When a seat becomes a goal: Who serves the country and who rises on people’s shoulders?

Writer: Dr. My profit is a state

These days, with the Palestinian legislative elections approaching, the electoral scene seems to be regaining some of the features of previous electoral stations. Names are moving, communications are taking place, lists are being formed, others are still searching for their final form, national factions are putting the final touches on their choices, and independents are consulting about the possibility of running the experiment, while the street awaits what the picture of the upcoming elections will turn out to be.

It is natural for us to feel some optimism when we see this demand for public participation. For a person to think about offering himself to serve his country, its people, and its cause, and to see in himself the ability and desire to bear responsibility, is something worthy of appreciation. Public work is not originally a luxury, and politics is not just positions, but rather a responsibility and obligation, especially in the harsh and exceptional circumstances that our people live in, where citizens face accumulated daily burdens, and expect those who will carry their voice to be close to their real concerns, and to feel what people are experiencing before speaking on their behalf.

However, amid all this movement, there remains a simple and important question that deserves to be asked by everyone who is thinking about running for office before people ask it to him: Why do I want to run?

The question may seem straightforward, and some may find it harsh, but it is actually necessary. There is a distance between the desire to serve people and the desire to reach a certain position that may not always be clear. The matter may begin with good intentions, then family accounts, money, relationships, social status, and political affiliation become intertwined, until reaching the site becomes the goal, and service turns into a phrase that accompanies the way.

This does not mean questioning anyone’s intentions, and it is not correct to assume bad faith in everyone who runs, as many may have sincere motives and a genuine desire to provide something for their country. But good intentions alone do not make a representative capable of taking responsibility for legislation, oversight, and representing the people. The public position requires knowledge, experience, and the ability to dialogue and make decisions, and above all, it requires a real understanding of what it means for a person to become entrusted with people’s voices and interests.

We experienced local elections months ago, and it was a rich experience in terms of competition, lists, alliances, and different accounts. We saw how families moved, how political and social considerations were present, and how multiple factors entered into the details of the scene. Then Election Day ended, and all of the above became part of the past, and the winners remained before the people and their demands, questions, and expectations.

Here lie the most important lessons that we should not ignore as we prepare for the legislative elections. The elections end, but responsibility begins after them. The photo taken in the campaign does not last, the speech said at a festival is not enough to run an institution, and the promise made in front of people becomes, after victory, a commitment that the citizen expects to see its impact in his life.

Today, as we face the legislative elections, some features of the scene appear familiar. Names we know from local councils, names linked to their families or social positions, and others based on organizational presence. There are those who have money and the ability to spend, and there are those who believe that their name or relationships are enough to open the way for them.

All of this is part of reality, and cannot be ignored, but the question that should govern the choice is: What can this person do if he arrives?

The Legislative Council is not a council for social relations, nor an extension of a family council, nor a site for boasting. Whoever reaches it will be faced with laws, legislation, oversight, public policies, and issues that affect people’s lives and their future. He will sit with people with whom he differs in opinion, policy, and vision, and he will be required to know when to disagree, how to disagree, and when to put the public interest above private accounts.

Here, it is not enough for the candidate to be well-known, popular, or have a presence. What is required is to be able.

Money may help its owner in an election campaign, but it does not necessarily give him the ability to legislate. The family may give its owner a number of votes, but it does not give him experience. Political organization may open the door to candidacy, but it does not exempt him from being qualified for the position he seeks.

There is nothing in having money or belonging to a family or political organization that detracts from anyone, as these are natural components of our society, but the problem begins when these factors become a substitute for competence, and when the candidate believes that having one of them gives him an automatic right to represent the people.

No one has this right alone.

The right is granted by the voter.

The voter also faces a responsibility no less than the responsibility of the candidate. Just as the candidate must respect himself and his abilities, the citizen must respect his voice. He does not grant it to anyone who buys his consent, nor to anyone who exploits his need, nor to anyone who hides behind the family name or organization, nor to anyone who makes promises that everyone knows he cannot fulfill.

