1

Feminism and Rational Choice Institutionalism: Explaining Gender Quota Adoption and Implementation in Argentina

Amanda Driscoll Ph.D. Candidate

Department of Political Science Washington University in St. Louis

Campus Box 1063 One Brookings Drive St. Louis, MO 63130

adriscoll.wustl@gmail.com

and

Mona Lena Krook Assistant Professor

Department of Political Science Washington University in St. Louis

Campus Box 1063 One Brookings Drive St. Louis, MO 63130 mlkrook@wustl.edu

Paper presented at the Midwest Political Science Association National Conference,

Chicago, IL, April 2-5, 2009.

2

Abstract

Electoral gender quotas have appeared in more than 100 countries worldwide. This pattern is puzzling

from both a feminist and a rational choice perspective: feminists have long theorized women’s exclusion

from elected politics with reference to social norms associating men with the public sphere and women

with the private, while rational choice analysts since Anthony Downs (1957) have tended to hypothesize

legislators’ behavior in relation to their desire to be re-elected. Yet, many quotas have been approved

unanimously or nearly unanimously by male-dominated legislatures and political parties. At the same

time, however, not all policies have been equally effective, despite their shared goals of increasing the

numbers of women in elected office. To explain these puzzling outcomes in relation to quota adoption

and implementation, this paper combines elements of feminism and rational choice institutionalism to

argue that a fuller understanding of these dynamics requires attending to questions of gender, strategy,

institutions, power, and change. The approach is illustrated via a detailed case study of Argentina, using

a combination of parliamentary transcripts, court cases, and personal and secondary accounts.

3

The adoption of gender quotas constitutes one of the widest reaching electoral reforms of

recent years. Today, political recruitment in more than 100 countries is governed by policies aimed at

increasing the proportion of female candidates to political office. The vast majority of these measures

have been adopted in the last 15 years, in countries with a diverse range of political, social, economic,

and cultural characteristics. Although they may take different forms, including reserved seats, party

quotas, and legislative quotas, most are approved unanimously or nearly unanimously by parties and

legislatures with very few women. At the same time, not all quotas have been equally effective: some

have produced increases, while others have led to stagnation and even decreases in the numbers of

women elected (Krook 2009). These patterns raise two sets of puzzles. First, why have quotas been

adopted? This question is especially intriguing in the case of legislative quotas, which require that all

parties select a certain ratio of women among their candidates, usually through reforms to electoral

laws and occasionally also constitutions. Because the proportion identified is often significantly higher

than the existing percentage of women in political office, implementing these policies to their fullest

extent would require, by definition, a reduction in the number of men. If this is true, why would male

legislators vote for a policy that appears to be against their self-interests? Second, why have quota

policies had variable effects? These patterns are particularly perplexing with reference to legislative

quotas, which tend to stipulate very similar proportions of women, usually 30 percent. Given wide

margins of support for quotas among legislators, as indicated by their voting patterns, why have nearly

identical laws not resulted in comparable increases in women’s political representation?

Existing research offers several possible explanations. Feminist studies of gender quotas note

the crucial role played by women’s groups in mobilizing for quota reform (Bruhn 2003; Kittilson 2006),

as well as the strategic incentives of political elites (Davidson-Schmich 2006; Meier 2004), the ‘match’

with reigning political norms (Inhetveen 1999; Opello 2006), and the support of international and

transnational actors (Krook 2006). These studies therefore propose a combination of principled and

4

pragmatic reasons for quota reform, centered on the enduring power of political gatekeepers and

gendered opportunities for institutional change. Nonetheless, few scholars develop micro-level models

of how quota laws are in fact passed in particular countries. In contrast, rational choice analyses explain

quota adoption with reference to the strategic calculations of male incumbents, in a context in which

elites anticipate a preference among voters for male over female candidates. According to this account,

a quota for women may be in the self-interest of incumbents, who may perceive it as increasing their

probability of running against a woman and being reelected (Fréchette, Maniquet, and Morelli 2008; for

a critique, see Murray, Krook, and Opello 2009). This argument thus focuses more explicitly on decision-

making processes inside legislative institutions, but conversely, largely downplays questions of power

and prospects for dramatic change, as well as – more problematically – the ways in which ideas about

gender may permeate perceptions and strategic calculations.

Juxtaposing these approaches reveals that neither on its own presents a satisfactory account of

the events leading to quota adoption. Further, only feminist work offers insights into reasons behind

variations in quota implementation, related to the design of quota policies (Jones 1998; Schmidt and

Saunders 2004), the political institutional frameworks in which they are introduced (Matland 2006; Tripp

and Kang 2008), and the balance of actors for and against gender quotas (Baldez 2004; Jones 2004;

Murray 2007). By way of comparison, the main rational choice explanation focuses exclusively on the

case of France, and to the degree that it addresses quota impact, it simply points to the ineffectiveness

of this law as a means to provide support for its model of quota adoption. Put together, however, the

strengths of these two perspectives may compensate for the weaknesses in each set of accounts taken

on its own. The decision to combine elements of feminism and rational choice theory may seem at first

glance to be counterintuitive, given that research employing these two perspectives rarely intersects.

On the one hand, feminist scholars in several disciplines critique rational choice frameworks for a variety

of reasons, but two key concerns are that it is often sexist and androcentric, denying women the status

5

of independent rational agents and assuming male roles and experiences as the norm (Anderson 2001;

Cudd 2001). On the other hand, rational choice theorists tend, for the most part, to be silent on gender.

When ‘gender’ is mentioned, it is often treated as synonymous with ‘identity’ (cf. Akerlof and Kranton

2000), and issues of identification and expression are often viewed as irreconcilable with rational choice

accounts of human behavior (Calvert 2002).

All the same, some feminist scholars have drawn on rational choice theory to great effect, as a

means for unraveling what appear to be puzzling patterns of feminist concern (Harvey 1998; Murray

2007). In addition, several rational choice analyses outside political science have effectively modeled the

dynamics that inform and perpetuate patterns of gender inequality (Ensminger and Knight 1997; Luker

1975; Mackie 1996). While few in number, these studies illustrate the possible benefits of a combined

perspective, suggesting that there are potential points of intersection between feminism and rational

choice theory whose distinct components may inform one another in fruitful ways. Seeking to provide

answers to puzzles surrounding quota adoption and implementation, the paper begins by outlining the

elements of a feminist-rational choice approach. Building on earlier, more theoretically-oriented essays

(Driscoll and Krook 2008; Driscoll and Krook 2009), it argues that this involves attending to questions of

gender, strategy, institutions, power, and change. The respective contributions of feminism and rational

choice theory to each of these elements are discussed, with the goal of revealing the ‘added value’ of

this synthesis for political analysis.

The paper then applies this approach to an in-depth study of the case of Argentina, using a

combination of parliamentary transcripts, court cases, and personal and secondary accounts. A set of

nearly unanimous decisions in both congressional chambers led to the approval of a 30 percent quota

law in 1991. Although initially having only modest effects on the numbers of women elected, the

percentage of female deputies reached 40 percent and that of female senators 39 percent by 2007. As

passed by both houses of parliament, the measure was challenged by a few deputies as too ambiguous

6

and unlikely to have the intended effect. These concerns were realized in the months leading up to the

first elections where quotas would apply. At this point, however, individual female politicians began to

take risks with negative implications for their own careers to ensure proper application of the quota law.

Their work supported and supplemented by a large network of female activists, lawyers, journalists, and

bureaucrats, who publicized violations and, in later years, were party to various court battles against

individual parties. Without their efforts, it is unlikely that the statute would have been effective as it was

originally devised and passed in both houses of Congress. The implications of these findings is discussed

in the final section, in relation to their contribution to the literature on gender quotas and the limits and

possibilities for applying a feminist-rational choice approach to study other topics in political science.

A Feminist-Rational Choice Approach

The general lack of engagement between feminism and rational choice theory might be taken to

mean that the two are in fact irreconcilable, divided by distinct methodological commitments rooted in

largely different philosophies about the way the world ‘is’ and how valid knowledge about reality might

be generated. These are rooted in opposing opinions on the value of positivism: while rational choice

theory is often viewed as the quintessential positivist approach in political science, to the point that it is

described as ‘positive political theory’ (Riker and Ordeshook 1973), many feminists consider their work

to be non- or post-positivist (Ramazanoglu and Holland 2002), even if many also work squarely within a

positivist frame. For rational choice scholars, the aim of good research is to systematically separate, as

far as possible, empirical descriptions from normative assessments of the world (Thalos 2001). The main

priority is to produce a transparent depiction of the incentive structures and institutions which organize

and coordinate the dynamics of individual and social choice. Feminist researchers, in contrast, have long

expressed skepticism towards the possibility of eliminating bias entirely from social investigation. Given

the masculine assumptions embedded in what are often seen as ‘neutral’ political concepts (cf. Goertz

7

and Mazur 2008), they have been particularly suspicious of claims to produce ‘objective’ research that

do not recognize the subtle ways in which power operates behind the scenes of the investigation, in

turn affecting both the form and content of research.

As a result of these differences, some scholars will continue to disagree on core philosophy of

science issues. However, there is considerable diversity within and across these two schools of thought,

suggesting that a growing number of scholars may be willing to engage across this divide in productive,

and even unanticipated, ways. The universal aspirations of early rational choice analyses, for example,

have been increasingly abandoned, as scholars have recognized the need to produce more qualified

generalizations (Ferejohn and Satz 1995; Satz and Ferejohn 1994). As a result, rational choice theorists

have become more pragmatic, claiming neither pure objectivity nor universal applicability (Knight and

Johnson 2007). At the same time, feminists remain strongly committed to gaining accurate knowledge

of the political world in order to promote social justice and improve the lives of women. To this end,

they have been willing to experiment with a variety of research tools as a means to design studies that

generate valid knowledge while integrating feminist concerns (Krook and Squires 2006). The aim here is

not to take a specific position on positivism, but rather to open up consideration of a range of methods

that might be employed in a ‘problem-driven’ way to better understand particular patterns of political

behavior. For feminists, better research in political science requires, at a minimum, incorporating

‘gender’ as an analytic category, expanding existing definitions of ‘politics,’ and generating insights that

may be used to pursue some degree of political change (cf. Krook and Childs forthcoming). For rational

choice theorists, it involves connecting micro-level interactions to macro-level processes and events,

paying attention to how individuals make choices within constraints and in relation to projections about

8

the probable actions of others (Levi 1997). This suggests that a feminist-rational choice approach would

involve attending to five elements: gender, strategy, institutions, power, and change.1

Gender

An obvious contribution from feminism is the concept of gender. Although this term is often

elided with ‘women’ in popular and scholarly discourse, feminists are careful to distinguish between

‘sex,’ biological differences between women and men, and ‘gender,’ social meanings given to these

distinctions. According to one well-known definition, gender is two things: “a constitutive element of

social relationships based on perceived differences between the sexes,” and “a primary way of signifying

relationships of power” (Scott 1988, 42). Despite the centrality of this category in feminist politics and

research, however, feminists disagree with one another as to what it ‘is.’ Some argue that gender is

something that people ‘have,’ while others frame it instead as something that people ‘do’ (cf. Connell

1987). Still others describe it as an institution as a means for capturing the enduring nature, and social

origins, of gendered practices and ideas (Martin 2004). Attention to gender in feminist analysis thus

intersects in many ways with institutions and power, but is not entirely reducible to either phenomenon.

