The State in a Changing World, marked an intellectual break with the Washington Consensus focus on economic policy and state downsizing, and the Bank created a new branch devoted to reform of developing country public sectors. These changes constituted an open admission that politics was a critical component of development, and that the state was not simply an obstacle to growth but often a necessary underpinning for it. Increasingly, donor agencies have seen the promotion of democratic accountability as one tool in the fight against corruption.

This modest degree of convergence should not, however, obscure the continuing degree of compartmentalization that exists in the field of development. While paying lip service to the importance of institutions, most economists and field practitioners still see politics as at best an obstacle to the real work of development, which is improvement in incomes, health, education and the like, and not as an independent objective of development strategy. (Amartya Sen is an important exception to this generalization.) The democracy promotion agencies, for their part, spend relatively little time worrying about economic growth, social policy or public health, which in their view are goods often used by authoritarian regimes to buy off populations and prevent democratization.

The intellectual confusion surrounding development has led to severely Balkanized policies both in the United States and in the international community that often work at cross purposes from one another.The intellectual confusion surrounding development has led to severely Balkanized policies both in the United States and in the international community that often work at cross purposes from one another. For example, the authoritarian or semi-authoritarian regimes of Meles Zenawi in Ethiopia, Paul Kagame in Rwanda and Yoweri Museveni in Uganda have been aid darlings over the past decade because of their track records in promoting economic, health and social goals. At the same time, democracy promotion groups have been highly critical of them and have supported opposition groups and civil society organizations seeking accountability and limits on executive power. To be sure, aid agencies don’t object to greater government accountability on the part of these regimes, while the democracy promotion community wouldn’t stand in the way of progress on HIV/AIDS or malaria. Yet no one takes a larger view and asks, for example, whether existing aid programs are helping to keep the regime in power or, conversely, are destabilizing it.

Egypt itself presents a good case of this particular form of policy incoherence. Despite the fact that Egypt ranks as one of the top American aid recipients, it is hard to say that Washington was pursuing development goals of any sort there. The United States was primarily interested in stability. Despite brave speeches on democracy by both Condeleezza Rice and Barack Obama in Cairo, the United States actually pulled its punches in pushing serious democratic reform on Egypt, particularly after the Hamas electoral victory in Gaza in 2006. Nonetheless, U.S. economic aid programs were still pushing education and economic policy reform programs in the country. Had American aid administrators taken the Huntingtonian view that their assistance was covertly designed to promote an expectations gap and delegitimate Hosni Mubarak, this might have been a clever strategy. But no such cleverness existed. Instead, it was simply an example of compartmentalized aid programs doing their thing in ignorance of the interdependent effects of politics and economics.

What Is to Be Done?

Ideas precede action. Before we can hope to generate a coherent set of policies for Egypt, or anywhere else for that matter, we need a better understanding of development—that is, how changes in economy, politics and society over time constitute a set of discrete yet interlinked processes. Whatever the shortcomings of classic modernization theory, it at least began from the insight that the phenomenon under study required development of a master social science that transcended existing disciplinary boundaries. This objective is as far away as ever in academia, where the traditional disciplines keep a chokehold on how younger academics think and do research. Today, the single most popular form of development dissertation in both economics and political science is a randomized micro-experiment in which the graduate student goes out into the field and studies, at a local level, the impact of some intervention like the introduction of co-payments for malaria mosquito netting or changes in electoral rules on ethnic voting. These studies can be technically well designed, and they certainly have their place in evaluating projects at a micro level. But they do not aggregate upwards into anything that can tell us when a regime crosses the line into illegitimacy, or how economic growth is changing the class structure of a society. We are not, in other words, producing new Samuel Huntingtons, with the latter’s simultaneous breadth and depth of knowledge.

