Review of Experience
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This brings us to the second problem, which intersects with the first: how can we determine with any confidence what is the value-added of agencies carrying out this anti-corruption mission? Looking at the broad mission statements of these agencies, our first impulse might be to say that we expect their value-added to lie in reduced corruption. We could attempt to measure this, using data from corruption surveys, along with indicators and rankings from sources such as Transparency International (TI) and the International Commercial Risk Guide (ICRG). A somewhat more fine-grained approach would draw on findings from studies on the efficiency of government expenditure and service provision, comparisons over time in procurement and infrastructure costs, and even the incidence of civic initiatives against corruption (e.g. as reported in the press). However, as Kaufmann (2000) and others point out, the problem of identifying a flow of causality from anti-corruption agencies to these macro-level outcomes – including the need to account for the influence of structural reforms and other important factors – is extremely daunting. In other words, obtaining detailed information on the design and activities of ACAs, and the macro-level data on corruption-related phenomena, would only be the beginning of the inquiry. Much more would be needed. Towards a Workable Set of Performance Indicators For now, suppose that, instead of attempting to measure the systemic impact of an ACA’s efforts, we were to focus more narrowly on what the agency does and how well it does it. As we have already hinted, this, too has its problems. Comparing the tasks actually allocated to anti-corruption agencies with the larger set of public goods and services required to combat corruption (see the chart above) makes it clear that ACAs can only take on a limited set of them – and that other agencies often handle the same tasks anyway. Thus, an ACA’s value-added surely cannot be its set of responsibilities, powers, and activities. These exist in most societies, and the only question is which agency has them. Indeed, since other agencies exist to carry out functions that are sometimes housed in an ACA, this also means that an ACA’s record of success – how well it carries out its tasks – does not, by itself, measure net value-added. If the ACA didn’t exist, some other agency would likely be handling its preventive, deterrent, and outreach functions. Do ACAs do this better – so that they outperform other arrangements in producing these outputs and outcomes? If so, how do they do it, and how do we know? The underlying rationale for establishing an ACA in most cases seems to be that, unlike existing agencies of restraint, (i) it will not itself be tainted by corruption or political intrusion; (ii) it will resolve coordination problems among multiple agencies through vertical integration; (iii) this integration, with some augmentation of powers or improved criminal legislation, creates a powerful agency able to overcome obstacles that stymied earlier efforts; and (iv) the ACA is situated in such a way that it can centralize all necessary information and intelligence about corruption and can assert leadership in the anti-corruption effort. In other words, while setting up an ACA may involve creating powers and tasks that did not exist before, the agency’s main contributions are synergy, coordination, and concentrated power. This suggests that the main expected outcome of an ACA should be an overall improvement in the performance of anti-corruption functions. It is important to distinguish between (a) the level of corruption in a given country or district, and (b) how well certain core anti-corruption functions are performed. In principle, the two are related, but the latter is essentially an output measure. One could link this, with only a few realistic assumptions, to measures of proximate impact or intermediate outcomes. These are achievements that may depend on an ACA’s success in producing its outputs. Examples include the number of successful prosecutions, the number and quality of institutional reforms designed to combat corruption, and the intensity of anti-corruption sentiment and activity across society. In this study, we will use these kinds of performance measures to the extent available. These types of measures had their genesis in attempts over the last several decades to assess agency and project performance using “Logframes” and similar devices. Measurement techniques gained further prominence and sophistication as a result of the New Public Management movement. The latter arose with the wholesale restructuring of the public sector in New Zealand in the 1980s, followed by the Reinventing Government effort in the U.S. during the 1990s, and related initiatives in Canada, the U.K. and elsewhere. Performance measurement systems translate the objectives of an organization or program into indicators against which achievement can be assessed. The areas covered by these measures usually include some combination of productivity, effectiveness, quality, and timeliness. Use of these measures is thought to contribute to better decision-making, accountability, a stronger service orientation, and public participation. Public management experts categorize performance indicators as follows (National Center for Public Productivity 1997):
