The Idiot’s Guide to Democracy by Pedro F Marcelino
Democracy as a concept is far from perfect. As a practice, it is flawed, to say the least. The system is often twisted even in mature democracies such as the United States' (Bush vs. Gore), Italy's (Berlusconi’s direct or indirect ownership or control of 85% of all Italian media as well as other irregularities) or Germany's (with vote results forcing a negotiated Government). In Africa, of late, very few countries endorsed democracy permanently. Kenya often slides down the slope, and so does Mozambique, Angola or Egypt. Cape Verde and The Seychelles have for long been pointed as beacons of democracy in the continent – and what beacons they are, the geographic positions of both making them more similar to lighthouses for democratic endeavours, one on the Atlantic, one on the Indian coast.
Cape Verde has gathered the trust of the international community over the last 15 years, so much so that it has repeatedly been lauded for the almost inexistent corruption in the use of foreign aid monies. In February 12th's Presidential election, as in many others, foreign observers were absent, based on that trust. Yet, as in many other “mature” democracies, situations occurred that were therefore muted.
Independent since 1975, the Republic of Cape Verde was luckier than most young nations in continental Africa. There was no colonial war, no rebellion, and all opposition to the regime in the national territory was peaceful. However, many Capeverdean independence supporters joined the Amilcar Cabral-founded PAIGC (African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde), and played active roles in the wars of the time. Military training in Cuba or in the depths of Africa, guerrilla war in Bissau - Commander Pedro Pires was among them. One year after the Red Carnation Revolution in Portugal, Cape Verde was finally independent. Behind the stage, the split between Guinea-Bissau and the islands was masterfully albeit traumatically orchestrated, and PAIGC eventually became a strictly national entity (PAICV), one that was to rule in a single-party regime for almost 16 years. In 1991, with Pedro Pires in power, and despite his claims that the people were not ready for a democratic change, a coalition of small parties, led by Carlos Veiga’s MpD forced an election. On January 13th, 1991, the Second Republic gave the first steps. It is reminded as one of the grandest days in this young republic's history.
Little after, a new flag for a modern country would be created, along with a new national anthem and a new shield of arms, leaving behind the country’s Marxist-Leninist post-independence past. Despite Chinese and Cuban tacit support, PAICV’s days as sole ruler were over.
With Mr. Veiga’s election for Prime Minister, and later with President António Mascarenhas Monteiro, Cape Verde progressed rapidly and leaped to the forefront of Africa, gathering respect and an aura of stability rare this close to the tropics. Ever more capital transfers were made by its overseas community, and investment in the tourism sector as well as direct foreign aid were attracted. In just 15 years, the country’s economy changed deeply.
In 2001, Carlos Alberto Wahnon de Carvalho Veiga, born in the country's second city of Mindelo, ran for President against the independence-veteran and former single-party regime leader Pedro Pires. Amidst loud claims of electoral fraud, PAICV re-gained power, after Onésimo Silveira’s withdrawal in its favour. The army and police forces were divided, and civil unrest was feared for a few days. Mr. Veiga nowadays claims, somewhat exaggerating, that he alone chose to spare the country a civil war, by accepting fraudulent results.
On January 22nd 2006, PAICV’s Government was confirmed, and the long expected heavy-weight Presidential campaign started. Mr. Pires’ campaign was one of confrontation and aggressive speech from both him and his representatives. Supporters scouted the streets flying First Republic flags (Marxist, implying a union with war-ravaged Guinea), and several claims of incitement to violence were filed. The Supreme Court received complaints of fraud in the legislatives, while the recently elected PM campaigned alongside Mr. Pires.
Whereas Mr. Pires safely stood on his party's grounds, Mr. Veiga claimed to be above any party divide. According to the Constitution that Veiga had helped approve himself (against PAICV’s wishes, whose deputies abandoned Parliament), the President should act as a referee and should dialogue with the whole of civil society. Whereas Mr. Pires’ motto was “vote for PAICV, for a stable governance”, Mr. Veiga concentrated on explaining why his candidature was the right one. Whereas Mr. Pires refused any debates on radio or TV, Mr. Veiga continuously requested them. Whereas Mr. Pires cashed on masses of people with little education and civic formation to gather many of his votes, Mr. Veiga’s mistake seems to have been treating them as grown-up voters. Or was it...?
On the night of the election, claims of irregularities with votes were heard. The electoral system key had been stolen in 2001, remaining adrift in the country or abroad. All the informatics corrections to date were insufficient to curb possible hacking attacks. In Mindelo, as in the capital city, Praia, special intervention forces were deployed to prevent any clashes as a consequence of the heated atmosphere. MpD’s HQ was surrounded by close-faced officers. Very closely, down the street, at PAICV’s HQ, another police barrier prevented supporters from mixing. The National Elections Commission claimed the ballot had been transparent, albeit several misdemeanours.
On TCV, sole national TV network (not so much public, rather a State channel), the special broadcast presented three pro-PAICV and one pro-MpD commentators. The moderator seemed somewhat biased, to say the least. One and a half hour before the vote was closed in the circle of the Americas (mostly Brazil, Canada and US), TCV infracted the law, by showing the first temporary results. With 60% of all votes counted, Mr. Veiga was ahead at 50.49% against 49.30%, in what seemed a perfect plot for a turnover. Later, with 90% of the votes disclosed, she smilingly announced that Mr. Pires was now ahead with 50.38% of the votes. Mr. Veiga’s results were repeatedly not revealed. Meanwhile, police protection to MpD’s HQ mysteriously disappeared around 10 pm, when the vote was closed in Boston and Toronto. TCV interrupted the special at that point, only to return 49 minutes later, with final results that gave a clear victory to Mr. Pires. According to the temporary results, Veiga had won among half-million inhabitants of the islands (with little more than 50%), but lost among 1-million Capeverdeans abroad (in a proportion of 61.5% to 34.9%), even if the abstention rate nationally was only 46% against 67% abroad.
With the results seemingly decided (Mr. Pires’ 50.8% vs. Mr. Veiga’s 49.2%), MpD supporters returned home, leaving the streets to the celebrating crowds in yellow. On TV, the moderator asks for final comments. The lonely pro-MpD commentator is scarce in words, followed by three buoyant PAICV supporters. Not able to hide her enthusiasm with the results, the moderator points out that history repeats itself, and requests comments to both the 2001 and 2006 votes. In 2001, she says, Carlos Veiga lost with 50.7% of the vote, while Pedro Pires won with 49.3%. She is baffled and confused for two seconds. Then, she says, “no, it cannot be, the computer must be wrong.” After having been Prime Minister for 15 years, much of which in a single-party regime, Mr. Pires has presided to the country’s destinies for the past five years, so he must have won, you would think – actually, so says history, in 2001 he indeed won by only 12 votes, hardly an acceptable margin elsewhere. All of a sudden, MpD’s claims of fraud seem consequent. Could the wrong result announced by TCV’s moderator actually not be “wrong”?
The country woke up in peace, though, and once again, PAICV rules over all the branches of political power, offering the people plenty of music in the streets. It could happen in any democracy. It happened in the United States of America. But in any normal democracy, however, a reasonable doubt would remain as to why are all the electoral results so close. And why are they always turned around at the last moment. In a regular democracy, when claims that thousands of votes were irregular are made, and the winner has only 12 extra votes, the ballot would be repeated. It may well be that nothing irregular happened this time – yet, so goes the saying, where there is smoke, there is (usually) fire.
Borrowing from Bill Clinton’s campaign: this is democracy for you, stupid – African style, that is.
This text is also available in Portuguese here (Manual de Democracia Simplificada)
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