Say cheese, please, you just made history

As Americans were in the throes of their July 4th celebrations, 125 million Indonesian voters took a Neil Armstrong-like "giant leap for mankind" by voting for the first time in a direct presidential election.

It was a bit ironic that Indonesia's landmark election should fall right after independence day of the world's greatest democracy.

But unlike Armstrong's initial "small step" on the moon, election day did not glue audiences to their television sets, invoke a sense of awe or drive people dancing in the streets in voracious relief.

Election day came and went almost unobtrusively.

That does not mean Indonesians did not appreciate the occasion. They enjoyed it for the three-day long weekend, and they enjoyed it for allowing them to sleep in after watching the Euro 2004 final until the wee hours.

Voting was almost an afterthought, something to get over with so they could continue the rest of the weekend. It's one of those days where the greater historical significance was lost to most, but one that shall be ceremoniously etched in the nation's development. We hope.

I went to the polls with my wife, our five-year-old son -- who insisted on punching my ballot paper -- and one-year-old daughter. By coincidence, my parents were registered at the same polling station. So we all went together like we were going on a big family picnic.

July 5th was family day. Community day if you will, a chance to meet neighbors we never knew we had, and acquaintances who happen to live next door.

Ironically, as we engaged ourselves in this political pinnacle, few discussed politics at all. The accomplishments of the Greek soccer team was the burning topic, followed by the customary exchange of pleasantries and family related questions. Then, a distant third or fourth, came politics.

The seemingly mundane attitude belied the gravity of the situation. It's ironic how the simplest acts can bring to bear life's most profound consequences -- like flunking out of school due to taking geometry lightly or casual sex.

The repercussions of those brief 30 seconds in the ballot booth, effortlessly puncturing a picture with a silver three-inch nail, will help shape the fate of this beleaguered nation and indirectly our well-being for the coming five years -- and perhaps beyond.

Isn't this election -- making our choices -- what we've always coveted? Shouldn't we have made a bigger deal out of the whole affair?

Yet most "affairs", by their very nature, are kept quite. It's when too much is made out of the matter that a brouhaha breaks out.

In the case of the elections, rather than apathy toward the subject at hand, the blithe spirit in which people spent the day may be the earliest indication of voters' growing maturity.

Democratic consolidation will only occur when its processes and institutions become "the only game in town", when people shun nonelectoral means to redress power.

The fact that so many casually sauntered to ballot stations only signifies that democracy, for now, has entered our lives, not just our vocabularies.

For the anonymous few who down the years relentlessly clamored for a day like July 5th -- often at the expense of their own political freedom, economic prosperity or emotional sanity -- thank you.

There is no longer a need to shout when whispers can be heard.

After my family voted and were about to leave the polling station, my father whipped out a camera. I complained that we looked like stupid tourists as he embarrassingly made the family pose for one photograph after another in front of the ballot boxes.

His simple reply was most profound: "Don't take it for granted. You never know (what will happen)."

How prophetic. How true.

For a man nearly 70, he should know. He has lived through it all: the 1955 election, Sukarno, parliamentary democracy, guided democracy, the abortive communist coup, the rise of Soeharto, the fall of Soeharto, the Malari riots of 1974, the May 1998 riots, etc.

For my father, the election was another snapshot for his historical album. For me, July 5 marked a grand turning point in life. For my son, a few years down the road, it will be nothing but a pesky footnote in a history book. Lest we forget. -- Zoso