The 1921 Constitution of Liechtenstein (LV) from a Micro State Perspective

Elisa Bertolini

Bocconi University

In comparative constitutional scholarship, there is little discussion of the constitutional arrangements of micro states—as if there were a sort of deterministic relationship between their diminutive size and the interest they generate. Comparative scholarship would benefit significantly from an effort to address this failure to appraise the true extent of the distinctiveness of micro states.

The first vital question that needs consideration is whether the micro statehood model genuinely does exist. Undoubtedly, micro states are characterised by distinctive and peculiar constitutional arrangements. Broadly, there are two categories of micro states. First, historic micro states have existed for centuries; this includes those of continental Europe and the Kingdom of Tonga in the Pacific. Second, decolonised micro states are newer and tend to be a diminutive hybridisation, either formal or substantive, of the form of government of their former coloniser. Notwithstanding these differences, all these states, regardless of geographic location or developmental status, face challenges connected to a scarcity of resources. Therefore, each of these states has devolved specific functions to neighbouring macro states or former colonial powers. Additionally, they all frequently resort to recruiting foreign judges or ministers. 

While there is something distinctive about micro states, there are also, despite their commonalities, marked differences between historic and decolonised micro states. Thus, in my consideration of Liechtenstein’s constitutional experience, I limit myself to an analysis of historic micro states—specifically, the Co-principality of Andorra, the Principality of Liechtenstein, the Principality of Monaco, the Republic of San Marino and the Kingdom of Tonga.

When Liechtenstein is compared with other historic micro states, it becomes apparent that the Principality has been quite the pioneer. Indeed, although she is the most recently formed among them, dating back only to 1719, she was the first to embrace constitutionalism, adopting the Landständische Verfassung in 1818. She also closely followed the major constitutional reforms of the neighbouring macro states and borrowed some of these in the Konstitutionelle Verfassung (KonV) of 1862 and the Liechtensteinische Verfassung (LV) of 1921. It is noteworthy that the LV is continuously amended, the most significant being the 2003 amendment (for a critical opinion of the Venice Commission, see Opinion no. 227/2002 CDL-AD (2002) 32 on the Amendments to the Constitution of Liechtenstein Proposed by the Princely House of Liechtenstein, 2002), which has certainly contributed to the LV longevity. Furthermore, the Principality was the first state of diminutive size to question the role of such states in the international community—applying for membership to the League of Nations in 1920 and arguing, though unsuccessfully, she has the capacity to fulfil international obligations.

Out of the five historic micro states, three are monarchies (two principalities and one kingdom). Andorra cannot be appropriately counted as a monarchy, despite the office of ‘prince’ existing within its constitutional arrangements, because of the selection procedure of the incumbents. Indeed, the peculiarities of the Andorran experience lie in the fact that the state head is bicephalous (two-headed), and neither of the two princes is Andorran. Moreover, the Andorran heads of state—the princes—are not elected; they hold their positions by virtue of being the Catalan bishop of Urgell and the president of the French Republic. Thus, the comparative analysis is narrowed down to the three monarchies and their most distinctive trait, that is, that they are constitutional monarchies (Art. 2 Const. Monaco and Liechtenstein, Cl. 30 Const. Tonga).

The pivotal role played by the monarch (either the prince or the king) in each of these three monarchies reflects a traditional institutional arrangement far older than constitutionalism, which has not been significantly reformed by constitutionalism. Hence, the monarch is still endowed with sovereign power and is barely subjected to a proper system of checks and balances. Indeed, formally all three of the “traditional” Montesquian powers of the state still vest in the monarch, which is detrimental to the effective functioning of counterweights (when they do exist). Separation of powers is a critical issue in all micro states, albeit for different reasons. 

When the monarch's role within each of the three monarchies is analysed more closely, especially concerning the provision of counterbalancing powers, it becomes clear there are two different approaches—that in the Kingdom of Tonga on the one hand and the two European Principalities on the other. Indeed, the Tongan Constitution is far less concerned with establishing some powers to counter the monarch's. In contrast, the Monegasque Constitution provides for a duty of cooperation as between the different constitutional bodies (Art. 94, which relates to the constitutional amendment procedure but is widely understood to regulate all interaction between constitutionally established organs of state). One of the purposes of the cooperation obligation is to prevent constitutional bodies from abusing their powers—in this respect, reference is made mainly to the monarch. The Liechtenstein’s Constitution goes further when it creates two sovereigns. Indeed, according to Art. 2, the sovereign power is shared between the prince and the people. For this reason, Liechtenstein is regarded as an elliptic form of state, with the two sovereigns acting as a check on each other. In reality, the power of Liechtenstein’s constitutional monarchy is moderated by direct democracy. 

Indeed, unlike most micro states, Liechtenstein has many direct democratic practices, providing for the people’s participation, through referendums, in legislative initiatives, constitutional amendments and judges' appointments—even at the municipal level. However, the most distinctive trait of Liechtenstein direct democracy is how it is set up to function as a counter to the prince's power. These procedures are established by Art. 13ter and 113, both introduced by the 2003 constitutional amendment (LGBl. 2003 No. 186). The two articles, respectively, allow a minimum of 1,500 citizens to jointly table a reasoned motion of no confidence in the prince or initiate the abolition of the monarchy. However, the two provisions are quite different in their scope and aim. In particular, the viability of the procedure under Art. 13ter is questionable for two reasons. Firstly, for the motion of no confidence to succeed, the Landtag (the Diet) must issue a recommendation thereon at its next meeting and organise a referendum. Secondly, and this is more momentous, if the referendum confirms the motion of no confidence, the prince has the right to review this outcome in terms of the 1993 Hausgesetz des Fürstlichen Hauses Liechtenstein (Dynasty Law). Moreover, within six months, the prince must communicate whether or not he has decided, under the Dynasty Law, to institute disciplinary action against himself or even to depose himself for being unfit for office. Hence, the final decision on whether to take action based on the referendum sits with the princely family—the confirmation of the motion of no confidence does not bring about the automatic removal of the prince, which questions the equality of the two sovereigns. Nevertheless, a failed removal attempt might provoke a constitutional crisis resulting in an initiative to abolish the monarchy under Art. 113. The Art. 113 procedure gives the prince a last chance to “fight back”, as it gives him the right to propose a draft constitution of his own. It will be then up to the people to choose between the existing constitution, a republican draft prepared by the Landtag and the princely draft.

The Liechtenstein Constitution is distinctive from a comparative perspective, as this brief analysis suggests. I could have discussed several other provisions, with which I might have underlined the extent of the princely sovereignty; this would have allowed me to draw further parallels with Monaco and Tonga. However, the focus on the counterweights to the monarch’s power has allowed me to appraise instead the complexity of Liechtenstein constitutional arrangements, revised in an attempt to update the traditional role of the prince to 20th-century constitutionalism.

Elisa Bertolini is Associate Professor of Comparative Public Law at Bocconi University, Milan, Italy.

Suggested Citation: Elisa Bertolini, ‘The 1921 Constitution of Liechtenstein (LV) from a Micro State Perspective’ IACL-AIDC Blog (2 December 2021) https://blog-iacl-aidc.org/centenary-constitution-liechtenstein/2021/12/2/the-1921-constitution-of-liechtenstein-lv-from-a-micro-state-perspective.