This week I decided to write about something I am looking forward to—the premiere of the movie Dune. The inspiration came from a friend, who, knowing my eagerness, jokingly challenged me to write a column about it. Well… challenge accepted.
The movie is based on a novel by the same name written by Frank Herbert (p.1965). While it’s a science fiction story, it also combines political intrigue, the pursuit of revenge, ecology, and the dangers of religious fanatism and messianism.
To keep things spoiler-free, I am going to be vague with the details and avoid using names.
The story centres on a teenaged prince from a royal house in an interstellar empire. He’s arrogant and naïve, but tutelage from his mystic-mother has imbued him with special abilities. On the emperor’s orders, his family is sent to a planet to harvest a resource, the most-valuable commodity in the known universe. The resource is found on this one planet—an inhospitable desert world known as…Dune.
Unfortunately for the prince’s father, a Duke, it’s all part of a treacherous scheme. A rival house, conspiring with the emperor, seeks to eliminate him and seize control of the harvesting operation. After fleeing for their lives, the prince and his mother find refuge with Dune’s native inhabitants. These people, tempered into deadly fighters by the harsh desert environment, are also deeply religious, with a prophecy that an off-worlder, the son of a mystic-mother, will come to lead them to freedom.
I re-read this book in anticipation of the new film. And I must admit that my eagerness has turned into an obsession, for I started seeing Trinidad and Tobago—it’s politics and its people—in the sands of Dune. Brace yourselves…things are about to get “Weirding” (if you’re a fan you got that pun).
From the brief exposition, you might assume that I’m going to equate the two houses to our political parties, the emperor to the one-percenters, and the desert inhabitants to our citizens. Such a comparison would be oversimplistic, and could apply to most Western democracies plagued by partisanship. But what struck me on my recent re-reading of Dune was how it challenged my perception of the “goodies”. How the actions of the main characters were not altruistic…but self-serving.
The Duke goes to Dune hoping that the wealth and power he’ll gain could put him on the imperial throne. The prince’s mother assumes the sacrosanct role in the prophecy to ensure her and her son’s safety. And the prince, after being hailed as khan, uses the planet’s inhabitants to fulfil his quest for revenge. They all have an agenda—and it’s not to help the people.
Does that sound familiar to what goes on in T&T?
I’ve written previously about the grotesque irony of the lifestyles of our elected officials. How they enjoy taxpayer-funded healthcare and protection while failing to provide equitable services for the taxpayers themselves. As such, I no longer refer to them—our members of parliament and senators—as “public servants”, because the agenda they serve is their party’s. And the reward for toeing the line is to be granted offices that allow them to access privileges and perks.
For example, in July, MP Moonilal criticised his parliamentary counterparts for using the vehicle tax exemption, accusing them of being tone-deaf to the economic hardships of citizens. It colossally backfired when it was revealed that he too had used the exemption. Worse yet, Senator Lutchmedial, a political neophyte, offered a lacklustre defence of her colleague by admitting that she had also applied for the exemption, citing it as a benefit she was entitled to. So while they get to avoid some taxes, you still must pay all of yours…along with their salaries and benefits.
This attitude even applies to the “activists” in the national community. Take the recent brouhaha incited by Inshan Ishmael over the Prime Minister’s use of obscene language in a private email concerning forex availability. Mr Ishmael’s primary concern was his business interests; he only became morally indignant about the “tens of thousands suffering” after being insulted. Furthermore, it’s no secret that Mr Ishmael has a habit of switching political allegiances. This is his prerogative. But it was highly suspicious that he received a special land grant from the incumbent PNM government after supporting it in the 2015 election. If this was indeed a reward, it only proves that everyone has a price.
It’s all too familiar to see those in power, and those connected to power, finding ways of enriching themselves at the people’s expense. That’s one lesson that Dune taught me—to be wary of those who claim to act in your best interests. But the novel contains a profound statement as well.
“Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens.” This country has been asleep for too long; lulled by the perverse dream that party loyalty is all that matters. The teenaged prince in the story, despite his agenda, adapts as the situation demands. We need to do the same if we are to be free of political manipulation. For those who watch Dune, I hope you enjoy it. I undoubtedly will. And, to the fans—YA HYA CHOUHADA! Long live the fighters!