Juan Linz, Bolsonaro, and Presidentialism

This essay is a collaboration between Estado da Arte and the "Bolsonarism: the New Brazilian Fascism" project, developed by the Laboratory of Politics, Behavior, and Media of the São Paulo Foundation/PUC-SP, known as Labô.

In a multidisciplinary and collaborative investigation that involves volunteer scholars from various higher education institutions in Brazil, the BNBF project aims to combine efforts to understand the current stage of the crisis of liberal constitutional representative democracy, the rise of far-right populisms, the degradation of Brazilian institutions, and the political, social, and humanitarian threat posed by the social and political movement of bolsonarism.

In 1990, political scientist Juan Linz published an influential paper warning about the risks he saw in the presidential system, especially in countries with deep political divisions and a legislature fragmented into too many parties (LINZ, 1990). A staunch advocate of parliamentarism, Linz argues, mainly based on the experiences of Latin American countries, that presidential regimes encourage conflict and polarization, create room for extremism and populism, and lack mechanisms to adequately deal with government crises, making it more likely for these to escalate to the point of turning into regime crises that could, ultimately, lead to democratic breakdown.

Since the publication of Linz's paper, much has been written about the ideal system of government (ELGIE, 2005) from the perspective of both governance and democratic stability—some of Linz's points were even convincingly refuted (CHEIBUB; LIMONGI, 2002; HOROWITZ, 1990; MAINWARING; SHUGART, 1997). However, for those reading his paper today, it's striking how accurately he seems to describe present-day Brazil under President Jair Bolsonaro. Linz's "predictions" range from the election itself to the relationship between the branches of government, the president's behavior, and the existing challenges to control and, if necessary, remove him.

Linz argues that presidentialism’s problems stem from the election, which is plebiscitary in nature and turns the power struggle into a zero-sum game. Only one candidate emerges victorious, and even if the other candidates represent broad sectors of society and the vote difference between them and the winner is small, they gain no share of power. The victor doesn’t need a legislative majority to form a government, whose ministers are not typically members of the legislature. As a result, they don’t need to seek consensus or build coalitions and might push their own agenda in explicit opposition to the losers. This sharp divide between winners and losers can lead to a conflict-prone environment and social polarization. While this isn’t dangerous if there’s a centrist consensus in the population, it poses a significant risk in divided societies that are going through a crisis and include extremist parties or groups with political representation. In such conditions, a highly fragmented party system could award victory to an extremist candidate with only a small plurality of votes. In countries with runoffs, even moderate voters might choose this candidate to avoid what they see as a greater evil. The personalistic nature of the election, in which voters pick an individual to become president, also paves the way for adventurers and populists to run campaigns based mainly on their personal charisma, sidestepping the traditional party system that would usually have a larger role in offering candidates and qualified staff that could fill government jobs.

The 2018 Brazilian presidential election appears to be a perfect example of the worst electoral scenario described by Linz. Polarized by the fierce 2014 election and the controversial impeachment of President Dilma Rousseff (more on that later), frightened by persistent insecurity, and traumatized by numerous crises, the largest slice of the Brazilian electorate chose Bolsonaro, an extremist candidate who built his victory based on his peculiar charisma and an anti-establishment rhetoric. Lacking a real party, once elected Bolsonaro didn't have anyone he could appoint to fill government jobs. He resorted to online ideological activists, his children and their friends, the "lower clergy" of Congress, and military officers he had some personal relationship with. Moreover, the population emerged from the election even more divided. Some voters viewed a Bolsonaro presidency as incompatible with a civilized society, others begrudgingly accepted it as the lesser evil, and a significant group saw him almost as some kind of deity that was (perhaps literally) sent by God to save the West from international communism.

Linz describes presidentialism as having problem of dual democratic legitimacy: if both the president and Congress are popularly elected, which of the two is the most legitimate representative of the popular will? In the event of a conflict between a president and a legislative majority, whose view should prevail? There's no easy way to solve this dilemma. Legislation might provide an answer, but this tends to involve a formalism that is hard for regular citizens to grasp. This situation can be exacerbated by the plebiscitary and personalistic nature of the election, which allows elected presidents with authoritarian inclinations to claim to be the embodiment of the entire popular will even if they won in a tight vote. These presidents believe they have been given the authority to do as they please until the end of their term. They perceive any limit to their power as an unacceptable obstacle, which could lead them to try and override other institutions through the abuse of tools like presidential decrees and by using the bully pulpit, the impunity their office grants, and their control over much of the public machinery to delegitimize these institutions in the public's eyes.

