As Aesop observed: “A liar will not be believed even when he speaks the truth!”—possible confirmation that even the worst liars can occasionally be truthful, if only by accident. Not so with that breed of prevaricator whose special assignment in this especially silly season of COVID-19 and general elections is to pollute the atmosphere so that truth is all but indiscernible. Fortunately, most of the referenced bad news bears reside outside the borders of the land that gave them birth and so must depend on Facebook to spread their peculiar strain of virulence.
Rain or shine, they blame Saint Lucia’s prime minister. Either he has somehow caused the sun to be too sunny or the rain to fall too heavily, or not often enough. No surprise, then, that they would attempt to make Allen Chastanet responsible, if not for creating the coronavirus at the island’s barely functional crime lab, then for its consequences that they associate with the govrrnment’s “over-dependence on tourism at the expense of agriculture.”
It’s as if Saint Lucia had once prospered from agriculture—at best Anansi folklore. The sad but undeniable truth is that without much foreign assistance we could not have produced, let alone sold at a profit, the bananas that represented local agriculture, and which we hyperbolically referred to as “green gold.” In all events we could not resist turning banana production into yet another internecine Lilliputian war. No need on this occasion to revisit the regrettable history that underscores our reluctance, if not our inability, to help ourselves. Oh, but what great warriors we are when it comes to fighting ourselves.
Allen Chastanet has been accused by his blinkered detractors of putting “all our eggs in one basket.” Seldom are the eggs classified. Truth be told, we’ve never demonstrated any love for agriculture. Suffice it to say those who have studied the phenomenon attribute our demonstrated distaste for working the land to our “close connections with plantation slavery.” Others cite the patience synonymous with regular agriculture and which we have so little of. Then there are the problems associated with competing with countries several times our size for the same market. A long time ago we developed an appetite for imported, irresistibly packaged, deadly junk food. We plant barely enough to feed ourselves.
Our countless tax-funded “eat what you grow” campaigns were always doomed, at any rate following the arrival of supermarkets and fast-food restaurants. But back to the Lilliputians and their war over which end of the egg should be broken first. Soon after the WHO declared the coronavirus on its way to becoming a pandemic, Saint Lucia’s prime minister convened an urgent meeting of health personnel, and other departments of government, in a determined effort to keep the unfamiliar virus at bay. An attendant MP and deputy leader of the opposition party declared the meeting productive and reassuring. He confessed on-camera that his earlier “trepidation” had proved unfounded. Now he was happy to declare Saint Lucia’s state of preparedness, notwithstanding meager resources, “world class.” Two or three days later, his party leader contradicted his review. Despite that he had not personally participated in the discussions, he declared Saint Lucia “the worst prepared” to combat the virus—by which, advertently or not, he pronounced his second in command a tartuffe.
We need not detail the disdain showered on the prime minister for every action by his government to protect the country from the coronavirus that already had claimed thousands of lives in China, the United States and the UK. Never before had the matter of constitutional rights been as widely discussed, thanks in large part to opposition leaning media outlets opposed to state of emergency restrictions. Every promise of COVID-related assistance by a campaigning Donald Trump to his countrymen was echoed around our own impoverished island, accompanied by mindless encouragement to make near impossible demands on our meager treasury. Income support applications came in from all quarters.
Never before had there been as much demonstrated interest in the operations of the National Insurance Corporation. Not unexpectedly, there were bellicose voices of opposition to every government project, regardless of when undertaken. Some demanded that funds conditionally borrowed for specific purpose be used instead as relief for the poor, the sick, the unemployed, and businesses long on the brink. In the season of elections logic and reason had never stood much chance against desperation and fear, warranted and otherwise.
It was bad enough when the island could congratulate itself on the effectiveness of its COVID-19 protocols—despite the blatant efforts at sabotage by known opponents of the administration. There were protest demonstrations, north and south, that challenged the efforts of the chief medical officer. When the prime minister carelessly permitted himself to be pictured sans masque at gatherings, detractors labeled him pharisaic and unfit to lead. Every COVID-related smart bomb fired at Donald Trump by the American media was quickly rerouted to target the prime minister.
The CMO was excoriated, on the baseless premise that she was more loyal to Allen Chastanet than to her oath of office. Unfounded reports were widely disseminated by sections of the media about the island’s quarantine arrangements—as well as the government’s desperate decision to welcome tourists from the United States, epicenter of the pandemic. And then, came the opposition party’s protest demonstration, first advertised in July with the promise it would be the largest ever seen in Saint Lucia, further “proof of the power of the St. Lucia Labour Party.”
Just days earlier, opposition MPs had walked out while the House was debating an urgent COVID-19 Prevention & Control Bill. A scheduled related Senate sitting had to be canceled for lack of a quorum, thanks to the coincidental absence of opposition and reportedly sick independent senators. Temporary replacement senators had to be sworn in before the COVID bill passed into law.
The opposition was handed another ticket to ride when the government announced new measures to discourage illicit sea traffic to and from COVID-ravaged Martinique, including a week’s suspension of regular fishing here. The anticipated fall-out was not to be. Before the end of the week the fishers’ representatives met with government officials. Arrangements satisfactory to both sides were adopted, reportedly without rancor.
In March there were just four active cases. On September 25, the announced figure was 27. Two weeks after the October 4 opposition rally, the official number of active cases was 28. By 4 November 73 cases had been recorded. As I write two deaths have been attributed to COVID-19, with 60 active cases hospitalized and some 600 in quarantine. There has been no official announcement as to what may be responsible for the rapid increase—but the usual bad news bears are busy speculating and recommending their gwen en bas feuille panaceas, including the once decried lockdowns and “unconscionable” curfews. Some are making suspicious demands on the prime minister to ban all flights from the United States, even as they give thanks to the devil that forced Boris Johnson controversially to lockdown the United Kingdom, next to the U.S. Saint Lucia’s main source our tourism dollars.
The following from a familiar tale comes to mind: “My dear turtle friend,” laughed the scorpion, “if I were to sting you, you would drown and I would go down with you and drown as well. Now where’s the logic in that?”
“You’re right,” said the turtle, “hop on.”
We know only too well how that story ended. Hopefully it won’t be long before our warring homegrown Lilliputians learn that when we engage one another in lose-lose battles we only create bigger problems—for ourselves.
This article first appeared in the November 2020 edition of the STAR Monthly review, available here: https://issuu.com/starbusinessweek/docs/star-monthly-review-01
