Why accept blame when there is God?

I imagine that among man’s worst afflictions is that manifested in the notion that some of us have a direct line to God. By any other name, it is a devilish delusion not necessarily related to religion or faith, a brain disorder known as schizophrenia that produces in the afflicted the warped reasoning that by virtue of his ability to see and hear what no one else can, he is somehow rendered his neighbor’s superior; ergo absolutely beyond normal human understanding. If only in his own mind, he is God’s chosen instrument for good and will allow nothing to stand in his way, which is of course also God’s way—therefore at all cost must be obeyed. Millions of Iranians who disobeyed “the laws of God” as instituted by Ayatollah Khomeini paid horribly with their lives. The victims count continues to rise in surprising places . . .
Now call me demonic if you wish, dear reader, but I have seen no evidence supportive of the notion that politics was ever God’s natural habitat. And while I hesitate to cite the Bible, which just has to be the most-often misinterpreted and misrepresented book ever published, the politicians mentioned therein were never considered chaste, virtuous or Good Samaritans.
So, is the politician Jeannine Compton believable when she claims in the opening paragraph of her February 11 press statement that “the guidance from God was I would better represent the people of the constituency and Saint Lucia if I leave the party?” If your answer is yes, dear faithful reader, then what to make of her confession that although many people believe her decision to enter politics was inspired by her father’s death “in fact God had decided that this was my path a long time ago.”
How long ago exactly? It is understandable that she did not enroll when Henry Giraudy, George Mallet and St Clair Daniel (all of great character, by Jeannine’s doubtless divine measure, men who “sacrificed to bring us to where we are today”) helped her father rule the UWP. She was then a relative baby in swaddling diapers, whether or not yellow. But she was old enough to have joined in the best interests of Micoud North (and de partee!) when Vaughan Lewis replaced Sir John as leader, or in the time of Morella Joseph—or even when her father made his final comeback. Only Jeannine knows for certain why she postponed God’s plan until Daddy Compton and his surrogates were all dead and no one of character left in the party.
It is worth asking: What was it that led Jeannine to hook up with Richard Frederick, Rufus Bousquet and other persons “who have never been grounded in the principles and philosophy of the party . . . who have little or no understanding of the very things that are UWP . . . who just jumped on the bandwagon and have no true loyalty to the values of the UWP?” Are they not the same people that her father personally recruited to help him win his umpteenth general election (might God have had a hand in any of this?), later renamed the Super 8 and blamed for Sir John’s death?
How to explain their harmonious appearance on a political platform, when they danced and pranced with the widow Lady Janice in advance of Jeannine’s inheriting the Micoud North constituency? Were their sweaty dance steps on the occasion also guided by the hand of God? Which brings to mind Stephenson King, a front-line member of the UWP when it still belonged to the selfless earlier mentioned triptych. So faithfully did he serve three Compton administrations as health minister (not to mention the law firm of Giraudy & Floissac) that when it came to choosing Sir John’s replacement as prime minister no one was more deserving than Stephenson King. So, when did he transmogrify into one of those toads with “no true loyalty to the true values of the UWP?” When he fired Ausbert d’Auvergne, perhaps?
Because “the hierarchy of the party no longer stands for what it should,” said Jeannine at her recent Micoud press conference, “I made the decision—under God’s guidance—to leave the UWP.”  God brought her in and God took her out, with perfect timing on both counts. But why go there in the first place? Yes, yes, I know: God moves in mysterious ways!
As for not consulting with her constituents before taking her leave, well, again the answer is predictable: “I was guided by the Almighty name and my decision was made with their interest at heart.”
Hopefully, Jeannine’s divine guide will be atypically merciful to unbelievers who do not acknowledge her special status and spare us the unimaginable consequential tortures. But then already many will tell you that even when Jeannine’s father was UWP boss and God to the farming village, Micoud North was hardly heaven on earth!