What types of performance measures would be appropriate for anti-corruption agencies? Presented in Table 1 (Tables Annex) is a sampling of such indicators, from agencies with missions similar to those of ACAs, such as the Justice Department (DOJ), Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), Federal Trade Commission (FTC), and Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in the U.S. Two anti-corruption agencies – the Hong Kong ICAC and the U.S. Office of Government Ethics (OGE) – have performance measures that merit scrutiny, and are included for purposes of discussion. It is useful to compare a range of agencies with roles similar to ACAs, to get a sense of the varied ways in which they attempt to measure performance. For example, agencies with an identified client base, whether within government or outside, place greater emphasis on efficiency indicators than do purely regulatory and investigatory agencies. Nearly all of the agencies in Table 1 use some form of output indicator. Regarding outcome measures, the group is divided – some agencies emphasize immediate outcomes such as convictions, monetary recoveries and implementation of proffered advice. Others – prominent among them regulatory enforcement agencies and audit bodies – focus more on secondary effects such as savings to the treasury and to consumers. Just to clarify, we do not propose applying these measures as such to the ACAs reviewed in this paper. The measures are agency-specific. They are fairly idiosyncratic products based on the mission, political context, ambitions, and resources of the agency in question. One way to use these measures is to adapt them for purposes of ongoing performance comparisons among anti-corruption agencies. In Table 2 (Tables Annex), we adapt and generalize the indicators from Table 1, thereby creating a sampling of indicator types relevant to anti-corruption agencies. The list is organized not only by the type of indicator, but also by function. Organizing the measures this way enables us to compare data for a wide range of agencies, based on similar objectives, functions, and activities. However, comparing such data should be done with caution, since the underlying contexts, systems, definitions, and objectives applicable to ACAs vary considerably. Moreover, high scores on output and efficiency measures are not always meaningful, and outcome measures in some cases pick up the effects of other influences – without providing any meaningful control. We also do not mean do suggest that the proposed measures, and the scorecards they generate, stand on their own. As we’ve suggested, outputs have a plausible causal link to intermediate outcomes, and the latter bear a more complex theoretical relationship to overall desired impacts and outcomes in terms of corruption. Thus, even the best measures now available will not be informative without more. For one thing, the measurement data are incomplete and inconsistent. Not all of the basic outputs are measured, and it is no easy task to determine the consistency of, for example, prosecutions with procedural protections and non-partisanship. Moreover, even complete measures on ACAs will eventually need to be supplemented with intermediate outcome data for all agencies producing the same (or similar) outputs, so that trends over time can be assessed. Ideally, as part of this, one should compare the period since the founding of the ACA to the period before it came into being. If all this information existed for a sufficient sample of countries, then it might make sense to link intermediate to ultimate outcomes. However, each of these undertakings is enormous, and beyond the scope of this paper. Rather, given these constraints, our choice has been to look at performance data in the context of agency case-studies. These include brief reviews of documented cases as well as original in-depth case studies. In other words, interpreting the formal institutional descriptions and performance numbers requires a nuanced qualitative sense of whether the agency and activities are well-targeted – hence whether the outcomes are as beneficial as they could be. In the current circumstances, only a fairly “thick” description of the agency and its context will enable us to gain such a qualitative understanding. Explaining Success Having determined how we might identify and measure success, we are left with the question of how to explain it. For this, we turn to the literature on anti-corruption agencies. Surprisingly, despite the burgeoning literature on corruption, very few contributions focus on ACAs, and no systematic study appears to have been made as yet. The papers that do address ACAs are largely aimed at proposing certain models and features. In doing so, they provide some intuitively plausible suggestions about factors likely to yield success, including the agency’s own structures and powers, as well as necessary complementary institutions. Box 2 below provides a summary of likely success factors based on this literature and our own experience. Observers associated with Transparency International (TI) and the World Bank have been the leading voices in this area, and their reform-oriented literature proposes a series of “dos and don’ts” for ACAs. Pope (1999) suggests that the key elements making an ACA potentially valuable are its prevention activities and its role in monitoring the implementation of government’s overall anti-corruption policy. In some cases, ACAs also have the features of an ombudsman, but Pope suggests that an ombudsman’s need for a cooperative and trusting relationship with bureaucrats may be incompatible with the investigative mission of an ACA. Also, an ACA will need either a policy or a jurisdictional limit (i.e. non- or limited retroactivity) concerning past offenses. In Pope’s view, the addressing of past abuses needs to be kept within pragmatic limits, to avoid overwhelming the ACA with case work and political controversy. Since an anti-corruption agency is especially vulnerable to misuse as a political tool and indeed as a vehicle for corruption, Pope suggests that in general ACAs should be kept to the minimum size – and consist essentially of small investigations and