By way of contrast, most rational choice models operate on the basis of a generic actor, a stipulation

which conceals rather than clarifies how dynamics of gender might shape preferences, decisions, and

actions. From a feminist perspective, therefore, these analyses offer an incomplete account of the

problem at hand, as they cannot capture core features of individuals’ “psychological and affective

dispositions that feed into their ‘rational’ calculation” (Gatens 1998, 9). The concept of gender offered

by feminism thus offers a means to overcome a crucial gap in rational choice theory by offering a means

to model how preferences are transformed into patterns of political and economic behavior.

1 The identification of these particular elements are inspired by, but seek to extend, Meryl Kenny and Marjolein Paantjen’s (2006) argument that a ‘feminist institutionalism’ would incorporate attention to gender, power, and change.

9

Strategy

Strategic interaction, in turn, is identified by many rational choice scholars as one of the core

features of rational choice theory (Knight 1992; Levi 1997; Osborne 2005). Critics of the rationalist

paradigm have interpreted this postulate pejoratively, arguing that it suggests that actors are selfish,

cold, and calculating (England 1989). For many rational choice researchers, however, being strategic

simply involves considering what others will do before making choices, taking into account other actors’

beliefs and behaviors and, if necessary, modifying one’s own actions accordingly. Strategy thus assumes

a crucial role in the translation of micro-level actions into macro-level outcomes. At the same time, it

calls attention to the ways in which the preferences and decisions of individuals are embedded in social

interactions. Because information about the actions of others is often less than complete, institutions –

both formal and informal – may serve as cues as to appropriate behavior and a framework in which

action is more broadly understood. Although questions of strategy are frequently raised in the context

of feminist research, feminist scholars rarely theorize strategy per se. Yet, they have long recognized

that actors are socially embedded, such that their actions are often interdependent, in part due to the

fact that women tend to be socialized to view the world in more relational ways (Chodorow 1978). A

feminist approach thus might inform rational choice frameworks by theorizing ways in which strategies

are contextually gendered, or alternatively, pointing to ways in which distinct strategies are attractive to

particular sub-groups within a given population. In turn, the opportunity to think more explicitly about

how individuals’ choices are shaped by beliefs about the behavior of others may push feminist scholars

to formalize their intuitions in relation to a strategic lens.

Institutions

Institutions, as noted previously, figure prominently in feminist analyses although they are not

always explicitly theorized as such (cf. Chappell 2006; Krook 2009; Lovenduski 1998). Some versions of

10

rational choice theory, known as rational choice institutionalism, also give a central role to institutions in

attempts to explain various political phenomena. Institutionalist approaches of various types employ a

broad definition of ‘institutions’ to include the formal features of political systems, as well as the more

informal procedures, norms, and cognitive scripts, which often structure political interactions as if they

were formal rules (Knight 1992; North 1990; March and Olsen 1989). Many feminists recognize the

importance of political institutions. Most focus on the gendered nature of formal institutions (Chappell

2006; Kenney 1996), but some discuss gendered practices and norms in ways that are consistent with

definitions of informal institutions (Duerst-Lahti and Kelly 1995; Kenny 2007). This research suggests

that while institutions are gendered in ways that structure social and political interactions, new versions

may be introduced that reform or reinforce dynamics of gender disparity (Lovenduski 1998). A feminist

perspective thus not only enables analysts to ‘see’ more institutions, but also helps to ‘denaturalize’ the

social arrangements that sustain patterns of inequality. Rational choice institutionalists of various types

explore questions like the effects of individual institutions and why particular institutions emerge and

survive (Weingast 2002). Some treat institutions as exogenous to the model of political behavior, the

goal being to theorize how formal and informal institutions affect sequences of interaction, the choices

available to particular actors, the structures of information and beliefs, and the payoffs to individuals

and groups. Increasingly, however, many rational choice scholars consider endogenous institutional

development, exploring the emergence and survival of institutions as outcomes of distributional and

social conflict (Knight 1992; Greif 2006). As such, rational choice theory offers important insights into

the origins and evolution of institutions over time. This shared interest in the role of institutions thus

points to an important theoretical overlap, as well as the potential for mutual exchange, across the

concerns of feminism and rational choice theory.

11

Power

As the definition of gender outlined above suggests, feminists are keenly aware of relations of

power and how pervasive they are in shaping the dynamics of political life, including boundaries drawn

around what is considered to be ‘political.’ As such, a feminist perspective requires close attention to

questions of power, which are central to – but often underplayed in – other types of political analysis

(cf. Kenny 2007). In contrast, power is often a peripheral component in most applications of rational

choice theory, mainly because of a tendency to view political institutions as structures of voluntary

cooperation that resolve collective action problems and benefit all concerned (Knight 1992). However,

as Terry Moe (2005) notes, the political processes that generate institutions tend to create structures

that are good for some but bad for others, depending on which group has strength and authority to

impose its will. These observations are echoed by Suzanne Dovi (2007), who notes that democratic

institutions have been oppressive to women, both when they prohibited women from holding office,

and now as women rule and have been ruled unequally as a consequence of the significant under-

representation of women in elected politics. Bringing in a focus on power is thus vital to a feminist-

rational choice approach, which can in turn inform both literatures by modeling how power operates,

whether in instances of obvious coercion or cases characterized by more subtle dynamics of exclusion.

Change

One of the central goals of feminist research is to promote change, a commitment requiring that

research contribute in some way to positive transformation. As such, feminist work in political science is

full of examples of how gender norms can be disrupted through strategic engagements with political

institutions (Chappell 2006). By way of comparison, studies using rational choice theory tend to focus

more on stability, viewing moments of change as a transition between equilibrium orders (Bates, de

Figueiredo, and Weingast 1998). However, these two concerns can come together. Once institutions are

12

created, they are reinforced through power relations privileging some groups over others. Yet, the mere

act of uncovering this dynamic opens up the possibility of an alternative: “understanding institutional

evolution and change lies in specifying more precisely the reproduction and feedback mechanisms on

which particular institutions rest…for it is there that we will find clues as to the particular external

processes that can produce political opening and change” (Thelen 1999, 400). Stated slightly differently,

the rational choice emphasis on mechanisms by which institutions become self-enforcing may in turn be

instructive for activists in “highlight[ing] how and why our institutions are so resistant to reshaping”

(Gatens 1998, 2). A feminist-rational choice framework thus not only offers a revised approach to

political research, but also brings with it the potential for broader political transformation.

Application

The adoption of gender quotas is puzzling from both feminist and rational choice perspectives.

Feminists have long theorized women’s exclusion from electoral politics with reference to social norms

associating men with the public sphere and women with the private (cf. Elshtain 1981), while rational

choice analysts since Anthony Downs (1957) have tended to hypothesize legislators’ behavior in relation

to their desire to be reelected. Trends in quota implementation raise similar challenges, as it is difficult

to reconcile comparable levels of support for quotas across countries, as measured by legislative voting

behavior, with broad variations in their effects on the numbers of women elected. This is especially true

in the case of quota laws that otherwise stipulate very similar levels of female candidates. Applying a

feminist-rational choice approach, however, offers new leverage on these questions by highlighting the

need to consider the roles of gender, strategy, institutions, power, and change. In brief, this requires

considering the gendered patterns of access of political office; the strategic motivations leading male

elites to recognize advantages and disadvantages to quota adoption; the structure of incentives and

constraints on behavior inside legislative institutions, and once quotas are passed, the institutions of

13

candidate selection and the degree to which their effects are altered or reinforced through quotas; the

dynamics of power that determine the conditions of women’s access to the political system, as well as

relations between men themselves; and the potential for quota policies to disrupt earlier dynamics of

exclusion, especially in light of women’s role in mobilizing for quota reform.

Adopting and Implementing Gender Quotas in Argentina

Translating this approach into studies of actual cases involves three main steps. First, setting up

the analysis requires an overview of the institutional frameworks in which legislative political behavior

occurs. From this institutional environment, it is possible to infer and elaborate the incentive structures

of legislators and parties that inform policy-making processes. Second, the resulting model can then be

fleshed out using transcripts from the legislative debates and a range of other primary and secondary

accounts. The third stage, finally, is to explore how the adoption of gender quotas has altered candidate

selection practices in each country, both in anticipated and unanticipated directions, paying attention to

the ways in which various types of actors have shaped the impact of the respective quota laws. In many

ways, this research design mirrors the aspirations of an “analytic narrative,” combining a rational choice

model with detailed case studies (Bates et al 1998). However, it differs from the ambition of that project

in that it seeks to incorporate core feminist insights related, in particular, to dynamics of gender, power,

and change. In Argentina, this exercise reveals that the adoption of the quota law by a nearly unanimous

vote was in fact not surprising, given the high levels of party discipline imposed on legislators. More

specifically, national electoral rules interact with intra-party nomination and legislative procedures to

discourage dissent among national representatives in the Congress. Rather than open deliberation,

policy is negotiated and devised behind closed doors and between party leaders. The closed nature of

this process means that individual legislators who seek future political careers have every incentive to

toe the party line.

14

These institutions create important opportunities and constraints in legislative policy-making, in

the sense that they generate substantial momentum for pieces of legislation endorsed by party leaders,

at the same time that they undermine the emergence of new policy ideas from legislators themselves. In

the particular case of the quota law, the circumstances of adoption in both houses of parliament suggest

that many senators and deputies were not motivated by an overwhelming concern for the fair and equal

representation of women. The measure was first quickly passed in the Senate, and its passage appeared

to be a strategic move by senators to curry favor and appease women voters. Most available evidence

suggests that many believed that the bill would not be passed subsequently in the Chamber of Deputies.

