The politics of goose poo

Such is my status in Dutch society that I have, only hours ago, cast my vote in my first Dutch election. I love a good voting opportunity, whether it is to choose a national government, a school board member or to settle a family dispute about which take-away to order on Friday. Family members and long-term-friends have endured decades of my political rants, and they know how dearly I hold my civic duty and democratic right to vote. Despite their often flimsy foundations, these rants have been enthusiastically delivered through a variety of means including drunken dinner party debates, feisty letters to editors and nerdy “statement t-shirts”. On one memorable occasion, at a generously liquid reception at the US embassy in La Paz, which Ned Nederlander and I somehow accessed, I even debated some now-forgotten political point (in Spanish) with a British embassy staffer. I recall him looking at me with some bemusement, perhaps because I don’t actually speak Spanish. Apparently that night I thought I did. Ole.

 

My opinions have been freely provided (and come to think of it, almost invariably unsolicited) across many platforms. But until now they have not been formally sought in a global setting, notwithstanding those excruciating five minutes in La Paz.

So it was with considerable enthusiasm that I received my Dutch stempas or voting pass through the post a few weeks ago. Even though you didn’t ask, can I just take a second to tell you that I have realised that the Dutch word stem means both “to vote” and “voice” – another one of those smile-inducing linguistic moments.



 

The stempas was evidence that the Dutch provincial elections were imminent. The fact that I was the recipient of my own stempas was evidence that my entry to global politics was also imminent. Admittedly, my inability to name a single candidate gave me a slight cause for concern, but since a lack of knowledge has never before dissuaded me from providing a strident opinion, I convinced myself that I’d be up to speed in no time and ready to vote come March 18.

Sadly, early in my electoral research I came to the shattering realisation that I was in fact not eligible to vote in the provincial election. This was due to my not yet having lived in the Lowlands for five consecutive years. Three years ... five years ... personally I don’t see much difference.

 

However a dubious consolation vote was on offer. It seems that two concurrent elections were scheduled for March 18 and I was eligible to vote in the second – the Dutch Water Board or Waterschappen elections. These represent a fourth layer of government after the national, provincial and municipal administrations. Based on my Australian experience, three layers of government is way too cumbersome. How then can this nation of 17 million people support four layers?

 

Initially I scoffed at the triviality of my electoral opportunity, uncertain whether even I could muster the enthusiasm to vote in such a contest.

But before you also scoff, consider how crucial water management is in this country. More than a quarter of the Lowlands lies below sea level, a feat only made possible by the one thousand kilometres of dykes holding back the “water wolf”. 

The (Water) Wolf at the door

This country, measuring only 600 by 450 kilometres, contains six thousand kilometres of natural and artificial water courses within its boundaries.

So if you’re going to vote for a Water Board member in any country in the world, it’s going to be here, right? Elect a group of incompetent fools and it can put a dampener on your whole day. The country will be flooded with complaints.
 
So I set out to educate myself before I headed to the polling booth. I discovered that there are 22 water boards, spread across the twelve Dutch provinces. In my (unsolicited) opinion, that smacks a little of over governance. Undeterred, I went on to identify my own local Water Board. It goes by the decidedly dry name of Amstel, Gooie en Vecht. To my dismay I then discovered that no fewer than thirteen parties have nominated candidates in Amstel, Gooie en Vecht, suggesting quite a bit of fluidity in policy variation, with considerable potential for overlap. My dedication to my civic duty began to waver.

Fortunately, an entire website has been created to help me make my choice between the thirteen parties. It’s called the Choice Compass, and I suspect that several of my friends are secretly hoping for a hyperlink. Here it is.

The Choice Compass comprises a series of thirty questions on different water policy issues, each with a brief background explanation. Respondents indicate their position on a scale from Completely Agree through to Completely Disagree. The thirteen parties indicate their position on each question, so respondents can see which party they are most aligned with.

I entered my responses, with the characteristic gusto of a woman comfortable giving her own opinion regardless of her knowledge of the topic. The only question that really stopped me in my tracks was a request for my opinion on goose culling. This was not something I had previously given a lot of thought to, although as a cyclist I do find goose poo to be a nuisance when it is deposited in disturbingly large blobs by reckless birds on rural canal-side cycle paths. Whether that makes the geese themselves a nuisance worthy of culling, I am not so certain about. On a related note, I have imposed family sanctions on fois gras purchases for as long as I can remember. For the record I find the force-feeding of birds barbaric. But that's just my opinion.




"To reduce nuisances, the Water Authority ... may kill geese"

I was also a little perplexed by a question about whether development aid should continue. I think this has something to do with sharing Dutch water management expertise, which in a world challenged by drastic climate change, I’m in favour of. However, not entirely certain what actually lay behind this question, I decided to interpret it in an Australian context, solely to suit my own political purposes.



"The Water Authority ... should stop with development aid"

Still fuming that Tony Abbott’s conservative Australian government recently slashed its development aid budget by 20%, I thought it might be a good opportunity to make the point that I Completely Disagree that any government should stop development aid. And so another unsolicited political opinion is expressed.

After completing the questions, the website helpfully elucidated my position on Dutch water management. Two minutes earlier, I hadn’t known that I even had a position on Dutch water management, although of course if pushed I probably could have given you one.

The red circle on my Results page shows my position relative to the standing parties.



Slightly left of centre ... who would have guessed?

I was somewhat disappointed to be so far removed from the enticingly named 50 Plus Party, but I was happy to find myself relatively aligned with the Water Natuurlijk Party, whose logo I was quite taken by.

Duly informed, I took myself off to the nearest polling booth, having practised the Dutch word for “goose poo”, on the off chance that an exit pollster might seek my views on the big issues of the day. I stood in the booth for at least ten minutes, partly because I was revelling in my newfound role of Global Voter, but more because I was more than a little taken aback by the table-cloth sized voting paper. Thirteen parties sure, but the fact that several of them had around twenty candidates was something that Choice Compass had not prepared me for! Are there really that many Dutch people that keen to be involved in dyke maintenance, groundwater allocation and goose culling? And how should I prioritise those individuals?

But there is no longer time to ponder such questions, for now I must turn my attention to the New South Wales election to be held on 26 March. Readers can only imagine my glee at recently receiving a letter inviting me to submit an online absentee vote in an election that I actually know a little about. I can even log on and practise voting if I want to!
 

Then, to top off my week , Grote Jongen enrolled in Global Politics as one of his IB Diploma subject choices. Yes, I've read all the parenting books about not living vicariously through your children, but surely you'll  give me this one? I'm already excited about reading his text book.

So then, two elections in two hemispheres within two weeks, followed by two years of living with a Global Politics student. In my opinion, that’s too exciting.