FRIENDS, TRINIS, COUNTRYMEN

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them.
The good is oft interred with their bones.
So let it be with Caesar.” William Shakespeare — “Julius Caesar”

That sentiment, expressed by Mark Antony, at the funeral of Julius Caesar, may have been true in ancient Rome. However, in modern-day Trinidad — less so in Tobago — if there is no good or noble deed to “live after them,” we will invent or create one, if not many.

We have developed a code where we simply do not ill speak the dead, the fallen, the disgraced, or any other scamp who has finally gotten his just desserts. No matter how justified the truth might be, we seek every reason to avoid it, and instead state how kind, how honest, or how patriotic some scamp may have been.

The former prime minister and, until very recently, Leader of the Opposition and Chairman of the United National Congress, was recently convicted on a criminal charge — committed while he was prime minister — and sentenced to prison for two years. In most countries, the jailing of an Opposition Leader will see thousands pouring onto the streets to protest. The total absence of any spontaneous show of “support” for Basdeo Panday is a clear indication that the majority of people in this country are tired of the blatant ongoing corruption by politicians, and felt that the verdict was just and correct. Sycophant UNC supporters argued that Panday was “singled out” and that others had also failed to properly declare their assets, incomes or “gifts.” That may well be true, and it may not be fair — but that does not make Panday “not guilty.”

The other argument — and this supported by some neutral commentators — was that the two-year sentence was “unduly harsh.” In what way please? If some police constable was found guilty of a white-collar crime, and sentenced to two years in prison, who among us would argue for leniency?

We would argue that the public needs to have trust in the police service, and that — with so much corruption perceived in the police service — we “must make an example” of those found guilty. And do we not put trust in prime ministers and Members of Parliament? These people who seek our vote, who promise to root out the corruption of the previous regime, who take an oath to serve us honestly — we must ease them up when they betray us, betray their oath and betray their families?

Neither Basdeo Panday, nor any of his supporters, showed any vestige of remorse, regret, apology or excuse at any time before, during or since the trial. I see no cause — other than the appeal Court dismissing the conviction — for a reduction in the sentence.

We also had those who wrote to the media, suggesting that the President ought to grant a pardon to Basdeo Panday because of Panday’s forty years of service to the country. A pardon — no less? My reaction to this is that it will create a precedent, so that all Members of Parliament, particularly those currently before the courts, will be pardoned. I suggested this possibility two weeks ago.

And what is this “history of forty years of service to the country?” As laid out in the media, Basdeo Panday’s public life is a chronicle of bacchanal, betrayal and intrigue. By his own proud admission, he “would sleep with the devil” to achieve his goals. In terms of personal integrity, he claims proudly that “politics has a morality of its own” and while he was the PM, he publicly told his critics that “none shall escape unscathed.”

Panday has publicly fallen out of every alliance of which he was a part, from his Trade Union days, up to the present, as he goes to war with Winston Dookeran — a man, who as far as we know, neither sought the St Augustine seat nor the leadership of the UNC. Both were given to him by Panday. Panday fell out with the NAR government of which he was a part. In 1997, he re-created an alliance with ANR Robinson, in order to become PM, then fell out with Robinson after buying two PNM MPs (for $3 apiece — according to Panday himself!).

As prime minister, he immediately abandoned his support base and became a whole-hearted member of the “parasitic oligarchy” — a phrase he had earlier coined to describe the rich and influential. His regime has gone down in history as being more corrupt than the PNM in the heyday of O’Halloran and Prevatt. But to me his crowning disgrace came at the time of the 1990 insurrection, he did not attend Parliament and even after the murders in Parliament, and the plight of the hostages became known, he never offered comfort or support to the nation under siege. When contacted his comment was — “wake me when it’s over.” Manning too, refused to offer support or sympathy to the country.

Now, I am not writing this because he is “down,” and we should be all sympathetic about that. All of the above is well known to all of us — and I have said it all before. So don’t expect any sympathetic eulogy on Panday’s political life from me.

It should have ended there, but it has not. By the time this is published the charade of Panday’s “resignation” will have played itself out. I am disappointed, but not surprised, to hear Kamla say she would not accept the “resignation.”

What, may I ask, would have been the reaction of Kamla and the UNC if Manning refused to accept the resignation of Party Chairman Franklyn Khan? And Khan has not been convicted yet! Panday’s “resignation” should not only be accepted — it should have been demanded. Sympathy for any other position shows how morally bankrupt our politics has become.

And let me assure you that if Patrick Manning were to resign or be deposed as king, or had to undergo surgery at the hands of a “UNC surgeon,” my eulogy on his political life would be no different.

Now repeat after me if you can — “and so say all of us!”