Living Vicariously and Politically (a.k.a.: New Hampshire is Blue)

Originally, this was going to be about Rabat, which I've visited three times now. Then, it was going to be about coffee, and cafés, in Morocco. For a while, I blamed the delay in posting on Ramadan, but it might be that this whole time I was preoccupied with following the campaign season (and, occasionally, the Mets) online.

I didn't realize how much expectation I had built up for the election until I received my absentee ballot in the mail several days before Nov. 7. My ballot was meaningless in that the Democratic nominees for judge in Kings County civil court had in all likelihood already bought their seats, and my ballot wouldn't arrive on time anyway. (It did, however, remind me about the <Rent Is too Damn High> New York State gubernatorial candidate). Nonetheless, riding on optimism, I carried the ballot around with me for two days wanting to show it to everyone I knew before mailing it off.

On Tuesday night, following a day of willfull self-denial, I left my laptop positioned within reach of my bed for easy access the following morning, and wondered what I would do if
the results were disappointing. Then I wondered when I had got so caught up in the fortunes of the Democratic Party.

Some of my excitement was generated by the general optimism surrounding the campaign, to be sure. But I realized as well that I have been starved for some kind of political discussion (hence the foisting of the ballot on my unwitting classmates). It's not as if significant political developments aren't taking place within Morocco, where the contradictions between modernization, secularization, political Islam and a traditional monarchy are played out every day. In September, a dozen people were arrested, some of them wives of Royal Air Maroc pilots, allegedly for planning a terrorist attack. Last month, following elections for one of the houses of the rubber-stamp parliament, there were allegations of rampant vote-buying . And on the same weekend recently, one of the country's largest political Islamic groups held a convention while socialist groups were organizing vigils and soccer matches to commemorate the 41st anniversary of the still unresolved death of Mehdi Ben Barka, an opposition leader and social icon from the 60's.

Then I realized that there isn't a single political group on campus. Certainly, there must be plenty of political discussion that I miss on account of language. But when I asked a couple of students, one of them told me that as part of their matriculation to Al Akhawayn, Moroccan newcomers sign an agreement not to participate in political activities while at the university. I haven't been able to confirm this, but it certainly stands in contrast to Moroccan public universities (those not created by royal decree), where Islamists and socialists have been fighting over control of the student unions for some time. The atmosphere at Al Akhawayn also contrasts with my undergraduate experience where, in certain social circles, going to political protest, with little discrimination as to the subject matter, was a badge of honor. So, I realized that, in the last month, I've been rather pleased and felt rather lucky to be able to live, politically and vicariously, through these midterm elections.

Rather than simply take away the obvious lesson that "Democracy is Good (except, perhaps, when introduced through military invasion by crusading ideologues)," this election made me think of how I felt six years ago, when I was living the undergraduate experience that I just dismissively described. At the time I was idealistic and engaged with many ideas, explicitly political or otherwise, that I found interesting and inspiring. What I realize now, however, is that like love and hate, idealism and cynicism are closely related, and that my ideologically-driven disgust led me to cast a vote six years ago that my Uncle Frank will never (and should never) let me forget.

So this year, while identifying with Democratic success makes me feel a fair bit older, it's refreshing, for the time being, simply to find inspiration in the election outcome, at both a national and grassroots level. I found this dispatch from a couple of up-and-coming political operatives, who attended every schnitzelfest and bean supper in Southwestern New Hampshire this fall, the most uplifting of all:

The N.H. Democrats have captured the Senate, the Executive Council and even the House and of course the Governor's office. The voter turnout for Hancock was 71%. the highest in the region. Gov. John Lynch got 80% in Hancock and 70%+ statewide. Janeway beat Flanders for the Senate. A large number voted a straight Democratic ticket. In Keene Molly Kelly beat Tom Eaton for the N.H. Senate .

There is a man from Nelson, John Shea, who allows his name to be put on the Democratic line whenever no one else wants to run. Peter Spaulding, a Republican on the Exec. Council is quite popular and a moderate. Shea opposed Spaulding. After helping with the vote count at 10:30pm we decided to go to Henniker because others were meeting at David's Restaurant there. We only knew of the Hancock results. We were in the car listening to NHPR when we heard that Bass conceded to Hodes. Then that Jeb Bradley in the other Congressional district had conceded to Carol Shea-Porter. She ran on a shoestring, on a anti-war platform. At that point we felt the car levitating. Someone at the station had tried to reach Shea. The announcer said no one in Nelson, (population 600) seems to be answering their phones. They said that the message on Shea's phone said that he was away for a few days. He spent not a nickel and still won. It was a political tsunami. The gathering in Henniker was ecstatic. We got home and to bed at 1:30am Wed. What a day.