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May
24, 2001
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Looking
Glass
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Does
the voter have a choice?
The
best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with
the average voter. — Winston Churchill
There
would be a lot of takers for this particular sentiment at the moment
in India. The landslide victory by the AIADMK and its allies in
the recent Tamil Nadu assembly elections and the subsequent appointment
of Jayalalitha as chief minister has provoked a wave of dismay and
disapproval in the rest of the country.
Though
much discussion has centered around the legal loophole that barred
Ms Jayalalitha from standing for elections but not from becoming
chief minister, there is clearly a strong sense of disenchantment
with the Tamilian voter for what appears to be a stirring endorsement
of corruption. Given the fact that a leader facing as many as fourteen
corruption cases, and convictions in three of them, has been elected
with a thumping majority there seems little one can say in the voters
defence. Perhaps the electorate is the incompetent many
as Shaw said or fickle as Shakespeare once indicated.
Before
we rush to judgment perhaps it is time to look a little more closely
at the concept of public opinion and the systems we have evolved
to measure and interpret it. Unlike the developed world where every
shade of public opinion is avidly monitored with opinion polls and
media coverage, we in India tend to rely heavily on elections to
gauge the mood of the people. Not any election but parliamentary
and assembly elections. Not only do we expect them to serve up definitive
trends we expect them to be a statement of policy, a reflection
of current morality and a referendum on past performance.
Is
this really fair? For one thing, elections are but flawed processes.
In most elections, a substantial number (30-40 per cent) of the
electorate does not vote. Of those who do a small percentage can
swing the vote in favour of a candidate and a party. For practical
purposes an election must yield a winner but can a winner be said
to represent the unequivocal, undisputed will of the people?
In the specific case of Jayalalitha, contrary to perception, half
the electorate, according to provisional estimates that did turn
out to vote, did not choose the AIADMK and its allies. Elections
take place (usually) at five year intervals.
Given
the primacy we accord to elections as a barometer of public opinion,
it is assumed that on polling day, the voter will express all of
his or her myriad and complex expectations and disappointments of
the past and the next five years in one single action of choice.
This is patently absurd. If the same sort of attention was also
focused on other forms of expression: grassroot level movements,
the media, local elections then perhaps we might have a more complex
grasp of public opinion. It is this exaggerated emphasis on elections
that results in heightened expectations of new governments and the
predictable disillusionment a few years later.
Which
brings us to the third factor which is the assumption underlying
efforts to analyse public opinion, that there is a complex array
of choices before the masses. In reality, the choices are often
between the devil and the deep sea. The people of Tamil Nadu were
said to have been disappointed with several aspects of DMK rule,
including its elitist priorities. If so how were they to express
it? Indeed given the anti-incumbency factor that has become a mantra
for all elections the only choice the Indian voter has is to reject
all governments serially regardless of the alternatives.
Which
is not to absolve the Tamilian voter of culpability. Emotional propaganda
is said to have played a considerable role in these elections characterised
by landslide victories. Margaret Thatcher, to quote another British
prime minister maintained that There is little hope
for democracy if the hearts of men and women in democratic societies
cannot be touched by a call to something greater than themselves.
Arguably the Tamil Nadu voter chose to ignore the larger interests
of morality. But he or she has pointed to the political bankruptcy
that offers nothing but extreme choices.
It
is time to reassess the myth of the almighty Indian voter, not because
he is not powerful, but because his powers are limited by his options
and by the mode of expression. Acknowledging this will also reduce
our dependence on elections as mirrors of public opinion. If we
paid more attention to the spaces in between there might be a greater
chance for political responsiveness: for new initiatives or for
erring incumbents to correct themselves, mid-course, saving us from
the make or break melodramas that our elections have become.
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