State dependence at independence

Here comes a merchant from the conglomeracy. If you give him a container of artificial powder from Miami, artificial juice, to fill up plastic bottles, feed to our youth, our infants, he will do just that. Not all of them. But some.

Here comes a contractor from the contractocracy. If you tell him to grade up the Northern Range, fill up the sea. He will do just that.

It’s a job, don’t blame me, I have to feed my family. Not all of them.

But some.

Here comes an officer from the bureaucracy. With a wink and a nod, he will take a tip, sign a form, for a little penny. The contract for the quarry, highway, licence and so on. Not all of them. But many.

Here comes a consultant from the technocracy. The educated elites. The professional consultancies.

You could put Christ on a cross, stone him, and they will pass by. Sorry. Can’t stop. Have to feed my family, pay mortgage, fund my son’s degree. The validating elites. Not all, but many.

After taking all the telephone calls from the various estates, the conglomeracy, the contractocracy, the bureaucracy, the technocracy, after their various entrances and exits, after they have corked up ears with their requests, admonitions, indictments, does the Prime Minister have ears for the rest of us? That is the question. Can he be or not be? Do our Prime Ministers have ears for the lands, people and communities of all of TT, or to use a former Prime Minister’s phrase, for only the “parasitic oligarchy”? Hmmm. Let us see.

Debe to Mon Desir is a test case. Let us see if our PM will listen to the voices of independence: Dr James Armstrong and his committee of scientists; to the Inter-American Development Bank scientists; to the scientists of the Institute of Marine Affairs; to the economist Mary King, the trade unions, others, who have called for an audit into this collapsed, wasteful, destructive project? Or will he listen to the voice of permanent dependence: the conglomeracy, the contractocracy, the bureaucracy, the technocracy, or, to use the umbrella word, the plantocracy.

Life is not easy for our Prime Ministers. Every five years we anoint them with our votes, and put them on the spot, the spotlight, between the devil and the deep blue sea. But those whom we have anointed, the Gods curse with telephone calls and doorbells.

If our Prime Minister allows the contractocracy to twist his neck, like a bull under a yoke, and not reroute Debe to Mon Desir, it would be a clear signal that Parliament must surely be rerouted.

Reconfigured. All. Not half. All Parliament must go.

If our Prime Ministers and Parliaments are not independent, independent-minded, the office of State, official State power, will never be independent.

WAYNE KUBLALSINGH Highway Reroute Movement