This chapter asks how a politician can tie the amount of central government resources a group receives to the amount of electoral support it delivers. I argue that when a party is dominant, like Japan’s Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), its members will be able to gain the most votes, conditional on resources delivered, by pitting groups against each other in a competition for resources. This part of the theory draws on prior work that introduces tournaments to political science. I explain that in such a competition, politicians create the perception that groups will be ranked according to their loyalty in the last election and prizes (in the form of resource allocations) will be awarded on the basis of rank. By structuring resources so that the highest-ranked group receives the largest prize, politicians can encourage competition for this position. This drives up their electoral support, in all groups with a chance of attaining this position. This chapter fleshes out the intuition behind a tournament, the mechanics of how tournaments can be pulled off in different settings, and elucidates their implications for longstanding questions of interest, including the sources of incumbency advantage and opposition weakness, the degree of congruence between policy preferences and vote choice, and whether all democratic competition is created equal.

This chapter provides a short summary of the book’s contributions to comparative politics, political economy, and Japanese politics. Then, it sketches out a range of questions pertaining to different genres of research in political science, which future scholarship should address.

This chapter presents an overview of the book’s theory, empirics, and contributions to the study of Japanese politics. The theory is in two parts. First, I make the case that when politicians run for office in electoral districts divisible into groups of voters, from whom electoral support is discernible and to whom central government resources are deliverable, they can pull those groups into clientelistic exchanges, in which the amount of money groups receive is tied to how they vote. Second, I consider the nuts and bolts of how a politician can go about tying a group’s resource allocation to its electoral support. I elucidate one method that politicians in a dominant party will be able to use. The chapter then presents an overview of the empirical strategy used to test the theory, which uses regression analyses of original data on resource allocations and voting behavior in Japanese municipalities, 1980–2014, buttressed by qualitative evidence. Finally, the chapter presents a summary of the headline findings for scholars of Japanese politics. Ultimately, the book helps to account for why a single party, Japan’s Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), has been able to win almost every election in Japan.

Politicians in all democracies have goods to distribute, and they employ different modes of distribution to deliver them. They can offer voters goods in the hope those goods turn into votes. Alternatively, they can try to make the distribution of a good conditional on how someone votes. The latter mode is clientelism. I point out that the literature on clientelism has been preoccupied with the idea that politicians form clientelistic relationships with individuals. This has led to an intense scholarly focus on how politicians can consummate such vote buying deals to their satisfaction, given that the secret ballot prevents them from observing how people vote. I argue that under a certain configuration of political institutions, it makes sense for politicians to form clientelistic relationships with groups of voters. To do so, a politician’s electoral district must be divisible into groups of voters, at which electoral support is observable and to which resources are targetable. I take four longstanding questions of interest in the clientelism literature, concerning brokers, economic development, democratic integrity, and club goods and explain how the theory of group-based clientelism opens up new lines of inquiry in each.

Japan is the world’s fourth-largest economy and a close ally of the United States. Yet its politics are highly anomalous: It is a democracy in which one party, Japan’s Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), wins nearly every election. Even an electoral reform, expected to bring about alternations in power between two large parties, has. The chapter uses data on the outcomes of every Lower House election held since the LDP’s inception in 1955 and public opinion surveys to flesh out the puzzle of LDP dominance. It surveys three explanations for this. One emphasizes structural features of the electoral systems Japan has used and explains how they have translated into advantages for the LDP. The other two probe the reasons why voters vote for the LDP. One holds that voters vote for the LDP because they prefer its policy positions, ideological orientation, leaders, or reputation for competence. The other holds that voters vote for the LDP because of the access to central government resources its politicians enjoy. This chapter explains how over time, real-world events and empirical studies have chipped away at the explanatory power of each account. This warrants another look at this question.

Chapters 6–8 use a comprehensive new dataset on the universe of Japanese municipalities in existence between 1980 and 2014 to examine whether tournaments are being conducted within tournament-possible electoral districts. Using regression specifications designed to minimize the influence of confounders, weigh up evidence for rival theories, and take advantage of distinctive features of the two electoral systems Japan has used, I test two hypotheses. First, I show that LDP politicians make the amounts of money municipalities in their electoral districts receive after Lower House elections conditional on where each municipality places in a rank order of municipalities. Second, I show that the difference in amounts received by municipalities at different ranks is larger at higher ranks, which is also evidence of a tournament. In addition to regression analyses, I consider two of the theory’s microfoundations which are that LDP politicians are capable of lobbying bureaucrats and voters are aware money is tied to support, respectively. Case studies, anecdotes, interviews, election manifestos, and voter surveys offer evidence for these microfoundations. Finally, I use the logic of a tournament to explain why prior studies of the relationship between votes and money in Japan reached strikingly different conclusions.

