A long week of power politics

“A week is a long time in politics,” remarked the late Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson. What he would have thought about the fast-moving events in Britain’s political arena last week can only be guessed at. Even Guyanese, who after all are not lacking in political credentials, have been somewhat flummoxed by the happenings in the former colonial power which once held sway over this patch of planet.

First we had a prime minister who took an unconscionable gamble with the nation’s future simply in order to appease the right wing of his own party.  Following on from that, he was then left in the almost unheard of position of going to the country on a fundamental issue of policy with key members of his government campaigning against him, when the norm is to have a unified government and party stance before an approach to the electorate.

Then there are the Brexiteers, who had absolutely no plan in place if they won – leaving a total vacuum in terms of policy. Perhaps some of them saw opportunities in the rearrangement of Britain’s political topography which would give scope for their personal ambitions, leading them to behave as if they were in a high school debate, rather than committed to the complex task of drafting Britain’s future.

Certainly Guyanese parties would have handled David Cameron’s situation at least, with greater dexterity, if not more ruthlessness, by simply dismissing naysayers from the government, and even, perhaps, evicting them from the party if necessary. Desmond Hoyte was not above expelling high profile figures from the PNC, and neither has the PPP been reticent about effectively forcing out executive committee members, among others, most recently in Bharrat Jagdeo’s time. Certainly it is difficult to imagine either of the two ‒ before the advent of the coalition, that is ‒ allowing members to take an anti-government line on a pivotal policy issue without inflicting consequences, although they would tolerate it on matters of conscience.

In addition, after the PNCR and the PPP/C co-operated in rare fashion a few years ago, it is also no longer possible for an MP to cross the floor or operate as an independent without losing his seat. That is because of the party list system, which gives leaders unusual control over their members of parliament that a British prime minister does not have.

The coalition, of course has introduced a new dimension into the formerly rigid Guyanese political framework, and we have yet to learn what happens when unbridgeable cracks appear in the cobbled-together structure. As it is, however, there appears so little central direction in terms of policy, that several of the ministerial units seem as if they might even be acting as independent agents. There were certainly many promises made prior to last year’s election, some of which were clearly rash. However, while the coalition is a long way from the vacuum of the Brexiteers,  after a year the population would like to see a more coherent, integrated vision for the future.

As for the British, no one is too sure what is going on. On the night of the Brexit count, it was made public that a healthy number of Tory MPs had signed a letter saying Prime Minister David Cameron should stay, even if he lost the referendum. On being asked his opinion as to whether the PM could stay on in such circumstances, Scottish Nationalist MP Alex Salmond responded drily, “Fat chance.” And indeed Mr Cameron did the obvious and, it might be added, the honourable thing, and announced his immediate resignation once the result was known.

The same cannot be said for the Labour Leader, Jeremy Corbyn, who is looking increasingly weak and bumbling, after two-thirds of his MPs expressed no confidence in his leadership. That notwithstanding, he refuses to step down, seemingly secure in his conviction that the party outside the House of Commons wants him to stay. In the case of the Labour Party, it is the party membership, not the MPs, who choose the leader. Mr Corbyn intends therefore, to bow to what he assumes is their wish, seemingly oblivious of the impossible situation he has created for himself, where an overwhelming majority of his MPs do not want to work with him. It is a mystery as to how he believes he can serve the interest of those who voted Labour with such a deeply fractured parliamentary membership.

Guyana knows a thing or two about easing leaders out too. Bypassing the complexities of the earlier years, there is the case of the musical chairs involving Samuel Hinds, in connection with Janet Jagan’s resignation from the presidency, in order that the man handpicked to be her successor, Mr Jagdeo, could accede to office. For his part, Robert Corbin resisted pressure to resign from some segments of the PNCR for some time. He did eventually step down, however, albeit retaining considerable influence in the party’s councils and in its arrangements for choosing a successor.

But as for politicians stepping down when circumstances demand it, we are not very good at that at all. There is little sense in this country that ‒ for want of a better term ‒ gross impropriety or failure would require resignations – although as said above, Mr Corbin did eventually give way after losing two elections. Charles Kennedy of the Liberal Demo-crats in the UK relinquished the leadership of his party immediately his alcohol problems became public, but alcoholic over-indulgence is unlikely to represent a threat to any politician’s career in this country.

And as for other kinds of ‘improprieties’, there is Minister Volda Lawrence still ensconced in her ministry after dismissing the child molestation allegations against Winston Harding as a “family issue.” She will not be moved, despite repeated calls by child rights groups for her resignation. And there is Mr Harding, still a city councillor because APNU+AFC have not seen fit to recall him in circumstances where he does not have the gumption to know that he should give up his position. Other examples are clearly not lacking from previous governments.

In terms of machievellianism, the politicians and their associates in this country are not without their qualifications, but then neither, it seems, are those in the UK. There is Michael Gove ‘stabbing’ his Brexit colleague, Boris Johnson in the back, effectively forcing him out of the Conservative leadership race. After supporting Mr Johnson to become leader all along, Mr Gove suddenly let it be known last week he lacked the confidence that Mr Johnson was leadership material, and therefore he would be standing as a candidate for leader himself. The British press had a field day unravelling the full nature of the conspiracy. Those close to Boris Johnson dubbed it the “cuckoo nest plot”, but according to the BBC the European press waxed more literary, one newspaper carrying the headline: ‘Et tu Brute’. Other publications gave it a darker complexion, seeing intimations of Macbeth.

Mr Gove’s double dealing and the machinations of others in the political cast may not pay off, since Home Secretary Theresa May is still ahead as the bookies’ favourite to win. But she had her own swipe to make at the hapless Mr Johnson. “Boris negotiated in Europe” she said when launching her own bid; “I seem to remember last time he did a deal with the Germans, he came back with three nearly-new water cannon.”  If Mr Johnson managed three nearly-new water cannon which work, then he is clearly well ahead of the game in the eyes of Guyanese, who got one water cannon which didn’t work. And the Minister who conducted those water cannon negotiations did not resign, nor was he subject to sanctions.

If British politics has always looked so orderly from outside, the chaos of the last week has demonstrated that what motivates human beings is the same everywhere, and that the lure of power can cause many people to behave in ways they would not if they were ordinary office workers with no expectation of great advancement. The lesson is the same as it always was: voters, no matter where they live, have to be vigilant and hold their representatives to account. The ambition for power (or the need to hang onto it) corrodes the capacity for good sense and decent behaviour everywhere.