On a policy level, we need far more mutual understanding between those who promote socioeconomic development and those who work on democracy promotion and governance.On a policy level, we need far more mutual understanding between those who promote socioeconomic development and those who work on democracy promotion and governance. Traditional development agencies like USAID already think politically to the extent that their aid projects are designed to support U.S. foreign policy. But they, like their counterparts in multilateral organizations like the World Bank, are not trained to do political economy analysis; they do not seek an understanding of the political context within which aid is used and abused, and what is not sought is very rarely found. We call for the liberalization of ports in Haiti, for example, without trying to understand which particular politicians are benefiting from existing arrangements that keep them closed. For their part, democracy promoters focus on democratic transitions, providing help to opposition parties and civil society organizations in authoritarian countries. But once a transition occurs, as it did after the Orange and Rose revolutions in Ukraine and Georgia, they have relatively little to offer new democratic governments in terms of policy agendas, anti-corruption strategies or help in improving the delivery of services that citizens want.

Beyond these relatively minor adjustments, a more robust theory of social change might tell us that, in certain circumstances, the best way to destabilize an authoritarian society would be not the funding of civil society groups seeking short-term regime change, but rather the promotion of rapid economic growth and the expansion of educational access.⁵ Conversely, there are many societies we know will simply waste development assistance dollars because they are ruled by unaccountable authoritarian regimes. In such circumstances, it might be a more efficient use of aid resources to cut development aid entirely and to work only for political change. This is, in effect, what has happened to Zimbabwe under Robert Mugabe, but the country had to sink very far before anyone considered pulling the aid plug.

Huntington got a number of things wrong. The authoritarian transition was not a universally applicable formula for development. It worked reasonably well in East Asia, where there were a number of figures like Lee Kwan Yew, Park Chung-hee or the Chinese Communist Party leadership, who used their autocratic powers to promote rapid development and social change. Arab authoritarians were cut from a different cloth, content to preside over economically stagnant societies. The result was not a coherent development strategy but a wasted generation.

The aspiration of social science to replicate the predictability and formality of certain natural sciences is, in the end, a hopeless endeavor. Human societies, as Friedrich Hayek, Karl Popper and others understood, are far too complex to model at an aggregate level. Contemporary macroeconomics, despite dealing with social phenomena that are inherently quantified, is today in crisis due to its utter failure to anticipate the recent financial crisis.

The part of social change that is the hardest to understand in a positivistic way is the moral dimension—that is, the ideas that people carry around in their heads regarding legitimacy, justice, dignity and community. The current Arab uprising was triggered by the self-immolation of an overeducated 26-year-old Tunisian vegetable seller whose cart was repeatedly confiscated by the authorities. After Mohamed Bouazizi was slapped by a policewoman when he tried to complain, he reached the end of his tether. Bouazizi’s public suicide turned into a social movement because contemporary communications technologies facilitated the growth of a new social space where middle-class people could recognize and organize around their common interests. We will probably never understand, even in retrospect, why the dry tinder of outraged dignity suddenly ignited in this fashion in December 2010 as opposed to 2009, or ten years before that, and why the conflagration spread to some Arab countries but not to others. But we can certainly do a better job in putting together the few pieces we do understand, in a way that would be useful to policymakers coping with the reality of social change.

¹Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies: With a New Forward by Francis Fukuyama (Yale University Press, 2006).

²Davies, “Towards a Theory of Revolution”, American Sociological Review, Vol. 27 (1962).

³Zakaria, The Future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad (W. W. Norton, 2003); see also Zakaria, “A Conversation with Lee Kuan Yew”, Foreign Affairs (March/April 1994).

⁴For a description of the Wolfenson presidency, see Sebastian Mallaby, The World’s Banker: A Story of Failed States, Financial Crises, and the Wealth and Poverty of Nations (Penguin Press, 2004).

⁵See Harold James’s retroview, entitled “Growing Pains”, of a classic December 1963 essay by Mancur Olson (“Rapid Growth as a Destabilizing Force”) in The American Interest (September/October 2006).

