Qui tacet consentire videtur, ubi loqui debuit ac potuit
(He who is silent is taken to agree; he ought to have spoken when he was able to)
(He who is silent is taken to agree; he ought to have spoken when he was able to)
— Latin proverb
Faithful readers (all three of you, lol): Yeah, Yeah. It’s been about 13 months since I laced up my blogging sneakers and started dropping high, arcing knowledge bombs from the political three-point line. Yeah, Yeah, I ignored your repeated calls and emails for me to get back in the game. But I’m like Derrick Rose, baby: I take a year off. . . take a week off. . . it’s all on my time. I return when my body tells me its time.
I almost came back to dissect Arnhim’s discovery of his testicles (dissing Sir James like that was an act of balls, not brains). I was tempted to come off the bench to break down Jomo’s decision to jump into the deep end after a decade of dangling his big toe in the kiddie pool. Even before all that, I had a few thoughts to share about Luke’s Building & Loan bombshell, and the (insane or inspired?) decision to run Ben Exeter in Central Leeward. But I stayed in the gym, waiting for a particularly epic moment of political excitement or tragicomedy to make my triumphant return to the blogosphere.
On January 21st, 2014; at about 11:45am, the moment arrived.
To recap: The Budget debate was unfolding as it always does – Comrade had done his usual 4-hour presentation of the major themes in the $900 million bill, while simultaneously baiting Arnhim into a defense of austerity. Arnhim, in reply, was bobbing and weaving, peppering the budget with light jabs, presumably as a prelude to the knockout punch he planned to deliver in the later rounds.
Then. . .
Nothing.
Halfway into what was expected to be a 4-hour presentation, Arnhim said “I’m obliged,” took his seat and didn’t get back up. He was done.
Wait. what?
This wasn’t “What’s my name?” With Ali and Foreman. This was Roberto Duran telling Sugar Ray Leonard “No Mas” and staying on his stool in the eight round of a 15 round bout.
Arnhim Eustace, NDP-anointed economic guru, Prime Minister in waiting, just sat down – two hours into a scheduled four hour presentation.
Now, let’s put this in perspective: The NDP’s central attack on the ULP government is that the economy is in shambles. That there aren’t enough jobs. That there is no coherent plan for growth. That the ULP is investing in the wrong things. And Eustace, for all his negatives and limitations, is (curiously) viewed in some quarters as being a top-flight economist and leading budgetary light. So, all of this begs the question: If your area of expertise is budgetary matters, AND your party’s focus is economic matters, AND the whole country is watching and listening, why wouldn’t you take full advantage of your allotted time?
WHOSE FAULT IS IT?
Now we have to suffer through competing claims about whose fault it was that the debate – scheduled for one week and 21 speakers – ended after a couple hours. Arnhim & Co., who decided to (1) not speak and (2) walk out of Parliament, say it’s the Government’s fault for not “speaking first” and waiting for the NDP to “set the agenda.” “We [NDP] didn’t speak, because they [ULP] didn’t speak first,” goes the argument. “They didn’t say anything, so we had nothing to respond to.”
THIS is the Budget, not what 'Gomery Daniels says after lunch |
The Comrade and his ‘copybooks’ counter by saying. “Um, did you happen to miss the 700-page Estimates of Revenues and Expenditure we presented a month ago? The book with each ministry’s expenditure broken down by chapter? The one with pages of “Results Indicators” that said what we planned to do, department-by-department? Did you read it? – Well, THAT’S the budget that you respond to, not what we say in a debate!”
The NDP point to Ralph’s statement, during his budget presentation, that his line ministers will explain their individual ministries further. The ULP point right back to Arnhim, who said he wasn’t dwelling with many of the issues in the budget, because his lieutenants and shadow ministers will break it down themselves.
Arnhim says this is to be blamed squarely on the ULP. Sir James – the “acolyte” – puts it at the NDP’s feet. Jomo says “the people know who failed them.”
Maybe I’m not bright enough to suss out all the high-minded spin doctoring going on here. But this isn’t the NDP’s fault. It’s not the ULP’s fault either.
It’s Arnhim Eustace’s fault. Plain and simple. It’s not a party issue. It’s an Arnhim issue.
Here’s what happened: No one expected Arnhim to finish speaking so early. No one on the Government side, and certainly no one on the Opposition side. Arnhim was scheduled to speak for four hours, from 9am to 1pm. He didn’t. He started at 9:30 and went to 11:30. In the stunned confusion on both sides, in the bewildered hesitation of BOTH parties saying “did he really just sit down after only 2 hours?” Everyone looked at everyone else, nobody moved, and the moment for action passed.
