The demise of Moammar Gadhafi’s regime gave Abdulhafid Sidoun a second chance at life.

Six days before Sidoun was to be executed for promoting democracy in Libya, rebels toppled the government and emptied the country’s jails of its political prisoners. After more than five months of beatings and abuse on death row, Sidoun was free. Weeks later, Gadhafi was dead, gunned down by the rebels.

Sidoun’s fight to bring democracy and accountability to Libya is far from over. Qadaffi’s 40-year stranglehold starved Libya of political debate and evolution, and Sidoun knew he needed a crash-course in building an open, stable society. He received one this summer at Stanford, joining 23 other pro-democracy advocates from 22 countries in the Draper Hills Summer Fellows Program on Democracy and Development.

“Gadhafi is gone, but we still have a corrupt system we need to clean up,” says Sidoun, a Tripoli-based lawyer who waged a social media campaign to unite Gadhafi opponents. “My country needs me now. I have to work with my friends and colleagues and other lawyers and tell them what I’ve learned.”

Abdulhafid Sidoun was sentenced to death for trying to topple Moammar Gadhafi’s regime. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

He has chronic back pain from the blows dealt by prison guards. And he winces when he talks about being torn from his family and isolated in a dark cell where he had no idea how – or even whether – the revolt against Gadhafi was unfolding until rebels broke him free.

For three weeks in late July and early August, Sidoun and the other fellows participated in faculty-led sessions on democracy, economic development, global health and hunger, human rights and the new technologies making it easier to organize and inspire reform. They took field trips to San Francisco and Monterey and met with officials at Google, Facebook and the Omidyar Network, a philanthropic investment firm that is contributing to the fellowship program.

And they spent time getting to know each other. Entrepreneurs, lawyers, journalists, politicians and civil society leaders sharing stories of overwhelming repression and the small successes they’ve had in trying to reform governments in places like Chile, China, Serbia and Zimbabwe.

“Everyone here has different stories and cultures, but we all talk about the same corruption,” Sidoun says. “We are learning that our problems are not very different.”

Fighting ignorance, encouraging debate

Now in its eighth year, the Draper Hills program – run by the Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law at Stanford’s Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies – has created and grown a worldwide network of up-and-coming leaders.

About 200 fellows from more than 60 countries have passed through the program and are now trying to craft policy and bring about political and economic reform.

“Many governments in Latin America are suffering from very strong political leaders who were elected presidents but think they are little kings or queens who own the country,” says Laura Alonso, a national representative in the Argentine Congress selected as one of this year’s fellows.

“The main problem is that the people who become so powerful distort the rule of law,” she says. “There is a rule of law for their friends and a different rule of law for their enemies. So this is what I want to go home and address – how can we have a rule of law that applies to everyone? My time at Stanford is giving me the perspective I need to go back to the basics of democracy.”

The fellowship program also addresses the overlap of business and government, and has increased its emphasis on the role entrepreneurs play in building democracy.

"We have brought a few entrepreneurs into the group of fellows," says Kathryn Stoner, an expert on Russia who lectured to the fellows about democratic transitions. "It is good for them to know how to get around corrupt practices in government. We also know that a strong middle class is the backbone of democracy. Once people have property, they tend to want to protect it as well as to demand representation for any taxes they pay. Encouraging entrepreneurship then is a good way to pursue both economic and political development worldwide."

While they’re all at Stanford to learn, the fellows are eager to share their newfound knowledge.

Kamal Siddiqi uses his position as a newspaper editor to strengthen democracy in Pakistan. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

Bassim Assuqair was raised in Yemen by parents who forbade him from working as a teenager so he could devote all his energy to his studies. After earning a degree in English education from Sana’a University, he has worked for various development organizations. But he’s most interested in organizing Yemen’s youth and teaching them about the benefits of living in a country with free elections and the rule of law.

“There is so much ignorance, so much illiteracy in my country,” he says. “The people aren’t bad. They’re simple. They need awareness. I want them to know peace. It’s my task – I am ordering myself – to explain to others what I’m learning here.”

