We can dream, can’t we?

As the poet surmised, “Hope springs eternal in the human breast,” and, I suppose, this also applies to politicians, political aspirants, political grasshoppers and boll weavils — forever looking for a home. So it shouldn’t surprise anyone that there are some dreamers and hopefuls out there who continue to hope and beguile themselves that, like the mystical phoenix, the National Alliance for Reconstruction is likely to rise from its ashes. But we can dream, can’t we?

Actually, the NAR is probably more akin to “Cock Robin” than the proverbial phoenix. The more pertinent issue may be: “Who killed Cock Robin, how did he die and was there much ado over what was essentially and inevitably a still birth?” As someone pointed out, the arithmetic that recommended the formation of that ungainly political concoction was plausible, the political algebra was less so and the personal chemistry (or bio-chemistry, if you like) was simply not on the cards, given the individuals that were supposed to play the major roles in the formation of the so-called “party of parties” which was supposed to herald “a new dawn in our politics with a sophisticated intellectual architecture and concomitant philosophical underpinnings.” Please forgive me, if I didn’t buy all that political claptrap and, with a brutal clarity of vision and a savage objectivity, wrote the benighted “experiment” off as a colossal hoax perpetrated on an unsuspecting public. Erstwhile bitter political rivals who had apparently buried the proverbial hatchet were subsequently only too predisposed to bury the hatchet, literally, in each other’s back. But politics being what it is and our politicians being what they are, does or rather should that surprise anyone?

Basdeo Panday’s demonstrably empty boast that he has struggled long and hard in the cause of “national unity and inter-racial harmony” is quite likely to take a new twist — with the predictable window dressing — with the dusted-off mantra that “the elder statesman has now rededicated every fibre of his being and every second of his future political life to groom a new cadre of politicians of superior calibre in order to evoke the so-called “one love” spirit of ’86 and put together that tattered dream.” I may have guessed wrong, of course, and Mr Panday may yet concede that, being a major part of the problem, he can’t be part of the solution. Besides this, Panday’s friends wouldn’t tell him and he wouldn’t believe his enemies, but the very lack of structure of the UNC which has given him a free hand to make and break political aspirants is also a source of weakness when the constituency is in disarray and the leader is not only generally seen as damaged political goods but, more than that, no one can be sure what can emerge from the political Pandora’s box and how it will play out. In retrospect, one recalls how the NAR bandwagon proclaimed the “One love” slogan (that’s what it was) from the hilltops and the valleys and criss-crossed the country knocking the then “Ali Baba and his 40 thieves.” The apparently well-oiled steamroller couldn’t be stopped by man or beast. It was simply a case of either being on the steamroller or being part of the road.

The country was caught up in a sort of political euphoria, which we had not experienced since Eric Williams burst on the political scene in 1956. However, it wasn’t long before “the party of parties” came to grief and succeeded in snatching defeat from the very jaws of victory — and, to all appearances, revelling in it. In retrospect, it would appear that the “party of parties” had never quite resolved the question of “the leader of leaders.” The electorate’s largely genuine yearning for “a one love experience” had been cynically manipulated by politicians, for whom the national interest was the least of their worries, or even concerns. Given the benefit of hindsight, those political opportunists simply took a seemingly gullible populace for a colossal ride. So all that glitz and razzmatazz that were an integral part of the “one love” campaign were, in the event, just so much glitz and razzmatazz — a hyped-up PR exercise, no more. If you wish to challenge this interpretation of events, come on in, the water’s just fine.

The NAR leadership question, contrary to what we were being told, had not been settled before the ’86 election. Even during the campaign, Mr Panday had been dropping hints, if I remember correctly, that the leader of the party need not be leader of the government (read Prime Minister). The suggestion was made in muted terms, so it might have been interpreted as a sop to Panday’s supporters to make it easier to understand and accept why Panday had conceded leadership to Robinson. One fellow who claims to have been intimately involved in cobbling the disparate units together reported Robinson as saying, “They think that they could handle me, but wait until I become Prime Minister.” Although, on the political platform, Mr Panday would wax biblical when Robinson appeared — “This is my beloved leader in whom I am well pleased” — one recalls that on the night when the NAR virtually swept the polls and the PNM into the dustbin of local history, Panday looked crestfallen, and explained his surprisingly sombre mood in terms of his being overwhelmed by the heavy responsibility that now rested on his shoulder. An equally plausible explanation was that Panday was disappointed at not having control of sufficient numbers within the government “to call the shots and flex his political muscle.” The rest is history. Panday blames Robinson for “refusing to share power,” Robinson ascribed the break-up to  inexperienced team members and their wanting to be in government and opposition at the same time. Try teaching old dogs new tricks!