21Oct2004
You must have seen the scene in Fawlty Towers where Basil Fawlty was about to go into the dining room to wait on two German tourists. “Now Basil” exhorts his wife Sybil “whatever you do don’t mention the war.” “I must not mention the war” replies Basil as he goes high goose stepping, Nazi saluting through the door and into the dining room. “Good evening. I am here to take your order. And by the way I’m not to mention the war.”
It’s a bit like that for me this week. I was exhorted by many not to mention the election. Not the election in Afghanistan. Not John Howard’s victory in Australia. A victory not celebrated by all. As one commentator, Alan Ramsay, in the Sydney Morning Herald remarked “how on earth could we have put this scheming mendacious little man and his miserable claque back in office for another three years?” And certainly not the Local Body elections here. You don’t have to worry about the District Health Board elections. It appears they didn’t take place. Well have you seen any results? Like Basil Fawlty I won’t mention the elections except to make just a few points.
Some how they seem to have got it right in Afghanistan. This was the country along with a couple of its old neighbours who not only invented the Abacus but apparently still use it. Who remembers the Abacus? Well I do. I had one at the end of my cot. I was too young at the time to know its official title. But as an infant I spent many a languid day standing by my Abacus as I aimlessly pushed the top row of blue beads along to a row of red beads. Sometimes I even branched out into the second and third rows where the beads were green, yellow and black. I found this early Abacal cot training stood me in great stead in later life. So have the Afghans. They hadn’t voted for years. They turned out in their millions. Dipped their thumbs in some indelible ink to prevent cheating and double voting. And in this war racked country before you could say “camels dung” they checked everyone’s thumbs. Counted all the votes. Proclaimed a President. In about 48 hours.
So what happened to us? To begin with only 45% of all eligible voters throughout New Zealand decided to exercise what we loftily call “our democratic right to vote”. And when you see what’s happened in the counting process you really can’t blame the other 55% of voters who stayed at home. Or didn’t bother to lick and post off the envelope containing the ballot papers. Chris Carter the Minister of Internal Affairs is promising a full ministerial enquiry into the debacle. Well that’s the sort of comment you’d expect. Mayors in areas where a number of votes cast are still uncertain are righteously fulminating with remarks like “disgusting”, “distressing”, “disgraceful” and “deplorable”. It reminds me of an old Cole Porter song “Delightful, delicious, delovely.” Much as the Minister would like it, as with all ministerial enquiries it will achieve nothing. All it will find in the end is that there is really no substitute for the Abacus. Every returning officer should have one along with a bottle of indelible ink. You might have thought those Afghans living in those caves for centuries oppressed by the Taliban, sheltering Al Quaeda had a lot to learn. Not so. They had a lot to teach us. They’ve shown us up. I bet that in the far flung provinces of Afghanistan there’s not a member of a District Health Board sitting in a cave waiting to be put out his electoral misery. But they not only gave us the Abacus. When they put a walnut on top of a chocolate brownie and called it an Afghan they really took the biscuit.
It’s a bit like that for me this week. I was exhorted by many not to mention the election. Not the election in Afghanistan. Not John Howard’s victory in Australia. A victory not celebrated by all. As one commentator, Alan Ramsay, in the Sydney Morning Herald remarked “how on earth could we have put this scheming mendacious little man and his miserable claque back in office for another three years?” And certainly not the Local Body elections here. You don’t have to worry about the District Health Board elections. It appears they didn’t take place. Well have you seen any results? Like Basil Fawlty I won’t mention the elections except to make just a few points.
Some how they seem to have got it right in Afghanistan. This was the country along with a couple of its old neighbours who not only invented the Abacus but apparently still use it. Who remembers the Abacus? Well I do. I had one at the end of my cot. I was too young at the time to know its official title. But as an infant I spent many a languid day standing by my Abacus as I aimlessly pushed the top row of blue beads along to a row of red beads. Sometimes I even branched out into the second and third rows where the beads were green, yellow and black. I found this early Abacal cot training stood me in great stead in later life. So have the Afghans. They hadn’t voted for years. They turned out in their millions. Dipped their thumbs in some indelible ink to prevent cheating and double voting. And in this war racked country before you could say “camels dung” they checked everyone’s thumbs. Counted all the votes. Proclaimed a President. In about 48 hours.
So what happened to us? To begin with only 45% of all eligible voters throughout New Zealand decided to exercise what we loftily call “our democratic right to vote”. And when you see what’s happened in the counting process you really can’t blame the other 55% of voters who stayed at home. Or didn’t bother to lick and post off the envelope containing the ballot papers. Chris Carter the Minister of Internal Affairs is promising a full ministerial enquiry into the debacle. Well that’s the sort of comment you’d expect. Mayors in areas where a number of votes cast are still uncertain are righteously fulminating with remarks like “disgusting”, “distressing”, “disgraceful” and “deplorable”. It reminds me of an old Cole Porter song “Delightful, delicious, delovely.” Much as the Minister would like it, as with all ministerial enquiries it will achieve nothing. All it will find in the end is that there is really no substitute for the Abacus. Every returning officer should have one along with a bottle of indelible ink. You might have thought those Afghans living in those caves for centuries oppressed by the Taliban, sheltering Al Quaeda had a lot to learn. Not so. They had a lot to teach us. They’ve shown us up. I bet that in the far flung provinces of Afghanistan there’s not a member of a District Health Board sitting in a cave waiting to be put out his electoral misery. But they not only gave us the Abacus. When they put a walnut on top of a chocolate brownie and called it an Afghan they really took the biscuit.
posted by Lundon at 2:01 PM
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