5 March 1999, 899 words
The thing you have to ask yourself about the Service Commissions Bill is this: what the hell is it for?
I mean, Attorney General Ramesh Lawrence Maharaj himself has been arguing vehemently that the Bill has no real power at all. "All that it does is that it allows the committee, as representatives of the people, to scrutinize the exercise of administrative power," he declared. So if we are to believe Ramesh - this feat should not be attempted at home, or anywhere else for that matter - the logical conclusion is that the only purpose of the Bill is to give Parliamentarians a chance to boof the members of the Commissions. I can only imagine how such a scene would play:
"Listen mister, we really don't approve of that appointment you made on March 5. In fact, we think it really, really sucked. What is more, we think you should be demoted - no, no, you should be fired for making such an unsuitable appointment! We know you know we can't actually fire you and we know you know we can't even do a thing about the appointment. But we want to know how we feel. Have a nice day."
And all the Government could do thereafter would be to use their scrutiny for a 15-minute feature on InfoVision and title it "Our Parliamentarians Hard at Work" or something. And they might not even get 15 minutes of footage. If Ramesh is telling the truth (and with all the advances in genetic technology, a leopard may now actually change its spots) the only punitive measure in the Bill is imprisonment for someone not appearing before the Select Committee when summoned. But, given the literalness applied to the word 'command' by President Robinson in the Moore-Miggins affair, even that poses no great threat to an independent-minded commission member.
"Hello. I'm Mr. Baldeosingh from the Teaching Service Commission. Did you summon me to appear?"
"Yes, we did."
"OK. I've appeared. I'm going now. Bye."
And the Commission member could just leave. What could the Select Committee do? If Ramesh is telling the truth (and there was, in fact, a blue moon in January) the Bill doesn't even allow them to send a policemen to haul the Commission member back. InfoVision would have only one minute of film of Mr. Baldeosingh's head peering round the door. Wonderful footage, no doubt, given his naturally curly hair, but not enough for a proper news feature. I suppose the committee could fill the other 14 minutes badtalking the commission member and the appointee they were scrutinizing, but they run the risk of looking like a little boy who runs around singing, "Ah go tell, Ah go tell, tang-a-lang-a-lang-lang."
This, however, is not so absurd as the actual argument put forward by Ramesh to justify this Bill. "I do not understand how it is that if persons occupy public office...they do not want that power...to be scrutinized by the people who give them that power," says Ramesh. But how come the UNC didn't care to scrutinize the appointments of Susan Harrysingh or Ken Soodhoo or Vasant Barath? And did the electorate put the UNC in power so they appoint a (non-elected) Finance Minister who gets the figures wrong in every Budget? Did we give them power so they could grant multiple contracts to the Finance Minister's fellow mas-player? Did we give them power so they could make us pay InnCOGEN for electricity we may never use for the next 30 years?
You would have thought that Ramesh, with his trained legal mind, could have figured out all this. But I have a strong suspicion that the Bill wasn't Ramesh's idea, but Panday's. After all, who would more want a Bill to Boof People than Basdeo Panday? The first noteworthy thing he did after becoming Prime Minister was boof the media. Then he proceeded to boof the Opposition, teachers, the media, calypsonians, the media, trade unionists, State Board members, the media, street protesters, his own Ministers, Trinidadians in general, and the media. In fact, I have no doubt that the true reason Panday wanted to be Prime Minister was so he could get his boofs in the headlines instead of on page six.
Which is not to say I am excusing Ramesh. Trained legal mind or not, Ramesh was the one who said nothing would prevent the Bill from going forward, even after a statement signed by Noor Hassanali and five other people urged the UNC regime to desist. I am singling out Mr. Hassanali in particular because, as a satirical writer, our ex-and-still-best-President has always been a trial to me. The man, along with his wife Zalayhar, is so clearly a person of integrity, intelligence and goodwill that I have never had the opportunity or even the inclination to satirize him. And, by plowing ahead anyhow, Ramesh simply reminded everyone that he is the exact antithesis of Mr. Hassanali. Ramesh has no reputation to lose, of course, but the UNC regime has further tarnished its democratic credentials (which already needed some serious silver polish) by trying to pass this mad Bill. But we mustn't be too hasty: Ramesh may be telling the truth. I mean, it's been so cold these nights, who knows? Hell may indeed have frozen over.
Copyright ©1999 Kevin Baldeosingh