NEW YORK -- On May 5, I voted for a rightwinger. It was my first time, and with any luck it will be my last. I really didn't have much choice. Born in the United States of a French parent, I enjoy dual nationality -- a status that Jean-Marie Le Pen had promised to eliminate had his National Front seized the presidency of France. I disagree with French President Jacques Chirac on just about everything, but I voted for him anyway. It was merely a protest vote.

Under normal circumstances, the greatest advantage of European-style parliamentary democracy over our American two-party system is that it offers voters a wide choice of platforms to choose from. Political parties whose ideologies range from hardline communist to neofascist with every conceivable shade in between fragment the electorate on election day. But it coalesces days later as party officials horse-trade to form voting blocs. Occasionally a small party becomes crucial to the creation of a political alliance, offering that party's supporters a chance to see some of their ideas become law. Voting in American presidential races is often a matter of choosing "the lessers of two evils." Europeans get to vote for candidates they genuinely agree with. That's why 90 percent voter participation is common there and unheard of here.

In America, "minority" opinions -- those held by less than 49.9 percent of the electorate -- are generally dismissed as the rantings of fringe lunatics. But truly insane opinions become law nonetheless -- when they're espoused by a tiny minority of rich and well-connected people. Our single-minded obsession with majority rule is so extreme that on many important issues, Democrats and Republicans offer identical platforms. On the other hand, the American system offers the relative advantage of political stability -- even if that stability comes at the cost of alienation, boredom and stagnation.