Electoral Court Case Every now and then one has occasion to feel real pride in one's friends, realising at the same time what a privilege it is to know them. One such occasion for me was a recent court case which I attended in a local suburban court near me. The hearings involved two of my friends, Mark Cerin and Katie Ball, both of whom were charged with having 'failed' to vote in the 1993 federal election. Each has refused to co-operate with a 'democratic' process in which, as they point out, the State relies on the threat of violence as its ultimate means of forcing participation. They had both written letters to the Electoral Commission explaining why they would not vote in the election. Through their actions Katie and Mark have challenged the foundations not only of the Australian 'representative' system of government, but also of the legal system which complements it - and for all his sighing and rolling of his eyes, the Magistrate in this case knew as much. For me it was a poignant reminder of the arrogance of the legal system, and of the power people have to challenge that system. Mark and Katie both read statements in court explaining their actions - against, I might add, considerable pressure to remain silent and not take up the court's valuable time. Mark prefaced his statement by expressing how he was feeling at the time: 'I feel scared', he said. (I felt scared, too). This brave gesture had the effect of creating a wonderful space of integrity and openness in the courtroom. As I saw it, amidst a room full of people playing Official roles: Magistrate, Divisional Returning Officer, Police Officer, Stenographer, Mark retained his identity as a person pure and simple. He had stepped out of his role as 'defendant'. In a clear and dignified (and never 'defensive') way, he set forth those principles of his which underlay his refusal to vote. In closing, Mark invited the court to resolve the conflict in a nonviolent way, stating that he was prepared to negotiate. Katie took her turn next, reading a different statement. Whereas Mark had emphasised the value of his action as one of civil disobedience, refusing to give a 'representative' Government permission to make decisions on his behalf which he could and should make for himself, Katie spoke of her vision of a non-hierarchical, decentralised political structure. She named a few of the ways in which her current participation in numerous grassroots community organizations realised this vision, while the voting options open to her in '93 did not accommodate it. Having heard the respective statements the Magistrate promptly fined both Mark and Katie $50 each, plus costs. His only comment before passing judgment was (something like), "In some countries people would be grateful for the chance to vote..." I did not hear it clearly because it was muttered under his breath. He did not invite any reply. I can only speculate as to whether or not this was because he was eager to proceed with other court business of pressing importance (parking fines and small time dope busts?), or if he feared he might not be able to sustain an ethical argument for what he was about to do in this country, by effectively threatening to have Katie and Mark locked up if they did not admit they were wrong and pay the State some money. (Both activists had stated that they would refuse to pay a fine). Having been fined Mark and Katie were dismissed, however Katie was not completely free to go since she had been carried in her wheelchair up the courthouse stairs beforehand (by some Police Officers and a Salvo. whom she had asked to help her), and now had no independent means of going down the stairs to get out. Now let's get this straight - the Law says that a person has to vote. Rather than going to a polling booth and voting informal, or for someone who does not represent her views, Katie goes to the trouble of writing to the State voting apparatus to voice her dissent of this requirement. The State responds by summoning her to appear before a court in order to be tried for her 'failure' to participate in and legitimise its process. Katie saves the State the trouble of apprehending her by taking herself to the front door of the courthouse at the appointed time, whereupon the Clerk says it's her job to organize wheelchair access. After the hearing, having had the privilege of being fined $75 odd for her efforts, it is now up to Katie to organize a way out of court. (Mark, the Salvo and the Cops obliged again on this occasion, as it happened). Mark and Katie, you have challenged and inspired me to think more deeply about my own participation (as a mostly informal voter) in our so-called representative democracy in the age of the multinational infotainment industrial complex. Meanwhile, I am reminded of songwriter Fred Small's woman in a wheelchair, who says to her erstwhile able-bodied companion, No don't feel sorry, don't feel sad, I take the good along with the bad. I was arrested once at a protest demo and the Police, well they had to let me go. You see we were protesting the fact that Public buildings were not wheelchair accessible Turns out the Jail was the same way. Let's just hope nobody calls an election on the day you serve your time. Rowan White