It would seem the Saint Lucia House of Assembly has recently acquired a taste for history. At its most recent sittings both the prime minister and his immediate predecessor expounded on the rewards from taking an occasional peep at the rear-view mirror. Irked by the spiteful stings of persistent social media mosquitoes, ridiculed by a thousand mean memes for his perceived pussycat initial reaction to recent fatal shootings in Vieux Fort, the notoriously sensitive prime minister sought comfort in his remembrances of things past. “Mr. Speaker, history is important,” he exulted, as if he had stumbled serendipitously upon the magic behind the miraculous parting of the Red Sea. “History is important!”
As for Kenny Anthony, when he was interrupted by an Allen Chastanet zinger, something about changing history, he brought the House down with a lightning counter punch to the gullet, delivered with the accuracy of Muhammad Ali in the prime of his time. “Yes,” said Anthony, wagging a boney forefinger, “you can’t change history but the worst thing is to lie about history.”
We’ve come abruptly a long way since the years prior to 2021, when even the slightest reference to Rochamel, Grynberg, Frenwell and IMPACS was enough to send some into paroxysms of violent aggression, when the standard defense against indefensible abuses of public office was “man, dat dead aready . . . forgetaboutdat . . . let’s talk about now.” Alas, to talk about now has for some become equal to dirty-dancing in a minefield. As James Baldwin famously observed: “History is not the past. It is the present. We carry our own history with us. We are our own history. If we pretend otherwise, we are literally criminals.”
Since Kenny Anthony is not a criminal, it will come as no surprise if he concurs with Baldwin. At last week’s budget debate, the former prime minister seemed not nearly as concerned about the national debt, our rate of projects implementation, our quality of public servants as with, yes, history. With characteristic swings of his lanky arms, he thundered: “Everything we are doing today is the consequence of what happened in the past. Everything!”
Conceivably, “everything” includes his current diminished status. Is that, too, rooted in what he did or did not do in the tempestuous months leading up to the most recent general elections, when it seemed nothing mattered more than the ejection of Allen Chastanet from Saint Lucia’s House of Assembly? Following Labour’s 13-seat victory that quickly increased to a 15-2 House majority when the new prime minister confirmed previously denied rumors that he had cut a deal with the election’s two independent candidates, it also emerged that Anthony would not be a member of the new Cabinet. His exclusion was blamed on health issues that demanded urgent attention. A significant number of the citizenry, by their public pronouncements, marked the prime minister’s declaration his first official lie. And not without cause. Unforgettable is Anthony’s repeated pledge that he will never sit in a Cabinet inclusive of a particular politician he had several times labeled “a most frightening prospect” and a lot worse.
Two years on, the former prime minister who, following the 1997 general elections, had made his parliamentary debut with an unprecedented 16-1 majority, has by all appearances remained true to his vow. Still there is mounting speculation that he may be having second thoughts about the impact of his decision on his legacy. In recent months he has been referring increasingly to his age and his proximity to “the departure lounge.” At the remembered recent Budget session, he found it necessary to state publicly that while he is content with his present political life, he believed it was time to reflect on the responsibilities of back-benchers. “Without being presumptuous,” he said, “I want to ask: Who better than a politician to discuss or raise this issue?” He paused to acknowledge the cetacean presence of Stephenson King. It would be an understatement of pachyderm proportions to say the two had not always seen eye to eye, particularly on matters political. A leading member of the United Workers Party, the now 65-year-old King was barely 22 but widely considered a John Compton protégé when he entered parliament. Upon his mentor’s passing in 2007 King replaced him as prime minister. Kenny Anthony would soon afterward declare King’s administration, with Guy Joseph, Lenard Montoute, Rufus Bousquet and Richard Frederick as members of his Cabinet, “the most corrupt in the region.” All of that had changed abruptly a couple weeks before the 2021 general elections, when King announced his resignation from Allen Chastanet’s government. He also let it be known he would again be contesting the constituency he had represented in parliament for all of his political life, only under a new color.
“Yes,” said Anthony, “I see the member for Castries North nodding his head in approval. I suspect the point we have in common is that we have had to decide who will or will not be going into a Cabinet. I’ve had the experience of leaving elected members out of my Cabinet, in part, for example, to appoint a deputy House speaker. In doing so, I had to face the disappointment and even trenchant comments from those individuals and their supporters. Some have been very, very, very unkind. No amount of explanation was sufficient to make them see wisdom, the reason for my decision. But perhaps time and maturity will help in these matters.” This observer couldn’t help wondering why parliament’s only back-bencher had cited King of “the blue wave” while underscoring the difficult choices prime ministers must sometimes confront, why he had not spoken of his successor from his own party? Was there in his speech a message pitched at particular ears?
Anthony went on: “I have repeatedly said it is impossible for all elected parliamentarians to be ministers. And that is why my comments about the practice of promising ministerial positions to individuals before elections have been so harsh. It is an affront to the Constitution of this country. It should not be practiced, it should not be tolerated, it should not be allowed or encouraged.”
Who might Kenny Anthony have had in mind? Stephenson King, perhaps? In 2007 he had dumped Rufus Bousquet from his Cabinet, in fulfillment of Sir John’s dying wish and then, his ass up against the wall, had rehired him. Was Anthony privy to details of the apparent rapprochement? But then, didn’t he claim earlier to be on common ground with the nodding King?
He went on: “Ministerial positions should not be a subject for bargaining before a general election. It should never ever be, because it attacks the fundamental discretion assigned the prime minister by our Constitution. I keep on asking what will happen when this parliament increases again the number of parliamentarians. It is an affront to our Constitution that in this day and age we cannot move from the seventeen bequeathed to us since Independence. Forty-four years later, we are still attempting to, despite that there are incongruities in the demarcation of our constituencies. I’ve warned before: the time will come when a citizen of this country who insists that the Constitution be protected and observed will find his or her way to the courts on this matter. Whether we like to hear it or not, the constituency boundaries are unlawful and fly in the face of our Constitution. It is time this matter is resolved.”
Expert on the Constitution that he is, will the human rights lawyer in his soul dare to challenge Kenny Anthony the politician? Or might this be too much of a stretch, a bridge too far?
