Vote, vote, vote.......

Last night I met with a guy who, depending on today’s result, could well become a leading figure in the new government – it doesn’t matter who, or which side he is on, because his counterpart would have said almost exactly the same - viz. ‘my candidate’s lead in private polls was 10-15%, but even a 5% margin would be more than enough to be definitive, wouldn’t it? – and by the way the other side is engaging in all sorts of dirty tricks, look, here’s a text I’ve just received showing what they are doing in Kharkiv, etc. etc. etc.’

This morning, election day, at around 10.00, the city was absolutely quiet – Independence Square, the birthplace of the ‘Orange Revolution’ (RIP) was deserted –

By 11.00 traffic at the polling stations was picking up however. I visited a few as a hanger-on to a European Parliament observer group led by Charles Tannock MEP. The polling stations are numerous – located in schools, each covering between about 1200 and 2500 voters. We called on them unannounced, some in the posh part of town, some in a less salubrious suburb. Although the ones in the centre (language schools, favoured by the families of diplomats and professionals) were clearly smarter, all of them seemed in good nick. The cleaning lady in one of the suburban schools was particularly delighted to welcome us and extol the virtues of her school – and also to recommend the buffet. It seems to me an excellent idea to enable voters to have a cup of tea and a bit of cake (at very reasonable cost – about 40p) after the exertions of voting, and it doubtless contributes to the school’s revenue - this is just one of the aspects of voting in Ukraine which the UK might well seek to adopt. It might even increase turnout.....

Voters (who have to identify themselves) report to a table covering their street – each table is manned by a representative of each candidate. Furthermore the presiding officer in each polling station is a nominee of one side, and the secretary is a nominee of the other. This political involvement in the mechanics of voting is a novelty to anyone used to the British system but it is in the circumstances a robust guarantee of fairness and transparency and in all the stations I visited there was clearly good cooperation between representatives of both sides, who were proud to be able to demonstrate to foreigners that democracy was working well. By midday, about 30% of voters had polled. The polling station committees seemed to agree this was a rather low figure, although by our standards it was high for that time of day.

As in the UK, the ballot papers are completed in individual booths. Voters have three choices, either of the candidates or ‘none of the above’. The ballot paper is then deposited by the voter in sealed, but transparent, ballot boxes. Many of the polling stations had special voting booths for the disabled. We were also told about the special service available for those who cannot attend to vote; there is of course no postal voting (one presiding officer was astounded to hear that a system so vulnerable to fraud was available in Britain), so polling station officials will visit the homes of the incapacitated to witness their ballot and place it in a special (portable) ballot box.

I noted an interesting cultural difference - in the UK we are used to folding the ballot paper before inserting it in the ballot box, presumably as some reflection of the secrecy of the ballot. Here, very few papers are folded - is that a hangover from the days of Communism, when in elections there was anyway only one candidate? In any case, this gives the opportunity to take a quick straw poll of the results. For what it is worth, Timoshenko seemed to have the lead in all of the polling stations, but more so in those in the centre of town. Out in the countryside, of course, or in eastern Ukraine, the story is likely to be rather different – but we shall know all within two or three hours of my finishing this report.

Ostorózhno, skól’zko!!

The first Russian phrase I recall hearing after I landed in a freezing Kaliningrad almost exactly seventeen years ago was "Ostorózhno, skól’zko!" (“watch out, it’s slippery”). The sound of the words is perfect, almost onomatopoeic, with the tiniest hint of a ‘w’ before the first ‘o’ in ‘skol’zko’ subtly suggesting sliding and slithering. It was highly appropriate on the pavements of that provincial Russian town so long ago, but the pavements of today’s Ukrainian capital are no better in icy weather – especially after a brief thaw which was followed by a re-freeze. Ironically in these conditions the worst parts are those which have been smartly repaved in modern tiles on which ice is not always visible and which do not even offer the tenuous hold offered by the pitted sidewalk tarmac elsewhere.

Here and there one sees the desultory scattering of a few handfuls of sand, or a lone fellow wielding an icebreaker, but these are of little avail in the general chaos. Most Kievians are resigned to trudging on regardless. Foolishly I attempted to walk to work in these conditions, a stroll which normally takes me half an hour, but on this occasion nearly double that. Two tumbles in swift succession, and three very near misses, have left me with aching bones and a black eye.

As I was scrabbling foolishly around on the ice trying to right myself, there stole into my mind a classic exchange from the Goon Show, in which Seagoon and co. are attempting to steal Napoleon’s piano but can’t get it through the door. After some sound effects of frantic sawing, Seagoon announces ‘There, I’ve cut off all four legs’. Grittpype-Thynne asks ‘But Neddy, doesn’t a grand piano have only three legs?’, at which Eccles announces ‘Hey, I keep falling over!’ I know just how he feels.