Elections are not a season for exchanging favors, nor an opportunity to return favors, nor an occasion to restore social respect. It is a moment in which the citizen decides who he sees capable of representing him, and who he believes can carry his voice to the place it needs to reach.

The most dangerous thing that can happen is that the citizen becomes a means in the hands of those who want to reach the site, and then finds himself in front of a representative who no longer remembers the promises he made, nor the people who carried him to his place.

The citizen is not a ladder for anyone to climb, his voice does not belong to anyone, and his trust is neither a family inheritance nor an acquired right for an organization or person. It is a trust that he grants to whomever he sees capable of carrying it.

When we look at the experience of the recent local elections, and then follow the ongoing preparations for the legislative elections, the similarity in some aspects and standards forces us to pause for a moment. If money, family, and organization remain the basic keys to competition, and if the order of the name on the list becomes more important than the program, and if the question becomes who can secure the votes instead of who can serve, then we will have moved away from the essence of the elections, even if the process is completed in all its legal forms.

Democracy is not just about going to the ballot box, but about knowing to whom we give our votes, and why we give them.

Hence the responsibility of the candidate comes before anyone else. Whoever is thinking about running in the elections should sit down with himself, away from niceties and pressure, and ask: Do I have the knowledge that this site needs? Can I take responsibility? Do I have something to offer people? Can I accept cash? Can I represent those who disagree with me as well as those who support me? Do I really want to serve people, or do I want to be where others see evidence of success and status?

If the answer is honest, then the person should come forward with confidence, put himself before the people without fear, and let the voter have the right to judge him.

But if he discovers that the position is beyond his capabilities, then withdrawing is not a shame, and apologizing for running is not a defeat. Sometimes a person has more respect for himself and other people when he says: I am not the right person for this site.

The nation does not need a greater number of website owners as much as it needs responsible people.

This responsibility also falls on the political factions and forces that choose their lists. The organizational name should not be a certificate of competence, and the list is not just a group of people united by the desire to win. The real list should include people with experience, ability, and vision, and be able to present a clear program to the people, and put the public interest before calculations related to locations and rankings.

Independents also face the same exam. Independence is not just a characteristic written next to a name, but rather an attitude and responsibility, and the ability to make decisions away from pressure and special interests, and to present oneself to people on the basis of what the candidate can offer, not only on the basis that he is different from others.

Eventually, polling day will come. The meetings will end, the campaigns will calm down, the boxes will be closed, and the results will be in. Then the candidate will have no justification other than what he can offer to the people.

Words will turn into action, promises into commitments, and the name that was at the top of the list will become a person required to prove that he was worthy of the trust of those who gave him their votes.

Only here does the difference emerge between those who entered the elections in search of a position, and those who entered them in search of responsibility.

We need elections in which a person is not ashamed to run, and in which he is not ashamed to withdraw if he realizes that someone else is more capable than him. We need a voter who does not sell his vote, a candidate who does not sell people an illusion, lists that do not make names a goal, and organizations that do not treat positions as rewards.

A country is bigger than a seat, an issue is bigger than a list, and a citizen is bigger than a voice that is co-opted for a moment and then forgotten for years.

Whoever seeks people’s trust must begin by respecting them, whoever seeks to represent them must begin by respecting himself and his abilities, and whoever wants to enter public life must know that position is not a privilege he obtains, but rather a trust for which he is held accountable.

Perhaps the most beautiful thing that every candidate can do before putting his name on a list is to distance himself a little from the noise of the elections, and to ask himself a question that does not tolerate politeness: Am I going to the elections because I want to serve, or because I want to arrive?

As for the citizen, he must ask the same question in another way: Do I give my vote to those who can serve me and my country, or only to those who know how to reach me during election season?

Between the two questions, the value of these elections is determined.

Seats will change, names will change, lists will come and go, and elections will end, but the country will remain, and the citizen will remain, and what we need in the end is not someone who succeeds in reaching the seat, but rather someone who succeeds after arriving in being worthy of it.

0 Palestinian writer and politician