As such, approving it in the Senate was viewed by senators as a relatively costless signal that would help

them appear progressive on women’s issues, with no concern that the bill would ever be implemented.

When the bill reached the floor of the Chamber of Deputies, it was challenged by a few deputies as too

ambiguous and unlikely to have the intended effect. However, these criticisms were dismissed by party

leaders who refused to change the wording of the bill, largely because they also did not expect it to pass

in the Chamber. A last minute endorsement by the President shifted the tide of support, although even

upon passage, few legislators expected that the new law would have a major impact on the numbers of

women elected. At this juncture, the actions of women, mobilizing individually and collectively, assumed

vital importance in the enforcement of the law. In the initial stages, individual female candidates took

enormous political risks, laying their own political careers on the line, to ensure the proper enforcement

of the quota law. They were supported by a large network of female activists, lawyers, journalists, and

bureaucrats, who publicized violations and, in later years, were party to various court battles against

individual parties. Without their efforts, it is unlikely that the statute would have been effective as it was

originally devised and passed in both houses of Congress.

15

Institutional Contexts of Policy-Making

Mapping the institutional contexts of policy-making in Argentina is crucial for a more complete

understanding of the quota adoption process, as these frame and inform the strategic behavior of both

legislators and parties. Argentina is a federal system with a directly elected president and a bicameral

legislature. As a result, the political incentive structure for most politicians is guided by two central

considerations: the province and the party. These two factors work in tandem to shape political life and

the behavior of individual politicians via the electoral system and means for satisfying career ambitions.

Legislators are elected to the Chamber of Deputies by a closed-list electoral system, meaning that voters

cannot express their preferences for individual candidates or disturb the order of the list. Nomination to

and the ordering of electoral lists is a primary determinant of who gets elected to office. The creation of

party lists is largely devolved to the district or provincial level such that local or state elites determine

the ranking of the lists.2 This negotiation by party leaders is quite political even at the sub-national level,

where elites must negotiate among different factions within the parties to ensure representatives from

each sector or interest group are represented.3 Nonetheless, control over access and ranking means that

legislators at the national level are beholden to local and state party bosses who control their political

destiny and possibility of reelection (Jones et al 2002). Moreover, state governors – who aside from the

President hold the most coveted political positions in Argentina – also play a critical role in shaping

legislative behavior. Governors control immense budgets and vast state-wide administrations and are

frequently the head of the party at the provincial level (Tommasi et al 2001; Jones 2002). Local bosses

and state governors are therefore critical gatekeepers in determining the political futures of legislators,

whether they pursue elected office again or seek to serve their party in another capacity (Jones, 2002).

2 While some parties (or some parties in some districts) do hold open or partisan primaries, many lists (and subsequent legislative delegations) are the result of elite negotiation in a centralized manner at the district level. 3 This is not all that different from the kind of negotiating seen between coalition partners in the United States, another country with two dominant parties (cf. Martin et al 2003; Miller and Schofield 2003). The main difference in Argentina is that these coalitions are largely elite negotiated, whereas the American primary system permits considerably more open political competition.

16

As such, deputies have strong incentives to accommodate the interests of local and state elites. A

primary function of the legislative role is not to devise national policies, but to deliver resources and

pork to powerful state actors at home.

A second way in which provincial and party officials exert influence over legislative behavior

pertains to patterns of professional advancement (Jones 2002; Jones et al 2002). In contrast to their

counterparts in countries like the United States, few Argentine deputies professionalize themselves as

such: careers in the lower house of the Congress tend to be comparatively short, with most legislators

staying no more than one term (Spiller 2007). Most representatives in the lower house move on to more

state-oriented positions, either returning home to serve their party or advancing to a seat in the Senate

(Jones 2002). Regardless of their political ambitions in relation to the Chamber of Deputies or any other

particular elected positions, legislators are in this way beholden to their parties’ leadership if they have

any desire to remain politically active in the future. Voting against party lines can be punished not only

by withholding ballot access, but by flat expulsion from the party, resulting in an effective end to a

political career. Moreover, partisanship is an entrenched social feature in Argentine society, reflecting

not only a personal commitment to certain ideals but an implied connection to a vast social network.

Vociferous party commitment is especially pronounced in the Peronist party, but potential expulsion

from any party would have deleterious consequences for most would-be politicians (Jones 2002).

The influence of provincial actors and party elites is evident in many facets of behavior of

Argentine legislative behavior and political dynamics more generally. Party discipline in both chambers is

strictly enforced, so much in fact that full roll call votes are rarely taken and then only on divisive issues

that are expected to split a party coalition (Jones 2002).4 Most votes are taken by either a show of

hands, or by party leadership voting on behalf of their party blocs, sometimes on the basis of state

delegation, other times for the party writ large depending on the issue. Dissenters from the party

4 In this way, party leaders strategically call roll call votes to enforce party discipline. Most legislators will not risk publicly voting against party lines for fear of future retribution.

17

platform generally abstain, rather than undermine their parties' position. However, such abstentions are

only granted with the permission of Chamber leadership controlled by the majority party (Jones 2002).

On the floor of the legislature, party elites control committee placement, staff resources, and access to

the floor to address the full Chamber. When there is a breakdown of party coalitions, this usually occurs

on the basis of provincial ties, reflecting disagreements between governors and national party leaders.

Consequently, the Argentine legislature is relatively weak institutionally and the deputies who occupy its

halls are comparably ‘unprofessionalized’ (Jones 2002). While the political system is classified as a

separation of powers model, much like the U.S., the legislature does not generally serve as a ‘check’ or

‘balance’ against the President, apart from instances where provincial governments dissent (Spiller et al

2007; Tommasi 2001; Mustapic 2002). As most deputies leave the legislature to pursue party positions

in their home state, they have few incentives to specialize in policy areas or devote much time to the

crafting of ‘good’ law (Jones et al 2002). By the same token, if the President is the head of the national

party and is able to maintain a coalition of gubernatorial support his or her policy agenda is virtually

unstoppable (Mustapic 2002).

Policy Proposal and Ratification

Turning to strategic behavior within these constraints, it is possible to derive some ex-ante

assumptions about political actors whose behavior is being assessed. The individuals in question are

‘rational’ actors in the sense that they will do the best they can to maximize their payoff within the

constraints they face. The institutions described above play a crucial role in shaping players strategies

and defining their payoffs. However, it is also worth considering more broadly the incentives of party

leaders themselves vis-à-vis a potential quota law, which only add to the puzzling question of quota

reform in Argentina. Composing party lists is a relatively contentious affair, which despite occurring

internally and behind closed doors, often requires a series of complex negotiations among the various

18

factions of the parties to guarantee that each sector wins a seat in the elections. When each ‘electable’

position is highly valued, displacing male faction leaders with women in these spots has the potential to

upset existing balances within each party (Durrieu 1999). In terms of its introduction, the quota bill was

proposed in late 1989 by one of the three female senators, Margarita Malharro de Torres. While she had

the support of women inside and outside her party, as well as in the Chamber of Deputies, her proposal

was advanced independently of her own party and was not initially endorsed by a majority of the other

senators, in her party or otherwise (Bonder and Nari 1995; Durrieu 1999). When the bill was brought to

the floor to debate in September 1990, a majority of senators expressed not only opposition to the bill,

but for some, a mocking incredulity of the need or desire for formal incorporation of more women into

political decision-making (Gallo and Giacobone 2001). Yet, the bill was later approved with only two

votes cast against it.

Closer examination of the legislative record offers crucial insights into this process, both in the

Senate and later in the Chamber of Deputies. The evidence is at times difficult to evaluate, as speakers

have incentives to misrepresent their true feelings when these are politically or socially unconventional.

Combined with expert and direct personal accounts, these suggest that individual legislators supported

the bill because it was mandated by their party that they do so. At the same time, the design of the law

– and initial experiences with regard to its implementation – also appear to indicate that the major party

in the legislature at the time, the Peronists, endorsed the quota legislation because they knew it would

be unenforceable in practice, and therefore, would pose little challenge to their existing candidate

selection procedures.

A critical reading of the debates that took place in the Senate draws attention to several key

partisan and regional dynamics that played a crucial rule in the passage of the quota bill. Despite having

been proposed one year earlier, the bill was finally brought to the floor to debate on September 20,

1990. Upon consideration, the committee through which the bill had been vetted was overwhelmingly

19

against the bill by a margin of seven to two.5 When the floor of the Senate was opened for general

consideration of the bill, a pattern of several positions emerge. On the one hand, Malharro de Torres

found a cadre of supporters from her party, many of whom commended her for her progressivism and

endorsed the bill explicitly on the grounds of fairness and empathy for women's under-appreciated role

in political and social life. In the words of Senador Braesesco (UCR):

Despite the huge number of women managing unions, political posts and small businesses; despite the number of women that work in the media and communication, the women that participate in the formulation of policies in our most important national business; despite the extraordinary number of women that surpass men in the university to discuss the most transcendental issues of our time to serve the national and international community and inform our work in committees to establish laws--we can see that they are notably absent from our Parliament today. And they are not absent for lack of competitiveness, capacity or desire. They are absent because they lack a mechanism by which they are assured participation in the national legislature...

Yet, on the other hand, the bill was met with disdain, with Malharro de Torres herself being met

with jibes, laughter, and sarcastic and biting comments about her assertiveness and women’s traditional

roles as the preparers and servers of mate, a popular regional drink. Transcripts of the Senate debates

clearly indicate her justification for the adoption of quotas being interrupted by laughter, unsolicited

interjections, or by side conversations occurring in the background (Gallo and Giacobone 2001). Despite

being formally considered by the committee for Constitutional Affairs and Legislation, the committee

chairman, Carlos A. Juarez (PJ), could not be present at the session for unspecified "inconveniences that

have nothing to do with this." More eloquently perhaps, but nonetheless dismissive, the proposition

was initially hotly criticized as being demeaning, rather than empowering to women, and fundamentally

unnecessary in light of Argentine women’s historically high levels of engagement in politics and partisan

life. It bears noting however, that for the first half of the debate the discussion appears to be dominated

5 Is unclear how the bill arrived to the floor for debate in the first place. Jones (2002) notes that party leaders in committees exercise strict agenda control over the legislative agenda, such that bills unpopular with party leaders will simply not be brought under consideration by the plenary body. It is likely that the open proposition by Malharro de Torres was taken at great political risk, and would have been interpreted by party leaders as a strident move, which might seriously jeopardize future political ambitions. It is unclear at this time if Malharro de Torres was punished or chastised by political leadership after the fact.

