Why I don't vote: Christianity, the vote and social change
This article was published in
Zadok Perspectives 96.
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A federal election looms, and for
the first time in a long time it appears to be an interesting contest. The
Australian public has taken to Rudd like a cat takes to cream, and Howard is on
the ropes, struggling to shrug off the blows of successive negative polls. Part
of the enthusiasm with which Australians are approaching this election is due
to the belief that this time, maybe, our vote will mean something more than
exchanging a rotten Golden Delicious for a rotten Pink Lady, that our
participation in the political process will have some effect. But is the
reverse in fact the true state of things?
Voting at elections helps to perpetuate the
fallacy that social change occurs by electing governments to carry our reforms
on our behalf.[1]
Australia is a proxy nation, like
most developed nations. We sub-contract to others the things we find
distracting or distasteful, or just too hard. We authorise others to look after
the poor, grow our vegetables, slaughter our meat, educate our children, make
our clothes, fix our taps. Why would it be any different when it comes to
government? Voting every now and then seems a small price to pay so that we can
get on with the real task of being relaxed and comfortable. But can real change
occur through such a means? Is there value in social action that is tangential
to, and even irrelevant to legislative government? These are some of the
questions I intend to address. As a doorway to these questions, let me take you
to Ringwood Magistrates Court in 2002.
I. Refusing to vote
The case preceding me was far
more interesting. Although we had committed the same crime (failure to vote) we
had entirely different approaches. For a start, our appearance. I’d taken the
time to iron some pants, shave and put on an inoffensive shirt. She was decked
out in colourful attire, and her wheelchair was struggling under the weight of
stickers proclaiming her allegiance to every possible cause. Then there was our
attitude to the court. I pleaded guilty as I had broken the law. She pleaded
‘no jurisdiction’, meaning the court had no authority to hear her case. When
pressed by the puzzled judge, she explained this land had been stolen from the
indigenous people, so she did not recognise the institutions of the invaders. A
faint ripple of giggles passed through the suits. So when my turn came, I think
the judge breathed a sigh of relief.
I have not voted in a federal
election or state election, though there have been at least 8 since I became
eligible. Why? Let me quote from the letter I send prior to the election:
1. Australia’s system of government claims to
be a “representative democracy”. That is, elected members of parliament
represent the interests and concerns of their constituents. However, to gain
and consolidate power, members of parliament must sacrifice the concerns of
their constituents for the sake of their party - hardly representative.
2.Because members of parliament rarely represent their constituents,
ordinary citizens have little meaningful participation in the political
process. Democracy means “government by the people, for the people”. Surely
that means more than a vote every three years.
3.At present our state and federal systems of government are too large:
·
True
democracy requires that citizens be involved in the political process in an
ongoing way. The size of our systems of government means they cannot take into
consideration the concerns and contributions of ordinary people.
·
State and
federal systems make decisions that affect huge numbers of their constituents.
This is not healthy democracy. Decisions made on this scale cannot consider the
complexities and nuances of a local community.
4.As a Christian, I believe that those who are poor, marginalised and
oppressed should be our priority. A system that is not representative,
participatory or sensitive to local communities will inevitably lose sight of
those who are on its margins. My beliefs compel me to reject such a system.
I came to these conclusions
through thinking about what Jesus’ had to say about change. To both Jesus and
Paul, law-making was a blunt instrument when it came to personal and social redemption.
In essence, a law is a coercive strategy, whether coming from the left or
right. It embodies a desire for a particular way of life, but insists that such
a way of life will only come about if everyone is forced to obey it. But surely
people don’t change their behaviour and their societies simply by force – there
are a whole host of reasons why people behave the way they do. For Jesus and
Paul, change came through the Spirit indwelling a person so fully that their
outward lives altered drastically. That person, as Ammon Hennacy put it so
succinctly, ‘does not need a cop to tell
him how to behave.’
But it’s never that simple. I
spent a few months in South Africa, and witnessed an event that made me rethink
my non-voting stance. We visited during an election campaign, which happened to
coincide with the tenth anniversary of democracy in South Africa. Lindilani, a
youth worker with street kids who was taking us around, was voting for the
first time. There had been rumours of violence, but our polling booth was
quiet. Kylie and I didn’t have permission to enter, but when we said we wanted
to see this momentous occasion, the electoral officials opened the door with
broad smiles! Lindilani was literally shaking with excitement as he filled in
his ballot form and stuck it in the ballot box. This meant something to him! It
was not simply casting his vote, it was a continuance of the struggle against apartheid,
a participation in an ongoing task of social transformation in which he was
intimately involved, and in which friends and members of his community had
suffered.
How then can I refuse to vote
when others take it so seriously? Is my refusal to vote a cheapening of the
sacrifices others have made to ensure democracy, both here and elsewhere? To
this I can only say two things. Firstly, my desire is that through refusing to
vote and participating in social change according to the model of Christ, I am
working for real democracy. Secondly, unlike South Africa, Australia has long
lost the sense of being involved in a struggle for the poor and suffering,
hence the vote has become a way of reassuring citizens that they have influence
over government, while in the meantime injustice continues.
II. Christianity and Social Change
Social change through legislation
is limited and coercive, and rarely changes things at a deep level.
Therefore, because legislative
politics is rarely about real change, Christian action for social change needs
to be tangential to legislative politics. Why?
