Several weeks ago I was at once flattered and shocked to hear a not usually generous show presenter lauding my contributions to local journalism, with special emphasis on my “indisputable credibility through the years.” The euphoria I felt soon evaporated when he added: “I have just one complaint. And it has to do with the time Rick has devoted to this matter of Grynberg. Dat dead. Dah eh goin’ nowhere!” Evidently he had never considered the time it took Woodward and Bernstein, with all the resources at their disposal, to bring to light the dirt of Watergate. Or what it took to get the Pentagon Papers to readers of the New York Times. Or that the hunt for perpetrators of the Holocaust continues almost eighty years later. Need I mention the countless untold local stories of abuse, details of which remain locked away in the vaults of convenience, despite the victims’ cries for justice?
That the show presenter was none other than the singular former parliamentarian and lawmaker Richard Frederick is significant. I had good reason to know what he endured during his time in the dragon’s den. How could he have forgotten so quickly that the power vested in members of parliament can be used for purposes other than the common good? He had personally suffered—and I dare to say continues to suffer—the consequences of lengthy campaigns designed to prove him “the most frightening prospect confronting this nation.”
Jack Grynberg’s relationship with Saint Lucia started in 1999, two years after the Kenny Anthony administration took office. A career public servant, Earl Huntley had that year discovered “something black like tar on my foot” while cavorting in the sea at Dauphin with a favorite female. As for the Denver, Colorado oilman Jack Grynberg, his Internet history reminds of Count Dracula, the only difference being that Grynberg’s reputation as an international bloodsucker is strictly metaphorical. What really keeps him jacked up through the night is Texas tea. Bubblin’ crude. Oil!
At the time Huntley soiled his foot in the crystal clear Dauphin waters, Grynberg was having a whale of a time at the expense of the people of Grenada over an oil deal that went awry just two weeks after it was inked by the island’s government and the CEO of RSM Production Company. Suffice it to say it cost the taxpayers of Grenada millions of dollars before their seabed was rescued by the International Center for Settlement of International Disputes.
Huntley alone knows Jack Grynberg’s special attraction. Accommodated by overseas-based fellow Saint Lucian public servants, the two men hit it off from their first connection. The American soon confirmed Huntley’s admitted “hunch”: the gooey stuff that serendipitously had clung to his foot while swimming at Dauphin was by Grynberg’s measure indisputable proof of the presence of vast reservoirs of oil—not just leakage from some long forgotten shipwreck.
But back to Richard Frederick: even as he was recommending I quit attempting to resurrect the dead, the ad hoc committee of the World Bank’s ICSID was pronouncing Grynberg’s US$500 million breach of contract lawsuit against our government very much alive. Earlier the unheard suit had been dismissed with prejudice by the tribunal, after the notorious oilman refused to guarantee possible costs. It’s now up to Grynberg to continue to pursue his case or drop it. Shortly before his matter came before the ICSID’s ad hoc committee, he made some reconciliatory proposals to the government. In all events, Frederick and fellow Cabinet members were certainly in a mood for war when back in 2009 they first learned of the oilman’s secret relationship with Kenny Anthony.
The following is from Frederick’s contribution in parliament to the 27 April, 2009 budget debate: “Mde Speaker, this government has discovered that the previous administration signed an agreement with RSM and a representative named Grynberg for oil exploration in Saint Lucia. RSM is a company duly organized under law of the State of Texas.”
He read from the document: “By this agreement the company is exclusively authorized to carry out explorations in the agreement area during the exploration period, and if a commercially exploitable petroleum reservoir is discovered during the period the company is exclusively authorized to conduct development operations. Under Article 3 of the agreement the government . . . hear this well, Mde Speaker. Hear this well. . . the government grants the company an exploration license covering its interest in the agreement area for an initial period of four years from the effective date, subject however to force majeure [believing the MP had slipped into kwéyòl, the diarist translated and recorded force majeure in Hansard as ‘force food’] provisions of Article 24, upon application made by the company the expiration license shall be renewed for two further periods of two years each.”