monitoring units. Also to reduce the risk of abuse, ACAs should be subject to a combination of public oversight, legal standards, and judicial review. Counterbalancing an anti-corruption body’s accountability is its independence. Here, Pope cites the following as important structural protections for an agency’s independence: the provisions for appointment and removal of senior ACA officials, the placement of the ACA in a position where it is not subject to direct political or ministerial dictates, and a direct role for public stakeholders who provide a discrete political base for the agency. Also important is some measure of fiscal independence – either the ability to propose a budget directly to the legislature, or a guarantee of budgetary stability. While placement of the ACA in the office of the chief of state may bolster its strength (Singapore), in other instances (Tanzania) this is likely to compromise its independence. Pope also describes the affirmative powers that an ACA needs in order to be most effective. These include: strong research and prevention capabilities; the right to access witnesses and documents; power to freeze assets and seize travel documents; the ability to protect informants; and authority to monitor assets, income and expenditures, and tax returns. The ACA’s powers to monitor wealth effectively are considerably enhanced where the law provides for an “illicit enrichment” offense, which shifts the burden onto officials to show that any unusual wealth has a legitimate source. Most obviously, an ACA needs strong political and public support in order to be effective. In the current version of its Sourcebook, Transparency International (2000) puts forward some criteria for assessing the quality of an anti-corruption agency, as well as some factors that contribute to success and failure. The additional assessment criteria that TI contributes are:
Under the rubric of “Why do anti-corruption agencies fail?” TI sets out some further factors affecting success, including: “weak political will,” fear of consequences, unrealistic expectations, excessive reliance on enforcement (ignoring prevention), inadequate laws, and loss of morale. Langseth (2000) takes this discussion a bit further, providing some additional prerequisites for success and warning of several dangers. He suggests an ideal ACA having a comprehensive mandate, which includes investigations and prosecutions, an educational and awareness-raising function, a preventive function, and a legislative role (submitting reform bills to parliament). Most (if not all) ACAs must also face up to the need for selectivity in investigations. Langseth underlines the importance of clear standards in this area, and particularly of explaining these credibly to the public and to complainants in particular. Langseth additionally suggests that an effective ACA must be embedded in a coherent national anti-corruption strategy, and that new agencies in particular need to follow a carefully defined focus rather than take on all corruption-related matters. Further, independent ACAs have a special responsibility for precise and comprehensive expenditure accountability. While an ACA needs substantial resources, Langseth warns against “donor overload,” suggesting aid agencies’ strong interest in this area can saddle an ACA with more help than it use, and end up causing distortions. Perhaps most helpfully, Langseth proposes some objective assessment measures, and discusses in more detail than others the dangers of failure. He suggests the following performance evaluation indicators: cases prosecuted, convictions, case backlog, quality of public interface, and surveys of public knowledge and trust. He discusses the danger that an ACA may, among other things:
Doig (1995) also proposes a number of guidelines for effective ACAs, while acknowledging that such institutions have most frequently been proposed in developing countries as “ad hoc” and “cosmetic” measures – with the result that they have usually been denied the resources necessary to make them effective. Doig’s response to this is to suggest a model combining the features of the Hong Kong Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) with those of the U.S. Inspector General (IG) system. Such an agency should create an “island of competence” within the public sector by deploying a “cross-executive” corps drawn from several key sectors. He suggests that ACAs are good at addressing certain problems – ethical probity of officials, and government’s credibility and public reputation for integrity – but not others. Most importantly, Doig’s model gives primacy to research and evaluations linked to a proactive agenda of long-term reform and capacity-building, while placing lower priority on investigation and punishment. This is consistent with the subsequent suggestion in Doig and Riley (1998) that ACAs require careful planning and performance measurement, lest they become essentially reactive and hence subject to political pressures to focus on the wrong areas. Box 2 provides a synthesis of these factors, along with others that appear equally important. Box 2: Summary of ACA Success Factors (See: TI 2000, Langseth 2000, Camerer 1999, Pope 1999, Doig 1995) Establishment: embedded in a comprehensive anti-corruption strategy, careful planning and performance measurement, realistic expectations, strong enough political backing (across class/party) to make it effective regardless of (political and personal) consequences Focus: on prevention and monitoring government implementation of AC policy (vs comprehensive mandate), mainly prospective (only limited concern with past cases), case selectivity based on clear standards, emphasis on probity and reputation of public service, de-emphasize investigations and prosecutions Accountability: legal standards, judicial