To Transplant Democracy

By:Dr. G. Rauf Roashan

As I slid the plastic ballot card into the Accuvote machine in this quiet polling place in northern California, my thoughts traveled thousands of miles away in the heart of Asia, in Afghanistan, where democratic process is awaiting to be practiced some time in June this year.

In the almost serene surroundings of the polling place situated in a somewhat luxurious home for the elderly, besides a few jubilant and cooperative election officials, there were no government or party representatives or activists, no police or soldier. The machine in my booth, one of many, looked efficient and technology was user friendly. Also, besides my driving license, I did not have to present any cumbersome documentation in order to be able to vote. Nobody asked me for name of my father or the name of my tribe or the chief of my district or village or clan. The Registrar for our county had already my name and address listed in the book. I had a clear mind as to what was at stake in this primary election. I knew exactly which items on the polls required partisan voting and which ones did not. The Registrar of our county had made sure of this by sending me, beforehand, documentation explaining not only about the people who were to be voted for, but also the measures on the ballot. I had a clear comprehension of the people and the measures. I knew who was who and who wanted to do what and I had been informed as to the views, both pro and con, about all the measures on the ballot. There was no compulsion, no pressure and no influence that would sway my firm belief in my decision as to which items I would vote for and why? At that moment, I cherished not only democracy and democratic process, but felt proud of being a dignified member of the society exercising not only my right but also my obligation in the civil society. And then again my thoughts crossed many lands and many oceans to get to Afghanistan where there is an effort to transplant Western style democracy in about three months time.

I put myself at a polling station at any of the Afghan provinces. The city where the station would be located would be crowded. The station would be surrounded by scores of police wearing not only wrinkled blue uniforms, but also trimmed and untrimmed beards of varying sizes. There would be an equal or slightly more number of soldiers with maroon colored uniforms badly in need of laundering. They would be carrying Klashnikovs on their shoulders and would be moving aimlessly around the station. There would be warlord supporters and party activists who would bring busloads of voters from near and far villages to the station. The voters would have been entertained during the past weeks by the warlords who would have asked them to vote either for them or the candidate they wanted to be elected. The voters would in the most cases know the only one name given them by the warlords and the party activists. This would be all they knew about the candidate. There would be a noisy long line, broken many times by brawls and crowding of the voters. Inside, there would be the famous ballot boxes that would have to be locked under the supervision of the UN employed overseers. There would of course be some UN and other international observers, who would observe with some degree of awe and or frustration the process of people unfamiliar with democracy exercising rather blindly the process by putting their ballots in the box. They would have asked for directions several times on where to mark their choice, as many would be illiterates. Many times, there would have been arguments about whether a particular voter was registered here or elsewhere or not registered at all. The clerks would have great difficulty finding the names of the voters in their books. But finally miracles would happen and many would get their ballots into the boxes. At the end of the day people would be let walk all the way back to their villages not knowing what would happen next and questioning why were they not given the ride back in the same buses that brought them to the station. And then there would be news items some praising the process, some finding faults and irregularities with it. The losers would blame the government for rigging the elections and the winners arrogantly denying this.

The Western supporters of Afghanistan would be jubilant to announce that as they had predicted, democracy was perfectly exercised in Afghanistan and that everyone there was happy and the world should be happy too.

Collecting my thoughts, I returned to my own polling station in this small and beautiful city in Northern California and touched "yes" for the measure that supported education and schools. Immediately I saw a check mark appear in the box on the screen assuring me that my choice was recorded. Taking my time, I went from item to item on the ballot touching the screen for my choices of either 'yes' or 'no' and choosing the candidates of my choice by just touching the relevant boxes on the screen moving from one page to the next. The final page gave me the choice of either reviewing my choices or requesting submission of my vote for recording. I chose the "Review" button and once again looked at the marking for my choices and approvingly decided to touch the button for recording. The screen then reassured me that my voting was recorded. I knew the technology would have helped me even if I had certain disabilities. Thankfully I did not need that kind of help at this time.

Only at the end of the day a variety of mass media would tell me in my car, in my home, on my TV, in my internet connection, and in the newspapers, about the results of the primary elections and I would not have to wait days or weeks for the votes to be counted and arguments to be settled and the reports to be cleared for publication. 03/06/04

As I was leaving the station and as the senior gentleman who served as an election official was cracking a joke and thanking me and inviting me to come again next fall, I again remembered elections elsewhere in the third world countries and I wondered and I questioned the possibility of transplantation of my democratic process into other societies that need to traverse the hard road to democracy by enhancing educational institutions and nurturing of social well being and economic prosperity, before real and complete comprehension and appreciation of democratic process. 03/06/04