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Names: Bussell, Jennifer, 1975– author. Title: Clients and constituents : political responsiveness in patronage democracies / Jennifer Bussell. Description: New York, NY : Oxford University Press, [2019] | Includes bibliographical references. Identifiers: LCCN 2018048645 (print) | LCCN 2019012888 (ebook) | ISBN 9780190945411 (Universal PDF) | ISBN 9780190945428 (Electronic Publication) | ISBN 9780190945398 (hardback : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780190945404 (pbk. : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Patronage, Political—India. | Patron and client—India. | Democracy—India. | India—Politics and government. Classification: LCC JQ281 (ebook) | LCC JQ281 .B87 2019 (print) | DDC 324.2/04—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018048645
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Hardback printed by Bridgeport National Bindery, Inc., United States of America For my most treasured constituents, Thad, Thalia, and Clio Contents
List of Tables ix List of Figures xi Preface and Acknowledgments xiii
PART I : The Puzzle of Constituency Service
1. Introduction: Representation, Distribution, and Constituency Service 3
2. Political Responsiveness in a Patronage Democracy 38
3. The Provision of Constituency Service 71
PART II : The Sources of Constituency Service
4. Clients or Constituents? A Theory of Assistance in Patronage
Democracies 95
5. Access to Services in a Patronage Democracy: The Case of India 134
6. Partisan Targeting and Local Distributive Politics 168
7. Local Blocking and Appeals for Assistance 202
8. Partisanship, the Personal Vote, and Constituency Service 226
viii Contents
9. Which Politicians Respond? 243
10. When Is Responsiveness Partisan Bias? 265
PART III : The Significance of Constituency Service
11. Constituency Service in Comparative Perspective 295
12. Conclusion: Constrained Accountability in Patronage Democracies 315
Appendix 335 Bibliography 351 Index 367 List of Tables
1.1 Original Data Sources 34
2.1 Politicians Spend 1/5 to 1/3 of Their Time Attending to Citizens 52 2.2 Citizens Are the Predominant Type of Visitor to All Politicians 54 2.3 Citizens Request Assistance with Particularistic Benefits from High-Level Politicians 58 2.4 Local Intermediaries Are Less Likely than Individuals to Request Assistance from High-Level Politicians for Particularistic Benefits 59 2.5 High-Level Politicians Receive All Types of Requests 60 3.1 Factorial Design of Field Experiment: Treatments with Allocation of Subjects and Messages 77 5.1 Overview: Service Provision in the Indian Political System 144 6.1 Local Politicians Spend 1/3 of Their Time Attending to Citizens 183 6.2 Citizens Are the Predominant Type of Visitor to Local Politicians 184 6.3 Citizens Request Assistance with Distributive Benefits from Local Council Politicians 185 6.4 Perceptions of Local Council President Partisanship Differ across States and Respondent Groups 191 6.5 The Relationship between Co-Partisanship with Local Council President and Receipt of Benefits Differs across States and Benefits 196 6.6 Effect of Co-Partisanship with Local Council President Differs across States 200 x List of Tables
7.1 Non-Co-Partisans of Local Politicians Make More Total
Appeals 209 7.2 Partisan Ties Are Strongly Associated with a Higher Total Number of Appeals (multivariate analysis) 211 7.3 Non-Co-Partisans of Local Politicians Make More Appeals to High-Level Politicians 216 7.4 Local Partisan Ties Are Strongly Associated with Appeals to High-Level Politicians (multivariate analysis) 217 7.5 High-Level Politicians Are More Successful than Local Officials in Providing Assistance 223 8.1 Politician Responses to Local Blocking Information Are Strongest in States with a Long History of Local Elected Councils 239 9.1 Economic Conditions Most Strongly Predict State-Level Responsiveness to Individual Requests 250 9.2 Being in the Opposition Is Most Consistent Predictor of Responsiveness 254 10.1 High-Level Politicians Receive Group-Oriented Requests Primarily for Public Infrastructure 269 10.2 High-Level Politicians Spend Constituency Development Funds Primarily on Public Infrastructure 276 10.3 MLALADS Projects Are More Likely Near Polling Stations that Strongly Supported the Legislator 282 10.4 MLALADS Total Spending Is Higher Near Polling Stations that Strongly Supported the Legislator 284 10.5 Use of Targeted Allocation and Constituency Service Differs by Politician in Karnataka 288 10.6 The Same Politician-Level Characteristics Are Not Correlated with Both Group-and Individual-Level Responsiveness 289 List of Figures
1.1 Conceptualizing Constituency Service in
Nonprogrammatic Politics 20 3.1 Information on Electoral Behavior Does Not Affect Politician Responsiveness 82 3.2 Information on Electoral Behavior Does Not Affect Substantive Responsiveness 85 3.3 Information on Electoral Behavior Does Not Affect Requests to Call or Meet 85 4.1 How Local Blocking Generates Appeals 112 4.2 High-Level Politicians’ Preferences Over Modes of Distribution 119 5.1 High-Level Politicians Have the Most Power to Transfer Bureaucrats 152 5.2 High-Level Politicians Have the Most Power to Transfer All Types of Bureaucrats 153 5.3 High-Level Politicians Perceived to Have Power to Allocate, Relative to Formal Sources of Authority 159 8.1 Information on the Personal Vote Marginally Affects Politician Responsiveness, Relative to Partisan Vote 229 8.2 Information on Past Vote for Politician Weakly Affects Substantive Responsiveness 230 8.3 Information on Past Vote for Politician Affects Requests to Call or Meet 231 8.4 Electoral Treatments Alleviate Negative Effects of Local Blocking Treatment 234 8.5 Electoral Treatments Improve Responsiveness to Local Blocking Treatments in States with Strong Local Partisanship 237 xii List of Figures
8.6 Electoral Treatments Do Not Affect Responsiveness to
Local Blocking Treatments in States with Weak Local Partisanship 237 8.7 Under Local Blocking Treatment with No Information on Electoral Behavior, Responsiveness Decreases in States with Longer History of Local Elected Councils 240 9.1 Response Rates Vary Substantially across India’s States 245 9.2 Overall Responsiveness to Messages Varies across Politicians 246 9.3 Responsiveness Increases with Level of Turnout 256 9.4 Responsiveness Is Highest with Small Plurality and Narrow Majority Vote Shares 256 9.5 Responsiveness Displays Mixed Relationship with Vote Margin 257 9.6 Responsiveness Increases with Level of Education 261 9.7 Upper Castes Are Most Responsive Overall 261 10.1 The Type of Good Requested Affects the Substance of Politicians’ Responses 272 10.2 Politicians Allocate Projects Near Polling Stations that Voted for Them 279 10.3 Politicians Spend More Near Polling Stations that Voted for Them 280 11.1 Many Democracies Have Significant Public Employment and Discretion in Service Delivery 298 11.2 Access to Public Services Varies across Patronage Democracies 301 11.3 Demand for Intermediation Is Substantial across Patronage Democracies 302 11.4 Politicians and Parties in Most Patronage Democracies Induce Voters with Preferential Benefits 304 11.5 Individuals across Africa Report Having Contacted Their Legislator for Assistance 306 11.6 Individuals across Latin America Report Having Contacted Their Legislator for Assistance 308 Preface and Acknowledgments
During the final stage of fieldwork for my first book, I interviewed a
state legislator in Bangalore, in the Indian state of Karnataka. Approaching his home office, I encountered a stunning number of individuals gathered outside his residence; the line of waiting people trailed down the driveway and out onto the sidewalk. Naïvely, I asked my contact who had accompanied me: “What are all of these people doing here?” His answer was straight- forward: “They are coming to ask the MLA [Member of the Legislative Assembly] for help.” This seemingly simple response only raised more questions in my mind. For what had they come to ask? What sorts of people had chosen to make petitions to him? Why approach a high-level state legislator, and not someone lower down in the political hierarchy—who, I assumed, might be easier to ac- cess? To what extent did this elected official actually abet these citizens? And how did such direct assistance square with existing accounts of political rep- resentation and distributive politics in places such as India—which do not typically depict such apparent responsiveness of powerful politicians to their constituents? I was not able to resolve these questions at the time, but they stuck with me, and I set out to answer them in many intervening years of re- search. I lay out the results in this book. I have accumulated numerous debts along the way, which I can only begin to repay by acknowledging them here. Given this origin story, it is appropriate first to thank Ram Manohar Shanthaveri, who kindly introduced me to this particular state legislator, among others, and, in so doing, helped set me down the path that led to this book. I am grateful to many others in India who played a vital role in this research, especially the many politicians, citizens, and bureaucrats who agreed to be interviewed, shadowed, or surveyed. I am also particularly grateful to Bhartendu Trivedi, Kamini Sahu, Deepali Agrahari, and others at MORSEL Research and Development for crucial work on xiv Preface and Acknowledgments
the surveys and shadowing. Similarly, I am deeply indebted to Yashwant
Deshmukh, Gaura Shukla, and the team at CVOTER for their superb work on my India-wide field experiment. In addition, I thank Alok Srivastava and the Centre for Media Studies for access to individual-level data from the India Corruption Studies. This research benefited from the assistance of many student researchers at the University of California, Berkeley. For their outstanding work through the Undergraduate Research Apprenticeship Program (URAP), I am grateful to Dhrushil Badani, Raniz Bordoloi, Derek Chin, Jeff Gong, Samed Jain, Vaibhav Srikaran, and Jasmine Virk. I also want to recognize the stellar contributions of multiple Berkeley graduate students, including Anustubh Agnihotri, Bhumi Purohit, and Melanie Thompson. I offer sincere thanks to the scholars who took the time to read the full manu- script (in one version or another) and provide comments. For their keen insights, I am particularly grateful to Kanchan Chandra, Justin Grimmer, Anirudh Krishna, Daniel Posner, and Steven Wilkinson, as well as my Berkeley colleagues Ruth Collier, Alison Post, and Steven Vogel, who all participated in a book workshop supported by UC Berkeley’s Institute of International Studies. I am also thankful for the three anonymous reviewers at Cambridge University Press and Oxford University Press, who made remarkably thoughtful and constructive critiques that led, I believe, to substantial improvements in the manuscript. In addition, I want to thank my editor, David McBride, and the Oxford Modern South Asia series editor, Ashutosh Varshney, for their support and enthusiasm for the project. Thanks also to Emily Mackenzie of Oxford University Press and Asish Krishna of Newgen Knowledge Works, for overseeing the editing and production processes, and to Thom Lessner for the cover artwork. This book is markedly better for all of these inputs. Various parts of the book also received generous feedback from participants in panels and workshops of the American Political Science Association, the Annual Conference on South Asia, the Asian Studies Association, Brown University, the Center for the Advanced Study of India (University of Pennsylvania), the Center on the Politics of Development (UC Berkeley), the Evidence in Governance and Politics (EGAP) network, the Goldman School of Public Policy (UC Berkeley), the Institute for South Asian Studies (UC Berkeley), Stanford University, the University of California, San Diego; and the University of Pennsylvania. Thanks especially to Claire Adida, Kate Baldwin, Prashant Bharadwaj, Jean Bussell, Karen Ferree, Miriam Golden, Saad Gulzar, Daniel Hidalgo, Guy Grossman, Akhil Gupta, Devesh Kapur, Preface and Acknowledgments xv
Horatio Larreguy, Jo Burr Margadant, Karthik Muralidharan, Simeon
Nichter, Irfan Nooruddin, Daniel Posner, Amanda Robinson, Sandip Suktankhar, Dawn Teele, Ashutosh Varshney, and Rebecca Weitz-Shapiro for their welcome insights. Special thanks to the members of the Berkeley Junior Faculty Lunch group, as well as the members of the short-lived but wonderful Berkeley South Asia Writing Group—Francesca Jensenius, Gareth Nellis, Maya Tudor, and Pavithra Suryanarayan. I am also grateful for stellar comments on several chapters to participants in my graduate and undergrad- uate seminars on political representation and distributive politics. This project has spanned my three institutional homes—the University of Texas, Austin; Yale University; and UC Berkeley—and received financial support from the Institute of International Studies (UC Berkeley) and the Policy Research Institute (UT Austin). I feel so lucky to have been warmly welcomed at each place, and I thank all of my colleagues for their collegi- ality and support. I am especially grateful to Sarah Anzia, Leo Arriola, Henry Brady, Josh Busby, Pradeep Chhibber, David Collier, Ruth Collier, Allen Dafoe, Thad Dunning, Zachary Elkins, Angela Evans, Avi Feller, Sean Gailmard, Jack Glaser, Hilary Hoynes, Susan Hyde, Gabe Lenz, Amy Lerman, Elizabeth Linos, Karuna Mantena, Aila Matanock, Michaela Mattes, Jane Mauldon, Joel Middleton, Cecilia Mo, Alison Post, Robert Powell, Varun Rai, Victoria Rodriguez, Susan Rose-Ackerman, Eric Schickler, Sudha Shetty, Kalyanakrishnan Sivaramakrishnan, Laura Stoker, Susan Stokes, Chandler Stolp, Tariq Thachil, Steven Vogel, Peter Ward, Kate Weaver, Steven Wilkinson, Robert Wilson, and Jason Wittenberg. I am extremely fortunate to be part of a remarkable community of scholars currently conducting comparative politics research on India, and South Asia more generally. I cannot imagine a smarter, more generous, and more colle- gial cohort. In particular, I thank Adam Auerbach, Anjali Bohlken, Rachel Brulé, Simon Chauchard, Nikhar Gaikwad, Francesca Jensenius, Gabrielle Kruks-Wisner, Gareth Nellis, Irfan Nooruddin, Mark Schneider, Prerna Singh, Neelanjan Sircar, Pavithra Suryanarayan, Tariq Thachil, Maya Tudor, Milan Vaishnav, Gilles Vernier, and Adam Ziegfeld for their excellent feed- back and delightful camaraderie. An additional shout-out to Francesca and Gilles for the amazing public goods they have provided in diverse and de- tailed subnational data on India. For their guidance and leadership, I am also sincerely grateful to Kanchan Chandra, Pradeep Chhibber, Devesh Kapur, Anirudh Krishna, Aseema Sinha, Ashutosh Varshney, and Steven Wilkinson. While this research took place after completing graduate school, I re- main always thankful for the support, from nearby or afar, of my cell of the xvi Preface and Acknowledgments