- The Bible continually warns that power is like red
cordial. It has to be diluted to stop the children crazily running around
in circles. Legislative politics assumes that if given enough power it is
able to create a better world, but such power simply gives the agents of
legislation licence to ignore real needs and maintain their influence. In
1 Samuel 8, having tired of the corruption of the sons of Samuel, the
Israelites look the neighbouring nations for guidance rather than God.
They see a structure of power that is attractive despite the warnings
Samuel gives them: of militarism, theft, exploitation and slavery. Despite
living in a democracy, power still corrupts and leads to these same
things. We need to be careful about our relationship to power.
- Jesus never sought political office or tried to
implement his vision through law-making. Granted, he did not live in a
democracy, but he could have become a scribe or Pharisee. That he chose
not to shows that his vision encompassed, and encompasses, so much more
than laws can achieve. When he said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this
world” he did not mean that his kingdom was somehow separated from the
world or not concerned with the world. Rather, the kingdom of God is different to the kingdoms of this
world. It has a larger vision than gaining power. We also need to have a larger vision
than legislative alterations.
Christian social change will need
to deal with the laws of the land, but we should not be using the laws of the
land as our main strategy. They are not conducive to our ends (being coercive
in nature) and the economic order that legislative politics upholds is frankly
antagonistic to a Christian view of the poor. So if legislative politics is
tangential to Christian social change, what means should we use to work towards
a society that is Christ-like? I’m now going to draw upon the thinking of
Jonothan Cornford, a Melbourne writer and thinker. In his tract ‘…longing for a better country’[2],
Cornford outlines three essential tasks for the church to engage in:
1. Seeking Holiness: as Cornford
acknowledges, “Holiness is a word that has been debased by generations of
self-righteous moralism and superficial piety”, and scarcely the first thought of
any aspiring Christian activist. Holiness, however, is the condition of being
whole, of the spiritual and material being woven together indistinguishably in
a life that honours God in every dimension and aspect. Such a life will of
course be a threat to the current system which we call home. Cornford points to
Revelation 18, in which the church is called to ‘flee Babylon’, and concludes
“…that holiness means difference” in
terms of the whole human experience – work, money, consumption, time,
recreation, family, community. For Christian social change to be at all
faithful, we need to be living a way of life that is markedly different from
the surrounding culture.
2. Building the Church: Cornford sees Paul’s language of the Church as
‘Body’ as expressing the fact that the Church is “…the continuing incarnation
of God’s presence with humanity”. The very life of the Church communicates a
political message to the world, and we need to make sure this message is one of
holiness, of difference. Confirming what I have claimed about Christian social
change being tangential to legislative politics, Cornford writes:
Christians cannot expect the government to
lead us to a better country; it is our role to begin the new society now, in
the midst of the old. That is what the church is…
That is, we can no
longer allow others to act as proxies for us. We need to, as it were, take the
law into our own hands.
3. Making Disciples: If the church is
seeking holiness and building itself up into a community of difference, it
becomes a witness to the good news. By ‘good news’, Cornford is careful to
emphasise that the good news concerns both body and soul, ‘that human life can
be restored to the wholeness…for which it was originally intended.’ Cornford
sees the need for evangelism as related to the demands, insecurities and
hardships of embodying a way of life that is different:
…if we are being asked to step away from all
that we have been taught about success, security and happiness, we need to be
able to entrust our lives to something else…We need to know there is a God who
guarantees our wellbeing through such a momentous journey.
What encourages me about this
trinity of political formation is that so many missionary organisations and
churches are already doing it! What needs to change is how they do these things
and on what issues. The above three tasks can be taken narrowly and
self-righteously, but they can also be practiced honestly and authentically.
The church needs to start evangelising on political issues of all types, it
needs to start making political formation a dimension of discipleship and it
needs to become different in more ways than refusing to swear or wearing a WWJD
bracelet.
III. Concluding Remarks
Would I ever choose to vote
again? Perhaps. I must admit that Howard’s continuous deception, arrogance and
abuse of the powerless has made me think over my decision. Refusing to vote is
not a good in itself, but a means by which I can publicly remind myself and
others that political responsibility means more than voting. Let me be honest
here – I don’t think that refusing to vote is going to change much. But neither
do I believe that simply voting will do so. Refusing to vote is a way of
explaining to myself, others and my nation that it will take more than a vote
to solve the problems we face. It is an attempt to show that our vote is being
used as a way of reassuring us that we have done our political duty, and that
we can trust the political experts to take things in hand on our behalf, a
trust that is so regularly abused without public outrage that you have to
wonder where the famous Australian intolerance of authority figures has escaped
to.
Christian social change involves
much more than Christians attaining positions of political influence and voting
every few years. Christian political responsibility involves a broader
embodiment of God’s kingdom, a kingdom that will never be established by
violence, law or coercion. It will only be established as together, we take
personal responsibility for living a life that points to the God of love and
justice that we find in Jesus.
Dave Fagg is a member of Seeds Bendigo, where he lives with
his wife Kylie, and serves in a public housing commission. He can be contacted by email - seedsbendigo@optusnet.com.au
[1]
Burrowes, R.J. Vote Refusal, in Nonviolence Today, No. 13,
Feb/March 1990.
[2]
Cornford, J (2006) ‘…longing for a better
country’: Christianity & the Vocation of Social Change. Copies can be
obtained from the author – email Dave Fagg for details.