review, public complaints and oversight, answers to all branches of government and the public, size kept to a minimum, no donor overload, precise and comprehensive expenditure accountability Independence: placement and reporting responsibility of agency ensure independence, appointment/removal procedures for top officials ensure independence, absence of day-to-day political interference, direct role for public stakeholders, fiscal/budgetary autonomy Powers: strong research and prevention capabilities, can access documents and witnesses, can freeze assets and seize passports, can protect informants, can monitor income and assets, jurisdiction over chief of state, can propose administrative and legislative reforms Staff: well-trained -- including sufficient numbers with highly specialized skills, well-compensated, subject to integrity reviews and quick removal, strong ethic of professionalism and integrity, high morale Other resources: sufficient funds, adequate facilities and assets, high-level information sharing and coordination with other government bodies Complementary institutions: adequate laws and procedures, basic features of the rule of law including functioning courts, free and active media, NGOs/public interest groups, other capable institutions such as supreme audit and central bank Other exogenous conditions: macroeconomic stability and absence of crippling distortions, corruption may be deep but is not entrenched across the whole system (i.e. some people and sectors are clean) To explore the explanatory power of these factors, we get down to cases. The next two parts of the paper (Parts 3 and 4) consider some 14 cases, including three detailed case studies. We return to issues of measurement and explanation in the concluding part (Part 5) of the paper. 3. Previously Documented Cases We now examine the record. There are scores, if not hundreds, of anti-corruption agencies around the world. Of these, there are perhaps as many as 30 to 40 at the national level that fit the profile of a strong, centralized agency, and more at sub-national levels. How have the various agencies and approaches performed? Does the record support the analysis we have just presented? What lessons do these many dramas hold for policymakers facing hard decisions about how to address corruption? In this part we present a comparative review of cases that have already been well documented, or where a reasonable amount of information was available to us. This covers the paradigmatic cases, frequently cited in the literature, of Hong Kong and Singapore, along with other well-documented cases from around the world. The other cases include variations on these single-agency models as well as more traditional multi-agency approaches. We provide an overview of these agencies, along with a summary discussion of their major features, including their mandate, authority, resources, structural protections, and agency performance monitoring. We conclude this part with some tentative conclusions about the strategic choices in this area. (More complete data on the cases presented in this part are provided in the Annexes.) Following this, in part 4, we present in more depth three original cases developed with the help of consultants resident or specializing in the relevant countries. The Single-Agency Paradigm: Hong Kong and Singapore The now-prevalent idea of moving core anti-corruption functions such as investigation and prevention into a single powerful agency first gained prominence in Singapore and Hong Kong. In this section, we review the experience of Hong Kong’s Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) and Singapore’s Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau (CPIB). In the section that follows, we look at a number of variations on this single-agency theme. Then, against this backdrop, we consider the alternative strategy, still used in most countries, of adding one or more special anti-corruption bodies to the traditional mix of judicial and administrative institutions. Last, we consider some of the benefits and costs of these different approaches. It is worth clarifying the distinction between single- and multiple-agency approaches. The distinction has been used before (see Quah 1999a) to classify anti-corruption strategies – although there has been little attempt to explain it. The single-agency strategy does not move all anti-corruption functions into a single bureau – this would be impossible under almost any constitutional arrangement that even purports to be democratic. Rather, the single-agency approach places a number of key capabilities, responsibilities, and resources under one roof – thereby creating a powerful centralized agency able to lead a sweeping effort against corruption. This still requires the ACA’s interaction with other entities having jurisdiction in this field – notably the courts, and in most cases, prosecutors, as well as line ministries in areas likely to be affected by corruption, e.g. revenue and public works. By contrast, the multiple-agency approach is less ambitious, creating one or more additional units or agencies with specific anti-corruption responsibilities that either did not previously exist or were scattered among departments. This strategy avoids setting up a strong “lead” agency in the anti-corruption field, thus posing a lower risk than the single-agency approach of upsetting the balance and separation of governmental powers. Establishment Why set up a single, free-standing agency to lead the anti-corruption effort? The experiences of Singapore and Hong Kong offer essentially the same answer. In both cases, a crisis of legitimacy seemed to pose a threat to investor confidence and political stability. The answer was something new and different, an agency untainted by association with corrupt elements, and