Estonia’s entire political system has stopped listening to the people, is preoccupied with itself, its ratings, grievances and small victories, none of which changes anything in people’s lives, writes Tatjana Gassova.
Summer is not far now, and during this hopefully warm and light period, voters will likely remove themselves for good from the political agenda, for which neither calm nor sunshine is forecast.
Estonian politics is reminiscent of a car confidently driving in the opposite lane, with both the drivers and passengers trying to convince one another that “this is the way.” Recent ratings only confirm the obvious: the state has entered the phase of systemic political deadlock and is making no effort to escape it.
While this deadlock still looks half-way decent from the outside in the rest of Estonia, it has long since become a lifestyle in Narva. A lifestyle for which it is fitting to be embarrassed, especially in front of the city’s residents.
Narva politics has become an absurd play where every act ends in a canceled city council sitting. Nine months after elections, the city has been put on perpetual standby. Council sessions are canceled, decisions sent back and the majority, while formally existing, is unable to make a change.
At the same time, the Prosecutor’s Office has launched criminal proceedings to check the legality of the management’s compensation package.
This all culminated in 16 council members, or the minimum majority, deciding to convene a council session of their own in order to express loss of confidence in Council Chair Mihhail Stalnuhhin, the deputy chair, and Mayor Katri Raik, and elect new leaders for Narva. Once again, the current leadership’s reaction is to bury its head in the sand.
The result is that Narva both is governed and isn’t at the same time. There is a kind of majority, but it has no strength. The law is in effect, but can be dragged out so that nothing happens. And we can keep throwing up our hands and saying that this is how it’s always been in the border city, but it would be wrong to do so. Narva is a mirror image of our country blown up under a microscope.
The government’s popularity is at an all time low, while there are tireless attempts to demonstrate that all ministers are diligent and all decisions the right ones. If there is a mistake to be made it’s in supporting the opposition, because they are the “bad guys,” which their plans for the future supposedly reflect.
This just leaves the question of what does the opposition have to offer? The answer is as simple as it is unpleasant: nothing at all, since loudly condemning the coalition is enough to score political points.
These efforts to tug at the opposite ends of the blanket leave the people with nothing. What is more, just like the residents of Narva who are tired of the endless circus, voters elsewhere increasingly turn off their TV, prefer entertainment to news and generally feel less interested in politics.
However, it is in this moment of silence, where politicians argue among themselves and cities have been put on standby, it becomes crystal clear that the entire political system has long since stopped listening to the people. It is preoccupied with its own ratings, its grievances and small victories that change nothing in the lives of people who go to work each morning, pay taxes and try to survive.
How much longer can we keep pretending that everything is fine? How much longer can people be convinced that this political petrification is just a temporary inconvenience and not a symptom of a deep crisis of trust?
If politicians truly consider themselves leaders, it is high time to wake up, because failing to do so now runs the risk of one day waking up in a country where people really do not care anymore.
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