jueves, 14 de julio de 2011

Adiós, amigos

As you may have noticed, this blog is no longer updated. You may head over to another place to keep reading me, though.

Como se habrán dado cuenta, este blog ya no se actualiza. Pueden seguir leyéndome en:

http://hachabrava.tumblr.com/

viernes, 11 de febrero de 2011

Musings over musings: Thoughts on democracy, representation and the right to education‏

A couple days I go, while reading my Twitter timeline, I was treated to a certain note which posited the following question: Are we really thriving to stay a democracy in Puerto Rico? Said article had to do with the now world-famous situation at the University of Puerto Rico, where sectors of the academic community are spearheading the fight for an inexpensive, accessible, public higher education.

While no more than the musings of a private citizen, I took issue with some of the assumptions contained therein, and find them to be symptomatic of a certain pervasive conception of the corresponding roles of citizens and States in contemporary political life. What variables there may be in our education and upbringing that foster this kind of attitudes are better left for others to discuss. I will try to briefly state my reaction to just two points brought up and with which I disagree.

In the first place, the note characterizes the UPR student’s ardent activism as “both admired and plain stupid at the same time.” While I may disagree with some of the means that the students have employed in their struggle, and I will be happy to admit that there have been strategic mistakes (as is inevitable in any human endeavor), I find it problematic that a struggle for basic human rights would be described as plain stupid.

Some may argue, that the Constitution of the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico does not include higher education as a constitutional right. That is correct. However, limiting the existence of a right to those contemplated in a document drafted over half a century ago, or two hundred years ago is to espouse an extremely narrow meaning of the term. It is also to overlook the process through which rights are first conquered through direct (often illegal at the time) action, and only then recognized and codified by the establishment. While our Constitution may be silent on the right to higher education, this right is not at all unknown to the international human rights system.

Early on, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) recognized the right to free elementary and fundamental education, and the right to a higher education equally accessible on the basis of merit (Article 26). The International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, which entered into force on 3 January 1976 and to which over 160 nations are party, further developed on the right to education. Article 13(c) of said Covenant specifically addressed the question of higher education, where the text adopted read “[h]igher education shall be made equally accessible to all, on the basis of capacity, by every appropriate means, and in particular by the progressive introduction of free education.” Both documents, the Declaration and the Covenant are part of the so-called “International Bill of Human Rights”, but are often seemingly glossed over by the very same groups who tear their clothing at the inobservance of human rights elsewhere.

The very fact that we are still having this conversation proves that the aim of the right of education, that is, “to [achieve] the full development of the human personality and the sense of its dignity, and… strengthen the respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms” has not yet been met.

The second aspect of the note with which I take issue is the understanding of democracy that it exposes. And I quote:
Why don’t students use this kind of activism, that is both admired and plain stupid at the same time, to search for a better mix of leaders to represent them in the 2012 elections? Isn’t that what a democracy stands for? You elect your representatives and they run the course of the society until the next elections.
The preceding is an example of a hardcore liberal (in the classic sense) understanding of democracy espoused by theorists such as Schumpeter which do away with as many instances of direct participation as they can. Schumpeter proposed that the primary purposed of the electorate was “to produce a government” and not “to choose ‘representatives’ who would see to it that their opinion was carried out”, reducing the political process to a “competition for leadership” not unlike economic competition while denying the electorate/citizenship/population any control over the actions of government other than denying them reelection (Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy, Chapter XXII).

Readers should not be misled into thinking that this is the only acceptable conception of democracy, and they should seriously evaluate if it is the one under which they want to live.
 
This brand of democracy (or rather ‘polyarchy’, which is what Schumpeter was advocating and the institutions of polyarchy do not a democracy make) while not perverse and invalid in and of itself, has been called in to question lately, as the gulf between the expectations of the ‘represented’ and the behavior of the ‘representatives’ broaden. Some authors have gone so far as to suggest that the model of ‘representative government’ is in crisis. While trying to identify causes of the disappointment of large swathes of the population with their elected ‘representatives’ poses a series of questions of its own which are beyond the scope of this blog post, those interested may refer to Eberhardt and Bobbio.

