A Cautious Challenge to Constitutionalizing Anticorruption Commissions

Anticorruption commissions (ACCs) have had a turbulent history as a mechanism for fighting corruption. While some, such as those in Hong Kong and Singapore, have effectively executed their mandate to investigate and prosecute instances of graft, bribery, and other forms of corruption, others ACCs have been criticized as toothless, inefficient, or themselves corrupt. The failure of most African ACCs, in particular, has left some wondering whether these institutions were worth the trouble.

One influential view holds that the key to making ACCs more effective is constitutionalizing them. While a handful of countries began incorporating constitutional provisions on ACCs back in the 1980s, the trend towards constitutionalization accelerated in the 2010s. This practice reflected an emerging consensus in the anticorruption community. The 2012 Jakarta Statement on Principles for Anti-Corruption Agencies, for example, recommended that in order to ensure “independence and effectiveness,” ACCs should “be established by proper and stable legal framework, such as the Constitution.” Transparency International highlighted constitutionalization as a best practice in ACC design in 2014. That same year, a joint report by International IDEA, the Center for Constitutional Transitions, and the UN Development Programme (UNDP) cited a “growing international consensus” around the wisdom of enshrining ACCs in the constitution. And in the seven years since that report, some of the most high-profile, internationalized constitutional processes—including those in Tunisia (2014), Nepal (2015), Yemen (2015) Sudan (2019), and Algeria (2020)—have included an ACC in their interim or permanent constitutions. By my count, the number of countries that have an explicit constitutional provision mandating an ACC now stands at 23 and counting.

Does constitutionalizing the ACC help in the way that proponents hope? Are the benefits of constitutionalizing these institutions large enough to justify their inclusion in such a diverse range of constitutional processes? Possibly—but possibly not. The evidence is murky and inconclusive, but there are some reasons to doubt whether constitutionalization can overcome the obstacles that have limited the effectiveness of ACCs in the past.

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Corruption Should Be a Laughing Matter

Corruption is a serious matter—it sucks away public finances, undermines good governance, ends livelihoods, and consumes lives. It’s therefore understandable that many anticorruption activists center much of their work on getting people to take corruption seriously. But despite the underlying gravity of the problem, sometimes a surprisingly effective way to fight against corruption is to make people laugh about it.

Consider Alexei Navalny, the Russian activist whose attempted assassination, arrest, and imprisonment underscore just how much Moscow has recognized his power. One of the striking things about the explosive videos that Navalny has released to expose the Putin regime’s corruption is that the videos aren’t just shocking—they’re funny. People enjoy watching them because of their biting humor—and while they’re laughing, they also learn about Putin’s siphoning of public funds for his own benefit.

There are plenty of other examples of anticorruption activists effectively using humor as part of their campaigns. To mention just a few:

  • Last summer, Lebanese activists staged a fake—and deliberately comical—“funeral” for the Lebanese currency (the lira), as a protest against the cronyism and mismanagement that “killed” the Lebanese lira and tanked the country’s economy. A video of the “funeral” gathered over 10,600 views on Twitter and brought renewed international attention to an anticorruption protest movement that at that point was approaching its seventh month without much success.
  • A Chinese artist known as Badiucao has used satirical art to bring attention to the ruling party’s political corruption, including a famous “promotional poster” for the TV series House of Cards, with Xi Jinping sitting on the throne instead of series villain Frank Underwood. His art helped spark renewed criticism of the regime and is credited with inspiring political cartoons throughout Hong Kong’s democratic uprising against China’s controversial 2019 extradition bill.
  • In Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky was elevated from comedian to President of Ukraine by campaigning on an anticorruption platform. Comedy was a key part of his 2018 campaign—instead of traditional rallies, he held performances by comedy troupes skewering the corruption of the incumbent regime.
  • Back in 2004, the then-mayor of Bogota Antanas Mockus pushed back against the city’s petty corruption through antics like inducting 150 “honest” taxi drivers into a fictional club called the “Knights of the Zebra.”

These and other examples illustrate an important lesson for anticorruption activists: Notwithstanding the seriousness of corruption and the harm that it causes, humor can be a powerful tool in spreading an anticorruption message. As a rhetorical device, humor has a few distinctive strengths:

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Peace and Profiteers: Corruption in the Libyan Process

This past February, delegates from the UN-led Libyan Political Dialogue Forum (LPDF) seemed to do what a slate of other diplomatic tracks had yet to achieve: give Libyans hope for peace. On February 5, under the auspices of the UN Mission to Libya (UNSMIL), the 74 Libyan delegates making up the LPDF elected businessman Abdulhamid Debeibah to lead a transitional Parliament as its Prime Minister, vesting him with the responsibility of ferrying Libya to free and fair elections this coming December. With all the main warring parties appearing to come to the table in good faith, it seemed UNSMIL had engineered a transformational breakthrough in a conflict that has torn Libya apart at the seams for the past decade. As the process unfolded, the international community watched with baited breath. A joint statement by the United States, United Kingdom, France, Germany, and Italy blessed the process, giving the LPDF its “full support.” The UN Security Council called the election an “important milestone.” The stage was set, at long last, for a successful consolidation of power into one transitional government.

The only problem? The vote electing Debeibah was rigged.

On March 2, a leaked UN report written by the Panel of Experts, an investigatory UN body, revealed that Debeibah had bribed several LPDF delegates to elect him Prime Minister. According to the report, two participants “offered bribes of between $150,000 to $200,000 to at least three LPDF participants if they committed to vote for Debeibah.” One delegate reportedly exploded in anger in the lobby of the Four Seasons hotel hosting the LPDF when he heard that some delegates received $500,000 for their bribes. Apparently, he only received $200,000.

Just hours after the news dropped, UNSMIL issued a strong response. It threw its full support behind Debeibah, distanced itself from the UN Panel of Experts, and urged the newly elected Parliament to confirm Debeibah’s election at its first scheduled session on March 8. And while outside observers can only speculate as to UNSMIL’s motives, this see-no-evil response to the Panel’s bombshell revelations may well reflect a frantic attempt to salvage a peace process the entire international community has rallied behind. Indeed, proponents of UNSMIL’s position have argued that the long-term stability of moving ahead with Debeibah at the helm and keeping December’s election schedule on track is worth any short-term scandal, as further disruption of the process could lead to its unraveling. This position—which has been endorsed by experts and fellows from the Brookings Institution, the European Council on Foreign Relations, and others—may seem like hard-headed realism. But in fact, UNSMIL’s refusal to hold Debeibah and his co-conspirators accountable through an open and transparent process is a mistake. UNSMIL has chosen, as one Libyan lawyer and LPDF delegate put it, to “priorit[ize] expediency above all else and at the expense of due process,” and by doing so, UNSMIL risks undermining both the LPDF’s legitimacy and Libya’s long-term peace prospects.

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