Chapter 9 concludes Mobilizing for Elections by reiterating the volume’s core arguments and contributions, then by exploring the potential extension of its framework to other cases, including the possibility of expanding the typology of electoral mobilization regimes. Next, it reviews the implications of the book’s findings for democratic governance and discusses the opportunities for and limits of reform measures with potential to curtail patronage politics and improve the quality of democracy, including electoral-system reform to help shift polities from a candidate-centric to a party-centric focus. Additional reforms are also important, whether promoting bureaucratic capacity and autonomy or creating a more level electoral playing field.

Chapter 4 focuses on micro-particularism: distribution of money, goods, or services to individual voters and households in hopes of obtaining their electoral support. The chapter finds this practice is extremely common in Indonesia and the Philippines but is not entirely absent in Malaysia (especially East Malaysia). The micro-particularistic practice given the greatest attention in the literature is cash handouts; the chapter confirms that candidates in the Philippines and Indonesia devote much attention to how to distribute cash effectively. Despite the ubiquity of the term “vote buying,” the chapter finds that micro-particularism rarely involves straightforward market transactions, either in how disbursement is expressed culturally or in anticipated outcomes: these payments are generally not contingent patronage. The chapter reveals that candidates find cash handouts most valuable as a means of signaling that they are serious contenders (a process the chapter calls credibility buying) and protecting their presumed turf; most voters being targeted have, at best, tenuous loyalties to the candidates targeting them.

This chapter provides a historical-institutional account of the emergence of distinct electoral mobilization regimes in Southeast Asia. It does so by surveying the sequencing and development of the bureaucracy, parties, and electoral systems across Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines. In the Philippines, the focus is the early twentieth century, when US colonial authorities introduced elections before establishing a strong bureaucracy, enabling elite families to capture power and build local machines. Malaysia's regime is traced to its transition to independence and rise of an ethnically defined party that subordinated the bureaucracy to its patronage purposes. And in Indonesia, the key era is authoritarian rule in 1966–98, when patronage was centralized in the bureaucracy and parties marginalized. Over time, electoral and bureaucratic reform have tempered, but not displaced, those legacies. Only through comparative analysis of historical patterns of state–society relations, the chapter shows, can we understand cross-national differences in patronage and the networks through which it flows. The chapter also provides key context for readers unfamiliar with Southeast Asia.

This chapter introduces the research questions and framework that guide the volume. Explaining that the volume aims to understand variation in patterns of patronage politics across Southeast Asia, what causes that variation, and how patronage politics works on the ground, it begins by conceptually untangling patronage and clientelism. The chapter defines patronage as a material resource disbursed for particularistic benefit and political purposes, and clientelism as a personalistic relationship of power. It distinguishes among three types of patronage (micro, meso, and macro), the first involving disbursement of benefits to individuals, the second to groups, and the third referring to large-scale programs that are “hijacked” for particularistic purposes. The chapter also stresses that politicians draw on different types of political networks when distributing patronage, producing a logic whereby different mixes of patronage and networks cohere as distinct “electoral mobilization regimes.” The chapter introduces three such regimes found in Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines, and highlights the volume's theoretical contributions and scope and methods.

Africa may be home to the youngest population on earth, but its leaders are among the oldest; many are in their 80s. Most Africans, and especially young Africans, think their governments are doing a bad job at addressing the needs of youth, but young people struggle to gain access to power because ruling elites remain entrenched for decades. Nigerian president Muhammadu Buhari seems woefully out of touch with his young electorate: in 2018 he accused young Nigerians of being lazy and uneducated. Young people are responding. In the Nigerian capital, Abuja, a thriving civic society led by young people encompasses everything from promoting good governance and increased transparency to increasing young voter registration and mentoring the leaders of tomorrow. But cultural norms and systemic barriers make it difficult for young people to be elected and monetisation of elections is a further issue: the cost of nomination forms for office is high and vote buying is endemic. The upcoming 2023 elections are likely to be a key moment for young people in Nigeria, when it will become visible if the impetus of recent social movements can be translated into an electoral force.

Africa may be home to the youngest population on earth, but its leaders are among the oldest; many are in their 80s. Most Africans, and especially young Africans, think their governments are doing a bad job at addressing the needs of youth, but young people struggle to gain access to power because ruling elites remain entrenched for decades. Nigerian president Muhammadu Buhari seems woefully out of touch with his young electorate: in 2018 he accused young Nigerians of being lazy and uneducated. Young people are responding. In the Nigerian capital, Abuja, a thriving civic society led by young people encompasses everything from promoting good governance and increased transparency to increasing young voter registration and mentoring the leaders of tomorrow. But cultural norms and systemic barriers make it difficult for young people to be elected and monetisation of elections is a further issue: the cost of nomination forms for office is high and vote buying is endemic. The upcoming 2023 elections are likely to be a key moment for young people in Nigeria, when it will become visible if the impetus of recent social movements can be translated into an electoral force.