While violence is never an ideal solution, it is often a necessary evil in transitioning to a democracy. It is because of this that violence is seen as practical, not moral. Even using case studies discussed in class it becomes clear that practicality is often safer than morality, as new, emerging democracies are extremely delicate. Thus, many new democracies are faced with the challenge of balancing between morality and practicality, as seen with Chile in its emergence out of its authoritarian regime. Pinochet is a perfect example: was it immoral for him to receive his lifetime bid to the Senate? Was it immoral to not seek retribution and punishment against those who committed vast atrocities against numerous Chileans? Maybe, but the fact is pursuing those decisions were seen as impractical given Chile’s political climate at the time. In any new democracy, the continuation of that democracy is what is most imperative.

This is not to say that practicality and morality are mutually exclusive; in fact, I think that what often separates the two is the spectrum of time. While morality cannot be prioritized in the short term, as it jeopardizes the continuation and success of democracy not only in Chile, but in any given state, in the long-term morality is suited to prevail. Morality aligns itself with the quote, “Neither amnesia nor vengeance – justice!” and as seen throughout history, justice is often served over extended periods of time, as holds on democracy stabilize and expand. While not ideal, it is the only means by which the continuation of democracy is prioritized, preventing violence and injustice from emerging once again.

The first and most important thing to consider in this question of the balance between democratic gains and demands for justice is the most basic function of the state: to provide order and protect citizens while improving their lives. Insofar as that is true, any demands for justice must be considered within the framework of their reconcilability with the basic functions of the state. That is to say, demands for justice can only be considered to the extent that they still allow for the state to provide order and improve the lives of citizens.

This is true for a number of reasons among which being that even notions of what constitutes justice are subjective. To conduct policy and to potentially destabilize and change the face of government on the basis of subjective notions of justice is absurd. Practical challenges to this approach abound, whose notion of justice would we use? How would we ascertain individuals’ notions of justice? Whose notions do we privilege and use as the basis for policy?

Another considerable challenge lies in the reality that in many of these fledgling democracies, many of the perpetrators of violence and atrocities occupy certain positions in the government. Even the acts of violence themselves were carried out not by isolated rogue actors but by the state military and police apparatus. To prosecute and “deliver justice” to all of those complicit in these acts would be to eviscerate the military and police and thus, the state itself.

With all of this said, the symbolic importance of trials against the perpetrators of these acts cannot be overstated. If a country is to move on from these past traumas, at the very least, the appearance of an attempt to pursue justice should be undertaken. To that end, selectively punishing only those most visibly responsible for these atrocities is a good middle-ground.

Patricio Aylwin’s method of moving forward after a period of state-sponsored violence balanced the moral and practical, although perhaps leaning toward practical in order to avoid another military takeover. Aylwin capitalized on the “no” vote to Pinochet’s plebiscite, but he also allowed for Pinochet to leave the political arena with some dignity (first stepping down to army commander in chief). While this may not have offered victims of torture the kind of catharsis they would have preferred and even deserved, Aylwin recognized that long-term justice and democracy could only be achieved in steps. His establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission recognized the atrocities committed similarly to Brasil: Nunca Mais. Once the report was published, Pinochet eventually resigned from government, and the Chilean judicial system could move forward with prosecution of the torturers from the previous regime. Aylwin’s decision integrated morality with practicality because had he immediately prosecuted Pinochet, the military likely would have staged another coup and Aylwin would not have been able to achieve any sort of retribution for Chile’s victims.

Lawrence Weschler’s A Miracle, A Universe argues against a society forgetting the hardships and injustices of the past and living in a state of blissful ignorance, suggesting instead that these issues must not be removed from public consciousness; that they should be talked about and remedied as much as possible.

I would like to echo Weschler’s feelings about mass forgetting using my personal experience growing up in a society that refused to speak about its past and under a government that still discourages them to. The situation does not quite match the South American cases we have looked at in class, but I feel it could provide an interesting perspective on what forgetting can do to a society years later.

