The Indian constitution was poised to create a new map of power, transforming the relationship between existing state agencies and new authorities. This chapter demonstrates how the individuals staffing the state apparatus were not mere spectators, passively following the constitution-making process, but actors who actively sought to influence, change, or resist the emerging constitutional order through both public and private channels. The success of the future constitution of India required a smooth transition of the organs of the colonial state to the postcolonial order. Turning their loyalty and ambitions to the new state and its constitutional order was not an obvious outcome in 1947. The chapter examines how provincial legislators sought to guard their autonomy; how the higher judiciary endeavoured to protect their judicial independence; the contested constitutional status of Delhi; and finally, how the ‘neutral’ bureaucracy who were managing the process of constitution making actively sought to defend their own jurisdiction and interests at the time. This process, which paralleled the integration of territories, led to the functional integration of the units of the state.

The conclusions aim to bring together all these strands and show how the armed forces in nineteenth century Peru were integral to the development of an incipient State, with a bureaucratic structure that can be clearly witnessed through the lived experience of its members. It is a social history of an institution that developed despite intense instability to provide a safety net for its members. This institution developed through trial and error, building from the colonial legislation ensuring pensions were handed out to the infirm, to those who had served for many years as well as to some surviving family members. With time this relationship between the army, its members, former members and their families became the glue that bound society to the armed forces, which in contrast to what had been often asserted in the past was much more than a collection of armed men mobilized by local leaders known as caudillos.

A common yet often overlooked political service provided by companies is funding authoritarian officials’ visibility projects – the key concept in this chapter. In the absence of elections, authoritarian officials often demonstrate their competence and loyalty to leaders by initiating ambitious, large-scale infrastructure or public projects. These projects prioritize appearance and scale over practicality, cost-effectiveness, and sustainability, as they are designed to enhance the officials’ political visibility in the system and career prospects. This chapter defines this concept and identifies the conditions under which visibility projects arise within a sector. It offers numerous real-world examples of visibility projects, including wastewater treatment plants, industrial parks, desertification control efforts, and programs such as “Grain for Green,” among others. It traces the emergence of visibility projects to flawed authoritarian personnel management systems that emphasize both competence and loyalty.

Owing to their scale and wasteful nature, government officials often solicit contributions from firms to launch visibility projects. Private firms, however, are at a disadvantage compared with state-owned enterprises, given their more limited financial resources. Consequently, visibility projects are often associated with the decline of private firms within a sector.

The introductory chapter details what is gained by using the concept of social role when studying power relations in Late Antiquity and how it ties in well with ancient ideas about why people act in the way they do. It shows how Late Antique thought and practice conceptualized social hierarchies in moral terms and argues that precisely the expectation that social and moral hierarchies coincide injects the dynamism in social interactions that this book chronicles. It also underscores that society was conceived of as held together by justice and shows how this was intertwined with hierarchical conceptions of society and the cosmos.

This chapter argues that petitions have hitherto been too narrowly studied as bureaucratic acts defined by Roman law and shifts attention to informal petitions, whereby any superior could be petitioned even when they did not have formal power, and to oral petitions, whereby immediate justice was demanded. Petitions then appear as reflecting a culture of entreaty characteristic for a hierarchical society.

Over thirty years ago, Benedict Anderson asked students of Southeast Asia: Why did French Indochina eventually splinter into three political units, while the Dutch East Indies emerged as a single national polity? This chapter takes up Anderson's challenge to evaluate the central claim of this book: That variation in the institutions governing colonial-era bureaucratic selection proved influential in either forging or undermining the horizontal camaraderie constitutive of multi-ethnic nations. This chapter shows that where colonial rulers introduced the meritocratic selection of local civil servants – as the French did in Indochina – privileged groups tended to outstrip marginalized groups in the competition for coveted government jobs. Meanwhile, where colonial regimes relied on indigenous elites to select local staff – as the Dutch did in the East Indies – there was little inter-group competition for government jobs, as elites tended to dole out jobs to members of their ethnic in-group, with the consequence of siloing grievances.

Since the mid-fifteenth century, the enrolment of the Ming Imperial Academy had kept increasing and the Confucian students eligible for official appointments had far outnumbered the vacancies with the bureaucracy. Despite oppositions to the seniority system in making official appointments in Chinese history from the fourth century onwards as Qiu Jun adduces texts to show, he proposed that it was crucial for the Ming emperor to adopt such a system for the fairness of selection on the grounds that the problem of too many candidates for too few offices needed to be resolved and that historical circumstances required changes in institutions rather than a strict adherence to received historical wisdom.

This chapter examines the relationship between a politicized public sector and democratic backsliding. It is argued that politicization of public employment is an important, if understudied, component of the institutional landscape that makes democracy vulnerable. Bureaucratic politicization increases the likelihood that backsliding becomes endogenous by generating electoral advantages for incumbents and by raising the stakes of control over government. Politicization of the state administration allows incumbents to dole out patronage jobs; introduce political loyalty tests as a precondition for accessing basic government services; press public employees into campaign-related work; and utilize state funds for political purposes. Building on this volume’s aim of untangling the relationship between institutional subversion and backsliding, particular attention is given to the timing and sequencing of these processes. Evidence from Eastern Europe and a global sample shed light on how governments in countries that once seemed to be the front-runners of democratization concentrated political power by extending the economic reach of the state and subverting public sector independence. This study contributes to research on the illiberal political economy that supports backsliding regimes and their capture of key levers of political power.

