Democracy is a Living, Fragile Thing

As we descend into the depths this current election cycle, it is easy for me to wish that this nightmare was over. November 5th is not far away, but it is likely that our collective agony won’t end there. If the recent past is any indication, the results of the presidential election won’t be known for a long time as there will probably be recounts and lawsuits to follow the actual casting of votes. The conclusion to this strange and twisted political campaign promises to be ugly as sin.

Somehow, this all makes me think of when I was teaching the citizenship class at Voces de la Frontera in Milwaukee. I did that for several years and only stopped when I became the fulltime caregiver for our grandson, Asher. Prior to being constantly busy with a little boy, I would go to Voces once a week to help qualified immigrants prepare for their interview with USCIS. On Wednesday evenings, I would sit with several green card holders, usually from Mexico, and we would go over what they needed to know to become naturalized citizens. This was a long and arduous process, often nerve-wracking for the people who wanted to become full-fledged Americans.

One portion of our s concerned civics. We talked extensively about how the U.S. government works or fails to do so. I told them about the variety of ways they could become involved in America’s version of democracy. They could contact their elected officials, write letters to newspapers or other media outlets, publicly protest government policies, put up a yard sign, join a political party, or act in a number of other ways. I would always make one request to each group of students:

“Do one thing for me. Vote. I don’t care who you vote for. It’s none of my business. But vote. Voting is the absolute least you can do as a citizen of this country. Do that.”

Democracy is a living thing. It is also fragile. Like a plant in a garden, it needs to be tended and nurtured. Lately, we haven’t been very good at that. Democracy can easily be killed off by apathy. When I say, “My vote doesn’t matter”, I am destroying our political system in a small yet tangible way. When thousands or millions of citizens shrug their shoulders and say, “Who cares?”, then we are well on our way to anarchy or tyranny.

Likewise, fanaticism is fatal to our democracy. I am allergic to zealots of all stripes. I admire people who are passionate and enthusiastic about a cause. However, that fervor has to be tempered. I have to be aware that my side might lose the argument and be willing accept that result. I also need to accept that, God forbid, my opinion is wrong. That’s hard. Centuries ago, Oliver Cromwell said to his political opponents: “I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you might be mistaken.”

Elections in our country tended to be sordid affairs, full of lies and corruption. However, they are also an essential marketplace for ideas. The candidates, when they are not busy slandering each other, have to describe their goals and policies. Some of their ideas are silly, some are monstrous, and a few are brilliant. An election allows each citizen to shop for ideas, and by extension to choose a possible future for themselves and their country.

I will be so glad when this election is over. However, I am also grateful that we are able to have one.  

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Frank (Francis) Pauc is a graduate of West Point, Class of 1980. He completed the Military Intelligence Basic Course at Fort Huachuca and then went to Flight School at Fort Rucker. Frank was stationed with the 3rd Armor Division in West Germany at Fliegerhorst Airfield from December 1981 to January 1985. He flew Hueys and Black Hawks and was next assigned to the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, CA. He got the hell out of the Army in August 1986.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.