On Voting
St. Paul
identified himself, saying “I am … a citizen of no mean city” being Tarsus, of
Cilicia (Asia Minor), now in modern Turkey. To be a citizen was, and still is,
an honour, while being a stateless person is a complication at best: perhaps
more likely a troubled status.
Some find our Parliament too much
like a circus, with acrobats doing flip-flops and hanging by their toes:
confronted with politicians too hard to respect, they’re tempted not to vote.
If both sides of politics (meaning the affairs of the city — polis in Greek — or matters for the
whole body of citizens) lack creditable candidates, what to do?
Idealists shudder at the thought of
the essentially democratic process of compromise, confronted with
uncompromising factions, cabals and ideologues. We long for benevolent,
charismatic, successful politicians and discover left- and right-wing
weaknesses. We are, however, citizens.
We are citizens of no mean country.
We must use thoughts and hearts to find those closest to our principles, even when
choosing from the charmless, ignorant, divisive: we have an obligation to the
affairs of the citizen body, matters before the nation. There is never
perfection. But we can do the honourable thing, and vote.
