Not for the faint hearted

Perhaps to preserve a true larrikin trait Australians are often light-hearted about serious matters. Nothing captures this more exactly than when it comes to their involvement in politics and the affairs of those in power. Forced to vote (otherwise a small penalty applies), on polling day they display their jovial and festive nature through sausage sizzles and election-night parties, rather than the sombre sulking that prevails during vote counts in other places, as though to protect the Aussie saying 'she'll be right'.

Yet, they carry such a jaunty attitude knowing that their leaders – the good as well as the bad – have to abide by a set of well-established structures and principles of government and accountability, and of course aware that aside from the philosophical distinction between the major parties, they will be looked after – by a resourceful growing economy, independent institutions, apolitical state media and machinery.

The intrigue and anticipation of elections touch Bangladeshis too. If not quite the same as the Aussies, they bring a sort of entertainment (and amazement, at least to some). And the sun and the fun enjoyed by Aussies are matched by endless speculation and unpredictability towards the end of each five-year term: when will the election be? Will it be free and fair? Who will oversee it? Will the opposition participate? What twists and turns wait ahead of a transition to a new government?

These qualms and quandaries should keep one's adrenalin high in forthcoming months. Commentators are already out baying for their camps. Still, in our endeavours to predict the unpredictable, maybe we overlook a vital point: imminent change of a government, but then what?

While the population, urban or rural, never knows whether the next government will be any better, naïve hope that the other party might be better tempts it to vote for a change — a hope that sows the seeds of dissatisfaction– and the cycle perpetuates.

Even though temporary and transient, the lure of power forces rulers to do strange things, hallmarks of recent and previous governments. It is as though they were not democratically elected but assumed power forcibly, and, like dictators, must continue to rule, fearing ill treatment once out of power. This, in turn has caused suffering for generations and interrupted political stability. Complaints are voiced, but it seems as through the once-loved-later-hated pedagogy of leaders led to promises but delivered few. Nobody has succeeded in shifting the political centre of gravity towards the people to empower them.

So it is hardly surprising that nearly five years ago an overwhelming majority voted for the current government: a blend of experienced, educated young campaigners. Along with its pre-eminent promises: that it would try war criminals, develop mega-infrastructure, create a Digital Bangladesh, establish the rule of law and protect the weak and vulnerable — and its record of transferring power (relatively) less grudgingly, many were persuaded that giving this government another chance could start a tradition of unfettered democratic governance where electoral procedures are not compromised to favour the incumbent. This might then set in train a basic change in our political culture — a willingness to allow the people's verdict to be heard, free of manipulation.

It has not turned out that way. With a sequence of incredible incidents, a raft of draconian attacks on freedom of speech and shuffling in the machinery, the future can appear fuzzy. Indeed, a new phase of politicking could lead to more street agitation and violence.

Yet the relative calm of recent time (and specially during the mayoral elections which have returned overwhelming majority for the opposition) and increasing number of opinion polls confirming the opposition's ascendant popularity mean that the opposition would be willing to participate in the election. They sense a victory.

After all (and I sincerely hope that I have not spoken too soon) there may be a chance of peaceful transition to the next election and to a next government. But if voters until now have always voted against the incumbent, they must have hoped for a better alternative.

Would the next government be able to provide that? One would imagine that the real issues for people are universal and simple: employment, education, health, housing, food prices, electricity, fresh water and transport. In plain terms citizens want to live a peaceful, prosperous life and work towards a better future for their children. Forty years into independent existence, naturally we have institutions – public and private – processes and infrastructure, however imperfect, which can be reshaped to achieve this.

Still, if the aftermaths of the past four elections are any guide, there will be retaliation and revenge – how vehement is a matter of conjecture and reliant on a set of unknowns – following a change in government suggested by the opinion polls. In line with the long-standing tradition of retribution, what may be a goose now for one will soon be a gander for the other. If this holds true after the election, the foci will once more give way to asphyxiating partisan politics, at the expense of the people and the nation.

Regardless, the most optimistic view is that economic development has somehow taken off without those qualities such as sound institutions, the rule of law and the abandonment of graft, for which opinion-makers yearn. A rough growth of about 5-7% per year allowed improvement in living standards and human welfare, and these index figures for human development were praised by reputed publications in 2012.

And who knows, maybe future governments will further it.

But certainly, neither our elections nor our economic events are suitable for the faint hearted.

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Irfan Chowdhury writes from Canberra, Australia.