equipped with enough power to make dramatic headway against entrenched corruption. Importantly, this arrangement also helps centralize information and intelligence on corruption, and can greatly reduce the coordination problems that often arise in multi-agency approaches. Singapore was the first to make this move. CPIB was founded in 1952, replacing the Anti-Corruption Branch (ACB) of the Criminal Investigation Department – a small unit within the police force. Leading up to the reform, graft was reported to be rampant in government departments, and a scandal in 1951 revealed widespread corruption in the police. The main objective of the reform appears to have been to make the anti-corruption effort more effective by removing the ACB’s functions from the police force – this arrangement had prevented it from dealing strictly with elements of the police involved in corruption. (Quah 1999a) The corruption problem remained unresolved, however, and the government of Lee Kwan Yew in 1960 decided to strengthen CPIB and enact a new Prevention of Corruption Act. Among other things, the act strengthened penalties and called for the forfeiture of corrupt gains. The Act also increased CPIB’s powers to include arrest and examination of any suspect’s bank accounts. Since that time, Singapore has adjusted the Act, and the powers and resources of CPIB, as needed. Among the changes was an expansion of criminal liability for corruption to include those who may not accept a bribe but intend to commit the offense, and those who accept a bribe but do not provide the expected favor in return. Also, by establishing its credibility as a serious anti-corruption force, CPIB was able to overcome public skepticism and non-cooperation. (Quah 1989, 1995, 1999a, www.gov.sg/pmo/cpib/index.html) By the late 1960s, when Hong Kong was looking for a way to grapple with its corruption problems, it turned to Singapore as a successful model. The main concern in Hong Kong was entrenched and systematized police corruption, which facilitated drug trafficking, gambling, and prostitution in return for huge rents, and also included bribery and extortion related to routine police functions such as traffic control. The system appears to have allowed for collection and passing of percentages of graft up the hierarchy to the Chief Superintendent. The immediate crisis giving rise to ICAC’s founding was a corruption scandal involving Peter Godber, then Chief Superintendent, who escaped and later was extradited for trial from the UK. (Klitgaard 1988) A Commission of Inquiry was convened, and the Governor subsequently called for the establishment of ICAC, which was set up in 1974 under the ICAC Ordinance. ICAC replaced the police department’s Anti-Corruption Office, which focused on investigating corruption allegations, investigating officials with disproportionate wealth, and long-term intelligence gathering. The agency was separated from the police, give sweeping powers, and headed initially by a distinguished former government official and senior company executive named Jack Cater – this last decision especially signaling the government’s desire to rescue Hong Kong’s reputation and establish its credibility on the anti-corruption front. (Klitgaard 1988) A political economy analysis by Moran (2000) suggests three main pillars of support for ICAC (and in our view, a similar analysis probably fits Singapore as well). First is the executive – the Governors, reporting to the UK Prime Minister, tolerated corruption early on, then saw it becoming a serious problem by the 1970s. They had sufficient autonomy from local public opinion to institute a rapid and dramatic change. Since the 1997 handover, the executive reports to mainland China, and it is feared that this is causing a policy shift in favor of more politicized administration and tolerance of corrupt business-government networks. Second, Britain’s “liberal-authoritarian” approach, which provided considerable autonomy and credibility to the rule of law, helped keep ICAC from abusing its power and enabled it to pursue corruption successfully. Last, local and international business elites have played a major role. They both supported ICAC in restoring some integrity to the public administration, and apparently exercised pressure to limit some of its inquiries into high-level dealings affecting business interests. However, this did not prevent ICAC from prosecuting prominent business people. Indeed, once ICAC had met its objective of suppressing police and bureaucratic corruption, it began focusing more heavily on corruption in the private sector (as provided in the 1971 Prevention of Bribery Ordinance). Responsibilities and Powers Each of these agencies has a broad mandate. ICAC’s mission is summarized as follows: “fighting corruption through effective law enforcement, education, and prevention to help keep Hong Kong fair, just, stable, and prosperous.” (http://www.icac.org.hk) The three main functions are handled by separate departments: Operations, Community Relations, and Prevention. The offenses that ICAC investigates include those under the ICAC Ordinance, the Prevention of Bribery Ordinance, and the Elections (Corrupt and Illegal Conduct) Ordinance, as well as blackmail committed by a civil servant through misuse of public office and corruption in the private sector -- including bribery and white-collar crime. The ICAC Ordinance requires the Commissioner to investigate “any” suspected corruption. The agency’s policy has been to take this literally, pursuing all corruption allegations without a priori selection criteria – although it is within the sole discretion of the Attorney General to decide which cases to prosecute. This precluded any discretion by ICAC to choose cases, and it was deemed important to show the public that all corruption