In 74 years since the declaration of Universal Adult Suffrage in 1944 in Jamaica, the percentage voter turnout was the lowest in a general parliamentary election as recorded in 2016.

That was the first time voter turnout in a contested general election fell below the 50 per cent mark at 47.7 per cent. It would be of utmost interest to know what was the cumulative cost of such a low voter turnout to both the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) and the People’s National Party (PNP), compared to those of 2002 (59.1 per cent), 2007 (61.54 per cent), and 2011 (53.17 per cent), even considering that unit cost would have been lower in past elections consistent with the prevailing price of goods and services back then; but not necessarily overall cost, which a number of other factors would determine due to other “roll-up cost”.

Yet, it elicits the questions: Is the manifestation of voter apathy in the 2016 General Election a mere blip on the political radar? Or is it that lower voter turnout will be a permanent feature of electoral outcomes going forward? Time will tell.

However, the 2016 voter turnout, after a high visibility campaign by both major political parties, demands our focused attention for reasons already stated, but offers an opportunity also to drill down into a broader discussion regarding the nature of political expectations, disappointments and cynicism.

Author and professor extraordinaire Stanley Chandler has this to say about history: “The further back we are able to look, it is the further forward we are able to see.”

I agree. Consequently, I will use the goodly professor’s model of thought and investigation, as proposed, in walking readers back down political memory lane to see if the proportion of expenditure in relation to voter turnout in 2016, even in the face of assuredly changing dynamics, reflects an outcome with the same degree of consistency as with previous elections and electorate interest.

On the face of it, the low percentage turnout in 2016 is telling us some things which will unfold more fully with the passage of time. But those whose duty it is to pay more than passing attention to these matters are of the view that political interest and expectations are at an all-time low in our country. This is not unique to Jamaica, as apathy and disinterest with the politics within democratic regimes can be seen just about everywhere.

Looking back at the last 54 years since political independence, the cycles of peaking political expectations followed by deep troughs of political disappointments and cynicism have carved out an indelible pattern of growing apathy on the political landscape too glaring for even the least attentive among us not to see.

I would wish to call attention to the continuum of this trend which had its genesis in the event of emancipation of the black underclass on August 1, 1838, and show how the nature of earlier expectations, handicapped by a weak knowledge base but strong in emotions and abstract beliefs, was to become the prototype of the character of modern day political hopes.

It cannot be said that the earliest political expectations were totally misplaced. We as a country can boast of making some progress since the abolition of slavery. And political cynicism and disenchantment have not arisen as a consequence of our progress but rather because of the lack of sufficient progress and how we, as a people, have experienced governance.

On this note I wish to now transition directly into a brief scrutiny of the two major political parties alternating in the government of this country. The leaders to which reference will be made are people with unquestionable integrity and decency. But because the buck stopped with each as leader of the JLP and of the PNP they have got to accept responsibility for their respective party and the crooked persons within the parties’ activities in and out of Government.

The JLP’s policies and political practices from 1960-1972 laid the solid psychological foundation for the emergence of Michael Manley in 1972. Using the slogans “Change” and “Better Must Come” Manley, with a doctrine of social justice, fired the imagination of the Jamaican people, stimulating an avalanche of expectations beyond his capacity and that of the economy to respond. This, coupled with external political intervention and interference facilitated by local political forces, resulted in Manley’s defeat just eight years after his triumphant entry into Jamaican politics.

One of the symptoms of high expectations falling precipitously into the doldrums of disappointment was the uncontrollable anger and hatred which ensued and which turned Jamaica, by 1979, into a virtual killing field.

During this diabolical engagement, political disillusionment and confusion replaced political expectations, which sunk to an all-time low until the blinding dust was “settled” and the most unlikely victor, Eddie Seaga, emerged as prime minister in 1980. At this stage political expectation began to move northward again, but this was to be relatively short-lived.

Within 24 months of the Seaga-led Government the public opinion polls began to show that rabid mistrust and resentment on the part of Jamaican people were on the increase.

Manley made a political comeback 1989, but gave way in 1992 to “Fresh Prince” PJ Patterson. The “Black Man Time” agenda was invoked and an unprecedented number of houses, water schemes, schools, roads, etc were built alongside an unprecedented level of waste, corruption and cronyism. Yet, the more the country seemed to progress, the more the nature and operation of that progress generated increasing powerlessness and alienation for the average man and woman.

This experience from the 1990s to the present is a flashback to the progress of the 1960s under the JLP, with a similar pattern of economic growth which was outstripped by social discontent. It is in this context of such a roller coaster expectation that Portia Simpson Miller emerged in the first decade of the millennium, promising to be new and different — something for which people had longed but which was, for the most part, an elusive dream.

However, people continue to search more earnestly, it seems, for a politician to be their messiah. The psychoanalytic school introduced the term “valency” into the lexicon of motivational theory as the drive to satisfy a need. They argue that the more the satisfaction of a need eludes an individual, the more the valency or drive to fulfil that need increases.

Accordingly, if this principle of valency/need relationship is accepted, it becomes easy to see that the pattern of the cycles of high political expectations followed by low political hope and, consequently, a search for a deliverer, will always be on.

“Mama P”, “Fresh Prince” and all politicians got caught up with a “feel-good syndrome” during which time wonderful promises were made which were oftentimes not fulfilled.

At PJ Patterson’s inauguration in 1993, he got a standing ovation when he declared his Government would be a transparent one… no doubt having the Shell waiver scandal $29.5 million (1991) and the furniture scandal ($10.6 million) on his mind while the audience cheered gladly.

But between 1997 and 2002 there was the $5.5-billion Operation PRIDE/ NHDC scandal. This was to be followed by the public sector salary scandal of $60 million, NetServ with $220 million, followed by an additional amount spent on a plant in St Thomas for which it was later discovered there were no takers for the investment planned.

The NSWMA scandal erupted in 2005, costing conservatively $2 billion. There were cost overruns on a number of projects over the periods 1995-1998 and 2001-2004, involving companies owned by former PNP members of parliament and other highly placed persons within the PNP. These amounted to $8 billion.

If one does the arithmetic and factors in the zinc scandal in 1989 ($500 million), we are approaching between $18 and $20 billion of waste and corruption over that period when the PNP was in power.

Then came Portia Simpson Miller announcing she intended to stamp out corruption and that pastors would be used as chairmen of boards. The laughter among sensible people who were not naïve could be heard across the length and breadth of Jamaica.

Many were totally unimpressed with that idea. Simpson Miller, like Eddie Seaga earlier, might have believed and even did everything within her power to prevent the monster of corruption, but Seaga’s minister of labour JAG Smith ended up behind bars. The discovery of the corruption in the farm work programme was not even made by Seaga, who constantly gave the impression of running a morally tight ship and one in which no sin could enter.

The peaks of economic prosperity for the last 74 years have been few, but the feeding troughs have been wide and deep. Acute political mistrust and cynicism are the natural outcomes. One of its manifestations is Jamaicans voting with their feet — staying away from politics and from voting. Many do so out of frustration as they still love Jamaica, warts and all, and see this place as their homeland. Always.