That’s it.
What's not clear about this? |
Look at what the Standing Orders say about speaking times in the Budget:
62(4). In a debate on the Annual Financial Statement and budgetary proposals the following time limits shall be observed:–
(a) The Prime Minister, if he is not the Minister of Finance, 4 hours
(b) The Leader of the Opposition or Member of the Opposition side who speak first, 4 hours.
(c) Ministers,……………………………. 1¼ hours
(d) Other Members,…………………... 45 minutes
(e) The Minister of Finance in concluding the debate,.. 3 hours
The Standing Orders list those times as “time limits”, but anyone who watches the Budget knows that these are prescribed times. No one sits down early. The talk right up until the Speaker say’s ‘time’s up’ and orders them to their seat.
Until Arnhim’s “No Mas” moment.
Now, take it from someone who watches these Budgets: Everyone likes an audience for their presentation, so they plan their presentation time. Arnhim brought in friends and supporters to fill the “strangers gallery” while he spoke. Every government minister tells their staff what time they plan to speak, so that the room will be packed with lowly ministry functionaries, who are all too glad for the excuse to be out of the office. Every opposition politician calls his main constituents and tells them when they’re going up to bat, so that there is a friendly gallery of supporters to pander to.
Everyone does it.
Now, imagine you are Minister “A” or Opposition MP “B”. You’ve told your supporters/staff to come hear you speak “after lunch” or “first thing Wednesday morning.” It’s all planned. It’s informally agreed and mapped-out with fellow colleagues and comrades.
Then here comes the first domino, tumbling inelegantly, and prematurely, out of place, and screwing up the plan. Whose fault is it? That first domino. Sure, maybe someone could have – should have – jumped up and filled the gap left by Arnhim’s premature budgetary ejaculation. (According to Freud, “rapid ejaculation is a symptom of underlying neurosis. The man suffers unconscious hostility toward women, so he ejaculates rapidly, which satisfies him but frustrates his lover, who is unlikely to experience orgasm that quickly”. Knowing Arnhim’s hostility towards Ralph, ole’ Sigmund may be onto something!). But the only person who was quick enough on their feet was the Comrade, who – despite probably not expecting to wrap-up until Friday – was able to speak off-the-cuff for an hour longer than Arnhim’s prepared remarks.
There was no strategy on either side here. If you believe this went according to some master plan, you’re crazy. Look at the collection of egos on either side of that Parliament: You think any group of them could be convinced to forego an hour-long monologue in the national spotlight? Really? Then why were they all there with so many books, scribbling notes furiously? What were they preparing for?
Arnhim screwed up, and no one was prepared for the possibility of his screw up but Ralph. That’s what happened. Nobody can tell me otherwise.
WHO E HUT, E HUT
Now that I’ve convinced you this is all Arnhim’s fault, the question is: Who does this debacle hurt more, from a political perspective? The ULP, who have preaching good governance, transparency and “lifting the game” to a skeptical public, or the NDP, the party billing itself to an equally doubtful SVG as the more effective stewards of the economy?
That’s easy.
The NDP get one shot per year at having 10 hours of nationally-televised criticism of the government. They used a mere 2 of those 10 hours. If d’Comrade calls the election before next year, as many assume, that would’ve been their last, best chance to mount such a sustained Parliamentary assault on the Government agenda.
To pass that up is political insanity.
First, if Arnhim wasn’t inclined to use all four his time, he could’ve let someone else open the batting (You think Linton wouldn’t want to expound for four hours? How about Cummings?) But even if he wanted to sit down after only two hours, don’t you think he should’ve given his team an advance heads-up? If he’s simply said to them that morning: “Guys, I’m only gonna talk ‘til about 11:00am, makes sure one of you is ready to step up if none of the copybooks take the floor” – you can bet your bottom dollar that the debate would’ve run all the way to Friday.
This is a 2000-year old principle |
Second, it’s like Tomas More said in A Man for All Seasons:
The maxim is "Qui tacet consentire": the maxim of the law is "Silence gives consent". If therefore you wish to construe what my silence betokened, you must construe that I consented.
In other words: During the Budget, speak now or forever hold your peace. You have not objected to anything in the Budget. You didn’t even stick around to vote against it. Silence is consent. Every time the NDP raises a budgetary issue or query, the ULP rejoinder will be “Oh? You raising that issue now? Why didn’t you raise it during the Budget?” And what can you do at that point? Make some effete call for “mature, reasoned debate”, like Gonsalves Jr. and the wannabe-philosophical crowd? Or bow your head, lick your wounds, and mutter “Arnhim really screwed this up” to yourself?
You decide.