20

by only a handful of speakers, who jockey back and forth and repeatedly take the stand. Most of the

senators engage only passively, either by applauding the points advanced by those in favor of the quota

law and women’s rights, or by jeering and laughing when advocates were chided by their adversaries.

This behavior reflected what later commentators described as a general sense of uncertainty about the

vote and unclear commitments by most of the senators present (Durrieu 1999).

However, a marked turning point in these discussions followed a speech made by Alberto

Rodriquez Saá (PJ), a prominent senator from the San Luis province who was a career politician from a

prominent family and whose brother was the state governor at the time. He began by requesting that

the legislative secretary list the senators who had explicitly supported or denounced that the bill be read

and the votes in favor and against the bill be tallied.6 In his statements, Saá explicitly assumed the

position of party leader in the absence of the committee chairman. The content of his comments are

interesting for two reasons. First, though he had previously participated in the sarcastic chiding of

Malharro de Torres and he continued to avoid explicitly stating his position on the issue, Saá appealed to

the historical role of the women’s movement within the Peronist party, evoking the imagery of Evita

Peron and stressing the role of women in the advancement of the party and the country. Second, and

even more strikingly, he issued a rare but explicit absolution to his partisans, permitting them to vote as

they desired. He did so not once or twice, but four times before stepping down from the floor, saying:

I wanted you to read me the names of the supporters of the proposal as our (party) bloc has some who support the bill and others who do not. I expressly mean to clarify, in the name of my party, that the Senators who support this bill are going to be free in their action...It is simply not of Peronism to discriminate against women...And I think a special chapter (of the historical development of womens' rights in Argentina) should be reserved for the champion of the meek herself, la senora Eva Peron, for whom the Peronists feel particular veneration – but who I think today is the champion of all Argentines –as she first brought to light the issues and struggles of women...I want to make this perfectly clear that regardless of the outcome of this vote – for or against this electoral vote – we are all in agreement on this issue (of women’s equality), as it is an allegiance against the discrimination of women and a dedication to all that women have done in political life of Argentina. I could name not only Eva Peron but

6 At this point, the advocates of the quota had succeeded in winning the explicit support of two additional committee persons, though it was still not enough to approve the law for consideration by the full assembly.

21

all of the women that have had a brilliant role and have opened channels in our country that we all love so dearly. Again, regardless of the outcome of the vote, in the name of my party, permit me to personalize the most ardent veneration of the senora Eva Peron, as it is she who represents all Argentine women. And I do so, I repeat, without regard for the outcome of this vote, on which the members of my party bloc are free to act as they please. It is difficult to discern the exact intentions behind this statement at face value, as Saá did not

appear to openly support the bill, but at the same time, repeatedly absolved his partisans from the strict

party discipline that is generally an unquestioned requirement. As the Peronists controlled the Senate at

the time, their support would have been critical for the bill’s passage. At the very least, a remarkable

feature of this intervention was that, despite his confusing rhetoric regarding the senator’s own stance,

it conveyed to the assembly that there would be no political repercussions for voting in favor of the bill,

a move that seems strange given the implications of the bill were it to be passed and appropriately

enacted, namely that current legislators, or certain factions of the party, would potentially lose their

seats. However, if it were the case that – as subsequent accounts have contended (Chama 2001) – many

did not expect the quota measure to be successful, then the debate and adoption of the quota in the

Senate might be better interpreted as an opportunity for credit claiming, grand standing, and the

cultivation of women’s electoral support.

Whatever the intention, this permissiveness had an immediate effect on the dynamics of the

debate. Following this proclamation from Saá, the topic of women’s rights, their historical exclusion

from public life and office, and their immense contribution to the Argentine state took center stage in

the parliamentary discussion. Several senators previously silent on the issue took the floor in ardent

favor of the quotas as expressive defenders of women’s rights and protectors of the common good.

Each of the representatives made appeals to the history of suffrage, the plight and discrimination of

women, and the need to institutionalize legal remedies to correct the inequalities in not only the

national legislature but also society at large. Repeatedly, the speakers attended to their regions’

effectiveness in ensuring equal protections. Several of the claims advanced immediately after Mr. Saá's

22

exposition occurred in quick succession and grew increasingly more melodramatic. These speeches,

presented in chronological order, include:

Sr. Vaca, Peronist of Buenos Aires: It is necessary to generate legal instruments that take into consideration the situation of relative deprivation women face in their place in our society. ...The bill under consideration proposes that 30 percent of the listed candidates should be occupied by women, and I understand that to mean a floor to establish. In this sense, I hope that women can participate in 50 percent of the places in the same way they occupy 50 percent of the electorate. For these reasons,...and because the Peronist party of the capital has already incorporated into their Organic Laws a similar clause, I announce my affirmative vote on the initiative that we consider. Sr. Posleman: The project that we are considering today is of the utmost importance and transcendent for our society. I am happy to mention the good history my province and party has had with respect to the opportunities of women. Since 1927, the women of San Juan – the first of the nation – have had free access to political activity and the possibilities of electing and being elected...which opened the door for innumerous possibilities for women not only in our own state but in the larger society....In San Juan we can show with pride that the participation of women is significant and important...But it is evident that this proposition is going to compel the true and concrete possibilities of the participation of women. Sr. Lafferriere: The real perpetrator of segregation here is society. It is true that formal discrimination does not exist...be what does exist is a cultural deformation in our society, and it is working to subordinate no less than 50 percent of the population in favor of the other 50 percent, subordination that by its characteristics implies total and utter subordination....And situations which marginalize women also marginalize men, and marginalizes everything that women can do for peace, harmony and the solidarity of the human race....I give my enthusiastic vote and it is not a vote for women only: it is a vote that I give to all – and I hope my colleagues who feel the same will also give the same – as a symbol of the unity of human gender, as a symbol and a sign of respect for all of us as we are all trying to make our country more just, more solidified, more free and more equal...This is a step ahead that deserves our support, our respect and our applause. The most flamboyant of these appeals, forwarded by Sr. Tomas of Formosa, is as follows: Mr. President: the tumultuous history of this movement has compelled me to cast off my cloak tonight, and offer a "mea culpa" and a confession to the Senate floor. I say this because every militant Peronist carries in his heart – even if he doesn't know it – the sweet memory of a woman by the name of Maria Eva Duarte de Peron and, in our conscience we sustain our cause with the same faith, the same fire, and the same passion that she had for the future of our nation. Tonight, the author of this bill hoped she could introduce this same sentiment to the men of this session. If she did, I doubt very much that it of the same spirit, because if we approve the project as is, we will be committing the most egregious form of discrimination. When the 30 percent women finally reaches the doors of the Senate – which this bill does not establish how they will reach the Senate but suppose that they do – and they want to dismantle the privilege of the other 70 percent, on what basis can they do so if we have established this as law? I want to take it further Mr. President. As Mr. Lafferriere pointed out, 50 percent of the population works and

23

contributes and if we are going to be equal in conditions, I want to propose that this initiative not stop at 30 percent: it should be extended to require that 50 percent of the places on the list be reserved for women, and that if a party wins two places in the Senate one ought be reserved for a woman.

Again, it is not clear if or which of these pleas were made in earnest, or if these positions were

simply advanced in the interest of pure demagoguery. But there are several coincidences to note that

may tentatively point to the latter argument over the former. First, it is telling to note that these fervent

claims came only after the pardoning of partisans permitting them to break rank and not before. As

noted before, party leadership controls not only the workflow of the legislature but also the order and

access to the floor for debate, as each legislator must be granted permission to speak. However, these

enthusiastic appeals followed immediately after the address made by Saá. Second, compared to the

arguments advanced in favor of the bill early on in the course of the debate, these arguments become

increasingly abstract and rhetorical. Finally, according to a firsthand account from a noted partisan and

activist for the quota, many at the session believed it was approved only because the senators were

certain it would never be ratified in the Chamber of Deputies, or that it would expire before even being

considered (Durrieu 1999). This bill then presented itself as a perfect opportunity to garner support and

attention from women voters and activists, whether for sincere or strategic ends. Shortly after this

emotional testimony, the bill was brought to a vote.7 Remarkably, the first round of voting was not

enough to pass the bill, and Malharro de Torres was denied in her petition to have the vote be formally

recorded, so it is not possible to identify the coalitions which supported or rejected the bill. However the

measure did later pass with a near unanimous majority, with only two Peronists registering votes against

the measure. This outcome was met with surprise by the bill’s author, who later explained, “That day we

mobilized our colleagues asking for their support. However we did not have much hope...when the bill

was approved we were stunned” (Bonder and Nari, xx).

7 Jones notes that typically, roll call votes are not recorded in the Argentine legislature, and are most often called by party leaders on votes they expect will be divisive. By forcing legislators to cast a formal vote and be recorded, party leaders can force otherwise recalcitrant party back benchers to vote the party line, or else face retribution in the future. Most votes are taken by a show of hands or are implicitly negotiated amongst party or faction leaders.

24

While the approval of the bill at this stage might be viewed as an empty signal on the part of

senators, who reportedly did not expect the proposal to pass muster in the lower chamber (Durrieu

1999), it did served as an important impetus for women across party lines who were invigorated by the

accomplishment. Women’s groups quickly organized to rally public opinion before the vote in the

Chamber of Deputies. They mobilized women around the country to lobby their own representatives,

and to reinforce these efforts, they initiated a campaign to sensitize journalists and radio and television

reporters on the need for quotas. Pursuing a parallel party-based strategy, women in the Peronist Party

organized a series of women’s meetings to discuss the law with prominent male politicians. A small

group of women also approached President Menem, who pledged his support and encouraged women

to continue mobilizing before evaluating whether or not he should intervene directly in the debate.

