Chapter 51 In which the Westphalians have a demonstration of local government in action

Dr Pangloss looked around and almost had to pinch himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming. He was staring out at over a hundred faces of the residents of Westphalia-on-Sea, who had all come to register their displeasure at what he was doing. The meeting was being held in the grandest building in all of the Cote de Westphalia, Soldaway Mansion. The building was considered part of the local heritage and everyone thought it should remain so, for future generations to enjoy. However, some of the more backward people thought this would be best achieved by keeping it within the ownership of the council, and other more visionary individuals thought this would best be achieved by selling it to a private company who could turn it into a hotel and sauna. But, dear readers, we must not digress and begin talking about putting tasteful en-suite bathrooms and trouser presses into listed buildings; there will be plenty of time for that in the future. For the moment Soldaway Mansion was very much in the ownership of the Council, and so there was the coat of arms on the wall above the Mayor's head, and below it the new town motto. It had been decided by the consultants that the old motto "Salus et Felicitas" meaning 'Health and Happiness' was a little bit too '19th-century seaside resort', and that a new slogan should really encapsulate what the dynamic council of the 21st century was all about. They thought long and hard for something which would truly represent the council's approach. Brainstorming sessions were held where people jotted down all the adjectives they could think of to describe the council and then they tried to create a Latin motto from the ideas. Two of the best ideas were "leviculus populus iligitimus" and "Nil democratia in nostrum urbs" but people just didn't think they sounded quite right, so they finally settled on "Nusquam est paro in calx", which even the poorest scholars of the classics will know translates as "Nothing is set in stone". It was felt that this phrase encapsulated the very essence of the Mayor and his cabinet, the phrase which you could utter when challenged about any plan. It was so beautifully ambiguous. 'Are you going to sell this land off cheap to a developer?' 'Nothing is set in stone.' 'Are you going to build something unpleasant here?' 'Nothing is set in stone.' The mayor liked the phrase, but the deputy mayor liked it the most. He made a point of saying it at least once a day, and there was rumour that he had had it tattooed around his left bicep in Celtic calligraphy. What they most liked about it was the fact that it wasn't 'yes' and it wasn't 'no'. It acknowledged that something had been suggested, but avoided having to get into an awkward discussion about details of plans, and money and that sort of thing.

As the Deputy Mayor read through the list of land to be sold off and dismissed any objections to the plans the occasional mutter rose from the public. As the mutterings became louder Dr Pangloss felt his blood pressure rise, and he finally had to tell everyone how the democratic process worked. 'Now look here,' he said, 'you have got to jolly well shut up and listen to me. If you wanted to say something about all of this you should jolly well have written to the council five working days ago and asked to see a copy of Appendix C list xiv. From there you could have filled in form D24x/ab in triplicate, got it countersigned by either a member of the armed forces or the clergy, left one copy on file at the Town Hall, kept the blue copy for your own reference and handed the pink copy to the clerk at the door tonight. You would then have been allowed to speak for three whole minutes. You can't just come along, put your hand up and expect to speak, just because you've spent ages getting the views of local people and getting them to sign petitions. Good God! Where the Devil would we be if we employed a system which involved geeting the views of the people? Off to Hell in a handcart - that's where we'd be. No, under our democratic system the Deputy Mayor can ask each member of the Council for their opinion, and then politely explain the consequences if that opinion does not very closely ressemble his own opinion. I think you'll agree that it's both simple and effective, and saves everyone an awful lot of bother in the long run.'