Again, Linz seems to be describing Bolsonaro, with his combative behavior and his almost constant hostility towards the supreme court and, especially, Congress. As evidenced by his words and actions, Bolsonaro clearly sees himself as the sole representative of the people and believes that this gives him the right (and even duty) to govern without limits or mediation. He not only flirts with a coup-minded rhetoric but shamelessly attends demonstrations calling for the shutdown of other branches of government. As long as he could, he refused to negotiate with parties and Congress—which he considers to be illegitimate—and tries to impose his mainly destructive agenda through executive orders and by staffing public bodies with ideologues. Just as Linz foresaw, Bolsonaro also uses the bully pulpit to incite the population against institutions, the press, and anyone he sees as obstacles. He governs solely for himself and his followers.

Being a populist, Bolsonaro's idea of what constitutes the people only includes those who support him. This harkens to another problem identified by Linz: the paradoxical dual role a president must play as both head of state and head of government. While a head of state should represent the nation as a whole in all its plurality and serve as a unifying and moderating force, a head of government is there to implement a specific political agenda and is as such inherently partisan. Even considering the incompatible nature of these roles, Bolsonaro's paranoid and combative personality, combined with his peculiar definition of "people," makes him particularly unsuitable as head of state—a role that even in more competent governments tends to be more naturally fulfilled by a monarch or ceremonial president.

Another significant flaw identified by Linz in the presidential system stems from its time rigidity, which hinders crisis resolution and negatively influences the behavior of political actors. Relatively short terms and re-election limits are vital checks on presidential power but can jeopardize the continuity of successful projects and prompt the president to hastily implement policies to secure a legacy that perceived as positive. The mere possibility of re-election also encourages populist actions with long-term harmful effects. The major issue, however, is when a president loses support in Congress and society before the end of his term, as there's no way to remove him solely based on poor performance.

Even without popular legitimacy and political support, the president, in principle, retains the right to stay in office until the next election, independent of whether he is a "lame duck" or causes immense harm. The only method for his removal during his term is impeachment. While perfectly legal, it's a lengthy, complex, and traumatic process that, due to its mainly political nature, might not have its legitimacy recognized by the most ardent supporters of the president being ousted, leading to further polarization and even violence. Depending on the scale and level of tension of the impasse, non-elected actors, such as the judiciary (or, worse, the military), might decide to intervene, potentially turning a crisis of government into a crisis of regime. Moreover, the death, resignation, or early removal of a president can result in a legitimacy crisis for his successor, as this person (typically the vice-president) would hardly have been elected if he were on the top of ticket.

All of these issues are present in Jair Bolsonaro's government. As Linz warned, the time limit of presidential terms and the possibility of re-election shaped the president's behavior from his inauguration onwards. From the get-go, he abandoned the anti-re-election rhetoric he had adopted in the campaign and acted to ensure his re-election at any cost. He undermined projects by his own government that might affect his popularity, engaged in combative rhetoric to keep his supporters forever mobilized, and used his powers to favor the interest groups that form his base. Not only that, but Bolsonaro quickly proved himself completely unfit for the job, before completing even two years in office. However, as a legitimately elected president, the constitution grants him the right to stay in office until the term's end, regardless of his performance. Adding insult to injury, it turned out that his incompetence was soon complemented by multiple high crimes and misdemeanors (i.e., impeachable offenses) and possibly even electoral and regular crimes—some quite grave. In particular, his disastrous handling of the coronavirus crisis and his increasingly explicit moves against other branches of government should have made Bolsonaro's presidency unsustainable. Yet, due to the system's rigidity, little can be done.