In Lebanon, the country maintains a silence over the civil war, which lasted from 1975 to 1990, and the result is a stubborn resentment over the atrocities of that conflict. Many Christians resent Palestinians (and those that fought with them) for massacring Christian villages up and down the country, while many Muslims and Palestinians resent the Christian party as traitors for its brief alliance with Israel that allowed Israel to enter the country and wipe out the PLO, massacring Palestinians and bombing major cities in the process.

After the conclusion of the civil war, the government didn’t do anything to give either side any closure, preferring instead to discourage talk of the conflict (for example by not teaching it in history classes) and making talk of the civil war a taboo. The government forced the people to forget when they didn’t want to, and the result, to this day, is a community divided along sectarian lines, silently resenting the hardships they were put through and the war crimes committed against them – all the while holding onto their hatred of those responsible.

In Lebanon, the policy of forgetting the past has broken a people that could have been saved with a sustained attempt at reconciliation, and so I totally share Weschler’s opinion: divisions created in times of crisis need to be fixed through acceptance and reconciliation, and forgetting doesn’t help.

Legacies of violence are important for a country in terms of collective memory. While it is incredibly difficult to consider creating a state in which oppressors continue to rule alongside the once-oppressed, it is often necessary, as we have seen. It is important for everyone, from the government through the citizenry, however, to retain the memory of what once was. As we discussed in class, it seems as though it would be too de-stabilizing to immediately prosecute and imprison torturers and dictators, especially in the case of a pacted transition. Unfortunately, this means that people must accept tactics that may seem inadequate to get to a stable, free future. In the film No, it is clear that peoples’ everyday lives were shaped and drastically distorted by living under dictatorship, as when the elderly No-group member was utterly offended by commercials displaying the message of happiness, over those memorializing the dead and abused. However, the movement is ultimately successful because of their happiness, somewhat irreverent though they may be, tactics. What is most important is that all Chileans maintain the memory of what had happened in their country, so that when the time is right, justice can be served. Memory can be retained on both an individual and a societal level, but is of the utmost importance for long term peace and democracy. The Brasil: No Mais project knew this: the past must be preserved in as many ways as possible, so that when the state is fully prepared, the correct actions can be taken toward justice.

Moral and practical solutions to a legacy of violence do not have to be mutually exclusive, though it has been common throughout history that the practical prevails. The “end of the story” in Uruguay or installment of Pinochet as senator after his role as dictator in Chile ended are examples of immoral, and at best, only slightly practical solutions. Despite a concerted effort to reinstate democracy as a replacement for violence, the case of Chile reflects a weak attempt to resolve the emotional and moral legacy left behind by Pinochet. It may be impossible to find a balance between the moral and the practical that is agreed upon by all constituents, but practical solutions may be more conducive to stable democracies, which avoid the risk of repeating past abuses (to the same extent). Practical solutions have the potential to take into account a variety of opinions about how to bring perpetrators of abuse to justice. However, those institutions and practices must also make sure that perpetrators are not a part of the decision-making process. Practical solutions can also be moral (to an extent) if they ensure that perpetrators do not have access to any mechanisms of coercion or abuse. Furthermore, they can ensure that a cycle of abuses is not repeated by creating checks against retaliatory solutions that might be supported by some members of the public, and instead, in the long-run, trending towards an equilibrium of justice and understanding.