In reaction to the arrest of Dominique Strauss-Khan for allegations of rape in May, Kavita Ramdas and Christine Ahn argue in a piece for Foreign Policy in Focus that gender bias is embedded in the global policies and practices at the IMF, which unfairly target women. Kavita Ramdas is the president and CEO of the Global Fund for Women and a visiting scholar at the Center on Democracy, Development, and the Rule of Law.

As Dominique Strauss-Kahn, head of the world’s most powerful financial institution, the International Monetary Fund (IMF), spends a few nights in Rikers Island prison awaiting a hearing, the world is learning a lot about his history of treating women as expendable sex objects. Strauss-Kahn has been charged with rape and forced imprisonment of a 32-year-old Guinean hotel worker at a $3,000-a-night luxury hotel in New York.

While the media dissects the attempted rape of a young African woman and begins to dig out more information about Strauss-Kahn’s past indiscretions, we couldn’t help but see this situation through the feminist lens of the “personal is political.” 

For many in the developing world, the IMF and its draconian policies of structural adjustment have systematically “raped” the earth and the poor and violated the human rights of women. It appears that the personal disregard and disrespect for women demonstrated by the man at the highest levels of leadership within the IMF is quite consistent with the gender bias inherent in the IMF’s institutional policies and practice.

Systematic Violation of Women’s Human Rights

The IMF and the World Bank were established in the aftermath of World War II to promote international trade and monetary cooperation by giving governments loans in times of severe budget crises. Although 184 countries make up the IMF’s membership, only five countries—France, Germany, Japan, Britain, and the United States—control 50 percent of the votes, which are allocated according to each country’s contribution.

The IMF has earned its villainous reputation in the Global South because in exchange for loans, governments must accept a range of austerity measures known as structural adjustment programs (SAPs). A typical IMF package encourages export promotion over local production for local consumption. It also pushes for lower tariffs and cuts in government programs such as welfare and education. Instead of reducing poverty, the trillion dollars of loans issued by the IMF have deepened poverty, especially for women who make up 70 percent of the world’s poor.

IMF-mandated government cutbacks in social welfare spending have often been achieved by cutting public sector jobs, which disproportionately impact women. Women hold most of the lower-skilled public sector jobs, and they are often the first to be cut. Also, as social programs like caregiving are slashed, women are expected to take on additional domestic responsibilities that further limit their access to education or other jobs.

In exchange for borrowing $5.8 billion from the IMF and World Bank, Tanzania agreed to impose fees for health services, which led to fewer women seeking hospital deliveries or post-natal care and naturally, higher rates of maternal death.  In Zambia, the imposition of SAPs led to a significant drop in girls’ enrollment in schools and a spike in “survival or subsistence sex” as a way for young women to continue their educations.

But IMF’s austerity measures don’t just apply to poor African countries. In 1997, South Korea received $57 billion in loans in exchange for IMF conditionalities that forced the government to introduce “labor market flexibility,” which outlined steps for the government to compress wages, fire “surplus workers,” and cut government spending on programs and infrastructure. When the financial crisis hit, seven Korean women were laid off for every one Korean man. In a sick twist, the Korean government launched a "get your husband energized" campaign encouraging women to support depressed male partners while they cooked, cleaned, and cared for everyone.

Nearly 15 years later, the scenario is grim for South Korean workers, especially women. Of all OECD countries, Koreans work the longest hours: 90% of men and 77% of women work over 40 hours a week.  According to economist Martin Hart-Landsberg, in 2000, 40 percent of Korean workers were irregular workers; by 2008, 60 percent worked in the informal economy. The Korean Women Working Academy reports that today 70 percent of Korean women workers are temporary laborers.

Selling Mother Earth

IMF policies have also raped the earth by dictating that governments privatize the natural resources most people depend on for their survival: water, land, forests, and fisheries. SAPs have also forced developing countries to stop growing staple foods for domestic consumption and instead focus on growing cash crops, like cut flowers and coffee for export to volatile global markets. These policies have destroyed the livelihoods of small-scale subsistence farmers, the majority of whom are women.