Kamal Siddiqi is another self-styled evangelist of democracy. As editor of The Express Tribune, an English-language daily in Pakistan, Siddiqi uses the newspaper as a check on government power while making the case that “a very bad elected prime minister is still better than a very good dictator.”

As a Draper Hills fellow, Siddiqi picked up technological tips and made connections with Stanford faculty that will help him better monitor crime, corruption and his country’s upcoming elections.

“I want to draw on the strength of the faculty and fellows of CDDRL to write for my newspaper,” he says. “They will play a part in my attempt to introduce some more ideas and issues in the general debate on elections and democracy.”

A chance to reflect

When FSI Director Coit D. Blacker and a core group of FSI’s senior fellows – including CDDRL Director Larry Diamond, Stoner-Weiss, former Stanford President Gerhard Casper and Michael A. McFaul, now Washington’s ambassador to Moscow – created the fellowship program, they wanted to give practitioners a chance to reflect and learn about democratic theory.

"We felt that practitioners from developing countries or countries in political and economic transition often feel isolated in the work that they do and they burn out," says Stoner-Weiss. "There were no such programs for international practitioners when we began eight years ago. We wanted to provide them with a sense of international community and the knowledge that they are not toiling away on their own." 

And the lessons the fellows learn from Stanford faculty can be invaluable. When it comes to building a constitution – something several of the fellows grapple with – Francis Fukuyama says there’s only a certain amount of time for a newly formed government to “get it right.”

FSI's Gerhard Casper waves a copy of the Magna Carta while speaking to the fellows about the rule of law. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

“If you don’t, your window of opportunity slams shut,” says Fukuyama, a FSI senior fellow who lectured to the group about economic development and governance.

“But you don’t want to invite more problems by not thinking through exactly what kind of government you want," he says. "You need to have a theoretical and academic perspective.”

And the learning goes both ways.

“I’m getting the problems and issues of 22 countries downloaded onto me in a very short period of time,” says Erik Jensen, a law professor and CDDRL faculty member who also helped start the fellowship program.

“The fellows bring important insights and opinions that don’t land on the front page of The New York Times, but are integral to understanding what’s going on in the developing world,” he says. “That’s pretty great to have in one room.”

Courage, risk and magic

After building momentum and attracting a growing number of faculty who wanted to work with the fellows, the program that began in 2005 quickly caught the interest of venture capitalist Bill Draper and philanthropist Ingrid Hills. Their $1.5 million gift gave the program its name in 2007.

Draper’s interest in the program is deeply tied to his background running the United Nations Development Programme between 1986 and 1994.

“There are wonderfully courageous leaders in this world who are willing to take risks,” Draper says. “It’s magical what can happen, and I’ve seen how one person really can make an enormous difference. A lot of people selected for this fellowship program have that opportunity.”

Hills anticipates the fellows will create a network that extends beyond the three weeks they spend together at Stanford. And former fellows plan to connect in Africa later this year to explore how to combat regional corruption and increase government accountability.

“My hope is that the program will give the fellows the knowledge and tools to build an infrastructure in their respective countries based on democratic principles,” Hills said.

Diamond, whose opening day lecture on defining democracy sets the stage for the learning that unfolds over the coming weeks, says the program ultimately invests in people with the potential to expand democracy.

“It gives them skills, ideas and comparative experiences to draw on,” he says. “Some of these people will continue to work in an important and incremental way to advance and defend human rights and the rule of law. Some will go on to have very prominent roles in government and civil society.”

Life sentence

Some of them, like Ethiopia’s Birtukan Midekssa, are already renowned political leaders whose stories underscore the most extreme hardships of building democracy.

Pardoned from the lifelong prison sentence she received for opposing Ethiopia's authoritarian government, Birtukan Midekssa is still fighting for democratic reform. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

By the second time Midekssa was in prison, her daughter was old enough to ask if her mother was going to come home.

“I’ll be back,” Midekssa told the 3-year-old. But the promise was tenuous. She was serving a life sentence, convicted of trying to overthrow Ethiopia’s constitutional order. Her actual crime was promoting honest democracy in a country run by a government intolerant of dissent and dismissive of civil liberties.

