Compulsory Voting

Standing at a polling booth this week and handing out ‘how to vote’ cards, reminded me once again of how fortunate we are to live in a peaceful democracy in which the people are ultimately sovereign.

There was a steady stream of voters during the week at pre-polling booths, casting their decision on the ‘Voice’ referendum.

At the booth I attended, they were polite and courteous. Some accepted both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ brochures, some one or the other, and many neither. As many said, it is a straight-forward decision: you are either for or against the proposed constitutional amendment!

I wondered why ‘how to vote’ cards were even necessary: the overwhelming majority of people appeared to have made up their mind. It wasn’t like an election, where candidates and parties wish to influence not only a person’s first vote, but also the important preferences.

Having been a candidate at 11 elections over three decades, I have witnessed the peaceful conduct of elections many times. The fact that it is compulsory to attend to vote, even if a person casts an informal ballot, ensures a large measure of certainty about the result and widespread acceptance of the outcome as legitimate. This stands in stark contrast to many nations where the results are contested – even in the United State of America.

There are many countries that do not accord their people a real vote. Perhaps the most egregious are the totalitarian states like China that pretend to be a democracy. Yet the Chinese people have never voted to elect their leaders under the rule of the communist party. Instead, the CCP Central Committee determines who leads the country. And the leader, in turn, determines the membership of the committee.

As a former senior Chinese diplomat told Kay Rubacek for her book, Who are China’s Walking Dead? “In China, everything is tightly controlled. They only allow one point of view, one perspective, one belief. Everyone must follow that. No one is allowed to think outside the box.”

A recent event reinforced this observation.

A new draft law proposes to criminalise a wide range of behaviours, including dress of speech “detrimental to the spirit of the Chinese people and hurt the feelings of the Chinese people.”

The draft has been composed by the standing committee of the legislature and listed for passage this year. The penalties for violating the law include 15 days in detention or a fine of 5,000 yuan ($AUD 1088).

The vague law would allow the regime to prosecute whomever they considered in breach.

Even before the law, the authorities have penalised people for the clothing they wear. A woman was detained in Suxhou for wearing a traditional Japanese kimono. She was accused of “picking quarrels and provoking trouble” under another vague Chinese law.

T-shirts with LGBTI+ symbols have been banned, as have black t-shirts in Hong Kong. The plain black shirts were worn by pro-democracy protestors.

It is not too difficult to imagine the range of other clothing that will fall foul of the Chinese censors: items depicting anything American, religious symbols, and fashion depicting support for the Uighurs or Tibet readily come to mind. Caricatures of Xi Jinping have already been removed.

In a rare case of public criticism of the regime, both social media users and some academics have questioned the proposal.

A law professor at the Chinese University of Political Science, Zhao Hong, wrote: “What if the law enforcer, usually a police officer, has a personal interpretation of the hurt and initiates moral judgment of others beyond the scope of the law.”

Not only is the regime attempting to crack down on any expression of opinion contrary the official stance, it remains highly paranoid about any alternative view or interpretation.

A laughable example occurred last week.

A photograph of two Chinese female athletes joyfully hugging each other after the Asian Games women’s 100 metres hurdles final was censored after appearing in the domestic media.

The offence? Hugging? No, it was apparently because the photo depicted their lane numbers, 6 and 4, next to each other.

Most western observers would still be perplexed. To the Chinese censors, the numbers 6 and 4 together, are seen as a reference to the Tiananmen Square massacre, which occurred on June 4, 1989. 6/4 is a common reference to the event at which, according to various reports, thousands of protestors were killed.

Weibo accounts had the number greyed out.

Not only is voting in an election - or in a referendum - alien to the people of China, any expression of an opinion contrary to the regime is forbidden.

Some Australians might criticise the requirement that they cast a vote on the ‘Voice’ or other issues.

It is a precious aspect of democracy that we should continue to treasure.

First published in the Epoch Times.

Previous
Previous

The release of Cheng Lei

Next
Next

Is Dan Gone