| Tony ( @ 2008-02-22 09:47:00 |
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| Current music: | All Awake - I Mother Earth |
| Entry tags: | anecdote, politics |
Democracy and me: from kites to teabags
My introduction to the notion of democracy dates back to 1988 when General Zia, then then military head of state, was assassinated in an aeroplane explosion. During the weeks and months that followed, the country was engulfed by the competition between various political parties to fill the power vacuum left in Zia's wake. Karachi, as the country's commercial centre, was thrust into the midst of this political maelstrom. Being a naturally curious child, I was fascinated by the fervent political campaigning and have a vivid memory of drawing the flags of various political parties onto kites and trying to fly them from the 3rd story balcony of one of my grandmother's neighbours. At the time, I could not fully appreciate the magnitude of what was going on; I just knew that it was more exciting than the placid existence I had known during Zia's regime.
Nine years and three ousted Prime Ministers later, I had a different taste of democracy when Jean Chrétien, mangling both English and French equally, thundered to a second term as Prime Minister. This election was an order of magnitude less chaotic than any I'd seen before and Chrétien was very popular amongst the people. I even voted for his party to elect him for a third term in 2000. Our faith in him, however, was rewarded by the sort of corruption I thought didn't happen in industrialized nations. A tad disillusioned but unwilling to betray my socially liberal values with a Conservative vote, unable to vote for the Bloc because they didn't run in my riding and uninspired by the NDP, I cast my ballot in favour of the Greens. Thanks to the regionally fractured electoral system, the Greens didn't even win a single seat out the 308 available, despite securing more than 4% of the popular vote (while the Bloc exploited the same systemic defect to grab more than a sixth of the seats with a mere 11% of the popular vote). It was around that time when I decided that democracy ought to be liquid not representative.
Fast forward another eleven years and I find myself living in yet another country and unable to vote (despite being taxed). Reviving an ancient tradition here, I threw some tea into the Boston Harbour when I was there recently.