She was first sentenced to life in prison in 2005. Her daughter was 8 months old and Midekssa – then a federal judge – was just elected deputy chair of the Coalition for Unity and Democracy. Her party had won a majority in parliament, but Prime Minister Meles Zenawi cracked down on the rising opposition. Midekssa and about 30,000 others were thrown in jail. Security forces killed nearly 200 demonstrators during rallies that began peacefully.

Midekssa was pardoned 18 months later, but re-arrested in 2008 after being accused of violating the terms of that agreement. She had also recently been elected chair of a new opposition group.

“They had me in solitary confinement and cut off from the entire world,” she says. “Sometimes I felt like the whole world was forgetting about me.”

It had not. When she was pardoned again in 2010, throngs of overjoyed supporters greeted her with shouts, songs and dance when she returned to her neighborhood in Addis Ababa.

But Midekssa was drained. Her party was weakened and her political prospects were uncertain. With few options in Ethiopia, she and her daughter moved to the United States in 2011.

“There was little I could do,” she says. “I wanted to learn more, study more and figure out how to establish democracy and stability.”

Landing a Draper Hills fellowship meant the chance to tap into a deep academic perspective and think about how she might take another pass at building democracy when Ethiopia’s authoritarian system shows some sign of opening up.

“She’s not a revolutionary in favor of violence or radical change,” Diamond says. “If the regime decides it wants to negotiate a process of political reform and put the political system on the foundations of greater legitimacy, she’s one of the first people they’d need to reach out to.”

But until they do, Midekssa will wait patiently. Studying. Retooling. Sharing her experiences. And repeating the promise she made to her daughter years ago:

“I’ll be back.”

With Spain as the current hotspot in the European financial crisis, it is easy to lose sight of the broader features of the Spanish predicament, which, I submit, was political and cultural before it emerged as financial. One reason for the dramatic escalation of the risk premium on Spanish bonds is the government’s low credibility - itself the consequence of a heady mix of self-contradiction, lack of transparency, and downright lying. On November 20, 2011, after years of corrosive opposition, Mariano Rajoy rose to the presidency of the government on assurances that he understood the crisis and knew how to handle it.  He now feels trapped in a situation he cannot control, not least because much of the damage is of his own party’s making. To be sure, the socialists contributed mightily to the public debt, exacerbated it by denying the crisis when it was already in evidence, and worst of all, did not act to control the housing bubble, which left in its wake banks filled with toxic assets and a severe credit crunch. But at the root of the housing and mortgage bubble were the dangerous liaisons between the banking system and regional governments such as those in  Madrid and Valencia, that have long been steeped in the Partido Popular’s reckless politics and corrupt practices (epitomized by Bankia’s lurid ambitions and costly rescue.)

The banking crisis is dragging down the Spanish economy and bringing the country’s financial structure into uncharted territory. This is a seemingly paradoxical outcome for a country that a few years back boasted a positive balance and a higher growth rate than its neighbors. What happened to upend the triumphant rhetoric of presidents Aznar and Zapatero? To a certain extent the markets appear to have overreacted, and their knee-jerk response to rising debt caused in part by investors’ demand for higher interest on Spanish bonds threatens to bring about a self-fulfilling prophecy. Before the market developed these jitters however, Spain’s public debt was in fact lower than Germany’s, even as the latter functions as the basis against which the financial risk of other countries is measured. In the last week of June 2012, the distance between Spain's and Germany's debt risk was 504 basis points, while that between the US and Germany was only 13. In relation to GDP however, Spain’s public debt remains significantly lower than that of the U.S. At the end of 2011, Spain’s public debt was 68.5% of its GDP, while the US’s was 110.2%.  In spite of this, the US continues to have no trouble financing its debt, and the American dollar has been rising in recent months and continues to be regarded as a safe haven, while the euro is at risk.

