As a result, I have often found myself involved in debates about whether the risk of Paul Ryan in the White House is great enough to vote for the Democratic party despite my misgivings. The lesser evil must be supported in order to avoid the catastrophe that would befall us otherwise, I’m told. Most of my avowed Communist friends scoff at the notion, preaching militance and defiance of any and all corporate money. But I find myself unable to follow them with such vigor because, quite simply, I would much rather have Obama in the White House that Mitt Romney. Even if Obama strengthens capitalism and furthers the interests of the upper classes against the lower, he will, most assuredly, push for more programs that will lessen the pain of the recession for those who need it than Romney ever will. Though his motives may be questionable and the effect Obamacare will have on history may worsen the position of the lower classes in the long run--as the New Deal did, according to Howard Zinn--that relief is an unquestionable good now.
But somehow my ambivalence seems impossible to many. Either I accept Obama or I don’t. That is, I vote for him or I don’t. The name on the ballot I submit is the singular measure of my political allegiance. The debate over lesser-evilism assumes, unequivocally, that the act of voting is political action and the only political action. I’ve heard too many people claim to oppose the two-party system to believe that many take it to be the best form of democracy. And yet those same people so often tell me that I have to vote Obama. And against them, those people who oppose any form of lesser evil-ism, tell me I have to vote for a third party candidate or else I’m accepting the two party system in its entirety.
Both sides are assuming that the only mode of political participation is the vote. Especially ironic given the far left’s love of labor and the obvious fact of Occupy Wall Street referring to a long history of political activism that eschews the ballot box, this insistence--even when it demands an end of the two party system--forces a binary choice. You vote yes or no. Those are your options.
More to the point, what is this assumption but the obverse of the platitude that it is one’s duty to vote? We’ve fetishized the vote into the glorious revolution that happens every four years, proving that America is the greatest nation on earth. But as fundamental as voting is to democracy, democracy cannot subsist on the ballot box alone. And while this has become something of a platitude itself--I’m positive there will be articles published around election day imploring citizens to write to their Congressman and participate in local governments--too few people recognize the manifestations of the problem.
It should not be difficult to explain that I find Obama both incredibly disappointing and potentially worthy of my vote. It should not be confusing that my political opinions are often nuanced, my support tenuous. But it is, and it is precisely because it is blasphemy to hope Obama wins reelection while not voting for him myself. The right to vote carries with it the choice to vote, and that choice must remain in tact. Not voting is a political stance if it is done with knowledge of the issues, with commitment to other forms of political action. To remove that possibility is to remove important methods of action.
If we are to actually alter the collusion of power that exists in the two party system, to increase the political capacities of the American people, to admit the kinds of complex views that allow for actual progress, we must start caring about political participation, not just the vote. We must recognize that the two are not synonymous, and that the unspoken assumption that they are is influencing the national discussion in undiscussed ways. Who I cast my vote for is only a part of my political stance, not all of it, nor even necessarily its most important part.
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