Some liberal commentators, especially those that populate insular AM radio stations, have often chalked up our political problems to lack of due diligence in electing representatives, while carefully avoiding any hint of criticism in the sense that the problem might be structural. I believe that the possibilities of the current political system have been exhausted, and that it is no longer adequate. Due the aggressive co-optation of existing political structures by special interests (among other things), elected representatives cannot be trusted to respond to the will of their constituencies without effective mechanisms of control. Moreover, they have been shown in some cases to directly disregard the will of the community. Therefore, their constituency should at the very least have  the tools to challenge their choices.

I’ll happily concede the point that in the current state of affairs a return to direct democracy is not viable and purportedly “representative” systems are here to stay. I am by no means advocating some Utopian ideal direct democracy. But I do find the absolute entrusting of public affairs to a political elite unsatisfactory and worrying. Taking into account that the electoral system in Puerto Rico is far from perfect, producing among other things artificial majorities while stacking the deck against new parties (to be discussed in a later post), the prospect can be downright frightening.

Instances of public participation may be introduced as supplementary to an electoral representative system, and are already in place in many jurisdictions. Eberhardt mentions some in her case study of participatory governance in the City of Buenos Aires (yes, we are not the be-all, end-all of democracy despite what some people would like to think): referendums, plebiscites, public hearings, revocation, popular initiatives among others. Some U.S. jurisdictions have town hall meetings. The Swiss have their referendums. Some cities set aside part of their budget so communities can allocate it themselves to projects they perceive as a priority on a ward-by-ward basis, and so on. This instances help keep the will of the population and the acts of government somewhat aligned.

To keep its legitimacy, a government should be perceived by its citizens as responsive. To be responsive, it must allow citizens to make it so. Needs, wants, perceptions and preferences may shift as rapidly as they have formed. Citizens need tools to be able to channel this new inputs into government action in a meaningful way that does not completely depend on the discretion of politicians. Else, they WILL turn to other means and rightly so. Therefore, it’s not unreasonable to conclude that, instead of focusing their energies on the selection of ‘representatives’, activists should strive to conquer new spaces for participation.

The question remains. Are we thriving to stay a democracy in Puerto Rico? You be the judge. But in the meantime… Tools. Not sticks.

sábado, 5 de febrero de 2011

Blast from the past: "La mañana de los zapatos lustrados."

Esta entrada se publicó originalmente el 15 de marzo de 2005, en el blog "La Cajita Feliz", perteneciente a la Ilustre Federación de Whiskeros La 14.

No se sentía especialmente inclinado a salir ese día. O cualquier otro. Pero que remedio. Últimamente la existencia era pesada, indeseable. Pasaba el tiempo submergido en una especie de sopor semi-consciente, llevando a cabo las tareas de forma automática sin pensar demasiado en nada. Eso era lo principal. No pensar. Se había levantado temprano gracias a una de las usuales peleas de los vecinos. Cuando dobló la esquina todavía podía escuchar al boricua bestial vociferando desde el balcón del segundo piso. Seguramente le pega a su mujer el tipo ese. A la verdad que hay que joderse con los elementos que viven aquí. Se detuvo en la parada de la guagua justo a tiempo para verla doblar la esquina y alejarse. Tendría que esperar al menos un cuarto de hora por la próxima, aunque con la forma en que los choferes intepretan los horarios en esta ciudad de mierda uno nunca sabe. No quedaba más que hacer, así que cruzó la calle y se internó en el negocio de enfrente. Era un sitio pequeño, sucio y odioso como tantos otros de su tipo. Casi seguramente administrado por inmigrantes dominicanos. "Dominiquis de porquería," --pensó--, "se nos están quedando con el país." Pidió un café, y tras pagar se sentó en una esquina. Un deambulante se acercó a pedirle dinero. Varón, me falta un pesito pa' la cura. Y a mí me faltan un cojón para saldar la casa, pendejo. Disgustado, dejó el vaso sobre la mesa y volvió a la parada de la guagua. ¿Cuanto faltará para que llegue la cabrona guagua? Se volteó para ver mejor la entrada por donde debía llegar en cualquier momento, dió dos pasos adelante y cayó muerto.