“Berkeley mafia.” Sending out the warmest wishes (and hopes for a CAPER reunion) to, among others, Naazneen Barma, Margaret Boittin, Rebecca Chen, Naomi Choi, Miguel de Figueiredo, Thad Dunning, Brent Durbin, Jill Greenlee, Rebecca Hamlin, Amy Lerman, Naomi Levy, Jessica Rich, Regine Spector, and Sarah Snip Stroup. My most profound thanks go to my family. My parents, Jean and Harold Bussell, make so many things possible, especially now that I am also a working parent. For their love, inspiration, and generosity, not to mention childcare services at more academic conferences than they probably care to count, I am immensely grateful. My siblings Kim Fields, Mark Bussell, and Scott Bussell (R.I.P.), and their families, have exhibited remarkable patience, sense(s) of humor, and tolerance for their academic sister. My in-laws among the Dunnings and Margadants—my “family-in-love”—have welcomed me in the most heartfelt way, and I am so enriched by their presence in my life. My chil- dren, who were mere sparkles in our eyes at the start of this project, are now the center and heart of my life: Thalia and Clio, you are the most delightful of miracles. Finally, my partner, Thad, who has been with me every step, is an extraordinary companion in all aspects of life. My love and gratitude know no bounds. Clients and Constituents PA RT I
The Puzzle of Constituency Service
1
Introduction Representation, Distribution, and Constituency Service
A newly minted legislator in the Indian state of Assam, on the first
morning back in his constituency, dreamt that flies circled his head. When he woke, his dream had passed, and so had the flies—but a loud buzzing sound persisted. Curious, he arose and looked out his window at the court- yard of his home, where he saw around one hundred individuals chatting in the dawn light. The din was substantial as they awaited their chance to seek his personal intervention on behalf of their individual claims for public goods and services.1 On a different morning in Delhi, India, another legislator arrived to his office to find multiple visitors already waiting in the intense summer heat. Over the course of the next few hours, he received them in his office and entertained petitions for assistance with school admissions, scholarships, old age pensions, character certificates, problems with the local state- subsidized food shop, opening a government bank account, getting an operation in a public hospital, attaining a “below poverty line” card, and attending to a tree blocking a power line. He listened to each petitioner’s request and made some effort to help, be it by signing the required form, calling a responsible party, or providing additional information on how to acquire the service.2
1. Personal interview, April 22, 2016.
2. Observations from shadowing of politicians, Respondent F. I describe this methodology in Chapter 2 and Online Appendix B. 4 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
Visitors would encounter similar scenes at the homes and offices of
politicians throughout India—and indeed, throughout many parts of the de- veloping world. Legislators often have set times when they welcome petitioners, typically sitting in an open area to receive guests, and keeping an assistant on hand to quickly place a call, draft a letter, or complete a form. Citizens can thus come directly to their representative to make appeals. When their turn arrives, individuals deliver requests; politicians determine the appropriate next steps and often undertake them immediately, so as to work through the multitude of demands in as efficient and responsive a manner as possible. As I show in this book, providing such assistance is in fact a predominant activity of many elected officials in India. The politicians we will meet in these pages not only pass legislation, receive party workers, and visit sites in their constituencies; to a significant extent, they interact with individual constituents on a regular basis and facilitate citizens’ access to fundamental benefits and services of the state. Perhaps surprisingly, this is true of high-level politicians— defined as those representatives with large constituencies who are unlikely to know most of their constituents personally—as well as local politicians who, as a result of considerably smaller constituencies, are more likely already to know those individuals requesting help. State and national legislators habitually ded- icate large portions of a typical day to interacting with individual constituents, and frequently engage in “complaint handling,” such that “when people need help, they go to their legislator.”3 Such direct interactions with citizens— rather than with intermediaries, party workers, businessmen, or bureaucrats— comprise more than two-thirds of politicians’ meetings.4 Direct assistance to constituents is substantially prevalent in many other developing regions as well. As I document, face-to-face contact between cit- izens and high-level politicians is common across many African and Latin American countries.5 National legislators frequently receive tens or hundreds of requests from individual constituents on any given day.6 Data from these re- gions also suggest considerable responsiveness to citizens’ requests: politicians report that providing assistance to individual citizens is among their most
3. The first quotation is from Mohapatra (1976), the second from Chopra (1996: 102). See also Maheshwari 1976. 4. See “The burden of responsiveness,” Chapter 2. 5. See “Politician-citizen interaction in patronage democracies,” Chapter 11. 6. Afrobarometer 2008, Latinobarómetro 2008; see “Politician-citizen interaction in pa- tronage democracies,” Chapter 11. Introduction 5
important activities, and some employ multiple individuals to respond to
constituents’ appeals.7 For citizens, such personal assistance from high-level politicians can pro- vide a crucial form of access to the state. In many developing countries, large portions of the population are unable to access public services, due both to inefficiencies and irregularities in bureaucratic processes and to discrimi- nation in the assistance offered by politicians and bureaucrats at low levels of government. As a result, many individuals request help from high-level politicians with access to particularistic benefits—often, precisely the same types of services and benefits that other types of intermediaries, often at the local level, are frequently thought to facilitate. Such appeals thus constitute an important element of citizens’ strategies to acquire public goods and services. Politicians not only listen to their constituents’ entreaties but also help them overcome bureaucratic bottlenecks to obtain benefits. In the Indian case, sub- stantial proportions of citizens report success in obtaining their desired ben- efit when assisted by high-level officials.8 In this manner, tens of millions of citizens receive assistance with acquiring critical basic services.9 The benefits that citizens receive through such petitions can constitute a substantial share of overall public welfare spending. As I describe in this book, high-level politicians in places such as India often influence the allocation of significant resources. Using new data sources, I estimate that the portion of benefits directed to individual citizens via high-level assistance constitutes a similar, and possibly larger, share of overall public welfare spending than those forms of distributive politics on which scholars have predominantly focused—including the clientelism and partisan bias that I will discuss shortly.10 Legislators in many other developing countries have similarly ample personal control over resources, due to influence over local officials and other factors. Strikingly, as I also show in this book, high-level politicians often respond to constituents’ petitions in a remarkably equitable manner. By this I mean that it is often infeasible for politicians to make their assistance contingent
7. UNDP and IPU 2012; Barkin and Mattes 2014; personal interview with former staff member of Colombian senator. 8. See “Do appeals to high-level politicians resolve citizens’ problems?” in Chapter 7 and also Gupta 2017. 9. See “The value of responsiveness,” Chapter 2. 10. See below and Chapter 2. 6 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
on individual citizens’ attributes or their past or future political behaviors.
Drawing on evidence from qualitative shadowing of politicians in India, quantitative surveys of Indian politicians, and large-scale field experiments with both citizens and politicians, I demonstrate that in interactions with individual constituents, high-level politicians often do not premise their re- sponsiveness on citizens’ political preferences, ethnicity, or other attributes. To a remarkable degree, even indicators of citizens’ partisan preferences do not affect representatives’ willingness to provide direct assistance. Instead, politicians appear more responsive, and substantially more willing to help cit- izens of all kinds, than many theories of distributive politics—defined as the process by which decisions are made about the allocation of government re- sources across a population—would predict. In this way, I provide in this book an account of the constituency service— noncontingent, nonpartisan attention to the needs of citizens—offered by high-level politicians in many democratic developing countries.11 By intervening in distributive processes, politicians often engage in “mediation from above,” exerting pressure on bureaucratic underlings to facilitate citi- zens’ access to services and benefits. For citizens, these efforts offer a crucial source of assistance with the often-difficult process of accessing fundamental benefits from state welfare schemes. This assistance is thus an important mode of distributing state resources. Constituency service is also a key element of representation, acting as an important form of “service responsiveness.”12 Those individuals who have difficulty accessing benefits from the state can ap- peal to their elected representatives for assistance; by responding to the needs of these constituents, high-level politicians “represent” them to the state. In doing so, elected representatives respond to the interests of those citizens who might otherwise be excluded from individual-level public services and bring them within the distributive fold. These direct exchanges between politicians and their constituents may ap- pear similar to dynamics observed in western democracies. As Fenno notes in his account of state legislators’ behavior in the United States, “Constituent service [is] universally recognized as an important part of the job in its own right.”13 A former Canadian member of Parliament offers his own ac- count: “As citizens showed up in my constituency office with their tales of
passports delayed, visas withheld, tax files mislaid, my staff and I would pick up the phone and try to help.”14 Similarly, in 1960s Ireland, there was an ex- pectation among citizens that a legislator would, if asked, “give advice on any problem, help prepare applications to public authorities, and make inquiries, submissions, representations or appeals not only for those who vote for him but for anyone in the constituency and particularly his own district.”15 Yet, this type of interaction is also perplexing in a “patronage democracy” such as India—defined as a country where the state is a primary source of resources, but official distribution is often extensive, inefficient, and discre- tionary.16 A wealth of research on distributive politics in such contexts—most commonly in economically developing countries—suggests that politicians target state goods and services tactically for electoral advantage.17 For ex- ample, they may direct group-oriented goods to particular geographic areas, responding to the interests—and electoral support—of specific factions within their constituencies. Politicians in patronage democracies may have substantially greater capacity to influence the distribution of resources than in settings where the rules of distribution are relatively binding; and they may aim to use this discretion to mobilize turnout among core supporters or to persuade swing voters.18 Direct resource distribution by high-level politicians is thus both contingent and partisan. Alternatively, according to many existing accounts, politicians may allo- cate resources indirectly, using clientelist strategies. Thus, political parties delegate to local- level intermediaries or “brokers” the responsibility of targeting state services to maximize electoral payoffs. Due to their proximity to citizens, such operatives can facilitate the mobilization of voters and the monitoring of political behavior. Beneficiaries are in turn expected to vote with their local intermediary’s party, either because benefits are granted in an explicit quid pro quo for electoral support or because citizens seek to boost
