This electoral law isn’t half bad

There are very good reasons to be annoyed at yet another majority that, for the umpteenth time, has chosen to change yet another electoral law in a bid to avoid losing the election. That’s how it went in 2005, when the centre-right, in order not to lose the election, passed the Porcellum (and then lost it anyway). That’s how it went in 2015, when the centre-left managed the miracle of passing an electoral law that was never used (some parts of it were later declared unconstitutional). That’s how it went in 2017, when the centre-left passed the “Rosatellum” (under which it lost the election). But when faced with a new electoral law, rather than simply taking offence for the usual reasons (we have too many of them, they’re constantly being changed, the opposition has been excluded, they’re afraid of losing, there are so many other priorities, and so on), we need to try to focus on the substance. And if one has the patience to study the details, it won’t take much effort to understand why the new electoral law, deep down, even appeals to those who describe it as nothing less than a sign of an authoritarian shift in the country. First, the merits. The new electoral law allows the coalition with the most votes, provided it secures at least 42 per cent of the vote in both Houses, to receive a substantial but not excessive majority bonus. Those exceeding 42 per cent can secure a maximum of 220 Members of Parliament and 113 senators, excluding those elected abroad. This means that for a majority to collapse, it need only lose twenty Members of Parliament or thirteen senators to cease being a majority. All parties exceeding three per cent are eligible for the allocation of seats. Within coalitions, the leading party that fails to reach three per cent is rewarded as the ‘best loser’ and is eligible for the allocation of seats. All others do not enter Parliament, and the votes for other lists that remain below three per cent cannot be counted, not even towards achieving the majority bonus. To qualify as a coalition, a group must not only present a manifesto but must also nominate an official candidate for Prime Minister. If no coalition reaches 42 per cent, seats are allocated using proportional representation, without a majority bonus. The powers of the President of the Republic, as they say, remain intact. The majority required to govern is a far cry from the two-thirds needed to amend the Constitution without a referendum.

There are no preferences, but if anyone is truly keen on letting voters choose which candidates to put on the list, there is a mechanism already adopted in 2012 by the PD led by Pier Luigi Bersani: the parliamentary primaries. So much for the merits. As for the rest, to understand how one might – madly, but perhaps not so madly after all – fall in love with this electoral law, one must ask oneself some questions. Is a law that helps Italy achieve greater stability, at a historic moment when Europe is being swept by a wave of instability, a problem or an opportunity? Is a law that helps achieve greater stability without resorting to the heavy-handed tools of a presidential system – one of the centre-right’s election promises – and without the botched mechanisms of the ‘premierato’ system, a reform rightly shelved by the majority, good news or bad news? Is a law that forces allies to take responsibility for being allies – without seeking some kind of sleight of hand that would allow them to be allies without saying so, perhaps without a shared programme, perhaps without a formalised alliance, perhaps without a recognised prime ministerial candidate – an anti-democratic drift or a reality check? And is a law that makes a hung parliament less likely – not ruling it out, but not facilitating it either – a law that may or may not help to simplify the political landscape without fuelling fragmentation, which is usually fertile ground for populist forays? To all this one might add that a large part of this electoral law’s objectives coincides with a series of long-standing objectives of the Italian centre-left – from the commitment to a majority system to the pre-election selection of the prime ministerial candidate – and also aligns with a current objective of the PD’s secretary, who, having repeated for months that she would never, ever be prepared to enter into a political alliance with the right in the forthcoming elections, should be pleased (and is) to have a law that makes a hung parliament more difficult.

The centre-left, naturally, is not happy that the new electoral law is forcing the broad coalition to abandon the Magritte approach (“Ceci n’est pas une coalition”: this is not a coalition, even though it is) and is not happy that this law is forcing the broad coalition to put forward a candidate for Prime Minister (the party that usually ends up in a dead heat – or at least in a run-off – would have preferred to choose the prime ministerial candidate after the election, not before; and even the M5S would have preferred not to have to compete for the premiership before the election, not only to avoid becoming too divided, but also to avoid the risk of making the ‘broad coalition’ vote unpalatable to its own voters, in the not-unlikely event of a Schlein victory in the primaries). The person who, on the other hand, cannot help but be enthusiastic about this electoral law – even if, naturally, she claims the opposite – is the PD secretary, for whose future Giorgia Meloni has perhaps gone to greater lengths than anyone else, having devised a law that not only makes it difficult for Schlein to achieve what she does not want (a deadlock, with the consequent risk of broad coalitions), but also enables the PD secretary to fortify her position before the elections through the only means that would give her the chance to avoid being dealt a low blow by her own coalition: the primaries. The fact that it was Meloni who went to great lengths to secure a pro-Schlein electoral law should give the centre-left pause for thought as to why the Prime Minister considers the PD leader an asset to the right (after all, apart from the referendum, the centre-right has so far benefited enormously from Schlein’s leadership). But the irony of why Meloni is rooting for Schlein is of little consequence when one considers what risks being the real black hole in the electoral law. A black hole that does not concern the mechanics of the system, but its possible effects. And it concerns a temptation that Giorgia Meloni, unfortunately, disastrously, might succumb to: using the new electoral law (and its majority bonus) as an excuse to justify a future alliance with General Vannacci, with the consequent scrapping of all that has been good during these years of ‘Melonism’ and the consequent transformation of the so-called ‘Stabilicum’ into an embryonic ‘Putinellum’. We must remain vigilant and avoid this, but in the meantime – setting aside the squabbles between the right and the left – one thing is certain: the new electoral law isn’t perfect, but it isn’t all that bad.