Give Panday what he wished for
Everybody has long been hearing what former prime minister and opposition leader Basdeo Panday had been wishing for – constitution reform.
At his every twist and turn, it was constitution reform, constitution reform. Believing that the country needs “racial unity,” for example, he declared in 2016: “The current Constitution is bound to encourage the politics of race, the only way forward is to change the Constitution.” He did not specify but his words will linger. As the adviser told Herod about Jesus: “He will be more dangerous after his death.”
Will the continuing rise of Mickela Panday shake up the political status quo? Will Opposition Leader Kamla Persad-Bissessar, having apparently misread the 2023 local government results, face another challenge – from inside or outside? How many aces does she hold?
The PM and his PNM government displayed political generosity, but, perhaps unwittingly, also lit a fire.
It will be challenging to establish a credible commission, its terms of reference, process and the political decision to implement its recommendations.
But it can be done, if all those from top to bottom now singing his praises and celebrating his deeds wish to honour his life. Piarco Airport or the ORTT may make it look “selfish,” possibly bringing blemish to his memory.
Greeting people outside the Red House, where her father’s casket lay, Mickela said: “My father would have preferred constitution reform rather than renaming Piarco International Airport after him.”
So why then are so many people now asking for many other things?
Even so, and apart from constitution reform, give him something that truly reflects his mission, his passion for young people, for education and the working class. Not for himself. How would the ORTT do this? In fact, it is well recorded he refused it, with reasons. Patrick Manning, too.
In this context, journalist and former editor of the National Target newspaper Ken Ali made an appropriate proposal – a university chair or a library: a union-supported chair in labour and industrial relations or a government and business-supported chair in democracy and human rights. Either would do justice to his memory. The ORTT for him is too cosmetic.
Neither Ms Mickela Panday nor the rest of family wants the Piarco Airport named after him. In fact, when he kindly appeared before the Cabinet-appointed Police Manpower Audit Committee, Panday told its eight members: “In dealing with crime, security and Parliament, we need to change the Constitution.”
Look, we have launched two Cabinet-promoted constitution reform commissions with great political fanfare – the 1972 Wooding Commission and the 1987 Hyatali Commission.
What happened? Why?
In 2016, Panday confessed “neither the prime minister nor opposition leader wants constitution reform.”
Given the state funeral, lavish praises and celebrations of Panday’s life by both PNM and UNC, will his wish be fulfilled now?
Columnist Jarred De Matas very charitably wrote: “His repeated calls for constitution reform, a style of governance set apart from our British colonial history and tailored to our specific need of representation, truly made him an undisputed post-colonial, Caribbean and visionary leader.”
Another columnist, Jonathan Bhagan, recently wrote: “The best way to honour Panday’s memory is to hearken to his voice and reform the Constitution to strengthen or democracy.”
Around all this, though, from Facebook to newspaper letters, the accusations of “neemakarams” and “hypocrisy” uncharitably filtered through. Dr Ramchand Rampersad’s letter two weeks ago was headlined “Neemakarams galore.”
Columnist and former trade union leader and MP Raffique Shah remains sceptical. However, while such “freedom of speech” views are accommodated, the question is: In the long run, how will Panday’s life and service be really remembered and recorded?
Many others are watching.
Watching who was signing and praising, Rex Chookolingo, wrote last week: “Mr Panday would not want any institutions or buildings named after him; he would not even want the posthumous ORTT.” Right.
Where did this ORTT offer come from?
Look, let’s get real. Even if Panday, senior citizen and tired soldier, had accepted the ORTT for “distinguished and significant national service,” it would have done nothing to his tired soul. Hanging it around his neck, he would still have to line up at counters, fight traffic, stumble over potholes like everybody else, and be barred from using the Priority Bus Route, while those who fail to do anything “distinguished and significant” for the country parade up and down the PBR. That’s our style.
Check how other Caricom countries – Barbados, Jamaica, Antigua, etc – treat their citizens who get the nation’s highest award.
But this is TT, which has not yet evolved either in governance or in political character.
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"Give Panday what he wished for"