14. Ignatieff 2013: 104.
15. Chubb 1963: 276. 16. Chandra 2004, 2009. 17. Kramon and Posner 2013: 461. 18. See, e.g., Cox and McCubbins 1986, Lindbeck and Weibull 1987, Dixit and Londregan 1996, Porto and Sanguinetti 2001, Chandra 2004, Chhibber and Nooruddin 2004, Wilkinson 2007, Arulampalam et al. 2009, Keefer and Khemani 2009, Baskin and Mezey 2014, and Ejdemyr et al. 2017. Politicians in advanced countries may have substantial capacity to engage in targeted distribution as well, as discussed later; yet the contexts I discuss are characterized by a greater extent of political discretion in policy implementation. 8 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
their intermediary’s capacity to provide future benefits.19 If brokers can mo-
nopolize distribution locally, higher-level politicians may have little choice but to contract with such individuals to ensure a base of electoral support.20 The presence of substantial constituency service in patronage democracies therefore raises a puzzle—and must be explained in light of these alterna- tive tactical uses of politicians’ time and effort. In existing accounts, high- level politicians have little incentive to assist individual citizens directly. After all, national or provincial legislators have large constituencies—an average Indian state assembly constituency has around three hundred thou- sand people—and they cannot readily verify particular petitioners’ histories of political support. Unlike local politicians, such as a village council pres- ident who typically has five thousand constituents living in a few adjacent villages, high-level politicians often cannot have a strong sense of individual citizens’ political preferences or choices. Nor, especially, may they effectively condition the provision of benefits on petitioners’ future behaviors. The di- rect provision of assistance to individuals likewise does not readily appear to provide the opportunity to target sets of core supporters or persuadable swing voters with group-oriented goods. Providing such assistance may appear to be a highly inefficient mode of targeting, one that does not easily scale from individual voters to aggregate support. The great range of other distributive strategies available in patronage democracies might seem to foreclose the elec- toral usefulness of such assistance. Perhaps for these reasons, scholars of de- veloping countries have not offered systematic accounts of direct exchanges between high-level politicians and their constituents—which might falsely suggest that their prevalence is low. The pervasiveness of constituency service in patronage democracies thus raises several key questions. Why do politicians with large constituencies, and many demands on their time, pay substantial attention to the requests of individual citizens? Importantly, how do these efforts relate to more fre- quently studied forms of distributive politics—such as the targeted allocation of group-oriented goods or clientelism? What is the nature of the democratic representation to which constituency service gives rise in these contexts? In
19. On clientelism and partisan linkages, see inter alia Auyero 2000, Stokes 2005, Kitschelt and Wilkinson 2007, Nichter 2008, Stokes et al. 2013, and Weitz-Shapiro 2014. For a capacity argument emphasizing the role of traditional authority, see Baldwin 2013. 20. Delegation is not costless for politicians; as Stokes et al. 2013 describe, there are multiple downsides to the principal-agent dynamic associated with brokers, but in many contexts the benefits may be sufficient to offset the costs. I consider the broader implications of these limi- tations below and in Chapter 4. Introduction 9
western democracies, the provision of constituency service is “recognized as
powerful reelection medicine. ‘What political scientists have to understand,’ said one member [of the U.S. Congress], ‘is that an incumbent congressman can get reelected by the services he is in a position to do for the people.’ ”21 Thus, high-level politicians may benefit from offering noncontingent and nonpartisan assistance to their constituents. Yet, in contexts rife with clien- telism and patronage, the electoral advantages of constituency service may appear considerably less, and must be subjected to extensive theoretical and empirical investigation. I argue in this book that high-level politicians in fact have multiple incentives to offer such mediation in a noncontingent manner—and these reasons go beyond those offered to explain constituency service in developed countries. In patronage democracies, the state is a major provider of welfare and other benefits, yet the delivery of such services is often inefficient and highly contingent, making it difficult for even the most needy and eligible individuals to access these resources. If citizens in democracies with less dis- cretionary service delivery still sometimes need the intervention of their representative to speed up a delayed visa or locate a misplaced tax file, this requirement is even greater in patronage democracies, where targeting, ex- clusion, and inefficiency in the delivery of public services often replaces the rule-bound implementation of public policies. The characteristics of patronage democracies thus generate strong demand for informal routes to obtaining services, and for interventions by influential intermediaries—even more so than in settings with less discretion in public service delivery. Existing work indeed highlights the prevalence of alternative paths to accessing benefits. Citizens may resort to petty corruption, including the payment of “speed” money.22 Alternately and critically, intermediation via politicians, “fixers,” or organizations at the local level is also thought to be prevalent.23 Citizens in these contexts have difficulty accessing benefits from the state directly and are therefore expected to rely on more powerful or knowledgeable actors to acquire basic benefits. Yet, there are limitations to these strategies of access from the perspec- tive of citizens. Those individuals who require public benefits the most may well be the least able to offer a compelling bribe to a bureaucrat to acquire
21. Fenno 2003 (1978): 101.
22. See, e.g., CMS/TII 2005, 2008; Bussell 2012. 23. Manor 2000, Berenschot 2010, Witsoe 2012, Kruks-Wisner 2017, 2018. 10 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
their desired service. If, alternatively, a citizen turns to a local broker, he may face the expectation of an electoral quid pro quo. For those who are una- ligned with local officials, their chances of receiving assistance may be sub- stantially reduced. While these individuals might turn to other nonelected local intermediaries or acquaintances, such alternative facilitators of service delivery are often likely to have relatively less power to offer assistance, again limiting the individuals’ chances of success in acquiring benefits. For citizens, this suggests the attractiveness of appealing to powerful politicians who are able to smooth the processes of accessing the state. Those who are denied services locally are the likeliest to make such appeals to high- level politicians for mediation from above. Moreover, especially in contexts in which discretionary allocation takes on a partisan hue, local operatives may tend to target assistance to their own co-partisans, while denying or delaying services to citizens with whom they are not aligned. The discretionary, par- tisan process by which local appeals for service delivery are often denied— what I term local “blocking”—results in a robust demand for assistance from citizens who are not part of local partisan patronage networks. Local blocking can then, in turn, heighten the incentives of high-level politicians to supply assistance to their constituents. Precisely because of the partisan dynamics that often generate such petitions, constituency service can offer a particularly effective model for appealing to those voters who are not integrated into local clientelist or partisan benefit-delivery networks—and are thus not otherwise able to acquire services. Even if high-level politicians are unable to premise responsiveness on the partisanship or behaviors of in- dividual voters, they may readily make inferences about the types of voters who appeal to them. Constituency service gives them a way to reach potential supporters who are locally blocked by high-level politicians’ non-co-partisans, or even those who are ill-served by their local co-partisan brokers. The uneven reach of partisan bias in these contexts thus engenders the electoral utility of this complementary mode of distribution—making constituency service possibly even more useful to high-level politicians than in the nonpatronage democracies for which the concept was initially conceived. These dynamics generate specific motivations for responsiveness in an- other way as well. Provision of aid to citizens who are often substantially in need of benefits from the state but have difficulty accessing them may offer higher levels of appreciation among those who receive help than in other contexts. Moreover, by meeting a substantial unmet demand for assistance, high-level politicians can build a positive reputation among exactly those citizens who are particularly responsive to receiving assistance—including Introduction 11
potentially persuadable swing voters and those who, having been blocked lo- cally on partisan grounds, may be especially receptive to an inherently non- partisan act of assistance from a high-level politician. This can increase the chances that an individual will remain supportive of a particular politician, or shift to support that politician, on the basis of receiving assistance. As in many developed countries, constituency service allows politicians to improve their individual reputations and foster a personal vote, or a base of voters who sup- port a politician on the basis of that candidate’s individual character and acts, rather than an association with a particular political party.24 Yet, the poten- tial to build this personal vote through constituency service may be strongest precisely when partisan linkages are also strong and local service denials take place along partisan lines. Helping individual citizens may therefore be even more relevant to high-level politicians’ reputations in such contexts than in less discretionary domains. The value of constituency service to elected politicians must therefore be viewed alongside other potential forms of distributive politics—and, in par- ticular, the limitations of those other strategies. In the allocation of govern- ment funds to support localized projects in a single electoral district, such as roads, community buildings, or water treatment plants—the substance of what we typically understand as pork-barrel politics—politicians have the advantage of being able to reward key groups or areas within their constitu- ency that have offered significant past support. At the same time, few areas are populated solely by core or swing supporters, and it is rare that all supporters live in areas that have voted predominantly for a given politician or party. As a result, politicians cannot ensure that they are targeting only their supporters or all of their supporters when distributing group-oriented goods. Similarly, the uneven nature of local clientelist intermediation—and the tendency of intermediaries to channel benefits to their partisan supporters—implies a set of under-attended individuals in most constituencies. Constituency service can provide a potent means for politicians to target these excluded voters, who are likely to be swing voters or, depending on local electoral dynamics, co-partisans of more senior politicians. Even if they do not and cannot condition assistance on individual petitioners’ partisanship, politicians can realize that in the aggregate, constituency service is an effective way of reaching potentially persuadable voters—and it may provide an alternative or
24. Cain, Ferejohn, and Fiorina 1987.
12 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
complementary strategy that compensates for the weaknesses of other modes
of distributive politics. Thus, constituency service offers electoral benefits to politicians that ac- crue despite officials’ limited ability to target assistance directly on the basis of individual citizens’ political preferences or behaviors. This is also not to say that the provision of assistance is done only for strategic reasons. Politicians may well offer citizens aid on the basis of altruistic intentions and a sense of representative responsibility. Indeed, the evidence offered in this book suggests that many politicians are less venal and more other-regarding than political scientists may typically perceive them to be. At the same time, I focus here on the specifically electoral motivations, for which there is sub- stantial evidence, and which help to explain several otherwise puzzling em- pirical patterns. I show that one need not depart from electoral motivations on the part of politicians to understand constituency service in patronage democracies. Yet, this explanatory focus complements my broader finding that politicians often behave in a more responsive and representative fashion than prevailing theories have supposed. These dynamics of distributive politics also exhibit a much more inher- ently multilevel nature—with interactions between elected officials and bureaucrats across multiple offices—than has previously been identified. Some research suggests that local-level actors are delegated the authority to make distributive decisions that affect individuals, while high-level politicians are focused on targeting group-oriented goods to particular geographic areas of their constituencies. In either case, the prevalent assumption is that allocations are made in a highly partisan manner.25 We will instead observe in this book a more integrated set of dynamics in which the activities of actors at the local level have direct effects on the demands for assistance from higher- level elected officials—and thereby shape the incentives of these officials to respond to such requests, largely in a noncontingent manner. Consequently, while the dynamics of patronage democracies might in- itially seem to make constituency service unlikely, I argue that a particular kind of constituency service emerges in part because of those dynamics. To be sure, politicians who respond to their constituents in a noncontingent, non- partisan way are also likely to target resources via more partisan strategies. For example, they may prefer to provide individual assistance to known party workers. And as I show, the same politicians who engage in constituency
25. See, inter alia, Cox and McCubbins 1986, Dixit and Londregan 1996, Auyero 2000, Arulampalam et al. 2009, Stokes et al. 2013. Introduction 13
service also undertake partisan distribution of group-oriented state resources.
