Some polite, some brash

LAST week I started to discuss the similarities and differences between the British and American political systems that often have a direct bearing on some of their former colonies, which inherited such systems — for example, Malaysia and the Philippines, respectively. I tried to zoom in on the subject of the separation of governmental powers into the supposedly mutually checked and balanced branches of legislative, executive and the judiciary and on the fact that the British system does not actually have such a clear-cut separation of powers. The British executive branch of government, which consists of the prime minister and his Cabinet, is in practice formed by the majority members of the lower house of parliament (Congress). Judges, too, are appointed by the executive without parliamentary consent.

The British could “get away” with this sort of essentially “fused” branches of government due primarily to historical and, shall we say, “polite” reasons. For at least the last millennium or so, successive British monarchs have been entangled in power struggles with members of the nobility, some of whom, at least in olden days, also aspired to claim the British crown. Many of these nobles evolved into members of the House of Lords, or upper house of parliament. With democratic sentiments having started to proliferate, a lower house, or House of Commons, also appeared,

mostly of lesser nobles who were

but now truly democratically elected. So, both of these houses, together with the British monarch, formed parliament in a delicately balanced sharing of power. Parliament is supposed to reign supreme in the United Kingdom with the House of Commons having emerged as the preeminent parliamentary component and the power of the monarch having diminished into a symbolic one. The historical British political preoccupation, I suspect, is therefore not so much between the legislative and the executive, which are both viewed as “democratic” institutions, but between the Crown and the subjects (both nobles and commoners).

And the British Constitution is an unwritten one, perhaps unique in the world, with parliament and even judges (in their rulings, which serve as precedents) being able to shape or reshape it as they like. But the British honor their constitutional traditions, and so but for the gravest of constitutional crises, are usually loath to “amend” their constitution. This is what I mean by being “polite.” A lot of political arrangements are done by historical precedent and even longstanding gentlemen’s agreements. For example, even if a motion of no

against a sitting prime minister, or a budget that his government presents to parliament is not passed, there is actually no statutory requirement for the prime minister to step down. But, for the polite Brits, that would be the “honorable” thing to do.

Not so in the United States. The US was formed by a bunch of British colonies in North America. They

- dence from the British because they felt that the British government had become oppressive, not least because there was no clear-cut check and balance between the branches of government. So, the Americans, when they got to design their system of government, decided to “diffuse” governmental powers both vertically and horizontally. There is on the one hand the tension between the federal and the state governments, which jostle against each other for more powers. And there is on the other very strict separation of powers among the three branches. The head of the executive, the president, is elected separately from members of Congress. Both the Cabinet members and the federal judges are nominated by the president from among non-members of Congress,

both theory and practice, the majorities in Congress and the president could belong to different parties, as is the case now. The president’s policies are often not enacted into law by the congress, thus frustrating and sometimes even paralyzing the running of the government.

For the British, this sort of “confrontational” approach to government is something perhaps totally unthinkable, verging on the apoplectic. The recent open parliamentary revolt over Brexit would have been something quite common in the American political scene, but is viewed as something akin to scandalous in the UK. For the Americans, personal autonomy and liberty is extremely important, and government is viewed as but a “necessary evil,” so it is essential that while citizens yield a portion of their inherent powers to

same government must be vigilantly guarded against, not least by this sort

of government, so that the branches would not “unite” and abuse or misuse their enormous powers.

And so the American Congress and the president are co-equal. The president does not derive his power from

majority, but directly from the electorate (albeit via the perfunctory electoral college). Therefore, a congressional sitting president would be ineffectual. The president may be removed by the congress, but only if he is formally impeached by a majority of the members of the House of Representatives for “treason, bribery or other high crimes and misdemeanors” and convicted by a two-thirds majority of the Senate. Bill Clinton came close to that, but still no sitting US president has been removed as such. The Democratic House majority is trying to impeach Donald Trump, but even if they succeed in doing so by sheer partisanship, the Republican majority in the Senate is unlikely to convict him.

The American Constitution is famously a written one, and has less than 30 amendments, primarily

amend, requiring two-third majorities from both houses of congress, and the consent of three-quarters of the states. Unlike the Brits who tend to prefer a somewhat “implicit” political system where most politicians are imagined to be “polite,” the American political arrangements are often “explicit,” even brash, testifying to the rugged and pioneering spirit of the Americans.