Power to the people

TESSA VANDERHART, STAFF

There aren’t any political parties in the Northwest Territories.

When electing representatives to one of two consensus governments in Canada, constituents choose on merit alone. The MLAs then elect a premier from amongst themselves. In the Oct. 1 election, the Yellowknife Centre riding was so close — within two per cent until the advance and special ballots were counted — that two candidates traded the lead back and forth. Two incumbents of the 19-member legislature were not reelected.

This, at first glance, seems like a victory of Canadian governance. No bickering, no vote-splitting, no wasted votes; no domineering majorities, no crazy fringes, no empty, soulless centrism.

Nunavut, the other consensus-based government (overseen by Nunavut Tunngavik Inc., an Inuit incorporated Inuit organization that negotiated the land transfer and will retain overseer status until it considers the transfer complete), has a neat advantage: governing a nearly homogenous people. Because of this, the government is able to commit to “Inuit Qaujimajatuqangit as a guiding principle of public government,” according to the territory’s website.

“IQ embodies Inuit traditional knowledge and values, and guides the government in framing decisions, policies and laws that reflect the key philosophies, attitudes and practices of Nunavut’s Inuit majority,” the website continues.

Compare this system to Ontario, which votes next week on — in addition to a new provincial government — a new mixed-member proportional representation system. Although the province doesn’t formally have a consensus government, no party has been elected to govern Ontario with a majority of votes in more than 60 years. Proportional representation, for this reason, seems like the best thing since consensus government (if PR hadn’t actually come first . . . ).

Never mind that the Toronto Star reported proudly on Sept. 26 — two weeks before the vote — that 60 per cent of Ontarians knew that there was a plebiscite on massive foundational changes to the provincial electoral system. Or that the single-ballot, double-vote system (once for party, once for candidate) will allow a party with three per cent of the vote to capture four seats in the 129-seat provincial legislature.

Currently, Ontario has 12 registered political parties (as of 2003, the Natural Law Party and the Reform Party of Ontario, two of the three scariest Ontarian parties, voluntarily de-registered). If (by some chance) proportional representation is accepted (by 60 per cent of the voters in 50 per cent of the ridings) in Ontario, parties like the Party for People with Special Needs, which doesn’t have an official website listed on the Elections Ontario site, could field elected officials.

And this great, shocking democracy isn’t unique to Canada. The New York Times reported on Oct. 1 that Russian President Vladimir Putin might seek the prime ministership during his country’s parliamentary elections in December.

Further, “orange revolutionaries” could be taking over Ukraine as the Associated Press report of preliminary vote-counts on Oct. 2 announced a victory for current President Viktor Yushchenko and opposition leader Yulia Tymoshenko over the Russian-backed Prime Minister Viktor Yanukovych. Of course, Yanukovych received 34 per cent of the popular vote to Tymoshenko’s 31 per cent and Yuschenko’s 14 per cent, with a potential coalition-forming 11 per cent contingent of fringe parties to make things interesting. Or, at least, reaffirm the confounding political deadlock that led to the election in the first place.

All this, however, matters so little, when the most important factor is assessed for its full power. Forgive me for pointing this out, but every democracy dealt with herein — Russia, Ukraine, Canada, N.W.T., Manitoba, the Manitoban — is imperfect, at best, and a dictatorship at worst. Consider: here I am, working the Manitoban, again, for the seventh consecutive time, into my editorial. If the Manitoban were a true democracy, this wouldn’t be possible; but really I can just write whatever I want. Obviously Putin’s position is no different — he’s laughing at us all, right now, mad with power — the lucky bastard.

But in the political systems most important to us, those of our country and our province, there is no evil-doer at the helm; rather, omnipotently protecting our well-being, we have the bureaucracy.

Because the Canadian bureaucracy is supposed to be nonpartisan, they’re allowed to stay on from government to government. The federal civil service employs more Canadians than any other employer, though it’s difficult to find a precise number — the public service of Canada website instead chooses to focus on a push for recruitment, not unlike the master of public administration class I’m enrolled in. The implication is simple: if you’re interested in finding information about government, you should join the coalition of the willing, the unelected (but well-groomed) masses; you should be interested in being part of the solution.

Of course, when finally considering who developed the plan to vote on proportional representation, who has been responsible for advertising it, for making that 60 per cent of the Ontario population aware, for administering those who administer the vote on Oct. 10, it’s not even a question of politics, but rather one of trust.

Almost exactly 50 years ago, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road proclaimed that “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn.”

Who are these people?

In a world where 56 per cent of the N.W.T. could vote to create a new territory but 58 per cent of British Columbians couldn’t change their electoral system, and where (tampering excluded) likely a majority of Ukrainians who voted for an “orange revolution” are still fundamentally without one, let’s hope, that this time — just once, for Ontario’s sake — it will be the voters.