Why all the fuss about Spain? The answer lies in a combination of causes.  In the first place, there is the big hole punched into Spanish banks by the large-scale default on loans irresponsibly pushed on overly optimistic borrowers; and then there is the unlikelihood of an economic recovery vigorous enough to guarantee the debt’s financing. Saddled with debt, subjected to salary cuts, and adrift in a dwindling job market, Spanish consumers will hardly be able to fuel a meaningful recovery for some time.  At present, the combined debt ofSaish families is nearly 100% of national GDP. Corporate debt is even larger. And it is not the private sector alone that is stuck. The loss of confidence also affects the Bank of Spain. For a long time the country’s central banking authority turned a blind eye to the bad lending practices of private institutions, and so it shares the blame for the illusion of an ever-expanding and ever-appreciating housing sector. When the fantasy receded, thousands of families, as well as the owners of small and middle-sized companies, were left stranded in a financial desert; and once the economy actually began to shrink, the government increasingly lost its ability to finance the debt.

Is Spain at risk of leaving the Eurozone? While this cannot be ruled out, it is unlikely. The possibility of going back to the peseta is precluded by the fact that foreign, mostly German and Chinese, investors, whose money helped pump up the housing bubble, now make up the bulk of Spain’s creditors. They will hardly sit by and allow Spain to devalue its way out of the mess. Although he dragged his feet, Rajoy has finally applied to Brussels for rescue funds and will submit to European oversight.  The proposed solution will undoubtedly involve further dismantling of services, salary cuts, and higher unemployment.  This is a bitter pill that will test Spain’s already shaky social cohesion. Rajoy will dispense it because he has no alternative, or rather because the alternative—letting the sick banks fail instead of nationalizing their losses—is not acceptable to the financial markets. Adding to the markets’ nervousness is the fact that Rajoy has proven to be singularly maladroit at administering the medicine.  This is where politics and culture come into the picture.

Spain’s troubles go back to the origin of its current regime in the late 1970s. They are rooted in a faulty transition that was expected to convert a country without democratic traditions into a full-fledged western democracy. But today all of Spain’s core institutions have fallen into disrepute: after years of covering its scandals, the monarchy has finally disgraced itself irreparably; the Supreme Court is affected by corruption at its core; the president of Madrid's regional government (a militant and vocal member of the extreme right wing of the Partido Popular) is calling for the dissolution of the Constitutional Court (i.e. for a return to undisguised authoritarian rule); and the tone of the debates in Congress could hardly fall to a lower level. Spanish democracy is ailing, but for anyone who has observed it with attention since its inception, the confirmation of what was once merely an inkling can hardly be cause for surprise.

In the 1970s, Spain’s bid for democratic legitimacy and admission to the European Community required the restoration of Basque and Catalan self-government, which Franco had suppressed. At the time, the provision of institutional guarantees for these nationalities was seen as a requirement of justice meant to correct decades of persecution. The Basque Country and the semi-Basque region of Navarre emerged from the transition with an important privilege. They collect their own taxes. From this revenue they transfer an amount to Madrid and use the rest as they see fit. Fiscal independence in the hands of a responsible government led to a clear improvement in the Basque standard of living and, and, not incidentally, to a certain insulation from the current crisis. Catalonia, with a larger economy, was denied that privilege. In fact the opposite occurred: its economy was made hostage to a state that, under the pretext of redistribution, severely impaired its growth and development.  Since Franco’s death, Catalonia’s leading position within Spain and its capacity to compete globally (it still accounts for 25% of all Spanish exports) have been eroded through an unfair fiscal burden and hostile decisions in matters of territorial development. Year after year, Spain’s government has defaulted on the execution of public works approved for Catalonia in the former's budget, thus retarding the latter's modernization and straining its finances to the breaking point.  Rajoy’s government will not even honor the state’s appropriations for Catalonia mandated by current fiscal law. In a display of cynical reason, the central Spanish government now blames regional governments for Spain’s public debt, obscuring the fact that the combined debt of the 17 autonomous communities is only 16% of the total, while that of the central government accounts for 76%. The remaining 8% is municipal debt. By shifting the responsibility for the crisis to the regional governments, Rajoy is patently using the current emergency as an opportunity to dismantle the structure of regional autonomy enshrined in Spain's current constitution.  The result of course would be to abrogate the limited degree of self-government that Spain only grudgingly conceded to Catalonia in the former's hour of democratic need.

