I knew this year’s elections would be different from all the others that we’ve had, but I didn’t want to make expectations. Elections in this country are like some exotic cultural rituals—festive and intoxicating events that teeter on the edge of total chaos. How we find a method to the madness—and survive—is a source of constant astonishment.
But at the very least, I hoped that the lingering shadow of the pandemic would somehow be a moderating factor. Surely, it won’t be as much of a circus this time around?
One marked difference hit me while I was walking to the polling center. It was eerily quiet. In previous elections, people tuned in to their TV sets for information, and one could overhear the live reporting blaring from TV sets across neighborhoods. Broadcast journalists set the energy and tone and their voices hovered in the air like guiding systems. Traditional media made elections a communal event. Today, every person was engrossed in his or her own cellphone seemingly unmindful of everyone else.
Social media accounts
On my way to vote, I got updates from well-meaning people who flooded social media with all kinds of dire warnings about the long lines, advice on how to survive the heat, and tips on how to manage worst-case scenarios. The problem with getting information from social media is that you have as many versions of an incident as there are people posting and reposting the story. Facebook was already agog over malfunctioning counting machines and the legality of asking voters to write authorization letters that will allow the people manning the precincts to feed that votes into the machines.
There were pictures of alleged vote-buying somewhere in the North. Teachers in some schools in the south were allegedly shading ballots for voters to avoid “overshading” or “invalidating” ballots. As can be expected, everyone had an opinion, a conspiracy theory, or a threat to make. The lack of accountability enables people to pass off rumors as news, and opinions as facts.
But people were not indulging in exaggeration when they warned about the long lines. The line to get inside the gates of Rafael Palma Elementary School meandered through two blocks, under the heat of the summer sun. Uniformed cops made sure people followed health protocols and observed social distancing. Why they bothered was incomprehensible because it was sheer bedlam inside the school where it was every man for himself.
Health protocol?
Nobody enforced any kind of health protocol. People huddled in hallways and staircases and everyone had to physically squeeze through veritable mosh pits to get anywhere. Many people were not even wearing masks correctly. We were literally breathing the same air. I am sure that the people in charge had some plans in place. They just once again, as in the past, forgot about execution. Once again, they forgot that people need to be led.
As I inched my way through the thick, heaving crowd to get to my assigned classroom, I couldn’t help but wonder when Filipinos would ever learn to look out for each other and behave with discipline and mutual respect, and concern. The people in the hallways were not giving way to each other, and many were clearly done voting, they were just there to wait for family members or just didn’t know where to do it, or what else to do.
I entered my voting precinct. The teachers inside were courteous, competent, and very professional. They made me feel that my vote was truly sacred. A sense of mutual respect was palpable inside, which was a far cry from the bedlam in the hallways. I noted the deferential behaviors of the people and wondered why they seemed to be completely different compared to how they were just a couple of minutes ago. It struck me—the teachers behaved with integrity, sincerity, and were clearly capable, and therefore inspired the right behaviors from everyone else.
This is our main problem as a people—we do not have leaders who lead with integrity and competence. And the irony is that this is what elections are supposed to cure.
Bong Austero is a thought leader in people management. He is a senior executive of a management consulting firm. He was National President of PMAP in 2011 and used to write a weekly column for the op-ed pages of a national daily. He continues to teach, write, and challenge himself. —ED
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