[dropcap]B[/dropcap]y the ‘V’ word I do not mean victory. Far be it from me to resuscitate the open index and middle fingers of Sir Winston Churchill to form his famous V for victory symbol, after England and her allies had vanquished Hitler’s army in World War II. I am no Winston Churchill! I loathe expressing amazement at the new ‘V’ word in the lexicon of the defeated Saint Lucia Labour Party, following the last general elections. The SLP, a little too late, realized that their vindictiveness and arrogance in office was partly responsible for their rejection at the polls.
Since that discovery they have tried desperately to stain the new prime minister, Allen Chastanet, with their vindictiveness disease. Someone ought to instruct the opposition that to remedy past failures they first need to acknowledge their error. Secondly, they need to offer a sincere and honest apology to the people of Saint Lucia, and promise not to repeat past mistakes. Thirdly, they need to openly congratulate the victorious leader and stop behaving like spoiled brats. Democracy and civility demand the acceptance of defeat with humility and maturity.
Wouldn’t humility and maturity be a better approach than using the privileges of parliament to try to paint the victorious Allen Chastanet with the vindictive label? Do these angry politicians think they are smarter than the rest of us? Don’t they realize that the ‘V’ word reminds us of their many vicious acts in office?
I am no soothsayer; no fortune-teller, no prophet, nor diviner and certainly no seer. When the leader of the opposition, at his first sitting of the new session of Parliament, turned to quoting the soothsayer’s warning to Julius Caesar, to beware the ides of March, my mind kicked into overdrive. Whoever had coached him may have anticipated a March 15 budget presentation, and not March 20. My curiosity was first aroused when the leader of the opposition walked into the House wearing a light beige necktie, and not a blood-red one, his party’s stamp of approval. I wondered whether his ‘ides of March’ quote, a-la-mode George Odlum, meant that the leader of the opposition would finally be his own man, and not a second fiddler.
Later, I analyzed the behaviour of the leader of the opposition, Philip J. Pierre, in his crude exchanges with Minister Guy Joseph, and deemed it equivalent to the Mace incident of the early 1980s. For my part, such behaviour was par for the course for the opposition. Indeed, I regarded the attack on Honourable Guy Joseph as Scene 3 of Act 1 in the new session of parliament. The non-conforming necktie and the ides of March quotation were Scenes 1 and 2.
Permit me a small digression to ask: Isn’t it time the Labour party let its hatred of the new Governor General go? How many new Labour MPs were around when Neville Cenac, aka Chandel Molle, crossed the floor of the House some thirty-plus years ago? Truth be told, these new imitations of Labour ought to be grateful to Sir Neville Cenac, that in the late sixties and early seventies it was he, George Murray and one or two others who kept the flame of Labour lit by their full-hearted approach to public campaigning. The leadership of the SLP was lost and Odlum, Louisy and I had not yet joined.
Pierre’s English Literature tutor, or whosoever was his coach before the opening of parliament, could have pointed him to Macbeth, as Odlum might have done. He could have turned to Act 5, Scene 5 and let the following words flow from his lips as he embellished each with a love for the language, which only the gifted feels: “Out, out brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
In Pierre’s vanity, the tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing was screwed to resemble the vindictive profile he tried so hard to pin on another. And to make it abundantly clear that he means the prime minister no good, he could have returned to Brutus, Act 2 in Julius Caesar, and cried out with suitable emotion: “Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods.” But even in the cut of death, their hatred would not permit the PM’s dead flesh, as food fit for the gods. Such ill will has no place in public policy and certainly not in a civilized parliamentary debate, or in the art of politics.
It would be quite pointless to further elaborate on the vile venom thrown at Minister Joseph by the angry leader of the opposition, except to say that the devilishly quiet Minister was egging him on. In that atmosphere, such deep wounds would not soon heal. In politics, as in life, there is always a beginning, always a genesis, some act or word that comes before Noah’s great flood or the cruel Egyptian famine; something that explains current events. Do Pierre and his people still see a poodle when they sit opposite Joseph in Parliament? And who was the hound that first discovered the poodle?
The SLP has sadly been used to washing its dirty linen in public. They curse, they swear, they lie and are often their worst enemy. They lack self-confidence, which is a precursor for a life in politics. The leadership of the late 1960s would never have taken the SLP to victory. After the baton was passed, the curse seemed to follow the SLP into government. Its self-defeating leadership struggle cannot be explained, even today, unless a theory of a sellout of the peoples’ trust for a sizeable sum is included in the calculus.
After the half-white hope later emerged, Labour seemed to have found their ‘red nigger’; as had the UWP before. They still quarrelled amongst themselves. They were cunning and deceitful. They ranted against anyone who opposed them. They paused long enough to alter the rules of the party so as to deny Mario his turn to lead. Remember? They marched with civil servants for more pay but, once in office, they offered the same marchers, zero, zero and one per cent pay increase. The civil servants were speechless! My God, I thought, what manner of men are these?
They hate criticism. They went as far as threatening to write to foreign investors asking them not to invest in Saint Lucia. What kinds of idiots are these? Are they of those who reject the idea that, ‘men at some time are masters of their fate?’ Tell them that to the committed patriot, the ‘V’ word means victory over poverty, ignorance, disease and foolish, loud-mouthed politicians.
