Darkness, noise and light

When the screens — small ones in the palm of the hands of the voters, and larger ones in various election offices — went dark, a sense of déjà vu was inevitable. We have been down this road before. Which time was worse is a matter of debate, and perhaps irrelevant today. We had thought that those stale tricks were from the years past, but the distinction between present, past and the future often seems twisted and unrecognisable. But it was not just the literal darkness that was troubling. There were plenty of other aspects that were clouded by dark shadows of official and societal behavior. Much has been written about the proverbial level-playing field and the absurdity of policies and decisions seen in the last few months in general, and the last few days before elections in particular. But the shroud of darkness is bigger than policies and court decisions. It envelopes the society at large. For example, how do we account for the fact that out of nearly 6,500 candidates competing in the elections, barely 5% were women? In 2024, in a country where the electorate is 50% women, how can we be okay with only one candidate out of twenty being a woman? Then there are towns like Dhurnal (in Talagang) where men did not allow women to vote. There are probably other places like Dhurnal all over the country. Are we okay with this?

As the screens went dark, literally and proverbially, on the evening of February 8^th, there was a chorus of noise. Some arguments that were raised were valid and substantial (e.g. how come, after the pause only one side got a jump in their votes across the board?), other were conspiracy theories without evidence. With the large amount of data coming from unofficial sources, the line between projections, early results, and “calling” a result got muddled. Early trends were viewed with a sense of finality. The ideas of statistical sampling, historical trends, voting patterns, and how different sections of the same constituency may vote differently based on demographics were ignored completely. Along with bombastic claims from various parties, the noise only added to the chaos of the darkness.

But the real story is neither about the darkness nor the noise — it is about the light that emerged in the early hours of February 9^th. A light that showed defiance in the face of exhaustion, hopelessness and anxiety. A light that was brought forth by both urban and rural communities that came to the polls and took their constitutional right seriously. A light that emanated from the first time voter who had just become eligible to cast their ballot, and those who were born before the country existed on any map. A light that was carried by those born in immense privilege and those who have barely enough to eat.

I know that I am at a great distance from the country, and hence my view is both imperfect and skewed. I recognise that I have not spoken to a large number of voters beyond family and friends. Also, I have no problem admitting that I do not agree with the policies of a particular party, have serious concerns about their views on many important matters, consider their performance to be mediocre at best, and find the cults of personality deeply objectionable. But I cannot help but be optimistic about an electorate that is able to defy the odds and speak loudly in a mature and peaceful manner. I want to celebrate the light and hope that it shines the path forward where the people get to actually choose their elected representatives and participate actively in the democratic process. May the light of defiance continue to shine!

Published in The Express Tribune, February 13^th, 2024.

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