Caucus Envy

Nothing good ever started with a cliché such as, “the older I get” concordantly I shall avoid making such a statement in this particular line of thought. Sufficed to say I no longer want to conquer the world, as I did in my youth. What else was an ambitious fifteen year old to do while being bored by mediocre tenth grade English teacher with a penchant for persecution of heretics within the classroom? Brian Stapley, I am talking about you. Inquisitional remanding aside, my hobby that year was to divide the world, as seen though the two page political map in my school mandated organizer, and appoint my friends as defacto governors. Meanwhile, I would bask as only a soon to be imperator can. While most of the old governors have since fallen out of my favor, my political aspirations remain steadfast albeit more reasonable than establishing myself as a global sovereign. For that reason, I took it upon myself to become actively involved myself with my chosen political party. In my mind, the plan was sound. Deliver an impassioned speech or two within the riding, wait for the inevitable collapse of the current minority government and then announce my candidacy within the party. My local activity would then make me easily recognized when the riding would vote on the candidate. As for winning the actual seat in parliament, I would depend on my youthful optimism and media savvy. Thus, the first step in my Caesarian rise to power began at the Howard Johnson hotel on a muggy July afternoon. I had convinced my friend and fellow party member Ken to join me that evening. Our theories on the meeting itself split between old men in true parliamentarian style thumping books and mumbling inaudibly, or a hodgepodge of the elderly with nothing better to do then attend as an excuse to leave their house. The latter was more correct with the addition of social misfits and those who have not yet mastered the science of dental hygiene. I won’t lie, there’s a sense of power when you look around a room and know that you are the most educated. There is a realization of said power when you listen to the conversations around you and are affirmed that you are not only the most educated, but most affluent and well read. However, when you are on top looking down, you see the world in a different light and begin to lose faith in the system. In this instance, the biggest flaw in the system is the people who are allowed to vote therein. Of the fourteen people assembled at this riding association meeting, eight were elder folk in attendance for the social interaction. Another gentleman was there to wag his finger and tip his hat accordingly to everything everybody else said. His hat, for the record, was a green trucker cap embroidered with the word “Simpsons” on the front. A late comer to the gathering was a woman who wore a face mask as was the rage back during the S.A.R.S. outbreak. Her role was to divert discussion away from the agenda of foreign policy resolutions to her own personal agenda of “pity me for I am a loser”. The final two men to arrive missed the voting but were present for the plethora of off topic discussion. Seemingly, their function was to mention they were unemployed and that they had been hard done by the system. The details of the legislation that I opposed are inconsequential to the story. In short, it was proposed by the leftist caucus of the party whereby they demanded the United States alter their foreign policy to suit the leftists’ desires. I delivered an impassioned speech against said resolution and was then referred to by the chair as, “The well spoken brother in the back”. I enjoyed my laurels but they were to be short lived. The discussion that followed my speech was most disheartening. One of the executives in attendance ranted, and trust me this was a rant, about Canadian neutrality which both supported and rebuffed my statement. ‘Mask Lady’ became angry at his words. She demanded that somebody define for her the word ‘caucus’. Then, she slammed her fist on the table disgusted with the fact nothing she cared about was on the table to be voted upon and wanted to know why she couldn’t make her own resolutions. The chair kindly explained that the deadline for resolution submission was three months ago, but she would not hear it. For fifteen minutes she yelled about her plight and personal frustration with the system. At which point the elders became aware of their surroundings and asked questions about the marine industry. Another septuagenarian began her diatribe with, “I’m not politically savvy but…” That lasted for ten minutes. After half an hour the Chairman asserted his authority and brought the meeting back under control citing my speech and asked somebody to motion for a vote – which I readily did. The resolution to dictate foreign policy to the United States was defeated and shortly there after the meeting was adjourned. I had struck my first blow. But looking around that the rabble that had helped form policy I could not help but be disappointed. My painstakingly crafted words that eschewed the third runner up of the Canadian Parliament from dictating terms to America was misinterpreted as objecting to the wording of the resolution and not its essence. A vote on delegates to be sent to Quebec City for a federal party meeting wholly broke down into a forum for singing sad, sad songs and putting to rest the confusion of the elderly. These are the people that care about politics. Are they a microcosm for all those within society that take up the mantle of participation in the democratic process above and beyond mere voting? I certainly hope not. I must ponder what the meeting would have been like had I not been there to speak. I’m sure that the plebs would have eventually voted down the resolutions on grounds of “It is too hot in here” or some other non sequitur. But what if a member of the left caucus had been there to argue as passionately for his cause as I argued against? “By withdrawing supporting this policy you ensure that people with (insert special interest here) will receive more federal funding.” Judging from what I observed, those people voted not with their values or their principles, but in support of the most skilled orator. Plebeians and Optimates – notions that I thought were confined to antiquity but were readily apparent within that meeting. There may be a measure of arrogance involved in casting myself as an Optimate, but I would not trust a person who has to ask “What’s a caucus” with setting my party’s policy. Over beers that night, Ken and I discussed how our mutual faith in democracy was shaken. I was feeling nostalgic for the days of a Means Test determining your right to franchise. Obviously, I don’t think the people from that meeting, so woefully ignorant of seemingly everything on the agenda, should be disenfranchised but I fear for the future of my political party when people like this are allowed to set policy. But, in a society that stresses personal responsibility, I suggest that those who do not understand a topic avoid voting in political forums where policy is ratified. Attend, learn about topics from interested parties, but abstain from voting unless you have a clear stance of the issues at hand. As it would be irresponsible to trust a nine year old with a revolver, it is irresponsible of a person who is ignorant of a topic – in this case foreign policy – to exercise a policy setting franchise such that they could detrimentally affect the entire nation. Take your limited sentience to the polls on election days – I would never encourage somebody to forsake their right to vote – but do not impose your vapidity in a situation that has the potential for broader implications than a single vote within a riding. What is a caucus indeed!