Politicians target group-based benefits tactically, especially toward their core supporters; and they take advantage of local networks of partisan brokers when they can. However, they also provide direct assistance to individual constituents, particularly for certain kinds of benefits and especially when they cannot rely on effective delegation to local intermediaries. As I demon- strate in this book, constituency service in fact constitutes a critical element of distributive politics and a key facet of political representation. This argument, to which I return in more detail in Chapter 4, therefore highlights a considerably more complex politics of distribution than has pre- viously been ascribed to patronage democracies. I offer an amendment to par- tisanship-driven accounts of democratic representation, suggesting that while contingent exchanges do exist in these contexts, they occur in tandem and in interaction with forms of constituency service that have gone largely unno- ticed and untheorized in analyses of distributive politics. High-level politicians, rather than always engaging in partisan distribution of benefits, also dedicate a substantial part of their time and resources to assisting individual citizens in ways that are not dependent on the specific electoral behaviors of those re- ceiving assistance. Because the demand for this assistance arises both from the inefficiencies of the state in which high-level legislators are embedded and from the prevalence of discretionary distribution, we must understand legislators’ incentives for responsiveness as therefore deeply intertwined with the dynamics of contingent allocation. Alongside pork-barrel politics and clientelism, con- stituency service is an important element of politicians’ overall distributional and representational repertoires, and our accounts of distributive politics must be substantially enriched by consideration of the ways in which politicians pro- vide noncontingent direct assistance to their constituents. More generally, this book suggests the potential for an underappreciated form of representative democratic politics in patronage democracies. To un- derstand the normative as well as positive consequences of constituency serv ice in patronage democracies, it is critical to assess the kind of responsiveness that constituency service implies. The nature of democratic representation constitutes a core focus in the study of political science. In developed coun- tries, debates often center on the relative allocation of politicians’ time and re- sources to nonpartisan constituency service versus demands for group-based benefits and attention to specific policy arenas.26 While there is considerable
26. Ashworth and Bueno de Mesquita 2006, Griffin and Flavin 2011, Harden 2013, Grimmer 2013. 14 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
debate over the drivers of variation in allocation, the fundamental underlying
principle that responsiveness is based on some version of democratic account- ability goes frequently unchallenged. In developing countries, by contrast, the prevailing view of allocation is one based on partisan ties and, often, cli- entelism, resulting in a form of “perverse accountability” that threatens the foundations of democratic representation.27 I rather suggest that politicians in these latter contexts engage in practices that generate not only perverse but also genuinely democratic—if constrained—accountability of represent- atives to their constituents. The implications for our understanding of dem- ocratic practice merit substantial attention that they have not yet received.
The concept of constituency service
The analysis in this book requires a novel set of conceptual, theoretical, and empirical approaches. Conceptually, in treatments of distributive politics, constituency service has effectively been assigned to a “residual” category of politician behavior; and its status as a form of representation has been un- clear.28 Yet, successful theoretical and empirical study of constituency service requires a prior conceptual approach that situates constituency service in rela- tion to other modes of representation and distribution. I offer here a new con- ceptualization of distribution types that incorporates the manner by which politicians offer noncontingent assistance to voters. I focus centrally both on understanding the nature of the political responsiveness that constituency service implies, and on its relationships to other forms of distributive politics. Thus, I ask: what kind of representation is constituency service in a patronage democracy? How does the activity of providing noncontingent assistance to citizens—through which individuals gain access to basic benefits and serv- ices of the state—compare conceptually to other modes of distributing valued resources? In the classic conceptual account, Pitkin defines representation as “acting in the interest of the represented, in a manner responsive to them. The rep- resentative must act independently; his action must involve discretion and judgment; he must be the one who acts. The represented must also be (conceived as) capable of independent action and judgment, not merely being
27. Stokes 2005.
28. See, e.g., Stokes et al. 2013, Chapter 1. Introduction 15
taken care of.”29 For a political representative, then, the act of representing may potentially encompass a wide range of activities, insofar as those activi- ties involve “acting in the interest of the represented.”30 To be sure, one might constrain a political representative’s actions to those defined by a constitution or other laws setting out the roles and responsibilities of such actors. Within legal limits, however, there seem to be a host of actions that might feasibly fall under the category of “representation.” As others have noted, Pitkin did not define what makes up the “responsive- ness” she emphasized, leaving empirical researchers to determine an appropriate operationalization of the term.31 Most analyses of representative behavior on the part of elected legislators, in both developed and developing countries, focus on the role of these individuals in making or influencing policy—so-called policy responsiveness. Landmark work by Verba and Nie, as well as Miller and Stokes, focuses on public policies as the primary forum for representatives to engage in responsiveness, and subsequent empirical work has largely followed this lead.32 Yet, the critique offered by Eulau and Karps is a striking one: “In focusing ex- clusively on . . . policy attitudes or preferences, [authors] ignored other possible targets in the relationship between representatives and represented which may also give content to the notion of responsiveness. By emphasizing only one component of responsiveness as a substantive concept, they reduced a complex phenomenon like representation to one of its components and substituted the component for the whole.”33 This concern with the potential elements of responsiveness is important both conceptually and empirically. Conceptually, the idea of responsiveness for elected officials requires a delineation of all the most likely activities that may reasonably merit inclusion as representative acts. Empirically, “if respon- siveness is limited to one component, it cannot capture the complexities of the real world of politics.”34 At least in part, this is because existing research tells us how difficult it is for individual voters to know and communicate their
29. Pitkin 1967: 209.
30. Ibid. 31. Eulau and Karps 1977: 240. 32. Verba and Nie 1972, Miller and Stokes 1963. 33. Eulau and Karps 1977: 240–41. 34. Eulau and Karps 1977: 241. 16 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
preferences about every potential policy.35 As a result, politicians will never
have sufficient information about these preferences to respond with policies in perfect accordance with their constituents’ wishes. Relatedly, Achen and Bartels have recently criticized what they call the “folk theory” of democratic accountability: the idea that voters formulate preferences and communicate them to politicians, who in turn act on those aggregated preferences to enact public policy.36 Purely policy-oriented perspectives additionally make at least two implicit assumptions about the nature of policymaking and policy implementation. First, a policy orientation to representation assumes that all representa- tives have equal ability to influence the character of policy and, thus, can be equally responsive to their constituents’ interests. Yet, a significant majority of legislators typically have only limited, if any, influence over the design of policy, either because they are in the opposition or because they are not on the committee or cabinet that is primarily formulating policy. For this majority, policy responsiveness amounts to posing questions about potential policies during public debates and voting on those policies; the scope to vote in a way that is responsive to constituents may be limited even further by party discipline rules. Second, policy-focused views of responsiveness implicitly assume that once a policy is passed, there is no further opportunity to affect the outcomes of that policy. While this may seem reasonable theoretically, it does not re- flect the realities of policy implementation in most, if not all, representative democracies. Public bureaucracies are tasked with the implementation of policies, and there may be many reasons why politicians might want, or have the opportunity, to influence the character of that implementation in the in- terest of their constituents. Particularly when a bureaucracy often does not implement policies according to the letter of the law, or when the law has im- plicitly (or explicitly) allowed for discretion in the implementation of policy, politicians may have opportunities to address inefficiencies—or take advan- tage of discretion—in policy implementation. In India, for example, there are multiple policy channels for distributing benefits, including subsidies on products such as electricity, provision of low-cost consumables, and creation of employment for millions of individuals through a national work program. Yet it is often in the execution of these policies, rather than in their design,
35. Wahlke 1971.
36. Achen and Bartels 2016. Introduction 17
that decisions over access to benefits are made.37 As Scott noted, “Between the passage of legislation and its actual implementation lies an entirely dif- ferent political arena that, in spite of its informality and particularism, has a great effect on the execution of policy.”38 If elected representatives typically have little room to influence the char- acter of policies, but instead have substantial opportunities to influence how they are enacted, then we might expect a large portion of responsive- ness to involve actions in the realm of shaping implementation. For instance, other recognized forms of responsiveness look very much like strategies for influencing policy implementation. Thus, “service responsiveness” refers to “the efforts of the representative to secure particularized benefits for individuals and groups in his constituency.”39 These efforts most typically concern casework and the solving of problems for individuals in dealing with the bureaucracy. In contrast, “allocation responsiveness” entails interventions in the “allocation of public projects” in ways that proactively result in benefits that may advantage a politician’s constituency.40 Allocation responsiveness is then group-oriented distribution that is closely related to the localized, district-specific projects we commonly refer to as pork-barrel politics. The form of responsiveness at the heart of the discussion in this book is constituency service, which I define, in line with Fenno, as service responsive- ness that does not involve attention to the partisanship or history of political sup- port of the individual or group making a request.41 An offer of constituency service from a politician is contingent on a request being made, a character- istic to which I return in the theoretical discussion of Chapter 4, but it is not contingent on the political behavior of the individual making the request. It is also crucial to underscore that politicians may choose to engage in constit- uency service in order to advance their broader electoral or partisan goals— as indeed they do in the theory that I develop and test in this book. Yet in facilitating the delivery of services to particular citizens, politicians provide constituency service whenever they do not condition their assistance on the partisanship, history of political support, or other attributes of petitioners. While this conceptualization differs from a broader understanding of the term
37. See, e.g., Khera 2011.
38. Scott 1969: 1142. 39. Eulau and Karps 1977: 241. 40. Ibid. 41. Paraphrasing Fenno 2003 (1978): 102. 18 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
occasionally used in comparative politics, my usage retains the noncontingent
basis upon which constituency service is traditionally understood to rest.42 The noncontingency of constituency service is important for both nor- mative and positive reasons. Normatively, constituency service involves direct exchanges between politicians and citizens but need not involve the “perverse accountability” of clientelism, in which politicians hold citizens to account for their behavior rather than the other way around. In contrast, constituency service acts as a conduit for any individual citizen to make demands on their elected representatives. Moreover, if, in assisting constituents, representatives are “acting in the interest of the represented, in a manner responsive to them,” then constituency service is also a key aspect of democratic representation.43 Yet, the noncontingent nature of constituency service is also important for positive reasons—because it raises the empirical puzzles I introduced above. Through constituency service, politicians allocate access to welfare benefits and services of the state. Thus, constituency service is also a form of “distributive politics:” it reflects choices and struggles over the allocation of state resources to groups and individuals within society. Previous treatments of distributive politics, however, often suggest that politicians act strategi- cally and tactically to advance their positions through the targeting of ma- terial resources along electoral and often partisan lines. Specifically, existing work links receipt of public benefits and services fundamentally to support of specific political parties, or to the potential for supporting a particular party or politician. This can be true whether the distribution in question arises from policies—such as market regulations or the design of welfare programs—or from their de-facto implementation, e.g., the discretionary al- location of projects to particular geographic areas or the transfer of individual benefits to political supporters. The fact that politicians assist citizens in large numbers—but do not, in so doing, appear to target those they help on elec- toral grounds—therefore flies in the face of a large literature on distribution, especially in patronage democracies. This raises a further question: how should we conceive of different types of distributive politics—and where does constituency service fit in such a conceptualization? One useful view, offered by Stokes, Dunning, Nazareno, and Brusco, distinguishes primarily between programmatic
42. For alternate usage of the term see, inter alia, Lindberg 2010, UNDP and IPU 2012. 43. Pitkin 1967: 209. Introduction 19
and nonprogrammatic modes of distribution.44 In programmatic contexts,
there are 1) public rules that 2) actually shape the character of allocation. Nonprogrammatic politics, in contrast, predominates where only one or nei- ther of these conditions holds. Within nonprogrammatic politics, benefit receipt is then either contingent on direct political support (the presence of a quid pro quo) or not. Contingent provision of benefits is termed “cli- entelism,” whereas noncontingent distribution is conceived of as “partisan.” In other words, if distribution is nonprogrammatic, it must in some way, by Stokes et al.’s definition, relate to the targeting of benefits to supporters of a political party: either distribution requires explicit demonstration of support for that party or it is influenced by partisan bias in a more general manner. Yet, it is possible for distribution to be both nonprogrammatic and nonpar- tisan. This is the case when state resources are distributed in a nontransparent manner, but the choices over that allocation are not explicitly based on par- tisan ties or electoral behavior. Take, for example, an individual who requests assistance from a politician for accessing a public service. Suppose that pol- itician, based only on the request (or perceived need), asks that the relevant bureaucrat give additional attention to that person’s application, and the bureaucrat then prioritizes the application in a way that he would not have otherwise done. This would be nonprogrammatic—because binding, public rules are not guiding all aspects of distribution—but also nonpartisan, or more generally noncontingent, distribution. Building on this idea, consider a different case in which a politician is faced with two individuals who need similar assistance, and the representative has information that one of these individuals is her co-partisan (or, more gen- erally, a supporter of the candidate). If she is influenced by this information and, as a result, is more willing to provide assistance to that political supporter than to a person for whom she has no information on partisanship or patterns of previous political support, this shifts into the realm of partisan bias.45 She may still provide assistance to the second person, but she does so in a less speedy or less aggressive manner. This politician, then, is not engaging in con- stituency service with regard to her supporter, but rather is influenced in her actions by partisan bias. Thus, it is very feasible to imagine a politician who is regularly engaging in both partisan and nonpartisan intermediation—the