In the days leading up to the debate, feminist organizations in Buenos Aires sent every deputy a

letter calling on them to vote in favor of the proposal (Reynoso 1992). On the day of the vote, women

descended on the capital from all over the country to conduct a “vigil for the quota” until the bill

became law (Chama 2001, 65). They filled not only the parliamentary galleries and hallways, but also

spilled out into the surrounding streets, standing firm from 4 PM, when the session started, until the

early hours of the following morning when the debate finally came to a close. As the session got

underway, deputies opposed to the bill argued against gender quotas and, met with jeers from women

sitting in the galleries, several sought to prolong the debate indefinitely in the hope that the women

would eventually leave. As the hours passed, female deputies who had not previously been supporters

of the quota began to manifest their support for the measure (Durrieu 1999). Even with this change,

however, many still anticipated a negative vote. Indeed, confident that the measure would not pass,

none of the parties had developed a common position either for or against the quota (Chama 2001).

When the day of the vote came in November 1991, the debates on the floor of the Chamber of

Deputies were monopolized first by female legislators who rallied and motivated the crowds of women

25

present, while appealing to their co-partisans for support for the quota. For much of that time, there

were not enough Peronists present to achieve a quorum to take the vote. Interestingly, only two

positions were presented in dissent of the quota law, but neither was on ideological grounds. The first

was a critique of the language of the bill, pointing out that as it was written the quota did not specify a

placement mandate or a required ordering to the list. The original legislation required that women be

nominated with the possibility of being elected. Critics of the bill, however, who included many former

lawyers, suggested that this wording left too much ambiguity for the application of the law. They felt

that the electoral judges charged with reviewing the party lists should not be trusted to interpret the

spirit of the law if the language of the law was not explicit on how to do so. A second set of critiques

questioned the sincerity of the Peronist government to the cause of equal representation and expressed

skepticism about its intentions to faithfully enforce the law. The leader of the opposition leader Socialist

Party, who eventually registered his abstention, elaborated both of these objections:

Sr. Zamora: Why is it, that despite our working to eliminate discrimination – in this case political – do we not see this law being effectively crafted to meet that objective? Because in practice there is the possibility of shirking the law. There is a caveat in the text, which is important. The bill states: "The presented lists must have women in 30 percent of the positions and in proportions with the possibility of being elected." Who will decide if this possibility exists? Anyone could claim 'anyone who is on the list has the possibility of being elected, it just depends on how many votes they garner.' Anyone could say 'in this party there is a greater possibility and in that other one less'... A judge could reason that while a candidate in a single party has little chance of being elected because they did not win very many votes four years ago; but to decide if a candidate has the possibility of being elected he could reason that if she is on the list then a possibility exists, and the probability of said victory does not enter into the equation. In this way, these judges will not find anything incorrect and especially won't if they are the typical machistas like the majority of society. It would be another thing if the law stated the proportion must be met in the first list positions: one man, one woman, or two for every other one, or some other formula. But the proposal doesn't say that. Why not? There are other features that render this activity demagoguery and this discussion misleading. The law has the alleged proposition of attacking the discrimination that Argentine women suffer, but what is the central problem that the working woman confronts today? Every day she lives more oppressed by her socioeconomic position, by the insufficient, hunger inducing salaries that the government and the bosses set. This is not different than the present discussion about political discrimination. But the same government and the same majority parties that are defending this project today are the ones that have supported and advanced this political economy, have endorsed women's unjust treatment and yet have produced a quorum here....If the same politicians who support the oppression of all women and permit

26

their discriminatory situations to persist are now the ones championing the rights of all women – that is a sign that we should reflect a little, and be more suspect of their intentions.

Despite these two sets of criticisms forwarded by several legislators over the course of the night,

the bill eventually passed by an overwhelming majority. While it is not clear from the legislative record,

the situation shifted dramatically at 2 AM. At that time, President Menem placed a phone call to the

Minister of the Interior, José Luis Manzano, asking him to address the deputies on his behalf and to tell

the Peronist legislators, the majority of the Chamber, to vote in favor of the bill. Several different

accounts have been offered to explain this last minute intervention. To some, Menem’s support for the

quota bill was consistent with his party’s historical commitment to women. To others, it represented a

relatively transparent attempt to close the gender gap in support for the PJ by catering to women’s

demands (Jones 1996). In either case, it was an unusual step by Menem who, both before and after the

quota law, sided decisively with conservative groups on issues related to women’s status (Feijoó 1998).

In his speech before the Chamber, Manzano expressed the president’s support for the bill and appealed,

among other arguments, to the legacy of Eva Perón and the party’s earlier quota for women (Durrieu

1999).8 Unsurprisingly, given electoral rules and institutional incentives, presidential endorsement of the

legislation was enough to convince not only a marginal few, but all of the Peronist legislators present,

whose presence was necessary to meet quorum requirement, and all of the legislators from the second

largest party in Congress, the UCR, whose party leaders endorsed the bill. Notably, party leaders in the

Chamber called for a nominal roll call vote, which is perhaps a signal of internal party dissention, but an

attempt by party leadership to enforce party discipline (Jones 2002).

Internal dissention within the parties was nonetheless evinced in several ways. Marcela Durrieu,

a Peronist Deputy at the time, describes the reaction of many male legislators to the bill:

It is "understandable" that the men reacted violently to the Ley de Cupos, not only on the grounds of

8 In the 1950s, the Peronist Party applied a 30 percent quota for women in party organs and elective positions.

27

machista prejudice but also for comprehendible political reasons in this context. The modification of a list in this way implied a serious political conflict. The expression of these reactions to the party leadership regarding the placement of the women on the lists was done without euphemisms. In the halls of the National Congress the men commented openly that they would be in the last places on the list, laughing mockingly with disingenuous enthusiasm. Female partisans participated with this belief as well, although never organizing into a formal complaint or an organizational demand. Two main women’s groups within the executive branch lobbied the president. At the same time, the most powerful leaders of all of the political parties expressed to the Minister of the Interior their ardent negative opinion of the law. Additionally, the legislative transcript shows follow up commentary from several Peronist legislators

who explicitly wished to register their objections after having just voted in favor of the law. Returning to

the issue of the law’s ambiguity, they again petitioned party leaders to permit a modification of the

language of the bill, so as to ensure its clarity and enforceability in electoral courts, which would be

charged with the legal application. This position was articulated by one deputy in the following manner:

Sr. D'Ambrosio: ...I think we should be hopeful but not hypocritical. If we have voted for women's participation then we need to make the text absolutely clear about what we want the law to reflect. To the contrary, with the bill as it stands, we will be putting into place an illusion that will only serve to frustrate our cause. With that said, I think the only possibility that remains is to modify this obscure apparatus...Concretely, I propose that it be replaced with "The lists that are presented should have a minimum of 30 percent of candidates of each sex in such a way that, at a minimum, for every two candidates of the same sex there will be another of the opposite sex. The list will otherwise not be official..." etcetera. This is the only expression that will ensure everything that everything that has been said here today with such enthusiasm will eventually come to pas). On the contrary, as it stands we are doing a pure gatopardismo.9 I also must express my disappointment in this sad destiny...that the Chamber of Deputies has become such that we must accept or reject initiatives that are imposed upon us from other branches, effectively renouncing...our perfectly established constitutional mandates as the reviewing Chamber in this bill...I do not understand why the Senate cannot reanalyze a text with the objective of clarifying that which, with enthusiasm and – I want to believe – sincerity, 95 percent of its members supported. If we really want the participation of women we should pass a law with clear text and objectives and not be hypocrites about it.

However, the party leaders, as well as the crowds in the galleries, were ultimately unwilling to

relent to the dissenters’ requests. Responses were short and to the point, cutting off the debate:

9 Gatopardismo is a term frequently used to characterize reformative processes that are in all actuality meant to change nothing. Formally defined, gatopardismo is "the actions taken by those who quietly or secretly oppose change, but who paradoxically promote reforms such that in reality, nothing changes" (Faciolince, 2006).

28

Sr. Alvarez Echague: I am afraid we have regressed to a discussion which pertains much more to the debate in general rather than the particular treatment we have here. For that reason...the Committee of Constitutional Affairs will not accept modifications to the bill, but we will instead vote on the same bill that has been passed by the Senate. Sr. Matzkin: Mr. President, the Peronist party will support the project without modifications. (Applause in the galleries) Sr. Cruchaga: Mr. President, in the name of the party block of the Union Civica Radical, I ratify our vote on the Committee of Constitutional Affairs, and consequentially, support the proposition just made by Sr. Alvarez Echague. The result of these debates was that the measure passed nearly unanimously at 3 AM with the

support of all the party blocs except the Union of the Democratic Center and the Movement towards

Socialism. This outcome is striking, in light of how legislators’ public views on the quota bill changed

dramatically over time. In the words of Durrieu:

It is curious to observe the incoherence between the previous parliamentary speeches and the result of the voting. There were three abstentions and seven votes against it, while 142 voted in favor...In the parliamentary record of the session it is clear that that despite the feminist organization and movement, the law would not have been approved were it not for the presidential intervention. Just as in other opportunities, the real protagonists in this case were the party leaders (1999, 145). Policy Implementation and Effectiveness

The bill passed in both houses of congress became Law 24.012 and amended Article 60 of the

Electoral Code to establish that lists of candidates must include 30 percent women, in proportions which

make their election possible, and lists that do not comply with this requirement would not be approved.

In the run-up to elections two years later, the suspicions expressed by the lone critics in the debate were

realized with regard the enforcement and interpretation of the bill. The meaning of the phrase, “in

proportions which make their election possible,” generated extensive debate, with some interpreting it

to cover the entire party list and others to apply only to the seats that the party expected to win. As a

29

result, most lists included 30 percent women among their candidates, but not 30 percent women among

their candidates who were likely to be elected. Most party leaders, in fact, were quite open regarding

their intentions not to implement the placement provision. Some party officials made rude comments to

female deputies in the hallways of the Chamber, and all informed the Ministry of the Interior that they

would not enforce the decree (Durrieu 1999), leading to systematic violations across all parties and all

provinces (Lubertino 2000). Many women inside the parties, for their part, resigned themselves to the

fact that the quota simply would likely not be implemented to its fullest extent (Marx and Sampaolesi

1993). Marcela Durrieu describes the physical intimidation she felt from men from her own party in the

legislature following the passage of the quota:

When I attended the first session after the installation of the law, the majority of the deputies understood these conditions and what the law meant for them, and the level of aggression I felt from my co-partisans was so intense I almost felt it physically. I will try to express it with images: deputies from every party faction circled around me in a similar manner: in language more or less violent, they signaled their outrage over this "insane" measure that had been taken, an action for which they considered me solely responsible.

