In the democratic land of the blind it is not the one-eyed man who is king, but the blind man who convinces his peers that he has an all-seeing walking stick.
Of course he has no way of proving this, neither to himself nor to the throng, but through charm and superficial popularity, maybe even underhanded methods, he causes his equally blind following to believe that they – in their ignorant majority – know best. The question that comes to mind is what happens to the one-eyed man? The answer historically is that he is seen as elitist, not of the people – unsympathetic.
Democracy, at least in its practical form, is the opiate-laced grail from which we imbibe a sweet brew of bitter partisanship, money-worship and often blatant corruption. Like all drugs, however, it occasionally wears off, and after the vertiginous fall from horde hubris we are left with that bitter taste in our mouth. What do we do then? We drink from the grail again, and wax lyrical about ‘rule by the people, for the people’ and how much power we have as an electorate. It is a mere repetitive velleity, however, bluster incapable of leading to action – and sooner or later we are force-fed the bitter brew again; oh, but fear not for the blind man has fortified the grail once more with sweet opiate and perhaps made it even sweeter with a fistful of cash. Even the intoxicated, blind throng see the dominant tint of green in all its glory.
In this miasmic cycle, electorates accept the despotic rule of money and power, all because of the cosmetics of choice. Majority-empowered governments, depending on how barefaced they feel on the day, hire their friends, offer them contracts, attempt to silence or infiltrate the supposed ‘vox populi’ of the media, keep tainted officials in the Executive, subvert the very constitution they swore to uphold. Oh, but they answer to the people every four years and are purified in the River Jordan of the free and fair electorate. And how free and fair we are, intoxicated by charisma, caressed by money and shafted by power. So grandiose and wise in our majority we are that we don’t even notice that the very ideals we imbibed so readily no longer exist in a constitutional ‘democracy’. For the main ‘lawmakers’ in the literal sense of making and seeing to administration of our laws (laws which are supposedly an embodiment rule by the people, mind you) and even review acts of Parliament, are not at all answerable to the people. At least there are some mercies in life.
The Court, whenever it is called upon by a brave citizen, can act as last stand against the ‘people’s government’ and review the acts of the unspecialised populists who we have bestowed with the purity of ‘people power’. The Court as an organism is generally benevolent and acts in the best interest of the wider society. But, ever so often as is human wont, the Court is pervaded by individual ego, vice and perhaps well-intentioned overzealousness. Supposedly, democracy should act as a shield to this and the people’s Parliament should rein them in. However, constitutional democracies recognise that representative democracy is a quasi-narcotic sham and ensure that the Court is given a wide berth of our politicians and electorate. Long live people power.
The conclusion is that democracy in itself is seductive in theory; however, in practicality it becomes a quixotic word, used to apply cosmetics to a contradictory, despotic cycle of money and power. The oft applied defence by its proponents is that it is the best of the evils. The best form of government, however, does not come under any singular ideology or word. It is neither guided by the loudest bay of voices, nor shrouded in popular cosmetics. We should stop believing it is. Even this flawed system could work better if we disavow ourselves of the conviction that a party-based, popularity contest of a government is somehow romantic – or that the electorate is ‘free and fair’. The first step is recognising that the problem is not wicked government, but us, the intoxicated who have put them there. Rehabilitation is not so hard after that.
Embrasse l’Aurore.
Yakum
Views are my own.
Odyssey of an Oligomaniac 