44. Stokes et al. 2013.
45. In general, and throughout the text, I use feminine pronouns to refer to politicians and masculine pronouns to refer to bureaucrats. 20 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
Constituency Service Are benefits No (Noncontingent) Nonprogrammatic to citizens Politics targeted to political supporters? Is political Yes Partisan No Partisan support a Distribution Bias quid pro quo (Contingent) for receipt of benefits? Clientelism Yes
Figure 1.1 Conceptualizing Constituency Service in Nonprogrammatic Politics
latter being constituency service—even where the two actions look, on their face, quite similar. In order to account for such forms of noncontingent distributive politics as highlighted in the first example, I shift the focus in the conceptual frame- work for nonprogrammatic politics offered by Stokes et al. from beginning with the question, “Is receipt of benefits contingent on an individual’s polit- ical support?” to instead asking, “Are benefits to citizens targeted to political supporters?” (By this I mean that patterns of potential political support in- fluence the allocation; the conceptualization does not make a commitment to a particular form of targeting, for example, the privileging of core or swing voters). A “yes” response to this question indicates forms of partisan distribu- tion and then replicates a portion of the Stokes et al. framework, beginning with the modified question: is political support a quid pro quo for receipt of benefits? This branch of the conceptual framework thus distinguishes between cases in which there is enforcement of a quid pro quo—clientelism—and those where there is not—partisan bias, including forms of pork-barrel poli- tics and benefits targeted to individuals who are thought to be supporters.46 The important distinction between these forms of distribution is that with partisan bias, “recipients who defect and vote for a different party suffer no individual punishment.”47 A “no” response to my initial question on polit- ical targeting instead implies nonpartisan distribution and leads to the broad category of “constituency service,” as shown in Figure 1.1. This is in line with
46. What I define here as partisan distribution, including both clientelism and partisan bias, is akin to a broad definition of clientelism as used by Kitschelt and Wilkinson (2007) and Ziegfeld (2016), inter alia. 47. Stokes et al. 2013: 12. Introduction 21
Fenno’s original characterization that “[c]onstituency service is totally non-
partisan and nonideological.”48 While constituency service has at times been thought to span the line between programmatic and nonprogrammatic politics, I suggest that at any point when an official intervenes with some nonpolicy-based discretion on behalf of a citizen, this can be considered a shift into nonprogrammatic distri- bution. This can occur in contexts traditionally associated with constituency service—such as when a politician in the United States intercedes with a bu- reaucrat on behalf of a constituent who needs assistance acquiring veterans’ or Social Security benefits—as well as in patronage democracies.49 Note also that that the petitioner in question could be an individual or a group. In practice, groups may be more likely to request group-oriented goods—i.e., goods for which more than a single individual or family unit is likely to benefit. I consider in the theoretical discussion of Chapter 4 why such requests may be more likely to offer politicians opportunities for partisan bias in distribution. Conceptually, however, a politician may feasibly respond to both individuals and groups in either a contingent or noncontingent manner. Indeed, this book documents the prevalence of assistance to individual citizens by high-level politicians. Yet, whether that assistance takes the form of constituency service or instead constitutes partisan distribution is a var- iable. The theory and empirical tests offered later in the book thus help to explain the conditions under which politicians offer partisan bias, rely on cli- entelism, or instead provide constituency service. The conceptual difference between partisan distribution and constitu- ency service is an important one because it allows us to incorporate into our understanding of distributive politics those forms of behavior that may look partisan—as they operate within a nonprogrammatic context—but that do not exhibit key characteristics associated with typical conceptualizations of partisan allocation. When a politician helps an individual citizen access the state, we might assume, based on our theoretical priors, that she does so only because she knows the political affiliation of this individual or can enforce fu- ture electoral support. Yet, that assumption may be fundamentally inaccurate in contexts where it is simply infeasible for politicians to infer an individual’s partisanship accurately or to make the receipt of assistance conditional on future support.
48. Fenno 2003 (1978): 102.
49. The US example is from Fenno (2003 [1978]: 101). 22 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
These distinctions are particularly critical to make in the context of pa-
tronage democracies, where the state is an important provider of resources but the allocation of those resources is often discretionary. Here, it is also necessary to come to conceptual grips with the notion of patronage relative to constituency service. While recent empirical work on the subject of pa- tronage takes the approach of not defining the term, a view on how this con- cept is used, particularly in developing countries, is necessary here.50 Within political science, patronage is often equated with clientelism, highlighting a power differential between the patron and the client, and the exchange of material goods for electoral promises.51 In contrast, a current anthropolog- ical view suggests a broader understanding, one that effectively sees patronage on moral terms as reflecting an expected mode of interaction between those individuals with greater access to resources—specifically, politicians—and those with less.52 From this perspective, patronage relations are not simply about the buying of votes, but also incorporate voters’ views of whether politicians are effectively utilizing the power of their position to provide benefits to their constituents.53 The conceptual approach that I take in the theory and analyses of this book has to do with this latter point. If citizens are free to change their vote, to hold politicians accountable for their performance in office, and, in so doing, these same voters do not directly threaten their ability to access public benefits, then what we are observing is not a form of clientelist politics. In this view, those politicians who make the receipt of goods conditional on electoral behavior are acting as clientelist patrons, while those who do not are serving as representatives. If these two activities coexist, as I suggest in my theoretical argument and as is emphasized in the view of patronage held by Piliavsky, Price, and others, then this reflects a more diverse set of political dynamics than have been considered in most political science work on distributive pol- itics.54 For practical purposes, and in line with the broader literature on rep- resentative democracy and constituency service, I use the terms clientelism and constituency service as defined by Figure 1.1, while keeping in mind that
50. Piliavsky 2014a: 4.
51. Piliavsky 2014a: 7–8. 52. See Piliavsky 2014a: 16–17. 53. Ibid. 54. Piliavsky 2014b, Price and Srinivas 2014. Introduction 23
both may refer to specific kinds of activities that fall within a broad rubric of “patronage” as used in recent anthropological work. The term “patronage” is also often used in a narrower sense to refer specif- ically to the discretionary allocation of state employment, while usage of the word as an adjective modifying democracy has typically been more general.55 Thus, in coining the term “patronage democracy,” Chandra emphasized public employment as a key measure of a democracy’s patronage character, but she also highlighted more generally the role of the state in providing social services and other benefits relevant to the general well-being of the public.56 This implies that not all developing countries are patronage democracies— the poorest states have only limited resources to allocate to the public—but a large portion of developing countries are likely to fit within this category, an expectation I test explicitly in Chapter 11.57 Thus, in the many national contexts where a significant portion of resources are allocated by the state in a discretionary—and so nonprogrammatic—manner, differentiating between contingent and noncontingent allocation should be core to our analyses of distributive politics. With the typology in Figure 1.1—and with the integration of constituency service as a key nonprogrammatic, yet nonpartisan, form of distribution—we can link ideas about “representation” and “responsiveness” to conceptions of “distributive politics.” Notions of policy responsiveness often correspond, in general, to programmatic politics. Forms of partisan bias—including pork- barrel politics—might reasonably fit into an understanding of allocation re- sponsiveness. Yet, should politicians who engage in nonprogrammatic but noncontingent distribution be properly conceived of as responsive to their constituents? And how does this form of distribution align with the different concepts of responsiveness previously discussed? I posit that constituency service is an important form of service respon- siveness that, at least theoretically, can serve as a key tool for representation. High-level politicians who solve problems for their constituents clearly act in the interest of the represented, and in a manner responsive to them. Perhaps most critically, following Pitkin’s previously discussed formulation, citizens who petition their legislators exert independent action: they are not “merely being taken care of,” nor is their autonomy subverted by politicians
55. Chandra 2004, Hicken 2011.
56. Chandra 2004: 115–29. 57. See “The global prevalence of patronage democracies,” Chapter 11. 24 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
who demand political support in exchange for benefits.58 In this key respect, constituency service contrasts with clientelism—in which an individual is held accountable to the person or party providing them a benefit. As Stokes explores, quid pro quos generate a perversion of accountability in which voters become accountable (or responsive) to their elected officials, rather than the reverse.59 Thus, such forms of contingent allocation—while a central aspect of distributive politics—cannot be understood as compelling forms of representation or adequate political responsiveness.60 In sum, distributive politics intersects in important ways with the con- cept of representation and notions of responsiveness. Both contingent and noncontingent tools of distribution—targeted policies and constituency service—can be seen as forms of political representation, while clientelism instead subverts the direction of accountability between representatives and the represented. Most importantly for current purposes, constituency service is both a form of representation and a potentially important strategic tool for distribution. The prevalence of direct assistance from high-level politicians— especially in relation to policy allocation and local-level intermediation— thus suggests a rethinking of representation in patronage democracies and of the diverse forms of distribution that can emerge in democratic contexts. I return in the concluding chapter to the normative implications of the form of responsiveness I document here.
Outline and contributions of the book
These conceptual preliminaries provide the basis for an empirical and theo- retical study of constituency service in patronage democracies. I turn to this topic in the rest of this book. In Part I, I present the puzzle of constituency service in India, a paradig- matic patronage democracy. Despite existing expectations that high-level politicians should allocate little time to the affairs of individual citizens, I show that interactions with constituents merit a large portion of these politicians’ attention. These exchanges constitute a major channel for the distribution
