Editorial
Voting is often glorified as the ultimate expression of our democratic power, the bedrock of our society. We are repeatedly told that each ballot cast is a solemn duty, that it is the most effective way we can shape the future of our nation. But what if this is a lie? What if our votes are nothing more than a mechanism for perpetuating the very system we claim to despise? What if, in the end, our votes only serve to further entrench corruption, inequality, and stagnation, rather than bring the change we so desperately need?
As the next election looms, we are bombarded with the same tired rhetoric. “Vote for the educated and the influential,” they tell us. “Vote for the honest youth, the future of the nation,” they urge. Others scream that if we elect inexperienced individuals, we will destroy the country once again. Then there are those who, with alarming candour, openly proclaim their lack of experience, claiming their ignorance is their strength. The JVP, with its self-proclaimed “compasses,” implores us to place our faith in their untested hands, promising that they have the qualifications the others lack. These are the choices before us, each claiming to be the solution, yet none acknowledging the fundamental flaw at the heart of the system.
The brutal truth is that it does not matter who we vote for, because no one is free from the stain of the system. We are told that finding an honest person to vote for is a difficult task — more difficult, in fact, than finding a turtle with an ear looking at the sky. And why? Because the very act of seeking power within a corrupt system taints every candidate, from the so-called seasoned politicians to the “youthful reformers.” It is a cruel irony that we are expected to choose between the lesser of evils, when all we are really doing is perpetuating the very evils we claim to oppose. The search for an “honest” politician is a fool’s errand — a distraction designed to placate our frustrations and to stop us from confronting the deeper rot that runs through every facet of this society.
But even if, by some miracle, an honest candidate were to emerge, what would they be able to do? The moment they step into the arena, they are swallowed by the machine, their integrity slowly eroded by the same forces they sought to fight. And if we do not admit this fact — if we continue to cling to the illusion that education, honesty, or experience will somehow save us — then we are only fooling ourselves. We must face the uncomfortable truth: the problem is not the individuals, but the system itself. The very framework in which our democracy operates is inherently flawed, and no amount of reshuffling its players will ever change that.
It is not enough to ask about the education, honesty, or experience of the candidates; the real question is: what is their vision for the nation? What is their plan for the rural economy, education, healthcare, transport, and housing?
So, let us set aside the question of who to vote for and ask a far more uncomfortable one: why do we even vote? After 93 years of universal suffrage, have we finally come to understand the profound responsibility that comes with casting a ballot? Elections are not just a popularity contest; they are a chance to direct the future of the nation. Yet, we continue to approach elections as if they were mere acts of personal preference, choosing candidates based on their ability to represent our narrow interests, without ever considering the larger picture — the collective future of the country.
It is not enough to ask about the education, honesty, or experience of the candidates; the real question is: what is their vision for the nation? What is their plan for the rural economy, education, healthcare, transport, and housing? Where is their National Development Plan? These are the questions that should dominate our consideration — but they are rarely, if ever, addressed. Instead, we are distracted by personality politics, by campaigns that promise vague, feel-good ideals without any concrete substance behind them. This is the tragedy of our political system: we have become so conditioned to ask the wrong questions that we no longer recognise the importance of the right ones.
And so, we continue to vote for the same tired parties and the same empty promises, only to be disappointed once again. The trains remain overcrowded, the schools remain underfunded, the healthcare system continues to decay. Meanwhile, the promises of prosperity and reform remain just that — promises. We protest, we demand better services, we take to the streets to picket for higher salaries, for better conditions, for concessions — but no one listens. Why? Because we have failed to engage with the most fundamental question: what is the role of the state, and how do we hold it accountable?
This brings us to the most inconvenient truth of all: voting does not end our responsibility as citizens. Too often, we mistakenly believe that casting a ballot is enough, that it absolves us of any further obligation. But this is a fallacy. Our duty does not end once we’ve made our choice; it is only the beginning. After the election is over, we must remain vigilant, demanding accountability from both the government and the opposition. We must ensure that they fulfil their social responsibilities, that they work towards the development of the nation, not merely for their own gain. To fail in this is to abandon the future of our country.
The reality is that our votes, as they stand today, are nothing more than a token gesture. They are a way for the system to keep us pacified, to make us feel as though we have a stake in the future, when in fact we are simply reinforcing the status quo. We vote, we grumble, and then we wait for five years, hoping that something will change. It won’t. It never does. If we continue to engage in this cycle of empty participation, we will find ourselves, once again, with the same broken railway system, the same overcrowded schools, the same underfunded healthcare, and the same desperate demands for government intervention.
The truth is that our votes are not the solution. They are a symptom of the problem. Until we recognise that the system itself is flawed, until we demand a complete overhaul of the political and economic structures that keep us trapped, we will continue to suffer the consequences of our own complacency. We must ask ourselves: what is the point of voting if we do not hold those in power accountable? What is the point of democracy if it merely serves to legitimise a corrupt system that leaves us helpless and disenfranchised?
When November 14 arrives and the votes are cast, we will face the same questions we always face: Who do we vote for? But the real question, the one we must ask ourselves, is: Why do we vote? Until we answer that, until we acknowledge that our duty as citizens extends far beyond the ballot box, we will remain trapped in this cycle of meaningless elections, broken promises, and wasted potential. The responsibility for our nation’s future lies not just with our votes, but with our actions after the election. If we continue to abdicate that responsibility, we will be left with nothing but the bitter taste of our own failure.
