Opinion

To the health of the party of the majority

Three years ago, still not having reached the age of political maturity, I was deluded by what I would hear about transparency, fairness, free elections and pluralism. I willingly decided to run for election to the Shura Council as an independent, and prepared my advertising and media campaigns. I wandered the neighborhoods of Imbaba and met with professors, sheikhs, workers and farmers, becoming in the process more popular than I had aspired to be. To be honest, the governmental, party-affiliated and independent newspapers as well as various television channels set aside considerable print space and airtime for me since I was the first blind person to nominate himself as a candidate for the Shura Council. Overly optimistic, I told myself, “God does not neglect to reward good deeds,” but never did I think that the National Democratic Party would be the one who would deny me the reward for my good deeds. The party began to reveal its true face via trickery and deception.
A mere two days before the elections my campaign signs were ripped down, despite the fact that the neighborhood had approved their posting. When I went to the police department to obtain authorization forms to give to my representative in the electoral commission, the officer told me with the utmost politeness, “Wait a bit, or leave me your number and I will call you when you can receive the forms.” I sensed from the tone of his voice a strong sense of embarrassment, as if he was forced to tell me such things, or that he was not pleased with what he was doing. Of course, he did not call, and of course, I could not stand waiting, so I returned to the police station hoping to obtain the forms. The same officer told me the same thing.
My wife was with me that bitter day, having witnessed what happened to me. She became angry, then enraged and finally burst into tears, saying, “God is sufficient for us and most excellent is the Protector.” Worried that she would completely break down, I tried to placate her, despite feeling as if I was being ripped to shreds inside. Attempting to overcome my despair and hopelessness, my wife and I agreed to try the land registry office as an alternative to the police station, based on the recommendation of a friend. Indeed, I was able to obtain the forms at a cost of LE30 each, despite the fact that they would have not cost me a cent at the police station. That evening I learned by coincidence that the police department was going to distribute the forms the electoral candidates. Believing what I heard, and still needing to acquire more forms, I headed to the station.
I was surprised when I arrived by a long line of candidates waiting for the forms. The sight gladdened me and I bounded up the stairs to see the officer, only to hear him say apologetically, “Doctor, come and get the forms tomorrow morning.” I interrupted him excitedly saying, “But there is a long line for these forms downstairs.” He became silent and did not respond. When I left his office and descended the stairs, I learned that the line was only for NDP candidates. I returned to my house and found myself unable to sleep. I went to the station at seven in the morning in a last ditch effort to secure the required forms, failing as usual. I began to lose hope, certain that I had entered a battle in which I was being exploited in order to give the elections a democratic décor. When the doors opened on election day, I began to receive calls from my volunteers in which they expressed their frustration over being denied entrance to the electoral councils by the security forces that were present, which rejected the forms obtained from the land registry office. Even those who were able to enter the polling stations called and complained about instances of election fraud at a certain station. I rushed to the station, and on the way, I received a telephone call from another station, complaining of election fraud there. I altered my route and set off for the latter polling station, continuing until my thoughts paralyzed me. Where could I go, and how was I going to confront the allegations of fraud? Matters got worse when I received a call from my two blind brothers, who along with my mother had gone to vote, only to discover a crowd of hired thugs barring them from entering the polling station.
After an argument, the thugs forced my brothers into their car. My brothers had no choice but to seek my help.
My blood boiled. I gathered my courage and rushed to the polling station with an announcer from Voice of the Arabs and a journalist from the Associated Press in order to expose the incident. Upon arriving at the entrance to the station, I was met by a group of people whose presence resembled that of the most frightening horror films. I tried to be brave in spite of the fear that gripped me, demanding that they open the door. One of the thugs shoved me and yelled, “God willing it will open!” I tried again, demanding that he let me in, declaring, “I want to vote.” He interrupted me, saying, “Listen, we ourselves voted for you, but there is a pregnant woman inside. Would it make you happy to barge in while she’s giving birth?” I told him that of course it would not and decided to leave. I was suddenly shocked to hear my journalist companion screaming and demanding that the thugs let go of her hands and clothes, and return her camera. I understood that she had been arrested while attempting to photograph the scene.
Her screams were gradually drowned out by the sound of the heavy blows she was receiving. It was then that the second journalist plucked me from the group of thugs and asked, “Can you run?” He then ordered me to do so. I ran like lightning, God help me. To this day, I know nothing of the fate of the woman. I returned home, turned off my mobile phone, and decided to sleep in order to escape the day’s hardships.
I recall the events of that day as I follow the preparations for the upcoming Shura Council elections and when I read Safwat el-Sherif’s remarks about the president’s call for fair, transparent, and free elections. While such goals are admirable, I don’t know how they will be achieved, especially since the electoral battlefield is dominated completely by the National Democratic Party, and its candidates who merely raise dust and blind us to what is really taking place.
Who will guarantee that the upcoming Shura Council elections will not butcher democracy? Of course, we all know the answer.
To the health of the party of the majority.
Translated from the Arabic Edition.
 

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