Some questions for y’all…

On Sunday, we were pounded by a storm, the magnitude of which I had not seen in years. The thunder rocked the house as I prepared to drive and pick up my oldest child from his job down at the Jersey Shore. Sirens were sounding, and people were speeding to their duties.

In the area where I live, our First Aid Squad and Fire Department are both staffed entirely by volunteers. The organisations are only partially funded by the town. Both of these essential groups must raise money for themselves. We are very proud of our volunteers who we all, very literally, trust with our lives. Our youth sports coaches, likewise, collect no salaries and are all volunteers.

One of my daughters asks to come along for the ride. We are both (foolishly, I admit) fascinated by the storm and glad to be out in it. As I drive through the mess, a flash of ear-ringing lightning splits a tree about three car lengths behind me. I drive up the hill, far from power lines and trees, and I park to wait out the storm in my van. Hailstones play a drum roll on the roof of my car. My daughter and I trade comments about how much we love this kind of weather, and I scour the skies for a tornado — a phenomenon of nature I've never seen, but, strangely, would love to witness, from a safe distance.

Lightning dances across the sky, making multiple strikes at several locations. I comment that after this spectacle, July 4th fireworks will seem lame by comparison. Sirens sound and the blue strobe inside the civilian vehicles of the volunteer fire department are ubiquitous. The power fails, and the police begin to direct traffic at the most dangerous intersections. We are stopped to make way for several SUV's with these blue strobes flashing. I have ample time to reflect on this week's article, and my worries for the political future of Bangladesh.

As the song goes, I fear that there's a serious storm brewing. My concern is that as tensions grow between the Awami League and the BNP, the lack of cooperation will lead your emerging democracy to, once again lean towards other agents of power, and that perhaps the wonderful freedom you enjoy will be curtailed or suppressed.

The American Declaration of Independence, which was signed 235 years ago today, reminded the people of the world that governments ultimately "derive their just power from the consent of the governed." As I sat there in that electrical storm yesterday, watching all of those volunteers hard at work, I thought about what it meant. I remember being asked to be an election monitor for the Democratic Party in my home town during the last presidential election.

In our heavily African-American district, I watched families go to the polls together, young people voting for the first time. I looked at my Republican counterpart, and friend. Though we hoped for different outcomes that day, the scene thrilled us both. I thought of how heavily I relied on the news for reports from Bangladesh, and often the insights of readers had surprised me. I realise that news reports are rarely good indicators of the true feelings of everyday people.

To an American mind, the political problems in Bangladesh cannot be gauged without understanding the contribution of the average person on the street. We may ask, "Why do the Bangladeshi people tolerate the bickering between the two major political parties? How can a government unilaterally amend a constitution? Is there popular support for such action?

These questions cannot be answered from afar. We can read the news and worry, we the friends of Bangladesh. We can root for good solutions, and offer our suggestions. Still, I wonder what the pulse is on the streets of your cities, and in your rural regions.

The prime minister of India, Manhoman Singh, believes that he knows the pulse of your people, and in his very unfortunate and un-diplomatic comments that verge on a paranoid scolding, declared that one quarter of the Bangladeshi people are very anti-Indian. Well, I don't think his comments helped those statistics at all. I would also suggest, once again that I'm not too thrilled with India's handling of the border situation, and when your people are shooting at Bangladeshi children, you should be thrilled that 75 percent of the nation still is not anti-Indian. Focus on that 75 percent, dude! Those are better approval ratings than Ronald Reagan got in his heyday. Still I wonder, what do the Bangladeshi people really think of India?

On this day that celebrates the triumph of the consent of the governed, I really wonder what it is that the people of Bangladesh want. What role do they want for Islam in Bangladeshi affairs? I think about other governments, like that of Israel, for instance, which has no constitution, and look at its relationship with religion. They provide a model for a secular state with a recognised dominant religion, although, like most nations, it is a horrible thing to be a religious minority in such a nation, sort of the same way it was a horrible thing to be a Native American here in the US.

Some interesting points worth considering: In Israel, there is a Chief Rabbinate which has authority over certain civil activities, such as burial, marriage, divorce and conversions. Restaurants that are religiously observant have to be certified by the Chief Rabbinate, and the import of non-kosher food is prohibited. Would the average Bangladeshi feel more comfortable with a government which allowed religious leaders to have input into such issues?