is important. Also, an investigation could only be closed, unless it led to prosecution, by a decision of ICAC’s Operations Review Committee (see below). However, one area was partly closed off by law: the past. In response to early protests about ICAC’s operations, an amnesty for most pre-1977 offenses was written into the ICAC Ordinance. (Speville 1997) The other two departments handle the remaining functions. The Prevention Department of ICAC has the responsibility and authority of examining practices and procedures of government entities with a view to identifying and reducing opportunities for corruption – and advising private organizations on measures to prevent corruption. It provides a report to the client organization (but does not submit bills to the legislature or policy papers to the executive). Last, the Community Relations Department carries out public awareness and education programs, handles complaints and inquiries about corruption, and maintains liaison with anti-corruption agencies in the mainland. (http://www.icac.org.hk) In carrying out its functions, ICAC enjoys truly comprehensive powers. The investigation or law enforcement powers of ICAC are the broadest – they include:
ICAC (as well as CPIB) has authority both to respond to complaints and to undertake investigations on its own initiative. Importantly, ICAC does not have power to prosecute, but transmits its investigative findings to the Attorney General. CPIB’s functions, although they influenced the ICAC model, are somewhat more limited. They are to receive and investigate complaints alleging corrupt practice; investigate misconduct by public officers with an “undertone” of corruption; and prevent corruption by examining the practices and procedures in the public service for purposes of minimizing opportunities. The first two functions reside in the Investigations Branch. CPIB’s stated objective here has always been “swift and sure” action against corruption. CPIB does not limit itself to corruption in the public sector, but also targets private sector corruption (especially payment of commissions and kickbacks), and is authorized to investigate any other offense that is disclosed in a corruption investigation. CPIB seems to follow the ICAC approach of following up all corruption allegations without limit. However, since CPIB cannot itself prosecute, some cases get filtered out during investigation and after referral. A Data Management and Support Branch handles the preventive function, along with the related tasks of collecting information and screening candidates for official positions. An Administration Branch provides general support. The reform of CPIB and the Prevention of Corruption Act in 1960 figured in a comprehensive anti-corruption strategy that was implemented in phases. The first phase focused on a combination of deterrence and removal of opportunities. Toughening the legal requirements and the penalties, as well as enforcement, met the first goal. Taking preventive action through studies and reform recommendations addressed the second point. Only later, in the 1980s, did the government decide it could move seriously on the second phase of the strategy: improving the incentives of public servants. Once economic growth had reached a sufficient level, Singapore could afford to provide officials with dramatic salary increases – something it was not in a position to do in 1960. (Quah 1995) In carrying out its investigative functions, CPIB has both the regular powers of the police as well as special powers. This includes powers of arrest as well as search and seizure – based on information or reasonable suspicion, and without necessarily obtaining a judicial warrant in advance. CPIB may also examine bank accounts, enter and search the books of banks, require explanations of disproportionate wealth and of transfers of assets abroad by the suspect and her/his immediate family members. The agency has jurisdiction over corruption offenses, and offenses discovered during corruption inquiries, by both the public and private sector. Coupled with the broad definitions of corruption offenses, attempts, abetting, and conspiracies in the penal law, the above provisions give CPIB as wide a scope of authority as could be imagined – but this stops short of prosecution, which can only be done by the Public Prosecutor. The availability of heavy sanctions strengthens CPIB’s hand. These include stiff penalties for offenses, legal duties to furnish information, and stringent prohibitions on obstruction or failure to comply. Administrative restraints on civil servants are quite rigorous, including a prohibition on unsecured debts, borrowing from anyone with whom they have official dealings, and engaging in any additional employment without approval. (Ah Leak 1999, www.gov.sg/pmo/cpib/lawenforcement.htm) The threat of losing government employment on these grounds surely encourages compliance and cooperation. Both ICAC and CPIB require investigations and witnesses to be treated as confidential. ICAC’s protections appear to be the more stringent. The Prevention of Bribery ordinance, as amended, outlaws disclosure of the identity of anyone under investigation, or any details of the investigation – to that person or to anyone else (with a few small exceptions) – prior to arrest. Further, an ICAC internal Standing Order prohibits these disclosures within the agency, unless based on a need to know. In addition, court procedure forbids disclosure of witness identities or information from such witnesses – as a counterbalance, false accusations and information are subject to strict penalties. (Speville 1997) Safeguards and Relationships Thus far, the stories of these two agencies seem to match closely (with the exception of ICAC’s additional functions of public outreach and education). Also