On one hand, Bolsonaro managed to shield himself from criminal charges by appointing a Prosecutor General who, in practice, acts as his lawyer. On the other, the need to focus on the health crisis and Bolsonaro's still significant public support make it very challening to remove him by impeachment or through the Superior Electoral Court, even if reasons abound. With stable support from about 30% of the population and a large group of fanatics heavily invested in his government, there's a considerable risk that ousting Bolsonaro would cause significant unrest. It's enough to remember recent history, where the legitimate, legal, and arguably necessary impeachment of the far less popular former president Dilma Rousseff led to the infamous "coup" thesis and heightened societal polarization. In Bolsonaro's case, the danger is amplified by how his government has engulfed the military. Generals-turned-ministers began using a (purposely) flawed interpretation of the constitution to redefine the military as a "moderating branch of government" that could intervene to maintain order. Not only that, but they also suggested that "abusive" decisions by other branches of government should be disregarded (meaning that the military should be above the branches that actually exist) and that a coup would be a possibility if the "other side went too far." Furthermore, even if Bolsonaro’s removal occurs peacefully and in accordance with the law, his successor would already face a crisis of legitimacy. This is because such successor would either be Vice President Hamilton Mourão—who would have hardly been anyone's choice in an election—or someone elected indirectly.

Would a parliamentary system be the solution for Brazil? Perhaps. On one hand, if Brazil were already parliamentarist, it's unlikely we'd see a Prime Minister Bolsonaro. Given that he doesn't have an actual party and only has solid support from a minority of the electorate, it would have been difficult for him to form a majority coalition that would hand him the government. Even if he somehow managed to become Prime Minister in a minority government, he probably wouldn't hold the position for long—a no-confidence motion would quickly remove him at the first major sign of incompetence without posing any institutional risk to the regime itself. On the other hand, given Brazil's extreme party fragmentation, it's doubtful that any party could form and lead a coalition stable enough to attain and hold power for a considerable period of time. Not only would this hinder the implementation of consistent and long-term public policies, but it could also give undue influence to small extremist parties. These parties could be the linchpin that keeps the current government standing, a situation seen in countries like Israel and Italy. For a parliamentary system to function well, there has to be a legislature with minimal party fragmentation and strong, disciplined parties. With the reintroduction of the electoral threshold and the prohibition of coalitions in proportional elections (such as the one that elects the Chamber of Deputies, the lower house of Congress), Brazil is indeed moving in this direction. Even so, there are caveats.

Data supports the longstanding thesis that a democracy's performance and stability are positively linked to it being parliamentary (SEDELIUS; LINDE, 2018). However, despite this statistical correlation allowing for general observations, the vast institutional variety among countries with various systems makes it impossible to pinpoint a specific regime type as the sole determinant of a democracy's quality and stability. One must consider not just the regime type but each country's specific institutional arrangement and political context. This is illustrated by the diversity of nations undergoing or having recently experienced significant democratic deterioration. These range from countries with semi-presidential systems, like Russia and Poland, to those with parliamentary regimes, like Hungary, as well as presidentialist nations, like Turkey and Venezuela. While the United States and most Latin American countries have presidential systems, the former stands as the world's oldest democracy, while the latter have been historically unstable. This difference arises from each country's political, historical, and cultural context, and their different institutional structures—encompassing governance systems but also factors like electoral and party systems, federalism, independence of the judiciary branch, and overall power distribution. These countries might all be presidential, but this doesn't mean that presidentialism solely accounts for their instability—other factors could include plebiscitary electoral systems, excessive concentration of power in the executive, fragmented party systems, or a history of military rule. Some authors even suggest a presidential system can be stable if it is designed to promote more conciliatory politics (LIJPHART, 2004; MAINWARING; SHUGART, 1997). How this can be achieved varies, but suggestions include adopting a more conciliatory electoral system such as ranked-choice voting[*] (HOROWITZ, 1990) or adding a mechanism to break the system's rigidity, like granting presidents the power to call new legislative elections while tying their own tenure to a confidence vote from the new legislature (VALENZUELA, 2004).

In summary, while the way presidentialism has been implemented in Brazil could indeed be a destabilizing factor, it needs to be viewed alongside other elements. After all, not every society's culture and traditions align with parliamentary or semi-presidential systems, and even a well-tuned presidential system can foster more conciliatory politics and enduring democracy. However, to ensure a robust and lasting democracy, a well-designed institutional arrangement isn't enough on its own. The state must have the basic capability to deliver public goods, and society needs a well-established democratic culture—something that Brazil, unfortunately, seems to lack.