“IMF adjustment programs forced poor countries to abandon policies that protected their farmers and their agricultural production and markets,” says Henk Hobbelink of GRAIN, an international organization that promotes sustainable agriculture and biodiversity. "As a result, many countries became dependent on food imports, as local farmers could not compete with the subsidized products from the North. This is one of the main factors in the current food crisis, for which the IMF is directly to blame."

In the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), IMF loans have paved the way for the privatization of the country’s mines by transnational corporations and local elites, which has forcibly displaced thousands of Congolese people in a context where women and girls experience obscenely high levels of sexual slavery and rape in the eastern provinces. According to Gender Action, the World Bank and IMF have made loans to the DRC to restructure the mining sector, which translates into laying off tens of thousands of workers, including women and girls who depend on the mining operations for their livelihoods. Furthermore, as the land becomes mined and privatized, women and girls responsible for gathering water and firewood must walk even further, making them more susceptible to violent crimes.

We Are Over It

Women’s rights activists around the globe are consistently dumbfounded by how such violations of women’s bodies are routinely dismissed as minor transgressions. Strauss-Kahn, one of the world’s most powerful politicians whose decisions affected millions across the globe, was known for being a “womanizer” who often forced himself on younger, junior women in subordinate positions where they were vulnerable to his far greater power, influence, and clout. Yet none of his colleagues or fellow Socialist Party members took these reports seriously, colluding in a consensus shared even by his wife that the violation of women’s bodily integrity is not in any sense a genuine violation of human rights.

Why else would the world tolerate the unearthly news that 48 Congolese women are raped every hour with deadening inaction? Eve Ensler speaks for us all when she writes, “I am over a world that could allow, has allowed, continues to allow 400,000 women, 2,300 women, or one woman to be raped anywhere, anytime of any day in the Congo. The women of Congo are over it too.”

We live in a world where millions of women don’t speak their truth, don’t tell their dark stories, don’t reveal their horror lived every day just because they were born women.  They don’t do it for the same reasons that the women in the Congo articulate – they are tired of not being heard. They are tired of men like Strauss-Kahn, powerful and in suits, believing that they can rape a black woman in a hotel room, just because they feel like it. They are tired of the police not believing them or arresting them for being sex workers. They are tired of hospitals not having rape kits. They are tired of reporting rape and being charged for adultery in Iran, Pakistan, and Saudi Arabia.

Fighting Back

For each one of them, and for those of us who have spent many years investing in the tenacity of women’s movements across the globe, the courage and gumption of the young Guinean immigrant shines like the torch held by Lady Liberty herself. This young woman makes you believe we can change this reality. She refused to be intimidated.  She stood up for herself. She fought to free herself—twice—from the violent grip of the man attacking her. She didn’t care who he was—she knew she was violated and she reported it straight to the hotel staff, who went straight to the New York police, who went straight to JFK to pluck Strauss-Kahn from his first-class Air France seat.

In a world where it often feels as though wealth and power can buy anything, the courage of a young woman and the people who stood by her took our breath away. These stubborn, ethical acts of working class people in New York City reminded us that women have the right to say “no.”  It reminded us that “no” does not mean “yes” as the Yale fraternities would have us believe, and, most importantly that no one, regardless of their position or their gender, should be above the law.  A wise woman judge further drove home the point about how critically important it is to value women’s bodies when she denied Strauss-Kahn bail citing his long history of abusing women.

Strauss-Kahn sits in his Rikers Island cell. It would be a great thing if his trial succeeds in ending the world’s tolerance for those who discriminate and abuse women. We cannot tolerate it one second longer.  We cannot tolerate it at the personal level, we must refuse to condone it at the professional level, and we must challenge it every time it we see it in the policies of global institutions like the International Monetary Fund.

After his death, will Osama Bin Laden become a myth?

For the West perhaps, but not for Arabs. Bin Laden’s influence has been in decline since 2004, when people realized that most of his victims were Muslims.

