“We all deserve what the majority chose, even if they were wrong.”
When we talk of democracy, we always think of ideals that are above petty, dreams that transcends realities, and public officials who serve beyond the call of duty.
When we talk of twisted democracy, we always think of ideals that are trendy, dreams that distorts realities, and public officials who serve themselves beyond the call of duty.
What kind of democracy have we in place?
The results of the election were never to be doubted. The popular won hands down. The more deserving bit the dust, ignored because he was not as skillful in the strategies of selling himself to the public.
“Better luck next time,” I told the vegetable farmer, consoling him for his horrendous defeat. “That is if you intend to run again.”
“If the people want stagnation, so be it,” he said without a hint of despair. He had accepted the verdict. “I’ll go back to my farm and be rich.”
His words rang some truth. Even in the national scene, not many businessmen enter politics. They simply support politicians who could help their businesses. That way, they could hide in the background, slowly but surely increase their wealth without even soiling their hands in the dirty game of political machinations.
“I could not explain why they picked him every time. It’s a puzzle for me.”
“Not for me,” he said, allowing himself a rare smile. “He is the godfather extraordinaire.”
As if struck by a bolt of enlightenment, I finally understood the key to his popularity.
“I think you are correct. Almost everyone in the village has connection to him. His clan members voted solidly. He is a godparent to numerous couples, to former teens in their confirmations and to babies in their baptisms. Count every individual connected to them, all he needed to do is to campaign to those unattached.”
“Like you,” he added immediately. “Frankly, I am connected to him, too. He is the godfather of my eldest son.”
“Running against him is a no-win battle,” I concluded. “He is destined to reign like a monarch.”
‘That’s how rural folks choose their leaders. They favored continuity rather than testing new bloods to show what they can offer.”
“Even if the leader does not lead them to progress?” I did not want to accept this line of reasoning.
“They get the dole outs time and again, crumbs that they are grateful to receive once in a while.”
“That’s too shallow,” I said. “They should have seen him benefiting handsomely in his position while their conditions remain unchanged.”
“I saw that years before so I attempted to run against him. The others turned a blind eye instead.”
“It’s hopeless then,” I surmised, “to change the way this village is governed.”
“There’s one thing that can defeat him.”
“Pray, tell what is it?”
“Death.” he said, knocking on wood. “He is old and ailing. Those who wish to get his position are waiting in the wings, plotting against one another in case he is elected to a permanent post out of this world.”
“And that’s your cue to run again.”