In Israel, the ministry of education has the responsibility of balancing the religious and secular education of the people. In Argentina, the constitution mandates that the president must be Catholic. Catholic education is subsidised by the state. My personal opinion is that a modern, constitutional government with an overwhelming religious majority does not necessarily need to be completely secular so long as it protects the rights of its religious minorities. Does the average Bangladeshi want such a government? Is there popular support for the protection of minorities?

I have read, several times in these pages, that America is referred to as "A nation of laws", and while this is true, it is mostly true in the sense that our laws protect us from our own government. Thank God for the conspiracy of circumstances which made that true! Mostly, because the colonies were individual countries with differences of religion, opinion and national background, and because we were a nation of immigrants, our laws never attempted to reflect a single religion, language or the preservation of a particular ethnic identity. This is all to say that the Thirteen Colonies, each with its own unique qualities and cultural heritage, needed to codify the nation of "Nationhood" as being different from the notion of culture. Eventually, the Constitution created a culture of sorts. But is such codification really necessary in Bangladesh? Do the people of Bangladesh want a Constitution that limits government?

As a writer and well-wisher, I really want to know. But as I write, I begin to think, perhaps the ruling parties in Bangladesh aren't asking the right questions. I live very far from your politics, but from out here it seems like the questions your politicians are asking are not so much, "What do my people want?" but "How do I stay in (or get into) power?"

The storm has passed, and everyone in the neighbourhood is defying the state ban on fireworks. People here buy their fireworks in North Carolina and then drive them back to New Jersey. They light them despite police patrols. I am grateful that in my state this holiday is celebrated by an act of defiance. Today's forecast is clear skies and humidity. Most of my kids have to work, so we'll have a late barbecue and celebrate my wife's birthday. I should be cleaning up from the storm, but as usual, I'm sitting here writing, my deadline ruined by yesterday's events.

OP-Ed writers are often eager to sway the opinion of their readers, fantasising that their words will make a difference. Being a far-off observer, my job is more one of discovery and reporting than that of persuasion. Any one of you knows more about Bangladesh than I do. So I ask my questions. Why do people agree to participate in hartals? What are the consequences if they don't? Why don't the BNP and AL defy their leaders to reach some compromise?

Some storms are inevitable. Some can be avoided. My experience has taught me that the vast majority of any population is moderate, and wants a stable and responsible government that protects its freedom. If the people have this, then even when the economy turns sour, they can be content. On the other hand, individual leaders can achieve great triumphs for their nation, but history has shown again and again that these triumphs, without a proper means by which to transfer power, will be to no avail. Bangladesh deserves a peaceful transition of power. It has suffered through enough storms.

So I conclude this article by asking you a series of questions, which I hope you take the time to answer, and that might be the basis of a separate article. If these questions seem childish, know that I have been taught that the only dumb question is the one a person is too afraid to ask.

Is your current political affiliation a matter of family history? Have you shifted affiliation in the past?

What sort of volunteer activities do you engage in to help Bangladesh? Are there opportunities there to become involved?

What is your stand on secular government?

Do you support the constitutional protection of minorities?
What do you think of the caretaker system?

Are you part of that 25 percent that Mr. Singh fears, or part of the 75 percent he doesn't mention?

Why aren't there bigger, more centrist parties in Bangladesh?

Do you participate in hartals? Do you do so willingly?

If it were up to you, what one amendment to the Constitution would you like to see added? Which would you like to see removed?

What Bangladeshi songs should be on my playlist (Sorry, while I was asking questions, I had to throw that one in!)

I am looking forward to your answers. Now to get my house in order…

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Frank Domenico Cipriani writes a weekly column in the Riverside Signal called "You Think What You Think And I'll Think What I Know." He is also the founder and CEO of The Gatherer Institute — a not-for-profit public charity dedicated to promoting respect for the environment and empowering individuals to become self-taught and self-sufficient. His most recent book, "Learning Little Hawk's Way of Storytelling", is scheduled to be released by Findhorn Press in May of 2011.