You have never stopped making the case for the democratization of the Arab world. It got to the point, in 1995, that Hassan II banned you from the palace for several months. How do you explain the wave of protests that we see today, from the Gulf to the Atlantic, sparing no country?

Aside from the conjunctural factors, there are some underlying reasons. To begin with, there is the character of the regimes that exists. Some are completely closed, while others have a façade of openness. All of a sudden, the structures of mediation — parties, unions, associations, etc. — that were supposed to represent civil society were completely discredited. At the end of the day, we were left with the dominant elites, alienated and cut off from the rest of the country, relying on the security apparatus. Also, in reality, the economic opening imposed by globalization and promoted by international financial institutions only profited the elites. In the absence of any serious policy of redistribution, GDP growth was accompanied up by an increase in poverty and social insecurity that made life more precarious even for the middle classes. Finally, we cannot ignore the demographic evolution of these countries. The transition from the extended family to the nuclear family, and the entrance of women into active public life on a greater scale considerably changed the social landscape. At the same time, widespread access to new means of communication broke the spell of the state’s monopoly on information, and brought more and more people into contact with the wider world. Even before the rise of new media technologies, the arrival of Al-Jazeera in the living rooms of the region had created a revolution!

And what was the trigger?

The sense of insult. The sense that one’s dignity was being insulted. This notion of dignity is essential to understanding what is happening right now. Until now, the prevailing concepts, especially that of national honor, were elements of a collective attitude. Dignity is a demand of the individual. I will add that the WikiLeaks revelations played a role in laying bare the disdain in which the governments held their citizens.

This revolt led to a set of demands that were democratic, and virtually never religious, even if Islamist movements tried to hop aboard the train.  Why?

Because this is a movement of the citizen! Its young organizers are challenging at once the authoritarianism of the regimes and the ideological discourse of the Islamists. They want neither despotism nor theocracy. They belong to a globalized, post-ideological generation, which privileges the autonomy of the subject and the individual. They refuse the identity gambit, Islamist or not, and aspire to universal values. We are in the full enthusiasm of the 1848 “springtime of the peoples,” with the romantic twist of May ’68. It remains to be seen if these young protesters will be able to transform their efforts into something that has a more concrete political content. Right now, we are entering into the kind of trench warfare between the besieged regimes and the democratic movements.

How do you understand the evolution of the situation in Tunisia and Egypt?  Are you optimistic?

The two situations are not identical. I’m optimistic regarding the transition to democracy in Tunisia, and more circumspect regarding Egypt. In Egypt, the army was always the spine of the regime. Under the pressure of the street, it broke from the head of state, but it remains very much in business, and will, in my opinion, hold onto its role as kingmaker for a long time. The temptation to reconstitute a party that would restore an order from the bits and pieces of the old regime – bringing together Islamists, businessmen, former dissidents, etc.— to the detriment of the reformers, is very real.

Do you think the regime in Syria will fall in turn?

Yes, if the revolt persists, and widens so much that the regime would be obliged to call on the army, which might hesitate to fire on the people. Right now, it’s the Republican Guard, controlled by the Alaouite minority, with the support of paramilitary groups, which is carrying out the repression. But it’s not clear that they would be able to stand against a general uprising. This is the problem that all the closed regimes face, once they’re confronted with an insurrection.

In the monarchies, the demonstrators don’t demand that the sovereign “leave,” but that the system be reformed. Could it be that Kings are more legitimate and republican dictators? The monarchy is at once an institution of arbitration and the symbol of national identity. For the most part, the populations of these countries accept this concept. But, eventually, this could cease to be the case, if these monarchies do not respond to their peoples’ aspiration for change. Right now, they — especially the divine-right monarchies — are struggling to find a response to this urgency.

To that point: In Morocco, where Mohammed VI named a commission to consider the reform of institutions, the religious powers of the king are today widely debated. The youth who organized the February 20th movement and the following demonstrations are calling into question the article of the constitution that emphasizes the sacred character of the person of the king. They are also questioning his role as commander of the faithful. How far must this reform go?

