Complete objectivity?

Voting in such an extremely small community as the CNMI is a very far cry from voting in the United States. In the United States, the voters rarely get to interact with their political candidates. Here we rub elbows with everyone from the governor on down to the lowest elected public official.

Here we very often have a personal history with public officials. And if we personally have not, then someone close to us most likely has had some kind of personal experience with the candidate in question. Indeed, the situation is such that voting strictly on the issues is next to impossible.

Consider Congressman Dino Jones, for example. About six years ago, he was the President of the Saipan Chamber of Commerce.

At the time, while writing a satirical column for the now defunct Pacific Chronicle, I happened to refer to a flagrantly fictitious Saipan Chamber of Commerce report outlining the harmful effects of the flesh trade on the thriving CNMI tourism trade. I cited this “report,” which I quoted at length, as yet another compelling reason to endorse the puritanical Frank Flores bill calling for the swift imposition of open windows on all karaoke club V.I.P. rooms (so as to protect the general public from unspeakable sexual harm). The whole piece was a joke–what Rush Limbaugh calls “illustrating absurdity by being absurd.”

Needless to say, then Chamber President Jones, taking his exalted position very seriously, didn’t think it was very funny at all. In fact, he was bloody outraged–and he let me know it, too.

He kept asking, “Where is this report?” demanding that I immediately produce it. Somewhere in our conversation, he even threatened to sue me for libeling the sacred integrity of the esteemed Saipan Chamber of Commerce.

I vividly remember the threat. I was deeply concerned. I was a green 20-year-old kid. (Now, of course, instead of being supremely apologetic about it, I would have told Mr Jones something else entirely.)

Not too long after that, I handed my Associate membership application to the Chamber (while Mr Jones was still presiding). Guess what? It was summarily denied. I was outraged.

I am not a voter in Precinct 4, Mr Jones’ district; but if I were, believe me, I would not readily forget how I was treated six, ten, or even twenty years ago.

Like it or not, this is Saipan: an extremely small–indeed, parochial–community, with history, blood, ties, experience, and direct personal relationships. Above all, relationships.

And that, my friends, is how 95 percent of the people are going to vote this 6 November.