When an election is shrouded in mystery

THE EDITOR: As I sit and ponder upon the announcement of the April 28 general election, there emerges an inescapable thought that TT may have just witnessed the consummate political distraction; prudently disguised, judiciously scripted, and acted upon with flawless and immaculate perfection.

Simply because, since the tolling of the bell to signal the poll, the questions that have arisen in the public sphere have seemingly centred on one former prime minister’s Shakespearean-like and theatrical escape strategy, his successor’s meteoric one-day rise to fame, the validity, legitimacy and authenticity of his subsequent election date announcement, and the series of melodramatic and histrionic posturing that preceded it.

And for a moment the audience seemed stunned and so astonished by the drama of it all that collective attention has shifted from the state of our nation, demoralised by crime, distressed by a falling and failing economy, and distraught by a general landscape of decay, destruction and societal decomposition.

In my recent memory, this is the first election in which the very act of its announcement or pronouncement has raised more questions and issues than those relevant to the ensuing campaign itself.

But having said this, if the genesis and political evolution of free and fair elections has transparency at its centre, then the perceived political imbroglio surrounding the announcement of this election should be an issue in itself, as it seemingly points to a government committed to governing in secrecy and mystery, and perhaps impolite clandestineness.

And impolite to whom? Well, towards the electorate and the people whose faith and confidence were entrusted in political contract five years ago.

Surely, there would be loud calls for a full and frank disclosure on some very pertinent questions being asked by the electorate, as this was no “ordinary” snap election, albeit called by a “snap” prime minister.

But the morality that is sometimes ascribed to politics may stymie such transparency. Accordingly, it is the electorate which would draw its own conclusion in this atmosphere of confusion and chaos.

As a voter myself, I would respectfully like to ask: What prompted this? Was this all necessary, and, if so, what made it relevant? And if it were not necessary, was this rush provoked by a need to circumvent a wider level of parliamentary accountability into a host of national issues, including a need to account for the findings, observations and report into a state of emergency, which may have triggered international travel impositions against citizens of this country?

And if answers to both of the above are inconsistent with the morality of the political truth, then surely my earlier assertion holds value, which is: was this all deliberate and scripted to shift attention?

The untold story of any election must be the triumph of democracy which sits at its very core. It never must be, or perceived to be, an assault upon or any abuse of the inherent fragility and legal loopholes within our constitutional infrastructure.

Election day stands at the tip of the mountain of democracy. Never must it become what Winston Churchill may have described as “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”

A Series of Unfortunate Events is a collection of 13 children's novels written by an American author. Had I been a novelist, I would have suggested that the calling of this election was preceded by “a series of irrelevant events."

And had I been an historian, I would have recorded a piece that would have fascinated generations to come – “that this is what it took to host an election in TT.”

ASHVANI MAHABIR

Cunupia