Frederick turned several pages before moving on: “It goes on to say each development license referred to in Article 8 shall be granted for an additional period of 30 years. Upon application to be made by the company each license shall be renewed for a further period of 20 years. In other words, Mde Speaker, the last Minister for Finance tied down sweet Saint Lucia, the waters of sweet Saint Lucia, for 58 years. Yes, Mde Speaker, 58 years!”
He came to page 29 of the agreement: “It was signed, Mde Speaker. It was signed. The signature is very familiar. Now you know what, Mde Speaker? Dr. Kenny Anthony, the then Minister for Finance. No, I am referring to an official capacity now, not as a Member.”
The MP Richard Frederick related in blood-curdling detail how deep was Earl Huntley’s involvement in the Grynberg deal, including the oilman’s references to the public servant as “my trusted associate.” Also that Kenny Anthony had entered into the contractual arrangement contrary to his attorney general’s advice.
Not long after the recalled budget debate Kenny Anthony publicly commented for the first and last time on the Grynberg matter. Actually, what he said had less to do with his arrangements with the American oilman than with the government parliamentarians Rufus Bousquet, Guy Joseph and of course his long-time bête noir Richard Frederick, largely responsible for the Labour Party’s election defeat in 2006. In the process Frederick had destroyed whatever long-term political ambitions Victor La Corbiniere and Vaughan Lewis may have harbored.
In his televised statement the former prime minister claimed the above-named MPs had made false allegations against his “character, honesty and integrity.” He said the allegations were “not only untrue but also calculated to deceive and defame my good name when they know and knew otherwise.”
Moreover: “This pretended and feigned ignorance by these individuals, one a lawyer, will be exposed in this statement . . . These three men well knew their allegations were and are false. Like the political cowards they are, they relied on the privileges of the House of Assembly to publish these deliberately fabricated lies to the world. All three chose to publish these defamatory allegations in the House during the budget debate, after I had made my budget reply, in the certain knowledge that I could not and would not be allowed to contest their baseless allegations since I didn’t have the right to reply to them. They dare not repeat them outside the precincts of the House. Their supporters who repeat those allegations are not similarly protected.”
Truth be told, nothing in the Standing Orders prevents an MP from standing up at any time on a point of clarification. To be forced to sit in silence while another MP misleads the House would be tantamount to complicity. In all events, the MP Kenny Anthony had left the chamber soon after Frederick started his assault.
In his televised statement Kenny Anthony said Earl Huntley had countered the MP’s allegations soon after the 2009 budget debate. In an article published by the Voice, Anthony asserted, Huntley had “exposed Richard Frederick’s calculated effort to deceive the public and injure my reputation.” He also referenced his former attorney general, the Commonwealth Secretariat in London, and other matters that have since been made clear by the torch of time.
Finally: “The government of St. Vincent has continued its relationship with Grynberg Petroleum and some time in 2007 renewed their contract to continue exploration in the waters of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. If Grynberg was a con artist why was his company’s license renewed in St. Vincent?”
Keeping in mind all there is to read on the Internet about Jack Grynberg’s operations, including details of his troubles with Grenada, the same question might fairly be put to Kenny Anthony. Not long after he added his signature to a contract with Jack Grynberg’s RSM, the oilman requested additional time to his 4-year contract, as well as more acreage. Grynberg also notified Kenny Anthony that border disputes prevented him from holding up his end of the arrangement. The prime minister delivered without one question about the alleged border disputes.
I almost forgot: Not long after his recalled televised Statement to the Nation Kenny Anthony filed a lawsuit against Richard Frederick. He threatened others whom he claimed were supporters of the MP. The matter never came to court. Some five or six years after filing, the former prime minister instructed his lawyers to discontinue the action. Who knows whether his decision was based on an undertaking never again to mention in the same breath the names Jack Grynberg and Kenny Anthony—and to discourage journalists from investigating the darker dimensions of the devilish relationship!
