The Election and Elections

Northland Age, Volume XVI, Issue 16, 22 November 1946, Page 4

The Election and Elections

Election time is here once more! Joy! What fun! And at times how terribly boring. Have you ever sat in a house and listened when the lord and master has his crackly radio set turned on full blast, while a frenzied political meeting grinds its way out of the loudspeaker? You have? Then you have felt one of the other sides of elections. Or then again, have you ever tuned into a well known political figure hoping to hear some sensational announcement and been fobbed off with weak little promises and dirt hurled at the party on the opposite side of the political fence. Then, again, you have felt that election year is not all the fun and games that people would have you believe. Of course I am not trying to tell you that there aren’t a lot bright spots in a political campaign. There are. Bright though they be, this country's elections cannot hope to come up to the standard of those in many other parts of the world. Even in our nearest neighbouring land Australia, they have Communists and all sorts of things, or so the papers say. We saw a headline in a paper just recently saying that some bright spark threw a bag of nuts and bolts at Mr. Menzies. Oh, I say, H6w jolly! We do not know whether Mr Menzies ducked or whether the thrower’s aim was upset by his intense political fervour; but there was no contact between Meifcies and bolts. Vive La Revolution Then gain in some countries when they want to do away with the Government they just don’t bother about elections. After all, a rifle bullet is so much cleaner, quicker, and less expensive. When the Government has been deposed in such a way just once, you don’t have them forever heckling from the Opposition benches as they do in all of the democracies. I wonder just how a revolution would go over in the Dominion of New Zealand. Perhaps after all such noisy occurrences are not for the staid, solid ones of the blue eyes and brown hair. It just isn’t done y’know. Oh, and of course there is still another type of election indulged in the Americas (this time it is North America). It happens that in the Great Smoky Mountains right up in them thar hills they still have people called Hill-billys, and it appears.that on the eve of an election these people rush happily around firing at one and all. It really can’t be a very healthy location in which to see an election through. But everybody seems to have a very happy time, and if one of the would-be politicians happens to stop a slug( which is more than likely just what will happen) the merriment goes on as if nothing happened. Everyone then runs round shooting at the other candidate for the honours.

Really it is a most satisfactory arrangement. But of course here in God’s Owr Country everyone is perfectly con tended to sling mud. Why Vote At All? Surely that Great lotion Russir has the most sensible policy of tht lot. As Mr. Boswell must have b.\ now noticed there is only one party which makes voting so much easier Naturally the one party will only nominate one candidate, and therefore the voter has only one person foi whom to vote How very sensible Trust the Russians to show the world the way to complete independence ot such tiring rigmarole. I had intended to touch briefly or voting in Spaii», but I am really afraid that as far as elections, and in fact all internal policy goes, General Franco has completely pulled the wool over 1 our eyes. But let’s pass on from Spain tc France. Ah! Paris in the Spring, “The last time I saw Paris, tra la la.’ Parisian elections are the most inspiring, probably, in the world. If the nation passes an election without some sort of a Crisis everyone is desolated. Over the years from about 1934 to the fall of France, the elections were always hotly contested by the Communist Party', and there were many gay street fights and broken heads in the principal towns of ia belle France. Yes, with their gay crowds of students, their blue uniformed gendarmerie, and their brawls French elections are probably the world’s most delightful and desirable, From France it is only a short twenty mile hop across the channel to the moist green islands of Great Britain. There the opposing party supporters do not rush madly around the streets attacking violently any person foolish enough to wear a rosette of a different colour. Oh, Gad, no! How positively barbaric old chap! They write letters to the “Times”—or if they' think along different lines, they j find that the “People” or “News of the World” gives vent to their feelings in no uncertain maner. Then on election day they go to the polls and put their feelings into a ballot box How very dull, but at the same time how very safe. Doncher think? When English Electors Were Really Rowdy But don’t get me wrong. At one time in the green and pleasant land ot England the political - season was a time when timid folk stay'ed off the streets. Yes, in England I said! Professor Joad in his delightful essay on Elections in Literature which starts off with the typically Joadish phrase “You can always propagate a propaganda if you have the proper geese,” tells of some of the brighter spots of the nineteenth century when there were “none of the solemn speeches about principles, none of the mealy'-nrouthed complimenting of opponents but honest straight forward abuse, oaths, mud, rotten eggs, beer and bribes, eating and drinking, junketting, love making, and merry makt.

ing” to instance just a few daily occurences. The most famous election in literature writes Professor Joad, is undoubtedly the contest recorded in “Pickwick Papers” between the Hon. Samuel Siumkey of Slumkey Hall, and Horatio Fitzkin Esq., of Fitzkin Lodge for the honour of representing the electors of Eatanswill. Mr. Pickwick and his friends arrive in Eatanswill on the eve of the elections and identify themselves with the Blue Party who support the honourable Samuel. His agent Mr. Perker introduces Mr. Pickwick to politics with an account of the various dodges employed by him, and the rival agent for getting hold of (he electors. “Fitzkin’s people have got three and thirty voters in the lock-up coach house at the White Hart.” “In the Coach-house” said Mr. Pickwick considerably astonished by this stroke of policy. “They keep them locked up there until they want ’em” resumed the little man. “The effect of this is, you see, to prevent our getting at them; and even if we could it would be no use, for they keep them drunk on purpose. Smart fellow, Fitzkin’s agent. Very smart fellow indeed.” Mrs. Perker retaliates with a “little tea party here, last night, five and forty women my dear sir, and gave every one of them a green parasol when she went away.” Sam Weller throws himself into the contest with his usual enthusiasm. “Well Sam,” said Mr. Pickwick as his valet appeared at his bedroom door . . . “all alive today I suppose?” “Reg’lar game sir,” replied Mr. Weller; “our people’s a collecting down at the Town Arms, and they’re a hollerin’ themselves hoarse already.” “Ah,” said Mr. Pickwick, “do they seem very devoted to their party Sam?” “Never seen such dewotion in my life sir.” “Energetic, eh?” “Uncommon,” said Sam. “I never see men eat and drink so much afore. I wonder they aren’t afeared of bustin.” “That’s the mistaken kindness of the gentry here,” said Mr. Pickwick. “Wery likely,” said Sam briefly. “Fine, fresh, hearty fellows they seem,” said Mr. Pickwick glancing from the window. “Wery fresh,” said Sam, “me and two waiters at the Peacock has been a pumpin’ over the independent woters as supped there last night.” “Pumping over the independent voters!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. “Yes” said his attendant, “every man ‘slept vere he fell down. We dragged them out by one this mornin’ and put ’em under the pump, and they’re in regular fine order by now. Shillin’ a head the committee paid for that ’ere job.” There are plenty of other good selections of literature dealing with the elections of the nineteenth century

some in serious vein and others in lighter style. As it Affects You Friend But I think that I have just about raid enough about elections in any part of the world. Except to tell you that you will go along to the polling booth next Wednesday, mark a little piece of paper with a pencil, and pop it quickly into a small box. You will then walk quickly away from the scene. • That night you will listen to , your radio. You will hear the election results, and you will go to bed either slightly | elated or slightly depressed—but you will go to bed just the same. No. You I won’t get a broken head in a drunken brawl. No you won’t dodge bullets around the corners of the Kaikohe post office. You will be perfectly safe. But you will miss a terrific lot of fun.