58. Pitkin 1967: 209.
59. Stokes 2005. 60. Whether this perverse accountability is a problem for representation empirically is a dif- ferent question. If, as recent literature suggests, local clientelist brokers are largely targeting for benefits distribution those individuals who are already co-partisans—their core voters—then there is little empirical effect of the quid pro quo on behavior. Introduction 25
of welfare benefits. In addition, and surprisingly, this helpfulness is generally
offered without regard to a person’s political behavior or preferences. Scholars have devoted relatively little attention to these important constituent-facing activities of high-level politicians. The novel descriptive and causal evidence I offer in Part I thus provides a central contribution of the book. In Chapter 2, then, I draw on accounts from sustained, in-depth shadowing of politicians, as well as large-scale politician surveys, to characterize the na- ture of politicians’ engagement with their constituents. I highlight the im- portance these politicians place on making time for citizen interactions and responding to requests—to the extent that high-level politicians spend, on average, a quarter of their time interacting with individual citizens. Critically, the primary focus of these contacts is requests for assistance with the same types of goods and services that are typically also requested of local politicians such as village council presidents, providing preliminary evidence that demands may at least partially originate from individuals’ failure to acquire these benefits at the local level—a topic to which I turn later in the book. I also show in Chapter 2 that the individual benefits directly provided to cit- izens by high-level politicians are substantial. Thus, the phenomenon I study here is a central element of distributive politics in an emblematic patronage democracy. While these analyses suggest that high-level politicians spend significant time assisting individual voters, the evidence in Chapter 2 cannot readily show whether and when this assistance is nonpartisan and noncontingent in nature. In Chapter 3, I draw on a field experimental audit of politicians with a near census of Indian state and national legislators to show that, on the whole, politicians do not take indicators of partisanship into account when responding to individual- level requests. Specifically, this national field experiment—which I believe is the largest of its kind, and the first conducted with state and national legislators—shows that for India’s high- level politicians, information on electoral preferences does not affect the will- ingness of representatives to respond to an individual’s request for assistance. In addition, indications of shared ethnicity, e.g. caste, which may be closely tied to political preferences, do not result in preferential treatment. Overall, these findings offer strong evidence that the aid high-level politicians offer to individuals requiring assistance navigating the state is often noncontingent in nature, taking the form of constituency service. Taken together, Chapters 2 and 3 therefore demonstrate the importance of constituency service in a patronage democracy. Noncontingent assistance is critical both for the high-level politicians for whom providing individual aid 26 T he Puzzle of Const it uenc y Service
is a major component of their representative activities, and for the millions
of citizens who thereby gain critical welfare services and benefits. The evi- dence in Part I makes an important contribution, by showing the surprising salience of this representative and responsive behavior in a context in which politicians are often thought to rely mostly on partisan bias and clientelism. This descriptive evidence therefore underscores the puzzle of constituency service, motivating the theoretical and empirical contributions in the re- mainder of the book. With this evidence in mind, Part II turns to explaining the sources of constituency service. In Chapter 4, I offer a theoretical explanation for why we should expect to see constituency service in patronage democracies, despite existing expectations to the contrary. In Chapters 5 through 10, I then provide substantial empirical evidence to support this argument in the Indian case. This Part II focuses substantially on the nonprogrammatic aspects of democracy in India and, especially, on how demands for assis- tance from high-level politicians originate partly from the partisan dy- namics of local distribution. Thus, though this book contributes most centrally to understanding direct assistance by high-level politicians, it necessarily expends substantial attention on local politics, using original qualitative and quantitative data to illustrate the nature of local targeting and how this generates appeals for assistance from high-level politicians. This account is critical for the book’s argument, because as previously discussed, it is at least in part the multilevel nature of politics and distri- bution that generates both a demand for and the supply of constituency service. This focus on local distribution also allows for a more holistic de- piction of the nature of political responsiveness in India. In Chapter 4, I discuss in greater detail my argument for why constitu- ency service constitutes a key element of distributive politics, alongside forms of locally brokered clientelism and contingent allocation of group-oriented goods. I elaborate the sources of demand for, and supply of, constituency serv ice in a patronage democracy. I then consider the limitations of more widely studied forms of distributive politics and outline the ways in which constit- uency service offers a compelling alternative to politicians for pursuing their desired electoral ends. This discussion suggests a number of empirical implications, laid out in detail in Chapter 4, which guide the analyses in subsequent chapters. In par- ticular, I consider 1) the predictions of my argument for the relationship be- tween citizens and both local-and high-level officials, including the character of demands for intermediation and assistance; 2) the partisan character, or Another random document with no related content on Scribd: colleagues, assumed the chief command. The French and Austrians reoccupied the French Legation, but the barricade in Customs-street was lost. One German only was killed and the position was saved, but the blunder might have been disastrous.
"It was obvious from the first that the great danger at the British Legation was not so much from rifle-fire as from incendiarism, for on three sides the compound was surrounded by Chinese buildings of a highly inflammable nature. Before time could be given to clear an open space round the Legation, the buildings to the rear of Mr. Cockburn's house were set on fire, and as the wind was blowing strongly towards us it seemed as if nothing could prevent the fire from bursting into the Legation. Water had to be used sparingly, for the wells were lower than they had been for years, yet the flames had to be fought. Bullets were whistling through the trees. Private Scadding, the first Englishman to fall, was killed while on watch on the stables near by. Men and women lined up, and water passed along in buckets to a small fire engine that was played upon the fire. Walls were broken through, trees hastily cut down, and desperate work saved the building. It was the first experience of intense excitement. Then the men set to with a will, and till late at night were demolishing the temple and buildings outside the wall of the Legation. Work was continued in the morning, but when it was proposed to pull down an unimportant building in 'the Hanlin Academy that abuts upon the Legation to the North, the proposition was vetoed. Such desecration, it was said, would wound the susceptibilities of the Chinese Government. It was 'the most sacred building in China.' To lay hands upon it, even to safeguard the lives of beleaguered women and children, could not be thought of, for fear of wounding the susceptibilities of the Chinese Government! So little do the oldest of us understand the Chinese.
"A strong wind was blowing from the Hanlin into the Legation, the distance separating the nearest building from the Minister's residence being only a few feet. Fire the one and the Minister's residence would have been in danger. Suddenly there was the alarm of fire. Smoke was rising from the Hanlin. The most venerated pile in Peking, the great Imperial Academy, centre of all Chinese learning, with its priceless collection of books and manuscripts, was in flames. Everyone who was off duty rushed to the back of the Legation. The Hanlin had been occupied during the night by Imperial soldiers, who did not hesitate, in their rage to destroy the foreigners, to set fire to the buildings. It was first necessary to clear the temple. A breach was made in the wall, Captain Poole headed a force of Marines and volunteers who rushed in, divided, searched the courts, and returned to the main pavilion with its superb pillars and memorial tablets. Chinese were rushing from other burning pavilions to the main entrance. They were taken by surprise and many were killed, but they had done their evil deed. … To save the Legation it was necessary to continue the destruction and dismantle the library buildings. With great difficulty, with inadequate tools, the buildings were pulled down. Trees endangering our position were felled. An attempt was made to rescue specimens of the more valuable manuscripts, but few were saved for the danger was pressing. Sir Claude MacDonald, as soon as the fire was discovered, despatched a messenger to the Tsung-li-Yamên, telling them of the fire and urging them to send some responsible officials to carry away what volumes could be rescued, but no attention was given to his courteous communication. The Dutch Legation was burned on the 22nd, and next day Chinese soldiers set fire to the Russo-Chinese Bank, and a greater part of the buildings were destroyed, involving in danger the American Legation. Chinese volunteers were called for. They responded readily, worked with much courage exposed to fire from the wall, and the Legation was saved. All the buildings back from the bank to the Chien Mên (the main gate between the Chinese and Tartar cities facing the entrance to the Forbidden City) seemed to be on fire. Then all the Customs buildings were fired, so that flames were on every side, and the smoke was tremendous, while the fusillade was incessant. An Italian and a German died of their wounds. The first American was killed, shot from the wall, then a Russian fell. They were dropping off one by one, and already we were well accustomed to the sight of the stretcher and the funeral. Wounded were being brought in from every Legation to the hospital in the British Legation. …
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"Then a new terror was added to the fears of the besieged, for the Imperial troops mounted a 3 in. Krupp gun on the Chien Mên, the gate opposite to the Forbidden City, and began throwing segment shells from a distance of 1,000 yards into the crowded Legation. The first shell struck the American Legation, others burst over the British compound, while others crashed into the upper rooms of the German Legation. It was known that the Chinese had ten similar guns in Peking, while we had nothing with which to answer their fire, and no one ever knew where the next gun might be mounted. Immediately all hands dug bomb-proof shelters for the women and children. Rifle fire also played on the Americans from the wall quite close to them at a distance of a few hundred feet only, whence, safely sheltered by the parapet of the wall, men could enfilade the barricade which was held by the Americans on the street running east and west under the wall. The barricade became untenable, and to occupy the wall was a paramount necessity which could no longer be delayed. … Down in the besieged area the enemy pressed upon every side. Again they attempted to fire the British Legation from the Mongol market on the west; but a sortie was made by British Marines and Volunteers, and the Chinese were driven from house to house out of the market. The work was dangerous, and Captain Halliday was dangerously wounded, while Captain Strouts had an extraordinary escape, the bullet grazing the skin above the carotid artery. The sortie was entirely successful; some rifles were captured, and ammunition, which was more precious than silver. The buildings were then fired by us, the fire being kept under control, which cleared a long distance round the west of the Legation. Fortification proceeded without intermission and all the defences of the besieged area quickly gathered strength. For the first time in war, art was a feature in the fortification. Sandbags were of every colour under the sun and of every texture. Silks and satins, curtains and carpets and embroideries were ruthlessly cut up into sandbags. In the Prince's Fu the sandbags were made of the richest silks and satins, the Imperial gifts and accumulated treasures of one of the eight princely families of China. In the Prince's Fu the Chinese made a determined attempt to force their way into the Palace in their frenzy to slaughter the native Christians. In the angle of the wall in the northeastern court of the Palace they made a breach in the wall and rushed wildly in. But the Japanese were waiting for them and from loopholes they had made opposite rolled them over like rabbits, driving them helter-skelter back again. Some 20 were killed, and but for the unsteadiness of the Italians who were assisting the Japanese the execution would have been greater. The Chinese were driven back, but the same evening they threw fireballs of petroleum over the wall and set fire to the building. Flames spread to the splendid main pavilion of the Palace. The Japanese in their turn were driven back, and the Christians escaping from the burning building overflowed from the Fu into all that quarter lying between the Palace grounds and Legation-street.
"On June 25 a truly Oriental method of weakening our defence
was attempted by the Chinese. Up to 4 o'clock in the afternoon the shooting of rifles and field guns had been continuous, when suddenly bugles were sounded north, east, south, and west, and, as if by magic, the firing ceased. It was under perfect control—Imperial control commanded by responsible central authority. The silence abruptly following the fusillade was striking. Then an official of low rank was seen to affix to the parapet of the north bridge near the British Legation a board inscribed with 18 Chinese characters:—'Imperial command to protect Ministers and stop firing. A despatch will be handed at the Imperial Canal Bridge.' A placard whereon was written 'Despatch will be received' was sent by one of the Chinese clerks employed in the Legation, but when he approached the bridge a hundred rifles from the Imperial Palace gate were levelled at him. The despatch was never received. The artifice deceived no one. Treachery was feared, vigilance was redoubled. Sandbags were thrown on positions which during fire were untenable. So that when at midnight the general attack was made upon us we were prepared, and every man was at his post. The surprise had failed. As firing had ceased so it began. Horns were sounded, and then from every quarter a hail of bullets poured over us, sweeping through the trees and striking with sharp impact the roofs of the pavilions. No harm was done though the noise was terrific. Great steadiness was shown by the men. They lay quietly behind the sandbags and not a shot was fired in reply. It was suggested as an explanation of this wild firing that the shots were to kill the guardian spirits which were known to hover over us. Similar fusillades took place at the American Legation and at the French Legation, and with the same result. During the armistice the Chinese had availed themselves of the quiet to throw up earthworks in the Carriage Park alongside the British Legation, in the Mongol market between the British and Russian Legations, and at both ends of Legation-street facing the Americans on the west and facing the French Legation corner on the east.
"Our isolation was now complete, and the enemy's cordon was constantly drawing closer. Every wall beyond the lines was loopholed. Not only was the besieged area cut off from all communication with the world outside Peking, but it was cut off from all communication with the Pei-tang. No messenger could be induced for love or money to carry a message there. Bishop Favier and his guards must have been already hard pressed, for they were exposed to the danger not only of rifle and cannon, but of fire and starvation. The small garrison detached from the guards was known to be inadequately supplied with ammunition. It was known, however, that the danger of the situation had long been foreseen by Monseigneur Favier, who, speaking with unequalled authority, had weeks before the siege vainly urged his Minister to bring troops to Peking. When the crisis became inevitable and Christian refugees poured into the city the Bishop endeavoured to buy arms and ammunition, so that there was a hope, though a faint one, that the Chinese themselves had assisted in the defence. So with stores. Large quantities of grain were stored in the Pei-tang, but whether sufficient for a siege for a garrison of 3,000 souls was not known. Their condition was a constant source of anxiety to the Europeans within the Legations, who were powerless to help them. Watch was kept unceasingly for any sign of the disaster that seemed inevitable—the massacre and the conflagration.