On its own, therefore, the mere adoption of the quota law was simply not sufficient to ensure

that the number of women in parliament would increase. Despite the large majority of legislators who

voted in favor of the quota, the underlying commitment to women’s fair and equal representation was

ostensibly absent in the party leadership across the country (Durrieu 1999). In a much needed move, the

President stepped in to clarify quota requirements by issuing Executive Decree 379/93 on International

Women’s Day in March 1993. This decree established that 30 percent is understood as a minimum

percentage of female candidates that should apply to the whole list, as well as to the number of seats

that any given political grouping expected to win in a particular election. To ensure proper application of

this principle, an annex was attached outlining exactly how many women should be included depending

on the number of party seats up for re-election. In cases of non-compliance, an article mandated that

parties had 48 hours to rectify their lists before these were definitively rejected by the electoral courts.

Such moments of non-compliance, however, were mainly challenged from below. To spread information

30

rapidly on the composition of the lists in each electoral district, female bureaucrats and party officials

organized a communication network that relied on help from female candidates in the parties whose

lists did not conform to the law. They found female lawyers female lawyers who agreed to represent

them on a pro bono basis to challenge these violations in the electoral courts. Working simultaneously

in all 24 electoral districts, they examined more than 200 lists and quickly distributed details on every

violation to their sponsors in each province. To ensure media coverage, they established a network of

female journalists in almost all the provinces who publicized cases of non-compliance, as well as the

work of the women who sought the rejection of the illegal lists (Chama 2001; Durrieu 1999).

The campaign resulted in more than 30 lawsuits (Jones 1996). However, women’s groups faced

resistance from electoral court judges, who argued that the quota law was not a law affecting public

order and thus the only person who could contest non-compliance was the victim who had been placed

too far down on her own party’s list. For reasons of party loyalty and even intimidation, many women

declined to pursue these types of legal challenges. This procedural obstacle sparked creativity among

supporters, who presented fictitious victims to attract media attention for their cause. Although all

judges deemed these cases inadmissible, some still did not approve the candidate lists and sent them

back to the parties so that they could be redone in conformity with the law. In the few cases where

female candidates did decide to take their own parties to court, these efforts entailed significant

political and economic costs for the women involved. In the province of Santiago del Estero, one female

candidate was placed third on the UCR list when, by her interpretation of the law, she should have been

placed at least second. She informed the provincial leader of the UCR that the party was in violation of

the law and risked having its list rejected. He responded by revoking her party membership and

removing her name from the party list for her “anti-party activities” (Durrieu 1999; Jones 1996). In the

province of Entre Ríos, a female deputy in the PJ came to a similar conclusion that, according to the law,

she should have been placed at least third, rather than fourth, on her party’s list. She was forced to

31

draw on her own resources to finance a 9-month court battle, but her case eventually reached the

Supreme Court, which confirmed her interpretation of the law. This decision, known popularly as the

Darci Sampietro case, also concluded that Law 24.012 was a public order law, meaning that federal

judges had an obligation to apply it, despite whatever conflicts might exist between the law and

individual party charters and other internal party decisions.

Over the next few months, the National Electoral Chamber established a number of other

important legal clarifications. These included the meaning of the phrase “in proportions which make

their election possible,” which was to be understood as equal to the number of seats that a party had up

for re-election; the applicability of the quota law to all parliamentary elections, regardless of the specific

electoral system employed; and the legality of the quota with regard to the constitutional principle of

equality before the law. These victories not only legitimated the quota law, but also inspired more and

more female candidates to challenge partial implementation (Minyerski 2001). Although the campaign

did experience some setbacks, as in cases where favorable judgments were reversed on appeal (Durrieu

1999), the various legal battles resulted in the quota being implemented correctly in more than 90

percent of all electoral districts and by the majority of political parties (Chama 2001). The five party lists

that failed to comply with the law were deemed admissible either because the list had been created

prior to the executive decree, or because district-level judges had accepted it based on an incorrect

interpretation of the law (Jones 1996, 91, n. 5). As a result of these changes in candidate selection, the

percentage of women in the Chamber of Deputies increased from 6 percent in 1991 to 14 percent in

1993 (Inter-Parliamentary Union 1995, 58). The modest nature of this increase can be explained by the

fact that the law applied to only the half of the Chamber’s 257 seats that were up for election in 1993;

the law would apply to the other seats for the first time in 1995, when the other half were renewed.

As parties began to prepare for the 1995 parliamentary elections, women’s groups again waged

a legal campaign to ensure compliance with the quota. The earlier lawsuits, combined with the various

32

constitutional reforms, created a more favorable environment than in 1993. All of the lists had at least

one woman in the third position, and thus the campaign had to dispute only 8 percent of the lists

because they did not conform to the law in other ways. For this reason, women’s groups concentrated

their efforts in only a few provinces where parties continued to present 30 percent female candidates

but not in positions where they were likely to be elected. In a case originating in Tucumán, the network

secured an important victory when the provincial court rejected the petition of the National Women’s

Council on the grounds that it did not have legal standing to challenge any of these party lists. When it

appealed this decision to the National Electoral Chamber, the latter court declared the legitimacy of the

Council, as well as any member of the party in question, to contest party lists in any given electoral

district. In justifying this decision, the Chamber argued that when parties did not present lists that

conform to the law, voters suffered a harm which deprived them of voting for their preferred party lists,

and thus could not be denied legal standing to require that this right be respected (Minyerski 2001).

Around this same time, the National Electoral Chamber rendered judgments on two other cases

which not only reinforced the double condition of the quota law – proportion and placement – but also

specified the placement of women when parties anticipate winning only one or two seats. It decided

that placing a woman in the third position did not satisfy the provisions of the law because it resulted in

100 percent male representation. Although placing a woman second when a party won two seats would

led to the election of 50 percent women, the court noted that the 30 percent set by the quota law

constituted a minimum percentage. To comply with the law, therefore, parties were obligated to place a

woman in one of the first two spots if they were likely to win less than three seats. Supporters of the

quota law obtained further support for their cause when the National Ombudsman requested that the

National Electoral Chamber and the Attorney General ensure that electoral court judges verify that all

lists of candidates comply with the law, the Constitution, and the presidential decree. The Attorney

General responded by instructing federal prosecutors to take all actions necessary to guarantee that the

33

law was not violated, as well as by monitoring electoral court judges and replacing those who did not

respect these orders. As a consequence, various parties were compelled to redo their lists, meaning that

many more complied with the law in 1995 than in 1993. Most parties still placed women in the lowest

positions allowed by the law (Jones 1996), but the proportion of women elected to the Chamber of

Deputies increased to 22 percent in 1995 (Inter-Parliamentary Union 1995, 58).

The National Women’s Council built on these gains in the months leading up to election in 1997

by reminding the relevant judicial authorities of their obligation to guarantee quota implementation.

Discovering 11 lists to be in violation of the quota law, the courts ordered these parties to rectify their

lists on the grounds that they were unconstitutional and a breach of effective rights (Chama 2001). As a

result, the percentage of women in the Chamber of Deputies rose to 28 percent (Chama 2002, 3). Before

the 1999 elections, however, some parties continued to ignore the requirement to place women at least

second in cases where the party anticipated winning only one or two seats. As a result, the UCR-Frepaso

alliance – which did particularly well that year – increased its representation with two men in numerous

constituencies, while the new party Action for the Republic obtained single seats in various districts with

all its lists headed by men. Because the election brought fewer women into the Chamber in 1999

(33/130) than in 1997 (37/127), the elections resulted in a slight drop in the percentage of women in the

Chamber of Deputies to 27 percent (Carrio 2002, 3; Chama 2001, 112-113). These patterns, combined

with the impending Senate elections in 2001, led to renewed discussion in Argentina regarding the

placement of female candidates when parties expect to win only one or two seats in a given electoral

district. While this requirement affected elections to the Chamber of Deputies, especially in the case of

smaller parties, it had crucial implications for the applicability of the quota law to Senate elections.

Reforms in 1994 had not only made these elections direct beginning in 2001, but had also established

that the party with the most votes in each district would win two seats, while the party with the second

highest number of votes would gain one seat.

34

As this debate got underway, the Inter-American Commission of Human Rights (IACHR) agreed

to hear a petition submitted by an Argentine woman with regard to the specific placement of female

candidates on party lists. First waged within the national electoral courts, this case revolved around the

specific questions of placement and the meaning of the phrase “in proportions which make their

election possible.” The claimant, María Teresa Merciadri de Morini, challenged the UCR in the province

of Córdoba in 1993 for placing women fourth and sixth on a list of six candidates. Because the UCR was

likely to return only five deputies, she argued, two women should have been placed in the first five list

positions as outlined by Executive Decree 379/93. As her case moved through the judicial system, it was

rejected on several grounds: she was a member of the UCR in Córdoba, but not the particular candidate

affected by the implementation decision; she confused “probability” with “possibility” of being elected;

and she misinterpreted the quota law and the presidential decree, which calculated the proportion of

women according to the number of seats being elected in each province, not by each party (Minyerski

2001). Although other cases had established legal precedents to the contrary, Merciadri de Morini

lacked any further recourse within the national court system. She therefore appealed the decision to the

IACHR on the grounds that her rights to due process, participation in government, equality before the

law, and effective recourse, as set forth in the American Convention on Human Rights, had been

violated by the Argentine Republic (Inter-American Commission on Human Rights 1999).

After the IACHR declared itself competent to hear this case, the government engaged in a series

of communications with the Commission in 2000 (Carrio 2002; Inter-American Commission on Human

Rights 2001). Despite its earlier claims that the IACHR lacked authority to challenge the composition of

electoral lists, the government of Fernando de la Rúa eventually issued Executive Decree 1.246 in

December 2000 clarifying the provisions for implementing Law 24.012. This decree recognized that

despite the regulations established by Decree 379/93, political parties continued to interpret the law in

different ways, a problem that was exacerbated by inconsistent rulings by the various local and national

35

courts. The new decree reiterated that the 30 percent quota applied to the number of seats that each

party had up for re-election, as well as the right of any person registered to vote in a particular electoral

district to challenge lists they judged to be in violation of the law. To resolve issues of placement, it

outlined detailed regulations regarding the list positions of female candidates and alternates: while the

first person on the list may be a man or a woman, the second person on the list must be someone of the

opposite sex; when two seats were up for re-election, one of the nominees must be a woman; when one

or two seats are up for re-election, placing a woman third is not in compliance with the law; overall, lists

must include at least one woman for every two men in order to meet the minimum percentage; until

the 30 percent requirement is met, no three consecutive slots may be filled by members of the same

sex; and should women on the list drop out of the race for any reason, they must be replaced by other

women, while men in the same situation may be replaced by men or women.

