Our Good Fortune

September 15th is International Day of Democracy as highlighted by the UN. The theme this year is engaging young people on democracy and its principles around the world. Lofty goals it seems to me.

When I discuss the issue of millennials with teachers, international development workers and NGO leaders we’d all like to believe that the future is going to be different because the youth of today seem to care in a way that many others before them do not. They also, however, talk about their concern over the fact that many in the younger demographic today don't vote. Is that because they don't care about politics, are cynical about the outcomes or because on some level they don't believe they can make a difference?

This past week in Toronto I attended the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF). I get pretty jazzed about the films, the buzz around Toronto, and the reviews. This year I interviewed several directors. A highlight for me to be sure.

For me TIFF 2014 has had an international and political theme this year based on some of my choices – Silvered Water Syria, Self-Portrait, The Look of Silence, This is My Land, The Gate, The Good Lie and Rosewater. I saw stories unfold on screen about Syria, Cambodia, Indonesia, Palestine, the Sudan and Iran - all countries that are currently struggling politically and have had their fair share of issues. They are countries that are often seen as poor, unsafe or in turmoil of one kind or another.

Silvered Water is one of the most beautiful, poetic, horrific and deeply personal films I have ever seen. It’s a lesson in juxtaposition, storytelling and sound. I think it’s a masterpiece. You really must see the film. ASAP. It’s experimental, compelling, hard to watch and will turn your world upside down. If it doesn't, set up an appointment with your psychiatrist, priest or bartender. Either way you’ll need some help. It harkens back to Resnais’ Night and Fog – the brilliant 1950’s short documentary about an existentialist’s response to Auschwitz. Silvered Water tells a moving and intimate story of what Syrian men, women, boys and girls have been facing for the past few years. Close to 200,000 people have died and millions of refugees have fled the war and abysmal leadership in the country. The film asks a great deal from the viewer. Questions about democracy, good governance, torture, foreign policy, intervention and humanitarianism all bubble to the surface.

What is it I have access to that others do not? What opportunities lie before me? Because of these privileges I must ask the question, what or who am I now responsible for as a result of these gracious gifts?

“Democracy is the worst form of government,” said Winston Churchill, “except all the others that have been tried.” Wise words. We do indeed have a long way to go, but the stories coming out of places like Syria remind us that we are privileged to have the opportunities we have access to, the decent models of government we can vote into power and complain about and the levels of infrastructure we rely on each and every day. Good governance cannot be taken for granted. Fair, safe and decent elections are not a given. We have become accustomed to a certain level of process here in the West and would be appalled to have it any other way. On some level maybe even feel entitled to our autonomy.

Democracy is connected to freedom. Isn’t that what this is really all about?

There isn’t one model for good governance, there isn’t one economic theory that will save the globe and there isn't one political response to democracy. Freedom however is freedom across the board. We all need it. We all want it. We all deserve it. It’s a fundamental human right and yet according to the Democracy Index there are only 25 countries in the world that have a full democracy. The rest are flawed, hybrids or authoritarian regimes. So we do have much work to do.

In one scene of Silvered Water a group of Syrian men are shouting at government soldiers, “The world is not yours alone. There’s a place for all of us.”

Oh so simple and yet so deeply profound.

The question for those young millennials and those older potential critics is what are we going to do with our good fortune?