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"Towards evening of the 28th a Krupp gun was mounted in the
Mongol market, not 300 yards from the British Legation, and fire was opened upon a storeyed building occupied by marines in the south court of the Legation. Fired at short range, the shells crashed through the roof and walls. For an hour the bombardment continued, but no one was injured, though a crack racing pony in the stables below was killed, and next day eaten. It was determined to capture this gun, so in the early morning a force consisting of 26 British, ten Germans, ten Russians, five French, and five Italians, and about 20 volunteers made a sortie from the Legation to try and capture the gun and burn the houses covering it; but the attempt was a fiasco. The men got tangled up in the lanes so that the reserve line with the kerosene marched ahead of the firing line; there was a Babel of voices, no one knew where to go, the captain lost his head and set fire to the houses in the rear and the men retreated pell-mell. … The Chinese, however, were alarmed and removed the gun. Meanwhile both French and German Legations had suffered heavily. …
"On the 29th the French Legation was hard pressed. One of their officers, the midshipman Herbert, was shot. Reinforcements were hastily sent from the Fu, and the attack was repulsed; but some of the outer buildings of the Legation were burned, and the French had to retire further into the Legation. In this siege it was striking what a powerful part petroleum was made to play. Already the French Legation had suffered more severely than any other Legation; of their 45 men 16 had been killed or wounded. Krupp guns had been mounted not 50 yards to the eastward, and the eastern walls of the pavilions were being gradually and systematically battered into ruins. All day now and until the cessation of hostilities shells were pounding into the French Legation, into Chamot's hotel, and from the Chien Mên on the wall, promiscuously, everywhere. Much property was destroyed, but, though the shells burst everywhere and escapes were marvellous, few people were hit. Bullets whistled in the Legation compounds. Surgeon Lippett was talking to Mr. Conger in the American Legation when he was hit by a bullet that smashed the thigh bone. Had the bullet not struck the surgeon it would have hit the Minister. Mr. Pethick was sitting at a window of the American Legation fanning himself when a bullet pierced the fan. A civilian was wounded in the British Legation, and a marine, Phillips, was killed while walking in the compound. A fragment of shell fell on a patient inside the hospital.
"The cordon was drawing closer. In the Fu nearly one-third of
the buildings had been abandoned and the Japanese retired to a second line of defence. Shells were fired by the hundred. On the 29th 70 shells were thrown into the British Legation. The difficulty of holding the American and German barricades on the city wall was increasing. The positions were very much exposed. A Krupp gun was brought close to the American barricade. The Russo-Chinese Bank and all the buildings near were occupied by Chinese troops, the walls being loopholed and lanes barricaded. And all were so close that you could not look through a loop-hole without being shot at. Yet the American barricade, with its mixed guard of Americans, Russians, and British, had to be held at all hazards; otherwise the Krupp gun could be brought down the wall and play havoc upon the Legations, the furthest of which—the British—was at its nearest point not 400 yards distant. Still more exposed than the American barricade was the outpost on the wall held by the Germans. At first they had been reinforced by the French and Austrians, but the needs of the French Legation were equally pressing and the guards were withdrawn and a small picket of British sent to aid the Germans. … In the morning of July 1 the Chinese climbed up the ramp and surprised the guard. The order was hastily given to retire, and the picket, shaken by its losses of yesterday, left the wall. The German non-commissioned officer who gave the order was severely blamed for thus abandoning a position that he had been ordered to hold. Withdrawal left the Americans exposed in the rear. They saw the Germans retire, and in a panic fell back to the Legation, rushing pell-mell down the ramp. Nothing had occurred at the barricade itself to justify the retreat, although two men had fallen within a few hours before. Yet the wall was the key of the position and had to be maintained. A conference was held at the British Legation, and as a result orders were given to return to the post. Captain Myers at once took back a strong detachment of 14 Americans, ten British, and ten Russians, and reoccupied the barricade as if nothing had happened. The Chinese, ignorant that the post had been evacuated, lost their opportunity. Then the guard in the French Legation was driven a stage further back and M. Wagner, a volunteer, was killed by the bursting of a shell. …
"It was a day of misfortunes. In the afternoon the most
disastrous sortie of the siege was attempted. A Krupp gun, firing at short range into the Fu (i. e., the Prince's Palace), was a serious menace to our communications. Captain Paolini, the Italian officer, conceived the idea that he could capture the gun if volunteers could be given him and if the Japanese could assist. … By this ineffective sortie our small garrison was reduced by three men killed, one officer and four men and one volunteer wounded. Fortunately it was no worse. The gun that was not captured was brought up again next day into play and continued battering down the Fu walls. The enemy were working their way ever nearer to the refugee Christians. Their rage to reach the Christians was appalling. They cursed them from over the wall, hurled stones at them, and threw shells to explode overhead. Only after the armistice, when we received the 'Peking Gazette,' did we find that word to burn out and slaughter the converts had come from the highest in the land. The Japanese were driven still further back. Already they had lost heavily, for upon them had fallen the brunt of a defence the gallantry of which surpassed all praise. When the siege was raised it was found that of the entire force of marines only five men had escaped without wounds; one was wounded five times. Colonel Shiba early raised a force of 'Christian volunteers,' drilled them, instructed them, and armed them with rifles captured from the enemy. They made an effective addition to the Japanese strength. …
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"At daybreak on July 3, the Chinese barricade on the top of
the wall near the American outpost was successfully stormed by a party of British, Americans, and Russians, under the leadership of Captain Myers, Captain Vroublevsky, and Mr. Nigel Oliphant. … The position was intolerable. It was imperative to rush the barricade and drive out the Chinese; nothing else could be done. An attack was planned for 3 in the morning, and before that hour a strong force of British was sent over from the legation. The combined force assembled for the attack consisted of 26 British marines under Sergeant Murphy and Corporal Gregory, with Mr. Nigel Oliphant as volunteer, 15 Russians under Captain Vroublevsky, and 15 Americans, all being under the command of Captain Myers. When asked if they came willingly one American begged to be relieved and was sent below. This left the total force at 56, of whom 14 were Americans. So close were the Chinese that it was only a couple of jumps from our barricade to their fort. There was a rush to be first over, the fort was stormed, and dashing round the covering wall the 'foreign devils' charged behind the barricade. Taken by surprise the Chinese fired in the air, fled incontinently, and were shot down as they ran along the open surface of the wall. Captain Vroublevsky and his detachment acted with especial gallantry, for their duty it was to attack the Chinese barricade in the front, while the British and Americans took it in the rear. Two banners marked 'General Ma' were captured. Fifteen Chinese soldiers of Tung-fuh-siang were killed outright and many more must have been wounded. Some rifles and ammunition were captured. Then the allied forces, exposed to a heavy fire, retired within what had been the Chinese barricade and employed it against the enemy who had built it. Captain Myers was wounded in the knee by tripping over a fallen spear, two Americans, Turner and Thomas—one having accidentally jumped on the wrong side of the barricade—were killed, and Corporal Gregory was wounded in the foot. News of the successful sortie gave much pleasure to the community. Chinese coolies were sent on the wall, and a strongly intrenched redoubt was built there; the camp was made safe by traverses. Unfortunately, the wound of Captain Myers proved more serious than was at first suspected, and he was not again able to return to duty. The services of a brave and capable officer were lost to the garrison; his post on the wall was taken most ably by Captain Percy Smith and other officers in turn.
"Most of the shelling was now directed against the French and German Legations and Chamot's Hotel. The hotel was struck 91 times and was several times set on fire, but the flame was extinguished. Work continued there, however hot the shelling, for food had to be prepared there for half the community in Peking, Russians, French, Germans, and Austrians. The energy of Chamot was marvellous. He fed the troops and a crowd of Christian refugees, killed his own mules and horses, ground his own wheat, and baked 300 loaves a day. Shelled out of the kitchen he baked in the parlour. His courage inspired the Chinese, and they followed him under fire with an amazing confidence.
"Then suddenly a new attempt was made to reduce the British
Legation. Guns firing round shot, eight-pounders and four-pounders, were mounted on the Imperial City wall overlooking from the north the Hanlin and the British Legation. With glasses—the distance was only 350 yards—one could clearly see the officers and distinguish their Imperial Peacock feathers and Mandarin hats. … Three batteries in all, carrying five guns, were mounted on the Imperial City wall where the bombardment could be witnessed by the Empress Dowager and her counsellors, and day after day round shot were thrown from them into the British Legation, into a compound crowded with women and children. … On July 5 Mr. David Oliphant, of the British Legation, was killed. He was felling a tree by the well in the Hanlin when he was shot by a sniper concealed in a roof in the Imperial Carriage Park, and died within an hour. Only 24 years of age, he was a student of exceptional promise and ability. …
"Day by day the Chinese were pressing us more closely. In the
Fu they were gradually wedging their way in from the north-east so as to cut the communications between the British and the Legations to the east. They burned their way from house to house. Keeping under cover, they set alight the gables within reach by torches of cloth soaked in kerosene held at the end of long poles. If the roof were beyond reach they threw over fireballs of kerosene, or, if still further, shot into them with arrows freighted with burning cloth. In this way and with the use of the heavy gun they battered a way through the houses and courtyards of the Prince's Palace. A daring attempt made by the Japanese to capture the gun resulted in failure. Coolies failed them when they were within four yards of success, and they were forced to retire. Their gallant leader Captain Ando was shot in the throat while waving on his men, one marine was seriously wounded, and one Christian volunteer killed. … By the 8th the position in the Fu was alarming, for the Japanese force had been reduced to 13 marines and 14 volunteers; yet with decreasing numbers they were constantly called upon to defend a longer line. Reinforcements were sent them of half-a-dozen Customs and student volunteers and of six British marines. Nothing can give a better indication of the smallness of our garrison than the fact that throughout the siege reinforcements meant five men or ten men. Strong reinforcements meant 15 men. Our reinforcements were counted by ones, not by companies. With this force a line of intrenchments stretching from the outer court of the Fu on the east across the grounds to near the extreme northwest corner was held till the end. … The position was one of constant solicitude, for the loss of the Fu would have imperilled the British Legation. A Krupp gun, mounted 50 yards away, had the range and raked the post with shell and shrapnel. To strengthen the breastwork exposure to rifle fire was incurred from 20 yards' distance, while to reach the post required crossing a zone of fire which was perhaps the hottest in the whole of the defences. Many men were wounded there, and one Italian had his head blown off. Shell fire finally made it impossible to live there. The advanced posts were abandoned, and the sentries fell back to the main picket. No sooner was the advanced post abandoned than it was occupied by the Chinese, and the defences we had made were turned against us.
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"Meanwhile, the French and German Legations were being roughly
handled, and men were falling daily. At the German Legation shells burst through the Minister's drawing-room. Most of the other buildings conspicuous by their height were uninhabitable, but every member of the Legation remained at his post. So, too, in the French Legation, where the Austrians were, Dr. and Madame von Rosthorn remained by the side of their men. The French volunteers and Dr. Matignon stood stanchly by their Legation, although it was fast tumbling into ruins, their coolness and resolution being in curious contrast to the despair of their Minister, who, crying, 'Tout est perdu,' melodramatically burned the French archives in a ditch at the British Legation. Chinese and French were so close that the voices of the Chinese officers could be heard encouraging their men. Chinese were within the Legation itself. Their guns literally bombarded the Minister's residence 'à bout portant,' and the noise of the exploding shells was terrific. Yet the men never flinched. … July 11 was a day of many casualties. One German was mortally wounded; one Englishman, one Italian, and one Japanese were seriously wounded. Mr. Nigel Oliphant, a volunteer, received a bullet wound in the leg, while Mr. Narahara, the well-known secretary of the Japanese Legation, wounded by the bursting of a shell, suffered a compound fracture of the leg, which from the first gave cause for anxiety. He gradually sank and died on July 24. …
On the 11th 18 prisoners were captured by the French in a
temple near the Legation. They were soldiers, and a Chinese Christian gave information as to their whereabouts. Everyone of them was put to death without mercy in the French Legation, bayoneted by a French corporal to save cartridges. Questioned before death they gave much information that was obviously false. One man, however, declared that a mine was being driven under the French Legation. His story had quick corroboration. As the afternoon of the 13th was closing a feint attack was made on the Japanese intrenchments in the Fu. Then the sound of many bugles was heard from the camps round the French Legation, to be followed in a few minutes by a terrific explosion, and in a moment or two by another; and bricks and debris were hurled into the air. It was a dull roar in the midst of the devilish cries of hordes of Chinese, shrieking like spirits in hell, the rattle of musketry, and the boom of heavy guns. The mine of which the prisoner had warned us had exploded and burst an entrance into the French Legation. When the first mine exploded the French Captain Darcy, the Austrian Charge d'Affaires, two French marines, and Mr. Destelan of the Customs were standing over the death-trap. Mr. Destelan was buried up to the neck, but was rescued unhurt, the two marines were engulfed and their bodies were never recovered, Captain Darcy and Dr. von Rosthorn escaped miraculously. The latter was buried by the first explosion and released unhurt a moment or two later by the second. Driven out of the main buildings, the small garrison (it consisted only of 17 Austrians with three officers, 27 French with two officers, and nine volunteers) fell back a few paces to a line of defence, part of which had only been completed in the afternoon, and securely held the position.
