International clamor over Iran’s presidential election has reached deafening proportions. The incendiary struggle is fueled in no small part by Twitter’s dominance as a global “one-to-many” communication tool. Confronted with a media blackout, CNN has relied extensively on tweets and re-tweets (RTs) in the #iranelection and #neda hashtag feed. Even friends of mine who have self-identified as apolitical are showing an interest and lending their supportive voices to the Iranian people. Hooray for Twitter. This historical moment shows technology in its best and brightest light.
But beyond the human struggle, technological triumphs, and media saturation, a nagging familiarity prodded a memory of 2000 and America’s own stolen presidency.
If your first thoughts of the ill-fated Gore v. Bush election are of pregnant, dimpled, Shirley Templed chads, then we have lost more than an election. We’ve lost a collective memory that would bolster the current outrage at Ahmadinejad’s perceived theft. The real crime in the US 2000 Presidential race involved the unconstitutional “purging” of suspected felons from Florida’s voter rolls. Through an unholy collusion of private industry (ChoicePoint) and government malfeasance (Governor Jeb Bush and Secretary of State Katherine Harris), thousands of Florida citizens had their voting rights unscrupulously rescinded. As reported by investigative journalist Greg Pallast, this was Salon.com’s politics story of the year. But the rest of the country and mainstream media all but dismissed the grossly underreported injustice. By election night it was less than a fading light in the rear view mirror of US politics. The ensuing media orgy over dangling chads should have forever put to rest the notion of a pervasively liberal media. Even today recollections of that troubled race tend to focus on the Supreme Court’s decision to end the recounts rather than the thousands of predominantly black voters who had their 15th Amendment rights violated.
Nine years later an equally important presidential race around the world ends in controversy. Except for the level of violence, Iran’s election resembles our own shameful quagmire of 2000. But this time, the world seems more engaged. US citizens seem more engaged. The media seem more engaged. In all aspects of the conflict, the impeccably groomed mane of our moral white horse waves as gallantly as our flag.
Of course, Twitter wasn’t around in 2000. So I suppose I can’t blame the vast citizenry who rely on bleeps and burps from their cell phone to inform them when to speak out for not inferring similarities between the two elections. And is it really fair to blame Congress who recently voted to condemn Iran’s crackdown on demonstrators? After all, it wasn’t until September 11, 2001 that many legislators realized just how big a grudge former employees could hold.
But solidarity is nice. In the bobbing sea of green worldwide I see the presumed freedom of dissent flourish in a foreign land, albeit at a high price. I’m not indifferent to the plight of Iranian people. Neither am I sanguine about the peaceful removal of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Considering the paltry few responses available (strong words, sanctions, force), I find Obama’s restraint admirable and warranted. To the people of Iran I say, been there, done that, have the black President to prove it. Live in hope.