?More than an alert, Prof Selwyn Ryan may well have sounded an alarm when, in his weekly newspaper column of June 15, 2009, he said, inter alia, that "Trinidad and Tobago in fact already has an 'executive presidency' which masquerades as if it were an expression of the Westminster model with all its assumptions about ministerial and collective responsibility and accountability (ultimate?) to Parliament." Specifically, Dr Ryan opined, "Clearly, however, it is an egregious myth to say that what we have here is cabinet government . . . there are no checks and balances and little separation of power." Now I don't want to put words in Dr Ryan's mouth but I suspect that what has riled him is not the emergence of an "executive presidency," whatever that might mean or entail, but the actualisation of a rampant "imperial presidency." Even the framers of the US Constitution were wary of this political Frankenstein.
Curiously, the framers of our post-independence Constitution seemed not to have taken into account that those lacunae in the constitution, adumbrated against the background of our peculiar social and political realities, allowed, if not facilitated, the political directorate to function as an "executive presidency"–de facto, if not de jure. For decades the cries from certain quarters about "maximum leadership, unaccountability, moral authority and political legitimacy and much else" were ignored. However, the criers and callers were largely dismissed by the authorities as visionaries engaging in intellectual callisthenics and were "babes in the woods" as far as politics was concerned. The poet Derek Walcott saw political contests as "the mad scramble at the public trough for scraps of favour," and I venture to add, much else.
Dr Williams seemed to be "monarch of all he surveyed, and "in all humility," he declared that "...some are born great, some achieve greatness, ...greatness, Trinidad style, had been thrust upon me." So it's not surprising that he scoffed at the temerity of that crowded canvas of aspiring prime ministers eyeing his throne, as he navigated cleverly–his detractors say "shamelessly"–within the political parameters. Where his political power and influence were concerned, he was the quintessential autocrat, rhetoric notwithstanding, with highly inflated democratic credentials. In my considered opinion, Dr Williams was quite happy with a constitution that was tailor-made to suit his personal style of governance and his party's return to office assured. As the folks would say, "Yuh cyah vex wid him fuh dat." But his setting up (pun intended) of the "Wooding Commission" was never taken seriously by him.
However it was inexcusable for him to pour scorn publicly on their report and debase the debate by boorish personal ad hominem attacks on them. Sir Hugh Wooding died shortly thereafter and we may never know whether Sir Hugh ever intended to dignify Dr Williams' boorish diatribe with a response. From what I gather, one of the factors that drives discussion re constitutional reform is that "the tassa and the steel pan should not only be seen together for show but should be seen to beat in unison." That said, the cornerstone of the Wooding Commission's proposals was a judicious amalgam of the "first-past-the-post" and "proportional representation" systems. Proportional representation in its purest form is likely to produce a representative administration with the perceived concomitants, "legitimacy and moral authority," for governance.
On the other hand, there's the view that PR spawns a multiplicity of ethnic, cultural, religious and other constituencies, which provide the breeding ground for all sorts of combinations and permutations of inherent fluid coalitions–thereby resulting in unstable "revolving door governments." Williams held the view that "the alternative to his political dispensation was at best bacchanal, at worst mayhem." But there's the rub. What perspective should inform the parameter of constitutional reform? Should a proposed constitution acknowledge and reflect the societal fault-lines, as they are, and set up institutions with the machinery for managing the ensuing tensions and conflicts that could otherwise tear the society apart? Alternatively, should one focus on the larger vision, thereby creating institutions that, while acknowledging legitimate societal divisions, do not legitimise or institutionalise divisiveness and antipathies.
Admittedly, all this might seem visionary, academic and quite irrelevant to the current apologists and proponents of a draft constitution that by both process and product appears designed for an all-encompassing hypothetical octopus king, as centre-piece, with many and far-reaching constitutional tentacles, whatever the appellation. What a thing! It's a question of "speak now or forever hold thy peace." Even the dull and the ignorant have their stories to tell. Fool that I am I'm unable to see how concentration of power in a single pair of hands and the scuttling of the countervailing buttresses that presumably protect our rights, freedom and patrimony advance democracy (however defined) and representative governance. Can't rely on the 36 voting fingers and 15 voting toes. Did I hear someone say neophytes and troglodytes.