"Simultaneously with this attack upon the French Legation the
Chinese made a determined assault upon the German Legation, the effective strength of whose garrison numbered only one officer and 31 men. They broke into the Club alongside the Legation and were on the tennis ground when Count Soden and a handful of German soldiers gallantly charged them at the point of the bayonet and drove them out headlong. … Uniforms on the dead Chinese showed that the attack had been carried out by the troops of Yung Lu, reinforced by the savages of Tung-fuh-siang. Some of the dead were armed with the latest pattern Mauser and the newest German army revolver. Some ammunition, of which the guards were in much need, was recovered and distributed among the Japanese and Italians. Firing continued round the other Legations; every battery opened fire; the air hissed with bullets. There was momentary darkness, then flames broke out from the large foreign houses between the German Legation and Canal-street. It seemed at one time as if the whole of the quarter would be burned, but the fire did not spread. Heavy rain came on, and the rest of the night passed in quiet. "On July 14, a messenger, sent out on the 10th, with a letter for the troops, returned to the British Legation. He had been arrested by the Chinese, cruelly beaten, and taken, he said, to the yamên of Yung Lu, and there given the following letter, purporting to be written by Prince Ching 'and others,' addressed to the British Minister. It was the first communication of any kind whatsoever that had reached us from outside for nearly one month. 'For the last ten days the soldiers and Militia have been fighting, and there has been no communication between us, to our great anxiety. Some time ago we hung up a board, expressing our intentions, but no answer has been received, and contrary to expectation the foreign soldiers made renewed attacks, causing alarm and suspicion among soldiers and people. Yesterday the troops captured a convert named Chin Ssu-hei and learnt from him that all the foreign Ministers 'were well, which caused us very great satisfaction. But it is the unexpected which happens. The reinforcements of foreign troops were long ago stopped and turned back by the "Boxers," and if, in accordance with previous agreement, we were to guard your Excellencies out of the city, there are so many "Boxers" on the road to Tien-tsin and Ta-ku that we should be apprehensive of misadventure. We now request your Excellencies to first take your families and the various members of your staffs, and leave your Legations in detachments. We should select trustworthy officers to give close and strict protection, and you should temporarily reside in the Tsung-li-Yamên, pending future arrangements for your return home, in order to preserve friendly relations intact from beginning to end. But at the time of leaving the Legations there must on no account whatever be taken any single armed soldier, in order to prevent doubt and fear on the part of the troops and people, leading to untoward incidents. If your Excellencies are willing to show this confidence, we beg you to communicate with all the foreign Ministers in Peking, to-morrow at noon being the limit of time, and to let the original messenger deliver the reply in order that we may settle the day for leaving the Legations. This is the single way of preserving relations which we have been able to devise in the face of innumerable difficulties. If no reply is received by the time fixed, even our affection will not enable us to help you. Compliments. (Signed) Prince Ching and others. July 14, 1900.'
{125}
"Following as it did immediately after the attack on the
French Legation, which reduced it to ruins, the letter did not lack for impudence. 'Boxers' had driven back our troops, 'Militia,' not 'Boxers,' had been attacking us in Peking. The letter was read with derision. It was interpreted as a guileless attempt to seduce the Ministers away from their Legations and massacre them at ease. News we heard subsequently had just reached the Chinese of the taking of Tien-tsin city. … On the 15th a reply was sent declining on the part of the foreign representatives the invitation to proceed to the Tsung-li-Yamên, and pointing out that no attacks had been made by our troops, who were only defending the lives and property of foreigners against the attacks of Chinese Government troops. The reply concluded with a statement that if the Chinese Government wished to negotiate they should send a responsible official with a white flag. …
"The morning of the 16th opened with a disaster. Captain
Strouts, the senior British officer, was shot while returning from the outposts in the Fu. He was struck in the upper part of the left thigh by an expanding bullet, and died an hour after being brought into the hospital, to the grief of the entire community. … While shells were bursting in the trees, and amid the crack of rifle bullets, the brave young fellow to whose gallant defence we all owed so much was laid to rest. … While the service was proceeding a messenger bearing a flag of truce was approaching the gate. … The letter was from 'Prince Ching and others.' It explained that the reason for suggesting the removal of the Legations to the Tsung-li-Yamên was that the Chinese Government could afford more efficient protection to the members of the Legations if concentrated than if scattered as at present. As the foreign Ministers did not agree, however, the Chinese would as in duty bound do their utmost to protect the Legations where they were. (While the latter sentence was being read the translator had to raise his voice in order that it should be heard above the crack of the Imperial rifle bullets.) They would bring reinforcements and continue their endeavours to prevent the 'Boxers' from firing, and they trusted that the foreign Ministers on their part would restrain their troops also from firing.
"By the same messenger a cipher message was brought to Mr.
Conger, the American Minister. It said:—'Communicate tidings bearer.' It was in the State Department cipher and had no date or indication by whom it had been sent. Mr. Conger replied in the same cipher:—'For one month we have been besieged in British Legation under continued shot and shell from Chinese troops. Quick relief only can prevent general massacre.' When forwarding his reply he asked that it should be sent to the address from which the other had come, which address had not been communicated to him. Next day the Yamên sent him an answer saying that his message had been forwarded and explaining that the telegram sent to him had been contained in a telegram from Wu Ting Fang, the Chinese Minister at Washington, dated July 11. This telegram read:—'The United States cheerfully aid China, but it is thinking of Mr. Minister Conger. The Hon. Secretary of State inquires after him by telegram, which I beg to be transmitted to him and get his reply.' From this we could well imagine what specious assurances had been given to Mr. Hay by Wu Ting Fang's bland assurances that there had been a most regrettable outbreak on the part of lawless bands in the north of China which the Government was vainly struggling to cope with. … From July 17 there was a cessation of hostilities; not that men were not wounded afterwards and Christian coolies fired upon whenever they showed themselves, but the organized attacks ceased and the Krupp guns were muzzled. Fearing treachery, however, we relaxed none of our vigilance. Trenches were cut where mines might have been driven. All walls and shelters were so strengthened as to be practically shell-proof. Our preparations were purely defensive. On their part the Chinese also continued work at their barricades. From their barricade on the top of the wall near the German Legation they advanced westward so that they could fire directly down into the German Legation and pick off men going up the steps of the Minister's house. They built a wall with loop-holes across Legation-street not 20 yards from the Russian barricade. In nearly every position the enemy were so close that you could shoot into the muzzles of their rifles thrust through the loop-holes. The cordon was still drawn tightly round us, and we were penned in to prevent our acting in co-operation with the troops who were coming to our relief. No provisions were permitted to reach us, but a few eggs for the women and children were surreptitiously sold us by Chinese soldiers. All were on reduced rations, the allowance for the 2,750 native Christians whom we had to provide for being barely sufficient to save them from starvation. Their sufferings were very great, the mortality among the children and the aged pitiful. No one could have foreseen that within the restricted limits of the besieged area, with the food supply therein obtainable, 473 civilians (of these 414—namely, 191 men, 147 women, 76 children—were inside the British Legation), a garrison of 400 men, 2,750 refugees, and some 400 native servants could have sustained a siege of two entire months. Providentially in the very centre of Legation-street there was a mill with a large quantity of grain which turned out 900 lb. of flour a day divided between the hotel and the Legation. One day the Tsung-li-Yamên insultingly sent us a present of 1,000 lb. of flour and some ice and vegetables, but no one would venture to eat the flour, fearing that it might be poisoned. Communications now passed almost daily with the Tsung-li-Yamên or with the officials whose despatches were signed 'Prince Ching and others.' On July 17, Sir Claude MacDonald replied to the suggestion that the Ministers would restrain their troops from firing upon the Chinese. He said that from the first the foreign troops had acted entirely in self-defence, and would continue to do so. But the Chinese must understand that previous events had led to a want of confidence and that if barricades were erected or troops moved in the vicinity of the Legations the foreign guards would be obliged to fire. In the afternoon the Chinese replied, reviewing the situation and ascribing the hostilities to the attacks previously made by the Legation guards. They noted with satisfaction that a cessation of firing was agreed to on both sides, but suggested that as foreign soldiers had been firing from the city wall east of the Chien Mên, they should be removed from that position. {126} Next day, Sir Claude MacDonald replied with a review of the situation from the foreign point of view. … He hoped that mutual confidence would gradually be restored, but meanwhile he again pointed out that cessation of hostile preparations as well as firing was necessary on the part of the Chinese troops to secure that the foreign troops should cease firing. As for the suggestion that the foreign troops should leave the city wall, it was impossible to accede to it, because a great part of the attacks on the Legations had been made from the wall. He concluded by suggesting that sellers of fruit and ice should be allowed to come in. They were never permitted to come in. It was clear, however, that events were happening elsewhere to cause alarm in the Imperial Court. On the afternoon of the first day of what might be called the armistice M Pelliot, a French gentleman from Tongking, entered the Chinese lines and to the great anxiety of all was absent five hours. He was taken by soldiers to a yamên of one of the big generals—he knew not which—was plied with questions which, speaking some Chinese, he could answer, and was sent back unmolested with an escort of 15 soldiers 'to protect him against the Boxers.' This unusual clemency was interpreted favourably. It was clear that the Chinese had sustained a severe defeat and that relief was coming. Next day direct communication was for the first time held with an official of the Tsung-li-Yamên. A secretary named Wen Jui came to the Legation to see Sir Claude MacDonald and was received by the Minister outside the gate, not being permitted to enter. He said that the regrettable occurrences were due to 'local banditti,' that the Government had great concern to protect the foreigners, that Baron von Ketteler's body had been recovered from the hands of the 'local banditti' who had murdered him and been enclosed in a valuable coffin. He urged that the maintenance of foreign troops on the city was unnecessary and that they should be withdrawn. It was pointed out to him that, as we had been very continuously shelled from the city wall both from the Ha-ta Mên and the Chien Mên, it would be inadvisable to retire. Asked to send copies of the 'Peking Gazette,' he hesitated a moment and then stammered that he really had not himself seen the 'Peking Gazette' for a long time, but he would inquire and see if they could be bought. He never came back and never sent a 'Gazette.' His name was Wen Jui. When we did obtain copies of the 'Gazette' it was interesting to find two items that must have been especially unpleasant for him to have us know. On June 24, by Imperial decree, leaders were appointed to the 'Boxers,' or 'patriotic militia.' Among the chiefs was Wen Jui.
"The visit of Wen Jui was on the 18th. Up to the time of his visit, though more than four weeks had passed since the assassination, no allusion of any kind whatever had been made in any 'Peking Gazette' to the murder of Baron van Ketteler. Then the Empress-Dowager, yielding to her fears, published an allusion to the murder. Will the German Emperor rest satisfied with the tardy official reference to the brutal assassination of his Minister by an Imperial officer? 'Last month the Chancellor of the Japanese Legation was killed. This was,
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