“Let us teach both ourselves and others that politics ought to be a reflection of the aspiration to contribute to the happiness of the community and not of the need to deceive or pillage the community. Let us teach both ourselves and others that politics does not have to be the art of the possible, especially if this means the art of speculating, calculating, secret agreements and pragmatic maneuvering, but that it also can be the art of the impossible, that is the art of making both ourselves and the world better.” None other than Vaclav Havel uttered this impressive and accurate directive.

Havel, a playwright, essayist, poet and dissident in the former Czechoslovakia, also holds the title of tenth and last President of Czechoslovakia and first President of the Czech Republic. He is, with great certainty, considered a public intellectual, a great leader and a relentless champion for global human rights. In his life, he was presented with national awards by at least 19 countries. He has set a high standard of achievement for future politicians around the world.

If measured by the metric that he articulates in the words above, I have to wonder, how many of our current politicians would receive passing grades? How many could truly be said to be committed to “the art of the impossible?”

Michael Bloomberg, mayor of New York, responded to my question, explaining that the prevalent mentality in government is, “If I am not going to be around when the deliverables come, then I am not going to work on or vote for it.” And if this is not sufficient deterrence, then a politician today is further limited to the scope of the possible because, as Bloomberg said, “Where you stand, depends on where you sit.” It seems that rarely, if ever, does politics leave the realm of “pragmatic maneuvering.” Instead, it remains distinctly confined to Havel’s art of the possible.

In the past four years, the United States has experienced a 9.8 percent decrease in household income. And, worse yet, 15.1 percent of Americans are living below the poverty line. Yet the attention of the federal government is elsewhere. As journalist Thomas Freidman said, “It seems like they are having an election, and we are having an economic crisis. There is rarely any overlap.” That certainly merits no more than an F.

The discontent of the American public has become palpable and is directly manifested in what has been described by Henrik Hertzberg of “The New Yorker” as not just another protest, but a cri de coeur. The Occupy Wall Street movement seeks to address the too-often ignored grievances of the American public. As Hertzberg describes, it is “a release from isolation, resignation, and futility.”

But, it may be more than that as well. The daily mass meetings in Zuccotti Park, informally known as Liberty Plaza, may teach our failing government a few lessons. At the General Assembly, megaphones, loudspeakers and the like are banned.

So instead, to communicate the speaker utters a few words at a time, and they are repeated by all in the crowd at an audible distance. Then, the speaker continues to the next phrase, echoed by the chorus, and so on and so forth. The crowd then responds with pre-determined hand signals, which are used to indicate agreement, disagreement, time to stop talking and strong disagreement.

Perhaps this is more representative of Havel’s vision. That which seems impossible — an organized method of communication among thousands of people without any sound-amplifying devices — has indeed made the worlds of those present much better. In a time where discussion has become destructive in D.C., there is much to be said for this dialogue.

Adriana Martinez is a senior majoring in political science, French, history and public policy. She can be reached for comment at [email protected]