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Volume No. 2 Issue No. 4 - Monday June 11, 2007
Rivets And Windmills: Adding Policy Focus To Political Vision So That Dominica, the Caribbean Cinderella Can Finally Get Her Invitation to the Ball
By Philbert "Atley" Aaron


This paper analyzes one sector, foreign affairs. I argue that like leaders from Marcus Garvey through Michael Manley, from Maurice Bishop through Mary Eugenia Charles, Patrick Roland John, right down to Roosevelt Skerritt, a man that I am very fond of, Dominica is courting international political adventures that carry serious political and economic risks for the development of their local constituents.

This is not a new insight. Others have said so before. What I wish to do differently is to explain where this impulse for courting danger in foreign affairs comes from. Others seem to suggest that this impulse comes from the personality of the leaders, Patrick John, Eugenia Charles, Roosevelt Skerritt. I disagree.

I argue that this moth�s attraction to the flame of international intrigue comes from the level of development of the country, in other words from sheer desperation. I explain it this way.

Underdevelopment means that the political and policy structures in Dominica are fragile. To overcome their fragility, a larger-than-life leader is called for. But Jeff Joseph has already warned us:

Pawol an boosh se pa met [Talk is not boss] Se sa ou sa fe. [Action is.]

But alas, we are in a jam. Since Dominica has no army to create military heroes, the road to heroism is narrow. You cannot call yourself Colonel, invite Forbes Burnham with all those shiny brass buttons on his chest, and play military music every time you address the nation. Patrick John wize that already. So what�s left?

The easiest way to big up yourself like a booboo is to flirt with the real bad boys, the Qaddaffi, the Hugo Chavez, fellars that really killed to get into power. Then, you must talk, talk, talk, pawol chinm.

Cinderella loves sweet talkers, Patrick John, Eugenia Charles, Rosie Douglas. If they smooth, young, and pretty on the bargain, alas Papa Bondye, Cinderella�s water will come down just hearing those sweet words, O. J. Seraphine and Roosevelt Skerritt. The personal attention does not hurt either, the plane trips, the banquets, those white girls.

Once in power, the vicious cycle continues. The charismat arrives at the Ministry and realizes there is a huge void. The loneliest place in the world must be the seat of the Prime Minister of Dominica. The PM has to deliver quickly. Desperation sets in.

And to the rescue come the world hegemons, like China, the regional hegemons like Venezuela, and outlaws like Don Pierson. The Prime Minister is caught between an electorate bulging with rising expectations and foreign hegemons.

My overarching message about Dominica foreign policy is the following. For Cinderella�s sake, the Don Quixotes in office and out must get a little Marlowe. The Marlowes must get a little Don Quixote.

Were it not to mix metaphors, I would ask each to put a little water in their wine. In concrete terms, please find someone in your party who is not a clone of yours and partner with them to combine grand vision with policy focus.

You should have known this before getting into power. This was supposed to be the theory behind the structure of a permanent civil service, to have technocrats permanently homing the rivets in while the Don Quixotes rode in and out of power every five years, selling snake oil to the voters.

However, like much of the brogodow the English left us, that too, seems not to be working. While the Prime Minister is in China, it is Marlowes job to herd the cabinet.

It is something that I have been saying privately to friends for a while: we need people homing the rivets while the politicians dash off to conquer windmills. Every revolution has to be institutionalized. Every road you cut has to be paved or kod kapi and pie poul will take over. As simple as that. Bondye-o!

For example, I had long proposed that like the old Kings of Europe, Rosie Douglas, the island�s fifth Prime Minister, the quintessential Quixote would not only have a Permanent Secretary in the Ministry, but also a traveling secretary. And I said so before he became Prime Minister. Some friends of mine even made lelmi enemy with me over that.

Rosie used to disrespect the Labor Party bureaucracy. He would campaign in Austrie�s constituency, passing outbrogodow like Papa Noel without Austrie�s knowledge. I warned my friends. I told them that white people organized government such that the party structures mirror the ministries of government. You hone your management skills, your rivets, in the party and then you take it national.

Oh Papa, my Labor Party friends called me twet, they called me UWP. What they don�t call me is what they don�t remember to call me. Then when Rosie became Prime Minister and stood up on Ministry step, put his hands in his pocket and start to pass out cash money like 50 Cent in a hip-hop video on BET, they were ashamed. I just watched them asi kote.

What I was proposing, man of words that I am is that Rosie would have someone who wrote down everything he said just to keep him honest. I am not talking about boom-boom fly, hangers on with cell phones coming out of their tou zowey.

No, a secretary with note pad and pencil in hand. That way, Rosie could be reminded that unless he planned to increase the number of Senatorships, this one that he was promising to Mrs. So and So was already promised to Mr. So and So. Someone to remind him that there was already some place he had promised to be at. Someone who would have recorded the details of the shadowy transactions he had made with those elusive Middle East leaders he had courted while in opposition.

That is why when Rosie was busting his tail trying to woo Tony Astaphan into throwing his hat in the political ring, I supported it. I even proposed that Tony be made Prime Minister and asked people to imagine the kind of attention Dominica would get with that face in a room.

It would be a sign that Dominicans mature enough to stop being afraid of ghosts. It would send the message that this little floating rock is no longer a shipwreck full of ex-slaves but a nation with a rudder that is seeking development even if it means it has to ditch a few empty symbols, like color of skin.

I am talking about mixing windmills, big talk with action, rivets. That is what Yvor Nassief now represents right down to the dollar he is paid, concrete little things, zagaya.

While black fellars waving their arms, talking loud till they hoarse, making big pronouncements, taking their cue from Idi Amin, Fidel Castro, and Hugo Chavez, Yvor there attending to little things, tourism policy, bringing white people to Dominica one visitor at a time and making sure that restaurants do not serve them passionfruit juice made from concentrate while saying is fresh fruit juice from the nature island and still charge them tet neg on the bargain.

I repeat. That is what the Civil Service was supposed to represent, technocratic action, action, action. Today, thirty years after Independence, it is the ethnic minority in Dominica that keeps that tradition going. Today, black man still in the mode of national liberation warriors, seeing oppressors behind every bush, windmills! I am formalizing my thought on this now for the record and the future. The oppressor, dear friends, is now within us. Who us?

Continued - Read Part Four

Read Earlier Sections
Rivets and Windmills - Part One
Rivets and Windmills - Part Two

Comments about this article? Email:
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Volume No. 2 Issue No. 2
Morne Diablotins
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Morne Plat Pays
John in hall of fame
The tale of SMA



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