The decree mandated that parties amend their by-laws to incorporate these provisions before

the 2001 elections. In addition, it established a common procedure for rectifying lists that did not

comply: when parties come to register their lists, electoral court judges must verify whether women are

placed on party lists below where they should have been; in cases of violation, judges must notify

parties to reorder their lists; parties must comply within 48 hours of this decision; and, if the ruling is not

obeyed, judges themselves must move the women to higher positions on the lists. In response to these

changes, a friendly settlement was reached between Merciadri de Morini and the government in March

2001. As a result of these negotiations, the October 2001 elections witnessed the full application of the

quota provision for elections to the Chamber of Deputies, where women’s representation increased

from to 30 percent, and to the Senate, where the proportion of women jumped from 3 percent to 35

percent (Carrio 2002, 3). These figures shifted to 34 percent and 44 percent in 2003, 36 percent and 42

percent in 2005, and 40 percent and 39 percent in 2007 (Inter-Parliamentary Union 2009; Marx, Borner,

and Caminotti 2007, 81-83). The effectiveness of the quota law in Argentina, therefore, did not emerge

36

directly from the design of the law as it was passed by senators and deputies in 1990 and 1991. Indeed,

despite their nearly unanimous vote in support of the measure, few office-holders and party officials

intended that the quota be implemented to its fullest extent. Rather, full compliance was the result of

an extended campaign among women’s groups, which solicited key responses from electoral court

judges and two presidents, who designated with increasing specificity how the quota law should be

understood and applied in practice.

Conclusions

The rapid diffusion of gender quotas around the globe in recent years raises a number of puzzles

for the theory and practice of politics. The passage of many quota laws by near-unanimous margins is

especially striking, given that these measures appear – at least at first glance – to challenge the status of

male incumbents, some of whom must be displaced in order to make way for women. Yet, the impact of

quota policies is also quite mixed, with some leading to increases and others to stagnation and even

decreases in the numbers of women elected. This paper proposes that a more thorough understanding

of these trends requires a closer look at the micro-level trends. For adoption, these involve examining

and theorizing moments of legislative decision-making in light of existing institutional opportunities and

constraints. In the case of implementation, the locus of investigation should be processes of candidate

selection, including contests over the proper incorporation of quotas into these dynamics. The strategic

calculations informing actions at these various points in time suggest that rational choice frameworks

may be useful for modeling the decisions made by key actors at various crucial moments. However, the

limits of other rational choice arguments regarding gender quotas, combined with the large feminist

literature on these questions, indicate that a better approach would involve integrating distinct and

shared components of feminism and rational choice theory to focus on the respective roles of gender,

strategy, institutions, power, and change. These elements interact to shape actor calculations and the

37

consequences of these actions, to the point in some instances of undermining what otherwise seem to

be in actors’ own self-interests, in the case of (male) incumbents at moments of quota adoption and

(female) aspirants during the process of quota implementation.

In Argentina, the outcome of legislative debates with regard to quota reform is surprising for a

number of reasons. It appears that the bill would have been costly to internal party politics for party

leaders, who already fielded competing claims from a variety of different party factions. Similarly, it

seems as though it would put individual male legislators at an electoral disadvantage, as it reduces their

chances of running again for legislative office. However, closer attention to the institutional frameworks

in which policy-making processes operate helps shed light on the latter question. In Argentina, features

of the electoral system, organized around closed party lists, compels strict party discipline, with the

implication that back benchers largely do what the party leaders decide. When the Minister of the

Interior addressed the legislators in the Chamber of Deputies at the direction of the President, he was

not advising, asking, or seeking to persuade those from his own party delegation to vote in favor of the

bill. Rather, he was effectively instructing them on how to cast their votes. Understanding why party

leaders would endorse quota reform is more complicated. It is possible to offer a conjecture, however,

on the basis of evidence from the congressional debates and party leaders’ distinct unwillingness to

abide by the spirit of the law once it was adopted. This suggests that they may have passed the quota

law because they believe that, in all likelihood, the law as written would simply not be enforced. As the

quota did not specify a placement mandate for women, party leaders could be in compliance with the

law by simply adding women to the bottom, unelectable portions of the list. The structure of political

institutions, moreover, provided strong disincentives for individual women to challenge party leaders,

which would have to be done in most instances at the expense of their future political careers. This

finding may be more broadly applicable to other countries, where similar margins of support have led –

for the most part – to disappointing results in the election of women. On a positive note, however, it is

38

worth noting that this anticipated outcome was nonetheless averted in Argentina due to collective

mobilization by women, as well as the willingness of several female politicians to challenge their own

parties in court, even at the risk of expulsion. These actions had the effect of guaranteeing that the

quota would be effectively applied, enabling female candidates to be placed in electable positions.

The case of gender quotas Argentina thus offers a crucial illustration of the need to supplement

feminist and rational choice accounts of quota adoption and implementation. Combining elements of

these two approaches, this paper argues, offers insight into puzzling patterns of legislative change and

policy effects. To date, work utilizing these perspectives rarely overlaps. Yet, there are potential points

of intersection between feminism and rational choice theory, at the same time that each brings with it

important theoretical tools that may be used in fruitful ways to inform the other. A synthesis of these

two approaches, the article suggests, involves attending to questions of gender, strategy, institutions,

power, and change. There are a number of topics that might be analyzed through this lens, including

dynamics of political representation, collective action, and bargaining inside and outside legislative

arenas (Driscoll and Krook 2008). However, it is also important to stress that a feminist-rational choice

approach may not be appropriate for analyzing all questions in political science. In addition, further

studies may be necessary for elaborating different potential combinations of feminism, including liberal,

radical, or postmodern versions, with distinct types of rational choice theory, including social choice or

game theory, as well as ‘softer’ and ‘harder’ versions. Yet, while a feminist-rational choice framework

may not be suitable for investigating all topics, it offers new ideas for research design that may present

possible solutions to other enduring puzzles in political science.

39

References

Akerlof, George A. and Rachel E. Kranton. 2000. Economics and Identity. Quarterly Journal of Economics

115 (3): 715-753.

Anderson, Elizabeth. 2001. Should Feminists Reject Rational Choice Theory? In A Mind of One’s Own:

Feminist Essays on Reason and Objectivity, ed. Louise M. Antony and Charlotte Witt. Boulder:

Westview Press.

Baldez, Lisa. 2004. Elected Bodies: The Gender Quota Law for Legislative Candidates in Mexico.

Legislative Studies Quarterly 24 (2): 231-258.

Bates, Robert H., Rui de Figueiredo, and Barry Weingast. 1998. The Politics of Interpretation, Rationality,

and Culture. Politics & Society 26 (4): 603-642.

Bates, Robert H., Avner Greif, Margaret Levi, Jean-Laurent Rosenthal, and Barry Weingast. 1998. Analytic

Narratives. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Bonder, Gloria and Marcela Nari. 1995. The 30 Percent Quota Law: A Turning Point for Women’s Political

Participation in Argentina. In A Rising Public Voice: Women in Politics Worldwide, ed. Alida Brill.

New York: Feminist Press at The City University of New York Press, 183-193.

Bruhn, Kathleen. 2003. Whores and Lesbians: Political Activism, Party Strategies, and Gender Quotas in

Mexico. Electoral Studies 22 (1): 101-119.

Calvert, Randall. 2002. Identity, Expression, and Rational-Choice Theory. In Political Science: State of the

Discipline, ed. Ira Katznelson and Helen V. Milner. New York: W. W. Norton, 568-596.

Carrio, Elisa Maria. 2002. The Challenges of Women's Participation in the Legislature: A New Look at

Argentina (translated version). Mujeres en el Parlamento: Mas alla de los numeros. Stockholm,

Sweden: International IDEA. Electronic copy accessed March 29, 2009.

www.idea.int/publications/wip/upload/carrio-CS-Argentina-feb03.pdf

Chama, Mónica. 2001. Las mujeres y el poder. Buenos Aires: Ciudad Argentina.

40

Chappell, Louise. 2006. Comparing Political Institutions: Revealing the Gendered ‘Logic of

Appropriateness.’ Politics & Gender 2 (2): 223-235.

Chodorow, Nancy. 1978. The Reproduction of Mothering: Psychoanalysis and the Sociology of Gender.

Berkeley: University of California Press.

Connell, Robert W. 1987. Gender and Power: Society, the Person, and Sexual Politics. Cambridge: Polity

Press.

Cudd, Ann E. 2001. Rational Choice Theory and the Lessons of Feminism. In A Mind of One’s Own:

Feminist Essays on Reason and Objectivity, ed. Louise M. Antony and Charlotte Witt. Boulder:

Westview Press.

Davidson-Schmich, Louise K. 2006. Implementation of Political Party Gender Quotas: Evidence from the

German Lander 1990-2000. Party Politics 12 (2): 211-232

Downs, Anthony. 1957. An Economic Theory of Democracy. New York: Harper and Row.

Dovi, Suzanne. 2007. Theorizing Women’s Representation in the United States. Politics & Gender 3 (3):

297-320.

Driscoll, Amanda and Mona Lena Krook. 2008. Feminism and Rational Choice Theory. Paper presented at

the European Consortium for Political Research, Joint Sessions of Workshops, Rennes, France,

April 11-16.

Driscoll, Amanda and Mona Lena Krook. 2009. Can There Be a Feminist Rational Choice Institutionalism?

Politics & Gender 5 (2).

Duerst-Lahti, Georgia and Rita Mae Kelly, eds. 1995. Gender Power, Leadership, and Governance. Ann

Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Durrieu, Marcela. 1999. Se dice de nosotras. Buenos Aires: Catálogos Editora.

Elshtain, Jean Bethke. 1981. Public Man, Private Woman: Women in Social and Political Thought.

Princeton: Princeton University Press.

41

England, Paula. 1989. A Feminist Critique of Rational-Choice Theories: Implications for Sociology. The

American Sociologist 20: 14-28.

Ensminger, Jean and Jack Knight. 1997. Changing Social Norms: Common Property, Bridewealth, and

Clan Exogamy. Current Anthropology 38 (1): 1-24.

