When the Prime Minister announced on Monday that a state of emergency had been declared in certain parts of the country, she had hoped to send a clear and direct message that the fight against the criminal element had begun in earnest. But as the days went by, we realised that the message was anything but clear and direct. Firstly, we were told that a limited state of emergency was being implemented in certain areas. By Wednesday though, the National Security Minister was at pains to explain that the state of emergency actually existed nationwide, with only the curfew restrictions being limited to the prescribed hot spot areas. Huh?
This was indeed news to the multitude. Add to that, the fact that the curfew order may not even be legal anyway-because when he signed it, Stephen Williams had not yet been formally appointed acting Commissioner, as is required by law-and we have confusion aplenty. The conflicting reports thus far, as well as the lack of clarification on the actual aims and objectives of what is in effect, the most drastic step that could be taken by any democratically elected government, give the impression of incompetence, and diminish this administration's faltering credibility even further. Is it any wonder then, that large numbers of Trinbagonians have come to view this as mere political cover for a government with an ulterior motive?
And, even though I have resigned myself to accepting the reasons given by Mrs Persad-Bissessar, Anand Ramlogan, and other members of the National Security Council at face value, I have done so with a huge amount of salt. For many years, our shambolic judicial system-police, courts, et al-have led those from across all sectors of society to believe that illegality is rarely punished in this country. The perception exists that it is only those who are very unlucky, or those who are very stupid, such as the morons who decided to go out robbing in Arima on the very day that the state of emergency was called, who get caught.
For many, this illegality extends no further than overtaking on the shoulder, driving whilst under the influence, or both. For others, it might involve the acceptance of a bribe here and there, or the slapping of an errant girlfriend every now and then to keep her in check. But, for countless others still, it will mean walking up to a complete stranger and pumping them full of lead. Where there is no fear of getting caught and/or being held to account for one's actions, people will simply do whatever their consciences allow them to get away with. We therefore need to appreciate that in a country in which endemic criminality is now a way of life for many, and not just a select few, a mere 15 days' grace will come nowhere close enough to redressing the balance now.
One can put a plaster over a pungent, worm-infested sore and cover it up for a few days, but only the foolhardy will believe that this action will in itself heal the wound. Many people view violent crime as being solely the preserve of the reprobates living in the areas that are now locked down, and will of course, welcome the government's tough stance and "zero-tolerance" rhetoric. But far too often in this country, the phrase "zero tolerance" has had different meanings for different people. It conveys one meaning if you hail from Moruga and happen to be driving in a car which the police later claim was stolen. But it means another thing entirely if you are the scion of a wealthy family from West Trinidad, and can have a murder charge against you dropped on the most spurious of technicalities.
We are already witnessing the usual suspects being rounded up and corralled into the criminal justice pen to justify these draconian measures. A few days ago, 22 people were arrested on Nelson Street and its environs following the alleged seizure of six firearms and hundreds of rounds of ammunition. No doubt, similar exercises will take place in the coming days in the Beetham, Sea Lots, Laventille, Pinto Road and other so-called hot spots, and we will once again hear about how much of a "resounding success" they all were. Before this week, I had always thought that conducting raids in problem areas, and arresting outstanding suspects in criminal matters, were part and parcel of ordinary police work that could and should be done at any time-state of emergency or not, but now I know.
The Prime Minister briefly alluded to the crux of the problem when she mentioned that there was intelligence linking the recent spate of murders in Arima to the large quantity of drugs seized from a 19-year-old local man. But, do the authorities really expect us to believe that this youth, who was employed as a baggage handler at Piarco Airport, somehow had the financial wherewithal to purchase $22 million worth of Colombian cocaine? For that to hold true, the records will have to show that he had been in well-paid employment since the age of two.
Until I can see the authorities kicking off a few hinges in Westmoorings, Glencoe, Valsayn, Gulf View and the like, and going after the Osama Bin Ladens of our criminal underworld, and not just the Taliban foot soldiers, I will not be convinced that they are at all serious about tackling the scourge of criminality that stalks our land. The streets may be quiet just about now, and free from blood, but the litmus test for this entire operation will indeed be in two weeks' time once the Regiment have returned to Teteron.