similar is both agencies’ lack of any formal independence. They are responsible to their respective chiefs of state. The Commissioner who heads ICAC, along with any Deputy, serves at the will of the Governor. The Director of CPIB, with the upper-level staff of the agency, is appointed by the President, the formal head of state but not the political leader of Singapore, and the agency operates within the Prime Minister’s Office. In both cases, the appointment of the chief is revocable at will, nor is any appointment term or the required qualifications stated in legislation. Also, both agencies were established as elements of an integrated strategy to control corruption. This required a number of supporting measures to be put in place to ensure consistency with the strategy. One aspect of this was the cooperation of other governmental units. In the case of ICAC, its relations with other public agencies appear to be quite smooth. There has been some suggestion of political protection being given to some powerful political and business figures, but even if so, ICAC has frequently demonstrated its willingness to go after “big fish.” Observers suggest that political pressures from the Governor and other departments have been gaining strength since 1997. Similarly, CPIB’s relationships with key agencies are said to be highly cooperative – and the results seem to bear this out. These agencies include the Public Service Commission, the Auditor General’s Department, the Public Accounts Committee of Parliament, and the Ministry of Finance. (Ah Leak 1999) In both cases, forceful political leadership – most obviously that of Lee Kwan Yew – established and institutionalized a pattern of cooperation across agencies in implementing the anti-corruption program. However, this is where the similarity between ICAC and CPIB ends. Whereas CPIB operates as an arm of the Prime Minister’s Office, with little outreach or accountability to the public, ICAC has made public trust and transparency pillars of its strategy. Further, ICAC is much larger than CPIB. Among other things, the size difference appears to be driven by ICAC’s greater need to inform and persuade its partners in order to secure their cooperation. This apparently is not a critical need for CPIB. ICAC, unlike CPIB, has very strong accountability structures and mechanisms. These checks are arranged in such a way as to counterbalance the authority of the Governor. Accountability begins with strict responsibility of ICAC and senior officers to the Governor, and equally strict responsibility of ICAC staff to the Commissioner. The law requires ICAC to prepare its accounts for the Governor, and for these to be reviewed by the Director of Audit. The ICAC budget comes from the general revenue, which means that the Legislative Council separately approves it – and can call the Commissioner in for hearings. The ICAC Commissioner prepares an annual report for the Governor, who is required by the Ordinance to submit this to the legislature. Also, the division of investigative and prosecutorial responsibility between ICAC and the Justice ministry (also a feature of CPIB) helps to prevent abuses. In addition to these original features, some other safeguards have been put in place to avoid abuses of power. For example, a 1996 amendment to the ICAC Ordinance strengthened the citizen oversight committees (see below) as well as the role of the judiciary in authorizing search warrants – to bring ICAC into compliance with Hong Kong’s 1991 Bill of Rights. (Speville 1997, Camerer 1999) The most innovative and well-known accountability mechanisms are the citizen oversight boards, known as Advisory Committees. These are appointed by the Governor, but consist of some 40 citizens, and are required to be headed by private citizens according to the amended Ordinance. There are four such committees: the Advisory Committee on Corruption, which oversees general policy and direction of ICAC; and one committee dedicated to oversight of each of ICAC’s departments -- the Operations Review Committee, Corruption Prevention Advisory Committee, and Citizens Advisory Committee on Community Relations. The Operations Review Committee is arguably the most strategic, since it oversees the largest and most powerful department. In its terms of reference, the information it can demand from the Department and its oversight powers are clearly stated. The Committee does not have formal powers to compel the production of documents and information, but does have a straight line of responsibility to the Commissioner and the Governor. In addition, its reports “should” be published, according to the TOR – whether they are or not, the Hong Kong press surely has means to extract information and draw conclusions about ICAC. Finally, there is also a separate and independent ICAC Complaints Committee, which reviews all complaints against the agency. An internal investigation and monitoring unit follows up on complaints. In the case of CPIB, the only formal protection for its independence is the simultaneous placement of the bureau within the Prime Minister’s Office, and the vesting of appointment and removal power in the President. This is unlikely to be a strong safeguard in practice. Further, CPIB’s budget is integrated into that of the Prime Minister’s Office, hence the latter presumably determines what budget proposal is submitted to parliament – and influences the outcome of the process. Unlike ICAC, CPIB has no citizen oversight boards nor any explicit public outreach and education function. It is not required to publish or send to parliament an annual report, hence its operations are not known in detail or, apparently, covered in depth by the press. Despite its publicized commitment to “e-government,” Singapore does not publish CPIB’s budget or performance record