Faciolince, Héctor Abad. 2006. Los paras y el gatopardismo. La Semana.com. Santafé de Bogotá, D.C.

Colombia, Printed online December 8th, 2006. Accessed March 29, 2009.

http://www.semana.com/wf_InfoArticulo.aspx?idArt=100017

Ferejohn, Johan and Debra Satz. 1995. Unification, Universalism, and Rational Choice Theory. Critical

Review 9 (1-2): 71-84.

Fréchette, Guillaume, François Maniquet, and Massimo Morelli. 2008. Incumbents’ Interests and Gender

Quotas. American Journal of Political Science 52 (4): 891-907.

Gallo, Edit Rosalía and Carlos Alberto Giacobone, eds. 2001. Cupo feminino en la política argentina. Ley

nacional, leyes provinciales, debates parlamentarios, normativa internacional, jurisprudencia.

Buenos Aires: Editorial Universitaria de Buenos Aires.

Gatens, Moira. 1998. Institutions, Embodiment and Sexual Difference. In Gender and Institutions:

Welfare, Work and Citizenship, ed. Moira Gatens and Alison Mackinnon. New York: Cambridge

University Press, 1-15.

Goertz, Gary and Amy G. Mazur, eds. 2008. Politics, Gender, and Concepts: Theory and Methodology.

New York: Cambridge University Press.

Greif, Avner. 2006. Institutions and the Path to the Modern Economy: Lessons from Medieval Trade. New

York: Stanford University Press.

Harvey, Anna L. 1998. Votes Without Leverage: Women in American Electoral Politics, 1920-1970. New

York: Cambridge University Press.

42

Inhetveen, Katharina. 1999. Can Gender Equality Be Institutionalized? The Role of Launching Values in

Institutional Innovation. International Sociology 14 (4): 403-422.

Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. 1999. Report No. 102/99, Case 11.307, María Merciadri

de Morini, Argentina, September 27.

Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. 2001. Report No. 103/01, Case 11.307, María Merciadri

de Morini, Argentina, October 11.

Inter-Parliamentary Union. 1995. Women in Parliaments, 1945-1995. World Statistical Survey. Geneva:

Inter-Parliamentary Union.

Inter-Parliamentary Union. 2009. Women in National Parliaments: Situation as of 28 February 2009.

Online at: http://www.ipu.org/wmn-e/classif.htm (accessed March 25, 2009).

Jones, Mark P. 1996. Increasing Women’s Representation Via Gender Quotas: The Argentine Ley de

Cupos. Women and Politics 16 (4): 75-98.

Jones, Mark P. 1998. Gender Quotas, Electoral Laws and the Election of Women: Lessons From the

Argentine Provinces. Comparative Political Studies, 31(1): 3-21.

Jones, Mark P. 2002. Explaining the High Level of Party Discipline in the Argentine Congress. In

Legislative Politics in Latin America, Ed. Scott Morgenstern and Benito Nacif. New York:

Cambridge University Press.

Jones, Mark P. 2004. Quota Legislation and the Election of Women: Learning from the Costa Rican

Experience. Journal of Politics 66 (4): 1203-1223.

Jones, Mark P. and Sebastian Saiegh, Pablo T. Spiller and Mariano Tommasi. 2002. Amateur Legislators--

Professional Politicians: The Consequences of Party Centered Electoral Rules in a Federal

System. American Journal of Political Science. 46(3): 656-669.

Kenney, Sally. 1996. New Research on Gendered Political Institutions. Political Research Quarterly 49 (2):

445-466.

43

Kenny, Meryl. 2007. “Gender, Institutions, and Power: A Critical Review.” Politics 27:2, 91-100.

Kenny, Meryl and Marjolein Paantjens. 2006. “Towards a Feminist Institutionalism: Connecting Gender,

Power, and Change.” Paper presented at the First Workshop of the Feminism and

Institutionalism International Network, University of Edinburgh, Scotland, December 8-9.

Kittilson, Miki Caul. 2006. Challenging Parties, Changing Parliaments: Women and Elected Office in

Contemporary Western Europe. Columbus: Ohio State University Press.

Knight, Jack. 1992. Institutions and Social Conflict. Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press.

Knight, Jack and James Johnson. 2007. “The Priority of Democracy: A Pragmatist Approach to Political-

Economic Institutions and the Burden of Justification.” American Political Science Review 101:1,

47-61.

Krook, Mona Lena. 2006. Reforming Representation: The Diffusion of Candidate Gender Quotas

Worldwide. Politics & Gender 2 (3): 303-327.

Krook, Mona Lena. 2009. Quotas for Women in Politics: Gender and Candidate Selection Reform

Worldwide. New York: Oxford University Press.

Krook, Mona Lena and Sarah Childs, eds. Forthcoming. Women, Gender, and Politics: A Reader. New

York: Oxford University Press.

Krook, Mona Lena and Judith Squires. 2006. Gender Quotas in British Politics: Multiple Approaches and

Methods in Feminist Research. British Politics 1 (1): 44–66.

Levi, Margaret. 1997. A Model, a Method, and a Map: Rational Choice in Comparative and Historical

Analysis. In Comparative Politics: Rationality, Culture, and Structure, ed. Mark Irving Lichbach

and Alan S. Zuckerman. New York: Cambridge University Press, 19-41.

Lovenduski, Joni. 1998. Gendering Research in Political Science. Annual Review of Political Science 1:

333–356.

44

Lubertino, María José. 2000. Female Citizenship, Legal Instruments and Constitutional Reforms: The

Argentinian Experience. Buenos Aires: ISPM.

Luker, Kristin. 1975. Taking Chances: Abortion and the Decision Not to Contracept. Berkeley: University

of California Press.

Mackie, Gerry. 1996. Ending Footbinding and Infibulation: A Convention Account. American Sociological

Review 61 (6): 999-1017.

March, James G. and Johan P. Olsen. 1989. Rediscovering Institutions: The Organizational Basis of

Politics. New York: The Free Press.

Martin, Andrew, Gary Miller and Norman Schofield. 2003. Critical Elections and Partisan Realignment in

the US: 1860-2000. Political Studies. 51(3): 217-240.

Martin, Patricia Yancey. 2004. Gender As Social Institution. Social Forces 82 (4): 1249-1273.

Marx, Jutta and Ana Sampaolesi. 1993. Elecciones internas bajo el cupo: La primera aplicación de la Ley

de Cuotas en la Capital Federal. Feminaria 6 (11): 15-17.

Marx, Jutta, Jutta Borner, and Mariana Caminotti. 2007. Las Legisladoras : Cupos de Género y Política en

Argentina y Brasil. Buenos Aires : Siglo XXI Editora Iberoamericana.

Matland, Richard. 2006. Electoral Quotas: Frequency and Effectiveness. In Women, Quotas, and Politics,

ed. Drude Dahlerup. New York: Routledge.

Meier, Petra. 2004. The Mutual Contagion Effect of Legal and Party Quotas: A Belgian Perspective. Party

Politics 10 (5): 583-600.

Miller, Gary and Norman Schofield. 2003. Activists and Party Realignment. American Political Science

Review. 97(2): 245-260.

Minyersky, Nelly. 2001. Derechos civiles y políticos de la mujer. Medidas de acción positiva. Plenario.

Edición Electrónica. Buenos Aires: Asociación de Abogados de Buenos Aires.

Moe, Terry M. 2005. Power and Political Institutions. Perspectives on Politics 3 (2): 215-233.

45

Murray, Rainbow. 2007. How Parties Evaluate Compulsory Quotas: A Study of the Implementation of the

‘Parity’ Law in France. Parliamentary Affairs 60 (4): 568-584.

Murray, Rainbow, Mona Lena Krook, and Katherine A. R. Opello. 2009. Elite Bias, Not Voter Bias: Gender

Quotas and Candidate Performance in France. Paper presented at the First European

Conference on Politics and Gender, Queen’s University Belfast, Northern Ireland, January 21-23.

Mustapic, Anna Maria. 2002. Oscillating Relations: President and Congress in Argentina. In Legislative

Politics in Latin America, Ed. Scott Morgenstern and Benito Nacif. New York: Cambridge

University Press.

North, Douglass. 1990. Institutions, Institutional Change and Economic Performance. New York:

Cambridge University Press.

Opello, Katherine A. R. 2006. Gender Quotas, Parity Reform and Political Parties in France. New York:

Lexington Books.

Osborne, Martin J. 2005. An Introduction to Game Theory. New York: Oxford University Press.

Ramazanoglu, Caroline and Janet Holland. 2002. Feminist Methodology: Challenges and Choices.

Thousand Oaks: Sage.

Reynoso, Nené. 1992. Ley del cupo: una prioridad del movimiento de mujeres. Feminario 5 (8): 10-12.

Riker, William H. and Peter C. Ordeshook. 1973. An Introduction to Positive Political Theory. Englewood

Cliffs: Prentice-Hall.

Satz, Debra and John Ferejohn. 1994. Rational Choice and Social Choice Theory. The Journal of

Philosophy 91 (2): 71–87.

Schmidt, Gregory D. and Kyle L. Saunders. 2004. Effective Quotas, Relative Party Magnitude, and the

Success of Female Candidates: Peruvian Municipal Elections in Comparative Perspective.

Comparative Political Studies 37 (6): 704-734.

Scott, Joan Wallach. 1988. Gender and the Politics of History. New York: Columbia University Press.

46

Spiller, Pablo and Mariano Tommasi. 2007. The Institutional Foundations of Public Policy: The Case of

Argentina. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Thalos, Mariam. 2005. What is a Feminist to do with Rational Choice? In A Companion to Rationalism,

ed. Alan Nelson. New York: Blackwell, 450-467.

Thelen, Kathleen. 1999. Historical Institutionalism in Comparative Politics. Annual Review of Political

Science 2: 369-404.

Tommasi, Mariano, Sebastian Saeigh and Pablo Sanguinetti. 2001. Fiscal Federalism in Argentina:

Policies, Politics and Institutional Reform. Economia: 157-211.

Tripp, Aili Mari and Alice Kang. 2008. The Global Impact of Quotas: On the Fast Track to Increased

Female Legislative Representation. Comparative Political Studies 41 (3): 338-361.

Weingast, Barry R. 2002. Rational-Choice Institutionalism. In Political Science: State of the Discipline, ed.

Ira Katznelson and Helen V. Milner. New York: W. W. Norton, 660-692.