In a light-hearted, very innocent way, “Please Vote for Me” uses a third grade classes’ elections for class monitor as a model to touch upon overarching aspects of manipulation in democratic elections. When watching the film, I was struck by how early on, the children were taught to seek somewhat seditious avenues in order to assure that they would instead gain legitimacy. This can be seen when the students have to point out the faults of the other candidates. Similarly, presidential candidates spend an enormous amount of money on advertisements solely meant to degrade one another. Although effective for one’s publicity, these highly expensive ads demonstrate the toxic intersectionality of economic standing and authority in the presidential process. Ultimately, if you have more money you will have the ability to technologically reach more people. This dynamic is also apparent within the movie as Lou Lei is essentially able to buy his followers by having the class go on the monorail. Although that wasn’t the only aspect that went into the childrens’ decision, I am sure that this played a crucial part in the final results, considering he won with an enormous amount of support. In contrast, Xu Xiaofei who lives in a single-parent household does not have the economic abilities to provide such an expensive trip, and comes in last. Cheng Cheng too is also crushed. This truthfully surprised me a lot. It seemed as if he had a good standing with his classmates and he was successful at riling up the class during the debates. He was able to expose Lou Lei’s abusive tendencies and yet he only received around six or eight votes. His loss demonstrates the reluctancy for voters to break away from the norm. Lou Lei had already been class monitor for some time, and regardless of how they were mistreated, the students still voted for him.

While watching the film, I wondered a lot about the authenticity of what we were watching. This reminded me of how James C. Scott questioned the legitimacy of his own results considering people who are analyzed may act a different way than how they might usually act. I doubt that all of it was fabricated but I do think there were some parts that were subconsciously exaggerated for the cameras.

The Evergreen elementary school classroom election documented in “Please Vote For Me” shows us democracy in its most rudimentary form: candidates for a leadership position and a classroom full of voters with an equal say on the election outcome. Despite these basic conditions being met, the election nevertheless strays from the theoretical ideal of democracy.

Firstly, the students are poorly informed about democracy and its practices. At the beginning of the documentary, Xiaofei even asks what it means to vote. In an ideal democracy, the voters are well-informed about both the system and the candidates. Still, the election had the potential to provide a demonstration of what happens when democracy is introduced to an uninitiated group of voters. Unfortunately, the heavy involvement of the candidates’ parents means that their preconceptions of democracy influenced the election.

Additionally, Karl and Schmitter emphasize that truly democratic elections are fair, which the class monitor election was not. This is most evident in the bribery Luo Lei uses to collect votes. Despite seemingly being disliked by much of the class because of his strictness as class monitor and tendency for violence, he wins the election by a large margin because he takes the class on a field trip and hands out gifts at the end of his speech. Luo Lei’s history of violent behavior also likely implicitly threatened the class, who may very well have thought he would react violently to losing. This perceived lack of safety to vote as one pleases, coupled with Luo Lei’s blatant bribery, make the election unfair and thus undemocratic.

Interestingly, however, there are many similarities between the “democracy” on show at Evergreen elementary school and what we see in many supposedly democratic countries all over the world. Does this mean that we can’t consider these elections to be truly democratic? And if we do consider them democratic, does that make Luo Lei’s election democratic as well? Considering the corruption, unequal funding distribution among candidates, and/or even violent threats present in many (if not all) of today’s so-called democracies, can we say that any state has achieved anything near the ideal democracy?

“Please Vote for Me” was definitely an example of democracy, although not in its purest forms. Its key elements – an election, direct voting, multiple candidates – make it qualify as democracy in action. However, it was certainly “tinged” in many ways. For one, the candidates were not chosen by a prior vote, but instead were chosen by the teacher. These students seemed excited about the idea, but may not have volunteered under their own volition. In this way, it was not democracy in its purest form. Additionally, a further critique is that a majority was not required. In many democratic systems with more than two candidates, the winner needs a majority in order to win. For this election to have been more “pure” in terms of democracy, it would have required a majority to win and might have incurred a second vote in order to achieve this.

The election was easily tampered with. This occurs in many true states with real elections, but maybe not with this degree of separation. In this election, the candidates, namely the largest boy whose name escapes me, were able to directly influence their votes through shady tactics. Again, this often occurs in real life, a la Egypt, Russia, etc.

Lastly, as is also the case in many true states, there was no oversight to prevent such shady practices from going on. Our current president’s administration is seeing this dynamic play out in front of them – they potentially acted “shadily” and are being investigated for it. In a “purer system,” the intimidation and manipulation that occurred could have prevented the aforementioned boy from even being considered in the final vote.