As usual, propaganda is based on plausibility. It is true that Spain’s system of regional governments is costly, and a revision is long overdue. Most autonomous communities were invented ad hoc by the central government for the purpose of generalizing the autonomy principle and dissolving Catalonia’s historic claim to autonomy within a so-called “autonomous common regime” that as popularized at the time as “coffee for all.”  While history required the articulation of a state with two or three autonomous regions based on tangible cultural differences, Madrid’s politicians created 17 “autonomous communities” by administrative fiat. And since Madrid was unwilling to slim down the state’s bureaucracy, parallel administrations were created, adding to the cost of government. Since the beginning, the unwieldy system of “autonomous governments” was financed through the transfer of funds from the most productive to the least productive regions with a regularity and volume that ended up crippling the donors. These have been, with predictable monotony, the regions on the Mediterranean seaboard that possess a distinct culture and language: Catalonia, Valencia, and the Balearic Islands. So striking is the fiscal imbalance that for decades Spanish governments have refused to publicize the figures, even though this refusal constitutes the violation of a standing congressional order to make them available. But how the cookie crumbles is made evident by the president of Extremadura’s admission that a new fiscal deal for Catalonia would be catastrophic for his region. Catalonia suffers from a political paradox. As a “wealthy region” in a “poor country,” it never benefited from the European structural and cohesion funds of which Spain was the largest recipient, but instead became a net contributor on a level higher than France. Economists calculate that the Catalan fiscal deficit, that is, the percentage by which taxation exceeds allocations, rests anywhere between 8 and 10% of Catalonia’s GDP (roughly $20 billion annually for a region of 7,000,000 people.) Over time, the magnitude of such siphoning of resources impacts an economy, leading to obsolescent infrastructure, the impoverishment of the service sector, the deterioration of the educational system, and the inevitable loss of competitiveness. Catalonia’s public debt in 2011 was $52 billion, approximately 20.7% of the Catalan GDP. Two and a half years of a balanced fiscal relation with the rest of Spain would have sufficed to mop up all Catalan public debt.

Spain’s troubles were political before they became financial, but politicians will not resolve them. The country needs to be further integrated into the European structure through a common fiscal policy and a commonly regulated banking system; more importantly however, Spain needs to be politically accountable to Brussels and meet European standards of justice and democratic procedure.  This would do much to bring about economic rationality. A country on the brink of default cannot afford to build unprofitable fast-speed trains to provincial destinations, boondoggle expressways in a radial system stemming from Madrid, or airports without air traffic.  Nor should it insist on an extravagant freight train route that requires drilling through the thick of the Pyrenees instead of building a cheaper and commercially sensible coastal itinerary, a plan that, without Brussels' better judgement, the Spanish government would have rejected for the ostensible purpose of isolating Barcelona’s harbor, the busiest in Spain.  The senseless megalomania and castigation of specific territories cannot be explained along traditional ideological lines — such projects have been developed by socialists and conservatives alike — but by long-term cultural continuities. The recent bout of megalomania was buoyed by billions in structural funds, while the territorial grievances, notorious to anyone who is conversant with Spanish history, went on as before, shielded by Spain’s membership in the core Western institutions.

Spain would gain much from trading sovereignty for rationality, and from being forced to invest for economic rather than merely symbolic payoff. A dishonored monarchy, a politicized justice, and a corrupt party system are as much toxic assets as those the banks hold, and if intervention is inevitable, the discipline mandated from outside ought to touch the country to the quick. If and when Brussels decides to put the Iberian house in order, it ought to recognize which administrations have practiced fiscal restraint and are capable, under good governance, of meeting European standards. Spain could well be the last ditch of the European monetary union and of the political union itself. But timely political reform in Spain could be the last opportunity not only to keep the country within the EU but also to hold it together as a meaningful political project.