“Sacrality” is not compatible with democracy. One can understand that the person of the king should be inviolable, because he is the representative of the nation. One can preserve the role of “commander of the faithful,” if it is understood as having a moral dimension --somewhat like the Queen of England is the head of the Church of England and Defender of the Faith. But it’s necessary to give up the idea of the sacred character of the person of the king. If one keeps that notion, which was copied from French absolutism, in the midst of an institutional arrangement that is otherwise democratic, everything will be skewed. In the end, that won’t work.

Can the commission named by Mohamed VI go so far as to propose the suppression of the sacrality of the person who of the king?

I think that the Moroccan monarchy has understood the depth of the challenge, even if it has barely responded to it.  The commission is advisory. It’s the king who will decide.

In Morocco today, the ultraleft is part of the February 20 Movement, demanding the election of a constituent assembly…

That’s unrealistic. That would mean the end of the regime. Historically, constituent assemblies consummated the end of a regime.

Fundamentally, must it move towards a Spanish-style monarchy, as some demand? Or should we rather have a constitution in which the king would more or less have the powers of the French president, with a two-headed executive, as one sometimes hears in Morocco?

In France, the Head of State and the Prime Minister are both determined by popular sovereignty. In Morocco, there are two sources of legitimacy – that of ballots, and that of tradition. One can’t transpose the logic of the philosophy of cohabitation with that of a protected space. We have to turn the page, and do it without ambiguity. Morocco should draw on the experiences of the European monarchies, while preserving its own traditions and culture.

Do you think the reform will go that far?

Either the reform will stop short, because it doesn’t go far enough, and the contestation will continue. Or the king will choose to take the process to its conclusion. But in that case he risks to be brought to account, particularly for the choices of his entourage. Because the regime has waited too long, and time is pressing, there is a risk that everything will have to be done all at once. It’s an enormous challenge, without precedent. To reform the constitution is not only to define the equilibrium of power and give a moral dimension to the “commander of the faithful,” it is also to make sure that all the activities of state are inscribed in a legal and rational framework.

Is the challenge the same for the other Arab monarchies?

The problem is practically the same in Jordan, with the added fragility that derives from the institution’s lack of historical depth. In the Gulf, a process will take longer because civil society is not as well developed. Oil rents also allow problems to be postponed. That being said, in Bahrain, the monarchy, by choosing one side rather than another, is playing a dangerous game. And in Kuwait, they have already known ten years of repetitive crises.

How do you evaluate the West’s attitude toward the “Arab Spring”?

Westerners are blinded by the Islamist bogeyman. But France, in particular, which should rejoice to see young Arabs coming into the street in the name of its own values, seems to me turned in on itself and completely confounded. The United States is more pragmatic. It is acting in accordance with its strategic interests, case by case.

Is it true that you were one of the consultants who, in 2009, participated in crafting Barack Obama’s speech in Cairo?

Among others, I was consulted. Unlike other American presidents, Obama knows and understands the region. But when he made that speech he was not as well aware as his predecessors had been of the constraints of the American system – particularly the strength, in the United States, of the pro-Israel lobby.

How does one become the advocate of the democratic opening of the Arab monarchies when one is the nephew of Hassan II?

From studying abroad, undoubtedly an opening to the world. And an interest, acquired very early, in social problems…

But you remain a monarchist?

Yes. I remain convinced that a change in the framework of a reformed monarchy represents the least costly solution for Morocco. I would be lying if I were to claim that biology had nothing to do with this conviction.

The stands that you’ve taken have caused you several difficulties with your Uncle Hassan II. Then with your cousin Mohammed VI…

With Mohammed VI above all, insofar as his entourage brings more influence to bear than did that of Hassan II, I have been hassled, and made the object of campaigns against me…

How are your relations with him today?

During the last ten years, I was in the royal palace once. I have only seen the king two or three times, in the context of family reunions. The memories of the shared childhood and youth remain. The sense also of belonging to the same family. This is a constitutive element of my identity.