Winford James
The crash of the PDP (Progressive Democratic Patriots) in office on December 1 was not entirely unexpected. Sixteen (16) out of a possible seventeen (17) PDP Assemblymen and Councillors–Watson Duke was the odd man out–declared in a joint press release that they were thereby resigning from the PDP and–not but–that they would ‘continue to serve the people of Tobago’ as independent members of the Tobago House of Assembly.
Further, Deputy Chief Secretary Faith B Yisrael stated that she was giving Chief Secretary Augustine her full support, and all the other assemblymen said they were giving Augustine and Yisrael their full support.
It was a complete and definitive severing of political ties with Duke, who would admit that he was surprised by the move, which he labelled ‘cowardly’, even though he had often called on them to resign before they actually did.
But a few weeks before the momentous act, he had committed his own game-changing acts, including the following:
Public blasting Augustine for not doing enough to financially bail a Roxborough cultural group out of the doldrums they had fallen into in America.
Firing his three Tobago deputy political leaders–Augustine, Yisrael, and Alicia Roberts-Patterson.
Resigning from the position of Deputy Chief Secretary and moving to the side of the Opposition in the House from where he lambasted his erstwhile political colleagues.
Telling everyone that he owned the PDP.
Calling on the 16 to resign from the PDP.
On the eve of the elections last December (just a year ago), he had, in Roxborough and at Rovanel’s guest house, announced that Augustine would be Chief Secretary and he Deputy Chief Secretary if the PDP were to win. He knew that the ‘people of Tobago’ did not want him as Chief and he sensed that the PDP would have lost the elections had he been presented to the people as such. But not long after the victory, it became clearer and clearer that he wanted the coveted post and was prepared to wrest it from Farley during office. Three of the bases of his position were: 1) Farley was publicly disrespecting him; 2) Farley and his executive had abandoned the PDP mandate; and 3) Farley was not allowing the party to direct the policies of the Executive Council.
In the process, he belittled the rest of his erstwhile political colleagues in the House. I suspect that the last straw for them was his autocratic shaming declaration that he owned the party.
Now if your political leader told everybody that he owned the party that you helped to build and whose electoral success you know you contributed mightily to, and he did this on the heels of unceremoniously stripping the Tobago deputies of their offices, could you stay on? If you were to stay on, what is the democracy you would hold on to?
The mass resignations send critical messages, but two are especially powerful. One is that all the assemblymen in the House have rejected Watson. (I include the PNM ones since they are a priori opponents of the PDP, and their leadership, national and Tobagonian, are also on record as rejecting him.) And the second is that the rejection of the self-minted independents in the House is now conflated with that of the electorate.
Watson now wants the independents gone from the House. He has called upon the Presiding Officer Abby Taylor to declare their seats vacant and, accordingly, for fresh elections to be held. He thinks that there are both legal and ethical bases for his stance.
The legal argument is in essence that, in the absence of authority in either the THA Act or the Assembly Standing Orders (which do not recognise political parties), the Presiding Officer should have recourse to the Standing Orders of the House of Representatives (which do). But, as many commentators have pointed out, there is nothing in THA legislation that authorises fresh elections; and so the Presiding Officer has no motivation or legal basis to invoke the HoR Orders. Indeed, a proper reading of the THA Act strongly indicates that premature fresh elections are dependent on a voluntary resolution by the House to dissolve itself.
The ethical argument is that, if you are elected under the banner of a party, it is immoral (or unethical) for you to leave that party or change allegiance and stay elected; the reason is that, from a democratic point of view, the party, not the individual, is paramount, because of candidate dependence on its image and other resources. The argument has merit if practice and tradition have produced behaviours like resignation, as well as a body of thought and discourse on the issue in our jurisdiction. But that is clearly not the case.
Indeed, the development that has brought this matter into focus is the resignation from a party not of a single individual but of everybody except the political leader of that party. It is as if the resignations were from the leader and not the party!
And then there is the matter of candidate resources and relationship with the constituency, which some feel must count for something. Indeed, the candidate is ostensibly the leader of the process by which a party creates mechanisms of democratic representation in the constituencies.
Questions that arise that are pertinent to our practice of law and ethics include the following:
Should we stick resolutely to the practice of making the political leader of a successful party the chief executive in government?
How do we treat in law with a matter such as the one under question?
If neither the party nor their Executive in the House have established consultative structures in themselves, should we use the law to force them to do so?
But as we move forward, it is clear the rift in the PDP cannot be healed.