Nearly fifty years have passed since the federal government adopted its policy of tribal self-determination, and tribes remain subject to extensive federal regulations. For example, the United States still holds land in trust for tribes. The federal government holds title to trust land, so tribes and Indians cannot engage in activities on trust land without prior federal approval. Obtaining the requisite federal approval can take more than a year. Apart from the bureaucracy, trust land is inalienable, making it difficult to use for collateral. Indian trader laws are another uniquely Indian country regulation. The laws were originally enacted in 1790 on the theory Indians were too incompetent to trade with whites. To this day, the laws forbid “white persons” from trading with an Indian without first obtaining federal permission. The federal regulations extend to virtually all economic activity in Indian country, from natural resource development to Indian gaming.

In the post-World War II era, international lawyers have occupied the front seat in the study of international organisations (IOs). During the past decade, this disciplinary hierarchy has grown to feel increasingly unsatisfying. This chapter offers an anthropological take on the study of IOs building both on the past decade of anthropological work and my ethnography at the UN Human Rights Committee. IOs are frequently accused of ineffectiveness embedded in endless paper-pushing techniques. In this chapter, I engage with these criticisms and ask: can we find another perspective from which to assess effectiveness? What happens if we stop investing our analytical attention in what we think IO operations and their desired ‘impacts’ should be and instead engage in non-normative inquiries into what IOs actually do? I explore what can we learn about IOs’ visions for world improvement by focusing on the legal technicalities and material forms that define their operations. I propose that, instead of a hindrance or distraction, these forms embody ‘standards for a better world’ that are an essential component of IOs’ civilising mission.

This chapter examines the relationship between the administrative state and constitutional values and structures with reference to German and American legal and political theory. It recovers from these intertwined traditions three analytical approaches to the administrative state. The first analytical approach understands the administrative state to implement the constitution. The second understands the administrative state to generate new constitutional structures and values. The third understands the administrative state to displace the constitution with patterns and practices of rule that lie outside of the existing governance framework. These frameworks foreground normative analysis of how the administrative state ought to relate to general democratic principles and the specific constitutional rules that institutionalize them. I argue for a differentiated and developmental understanding of the relationship between democracy, constitution, and administration. The concrete administration of democratic values should allow constitutional rules to shift in light of social and historical context. The administrative state should not be strictly limited by, but rather should facilitate critical interrogation of, the constitution’s current instantiation of democratic values. The administrative state can and should hold the constitution open for the introduction and proliferation of new institutional configurations and forms of public life.

While the federal government has adopted a policy of tribal self-determination, paternalism remains. The Moapa Band of Paiute Indians’ attempt to open a brothel is a prime example. Prostitution is legal in the surrounding state of Nevada; nevertheless, the Secretary of the Interior prohibited the tribe from doing so despite acknowledging it “is a profitable economic enterprise for non-Indians.” Though the federal government was supposed to ensure the Navajo Nation received a fair return on its natural resources, the United States Secretary of the Interior assisted in a private company in swindling the Navajo Nation. Similarly, the United States mismanaged Indian assets for more than a century. When Eloise Cobell sued the United States, the United States removed a federal judge who was ruling in favor of the Indian plaintiffs. The case was settled soon after. Additionally, the National Labor Relations Board imposes regulations on tribes that it does not impose on other governments. The United States also prohibits tribes from accessing the bonds other governments use to fund infrastructure projects.

Territorial jurisdiction will require tribes to further develop their legal systems. People often assume tribal law is exotic, based upon ancient customs. While tribal law often includes customs, many legal systems do. Moreover, tribal law is often indistinguishable from state law. This is not assimilation; rather, this is to be expected. Many laws are universal because people generally want the same basic things. For example, theft and murder are prohibited everywhere. Likewise, tribes banned these offenses long before Europeans arrived on the continent. Though tribal law can deviate from standard Anglo-American law, different does not necessarily mean bad. Additionally, tribal courts usually resemble state and federal courts. Despite negative stereotypes, studies show tribal courts treat non-Indians fairly. Nevertheless, lack of funding – largely due to state taxation – inhibits tribes’ ability to develop bureaucracy. Lack of funding also prevents some tribes from publishing their laws. A possible solution to tribal institutional capacity is the creation of intertribal business courts. The intertribal nature of the tribunal will provide more resources to increase administrative capacity and help eliminate perceptions of bias.

Ottoman imperial administration could not have functioned efficiently without the documents produced by the central secretarial service, from everyday registers of appointments, orders resolving disputes, and financial records, to imperial correspondence at the highest levels. To be a katib (secretary) in the imperial council was a crucial role. From a surprisingly small, relatively inconspicuous number in the early sixteenth century, the central secretarial body grew in size and significance until by the eighteenth century the bureaucracy had become a recognized third arm of government, alongside the military and the judiciary; it provided essential ministerial leadership in the nineteenth-century reform movement. Focusing on a critical period of change from the mid sixteenth to the mid seventeenth centuries, this chapter introduces aspects of secretarial recruitment, training, and output, concluding with a comparison of two major letter collections, one compiled c. 1574 by the reisülküttab (chief secretary) Feridun Bey, the other c. 1640 by a later reis Sarı Abdullah (d. 1660).