[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his week, while reading an article about the steaming Brexit potato, I came across a phrase new to me: “Contempt of parliament.” I immediately sought elucidation. I grabbed my political dictionary by William Saffire, the renowned former speechwriter in the Nixon White House. It contained no related reference. Neither does our own House Standing Rules and Orders.
More research revealed that “in countries with a parliamentary system in the Westminster model of government, contempt of parliament is the offence of obstructing the legislature in the carrying out of its functions, or of hindering any legislator in the performance of his or her duties.” Examples of such obstruction include: deliberately misleading a house of the legislature; refusing to testify before or produce documents to a house or community; attempting to influence a member of the house by bribery of threats.
According to another respected source, “in some jurisdictions a house of the legislature may declare any act to constitute contempt, and this is not subject to judicial review. In others, contempt of parliament is defined by statute; while the legislature makes the decision of whether to punish for contempt, the person or organization in contempt may appeal to the courts. Some jurisdictions consider contempt of parliament to be a criminal offense.”
My curiosity about the “contempt of parliament” phrase led me to, of all things, the no-confidence motion recently filed by the leader of the House opposition Philip J. Pierre against Prime Minister Allen Chastanet and his government, which I will later address. I thought back to the 1979-82 period, when the parliamentary rule book was tossed out the window so anomie and unprecedented chaos might reign. Misleading the House (let’s call a spade a spade and say, lying in parliament) and naked death threats had become as normal as serpents crawling on their bellies.
In one unforgettable instance the Speaker was forced to abandon his post and run for his life after an MP threatened to “shoot from the hip and make shit come out of your mouth.” Another honorable member grabbed the allegedly sacrosanct mace and tossed it for several minutes to fellow miscreants around the House, all of that with impunity.
I am also reminded that not much has changed in the conduct of parliament since ’79-’82. In 2004 a former prime minister turned leader of the opposition demanded the Speaker extract from a fellow MP an apology for repeating in the House what he described as a fabrication by his detractors, aided by an accommodating press. Not long afterward, videotaped evidence surfaced that proved the House had indeed been misled—but not by the MP who was made to withdraw her remark or leave the chamber.
As for “refusing to produce documents to a House or community,” and “attempting to influence the House by bribery of threats,” the words returned to mind a recent House sitting when one MP threatened the prime minister that if he kept his promise to investigate the thickly clouded Grynberg issue the particular MP would “personally make sure you inherit the whirlwind!” I repeat, in not one of the egregious circumstances just cited was anyone sanctioned in the slightest way.
I need not remind readers of the times opposing MPs have referred to one another during House sessions as thieves, criminals, money launderers and renegades. Even the stone-deaf know the sum total. Possibly this coming week, the opposition’s motion of no confidence will come up for debate. At this point there is no indication it will receive support from the government side, contrary to what occurred in 1981 when Prime Minister Allan Louisy was forced to step down under the pressure of a combined onslaught by the opposition and a disgruntled faction of his own Cabinet.
Of course, much chaos had preceded the betrayal of Allan Louisy, who was replaced by Mr. Winston Cenac, until he too was forced to throw in the towel and declare fresh elections. The result? John Compton’s UWP was returned to office in early 1982, having won all but three of the 17 parliamentary seats.
At time of writing it’s unclear whether next week’s order paper will feature Pierre’s motion and also include other matters. If the session deals only with the motion, then what an abuse of the people’s time. For it is unlikely, judging by the stated motivations, that anything new will come of it. For several years now the Labour Party has made clear its opposition to Allen Chastanet’s holding any kind of office in Saint Lucia, whether in the private or public sectors. His skin color has usually been cited by the party as its main objection. And then there is the matter of Chastanet’s being seen by the SLP as “the poster boy of the economic class,” whatever that might mean. Only a few weeks ago, at the party’s conference of delegates, Tennyson Joseph reminded his colleagues yet again of the consequences associated with electing businessmen to office, his deprecating finger extended as if pointing in the direction of the invisible current prime minister.
Yes, so it’s no secret that the Labour Party has always clung to the view that Chastanet’s color and his family’s wealth render him unfit to hold office in Saint Lucia. However, despite that for some time now the House has operated like a bacchanalian establishment where anything goes, it is unlikely an opposition MP will be so uncouth as to cite Chastanet’s skin tone or his father’s wealth. Instead, the still interested section of the public can expect more bananas with overcooked stale fish.
By all the opposition leader has revealed to the press, the prime minister will again be accused of refusing to elect a deputy Speaker after two years in office, never mind that the particular horse has without just cause been beaten to death. Irrefutably, the House is without a deputy Speaker because the House wants it so, regardless of the constitutional requirement that when a vacancy arises in certain circumstances a deputy Speaker shall be elected “as soon as convenient.”
The opposition leader is on record as saying a year or so ago that “it will not be in the SLP’s interest” to nominate a candidate for the position. As for the government side, it has simply remained silent whenever a Speaker has broached the subject of the vacancy. Bottom line: the election of a deputy Speaker is a function of the whole parliament. (Early next year the court is scheduled to rule on the evident conundrum, thanks to a lawsuit filed by the singular Martinus Francois against the prime minister.)
Come next week we are expected to hear yet again about the prime minister’s reported refusal to stick to the rules governing the CIP, and about his “witnessed growing abuse of public office, unreasonable and irrational decision-making, unsustainable fiscal deficits, his squandering of the state’s resources” and so on. Oh, and also “growing suspicions about lack of transparency.”
It is to be hoped the day, for now unconfirmed, will not end without some useful revelations. But count on it, that percentage of the public that still is entertained by the self-serving shenanigans of local parliamentarians will be treated to more of the same across the table allegations,
more déjà vu, all of it insulting to the institution of parliament. Yes, there ought to be a law. But to what avail in a nation of party-men, not of laws? The latest word via a particular TV station is that if Pierre’s motion does not appear on Tuesday’s order paper, there’ll be hell to pay, beginning with a boycott of Independence (no details) and violence against unidentified targets that conceivably could be the same family against whom the Labour Party declared war during the 2016 election campaign!
