Pride in the language of democracy

On the night of the announcement of the results of the recent Canadian election, I watched the scene in front of my screen with rapt attention. Officials swiftly and accurately announced the final results, confirming that the Liberal Party had won the largest number of parliamentary seats, ensuring the Liberals' continued hold on power. What captivated me at that moment was not just the outcome, but the way it was accepted. I saw the leaders of the rival parties, who had only just participated in heated debates, come out to offer their congratulations in polite language, calm and responsible speeches, free of insults and accusations of treason, and filled with promises to continue working from a position of opposition to serve the citizens. As a Canadian, I felt proud: this is the true face of democracy. It is not just winning that creates greatness, but accepting defeat with dignity and acknowledging the will of the people without questioning the legitimacy of the election or the integrity of the system. My mind then shifted to comparing what we are witnessing in the United States of America, whose Constitution has been the beacon of democracy since its founding in 1766. Unfortunately, we now observe the degraded language and waves of skepticism surrounding the election results between the Republican and Democratic parties in the United States. There, the image of democracy has been tarnished before the eyes of the world, and election campaigns have turned into personal battles, filled with accusations and hostility, undermining American citizens' confidence in their institutions and conveying a distorted image of American democracy to the world.

Even more ominously, when we look at our developing world, the degraded political language is not a passing phenomenon, but rather an entrenched culture. There, politicians betray their opponents for differing opinions, accusing them of being traitors, and turning their rivalry into existential opposition rather than legitimate competition. Many of our political systems lack the maturity to accept defeat, as if losing means exclusion, not learning.

My message today, to societies still finding their way to building true democracies, is: Democracy is not just ballot boxes, nor numbers announced on screens. Rather, it is a culture of respect. Respect for one's competitors, respect for other opinions, respect for the will of the voter, and respect for institutions.

If we aspire to solid democracies, we must first change our political language. Our societies cannot thrive if parties continue to view their political opponents as existential enemies. Nor will people respect the results of elections if their leaders continue to sow doubt before every election.

Let us learn from these scenes

and reflect: How can we cultivate in our societies a culture of recognizing the other? How can we make elections an opportunity to build bridges, not dig trenches?