on the web. Also, CPIB’s powers of arrest, search and seizure, review of bank information, and others do not require prior judicial authorization. This situation has led some to question CPIB’s impartiality, and has contributed to numerous instances of heavy-handedness. On the other hand, the agency does seem to have a reputation for professionalism and integrity, which suggests that it does operate broadly within the bounds of what is politically and legally acceptable. As in Hong Kong, the rule of law and a politically aware citizenry do set limits. Resources Another major contrast between ICAC and CPIB is their size and resource base. ICAC seems quite large – huge in fact – for an agency of its type, especially in a relatively small jurisdiction such as Hong Kong, a city-state of about 6 million people. Its staffing has risen from a total of 369 at its founding in 1974 to 1,175 in 1995, up to the current figure of about 1,300. The present total staff complement of ICAC is 1,342, with actual strength at 1,299. The numbers for the departments are (ICAC 2000):
Staff are recruited from all sources, and appointed to contract terms of two to three years, renewable. Special qualifications, screening procedures, and remuneration packages are in place – separate and distinct from the civil service system – to ensure recruitment on merit grounds, as well as firm discipline. ICAC staff are given a “gratuity” of 25% of gross salary, on the condition of “satisfactory performance,” at the end of their employment contracts. (Speville 1997) At the beginning, ICAC hoped to attract the best staff, and so offered compensation packages averaging about 10% above those provided to other government officials of comparable rank. (Klitgaard 1988) Although we do not have current information on this, the value of these packages has probably been updated to keep pace with the cost of living. Correspondingly, ICAC’s budget is also impressive. From an initially robust figure, it had increased to U.S. $72 million in fiscal year 1996/7, and then to U.S. $91 million in 1999/2000. In the latter year, Operations accounted for over 69% of overall expenditure, and the combined costs of public outreach and education claimed 18% of the total. Of the total budget for all functions, personnel costs comprised just over 90% of costs. By comparison, the figures for CPIB are quite modest. Its budget is not separately published, but was reported to be U.S. $3.23 million in 1991-2, and $2.5 million in 1986. The number of staff in CPIB is not published. Studies from the 1980s and 1990s cite a figure of 71 for the total staff complement (up from only 8 in 1960), comprised of 49 investigators and 22 clerical and support staff – with actual strength reported at 66 in the late 1990s. (Quah 1989, 1999a) The staff numbers seem quite low for an agency having comprehensive investigatory responsibilities over public and private sector corruption. Some observers suggest that the lack of a public outreach and education means that it can be much smaller than the Hong Kong ICAC (Klitgaard 1988) – but that function accounts for less than 20% of ICAC staff (Hong Kong’s population is also twice as large, but that does not explain it, either). Others have suggested that CPIB’s draconian powers and high political position mean that cooperation from other agencies and from citizens is virtually automatic – hence it does not need a large staff to do its work. CPIB staff are recruited in the same way as other civil servants, although the qualifications and screening procedures are more rigorous than most official jobs due to the nature of the work. Upper-level officials are appointed by the President. CPIB positions, and those in ICAC as well, are permanent. This is a switch from the early days of these agencies, when staff tended to be seconded from other government agencies – and some from overseas. Although salary information for the full range of CPIB staff were not available, it is well known that Singapore’s public sector pay scales are second to none. Gross monthly salary for a top-level administrative position is over U.S. $26,000 – far higher than the top grade in the U.S. and other industrial countries, although modest in comparison to top private sector salaries. This is a result of Singapore’s second wave of administrative and anti-corruption reform in the 1980s, which aimed to reduce the incentives for graft by increasing salaries to levels approaching those of the private sector (and stem the flow of capable administrators from the public to the private sector). Entry-level CPIB investigators are currently offered salaries ranging from U.S. $1100 to U.S. $5500. The benefits package appears to be fairly generous. Entry-level officers must go through a 3-month training period, and then are offered the opportunity to obtain 100 hours of training each year thereafter. Performance Monitoring Both ICAC and CPIB make public commitments to meet specified levels of efficiency in dealing with the public. However, only the former publishes figures on its actual performance. This is consistent with the generally much higher degree of transparency in ICAC. That agency uses hotlines, mailboxes, and e-mail for corruption reports. In addition, ICAC has a complaints committee and internal investigations/monitoring unit to deal with grievances against it. It also solicits feedback on its website. The ICAC citizens committees conduct oversight and produce reports that are often (though perhaps not uniformly) published. As important, the Commissioner submits an annual report to the Governor, who then submits it to the Legislative Council for review. The performance measures, and outcomes, reported by the ICAC Commissioner are as follows (ICAC 2000, numbers for 1999):
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