How PLP colleagues stole Ed Moxey's ideas
tribune242 editorial
IN LEAFING through the Ed Moxey files in The Tribune's archives last night, we were not surprised to find that the Coconut Grove MP's own colleagues were trying to take credit for his cultural concept - Jumbey Village. In other words, they were trying to steal Mr Moxey's own brainchild from him.
We say not surprised because the PLP came to power with a strange personality quirk -- call it what you will, some at the time referred to it as a mammoth inferiority complex. However, they seemed to want to wipe the slate clean.
To hear them talk, Bahamian history started on January 10, 1967 when the Progressive Liberal Party defeated the United Bahamian Party and for the first time in the history of these islands ushered in majority rule. For this we give them full credit. Although for generations there were many Bahamians, and even English civil servants, whose courageous decisions helped change a people's thinking to prepare the way for the historic transfer of power, as far as the PLP were concerned the past - and the men and women who were a part of it - did not exist.
And so it was not surprising that they felt that Ed Moxey was getting too big for his boots and had to be chopped down, and his creation snatched from him.
But on that day in 1967, it was Lynden Oscar Pindling who was the chosen leader for the historic change. And, although, as many -- Mr Moxey included - maintained he soon lost his way, no one can take from him that single achievement.
However, the prevailing attitude among the PLP of that day was that nothing that happened before 1967 was of importance, and anything created afterwards naturally had to have been created by them.
And so, Mr Moxey should have seen the handwriting on the wall when he formed a cultural committee, invited community leaders, including Prime Minister Pindling, and outlined his ideas for a community created "of the people, by the people, for the people." The enthusiasm to get started was so overwhelming that a few weeks later Mr Pindling (as he then was) called on Mr Moxey to "make him part of the machinery". In good faith, an enthusiastic Ed Moxey offered the prime minister the position of Parliamentary Secretary Community Development. Mr Pindling's acceptance would be the eventual kiss of death for the project.
By 1974- with the building of Jumbey Village well on the way -- ominous storm clouds started to form. That year Jumbey Village was excluded from the Budget. The Coconut Grove MP said that government's efforts to "suppress" Jumbey Village was the result of petty jealousy by individuals who felt that only they should be involved in certain national activities.
The fight was on with Tourism Minister Clement Maynard, whose Ministry was busy planning a festival site at Fort Charlotte on the same lines as Jumbey Village. This would have been the death knell for the Village and the last hope of attracting tourists with their dollars over the hill to patronise the struggling businessmen there. Mr Moxey was outraged. He said he knew nothing about the Fort Charlotte plans until he learned about the Goombay Festival -- also his idea that he envisioned for his people over the hill.
"The amazing thing," said Mr Moxey, "was that I was parliamentary secretary to the Prime Minister at the time and he was honorary chairman of the Festival, but I knew nothing about it. My name was never mentioned and when I raised hell they tried to shut me up."
Mr Moxey challenged Mr Maynard's statement that Goombay was the corporate idea of a number of people. "This is a lie," he thundered. "It was entirely my idea.
"In a letter to Prime Minister Pindling on May 15, 1974, drawing his attention to a newspaper headline that read: "New Jumbey village planned for Fr Charlotte site," Mr Moxey wrote in part:
"This is a very serious matter which may have very serious repercussions. As you may recall, sir, the Minister and Ministry of Tourism stole the Goombay programme from me and my people and sold it to foreigners who are now doing a good job in keeping it to themselves, while the people for whom it was designed are going out of business and are on the verge of starvation. Now he seems hell bent in an attempt to take the Village concept to Bay Street.
"My heart and soul are tortured," the letter continued, "my people now suffer great pain because it would appear that you and your Minister have struck a death blow to their dreams and aspirations.
"Let me remind you, sir, that we have made tremendous sacrifices to bring you and your Government to power and God's eyes are on the sparrow.
"I do humbly pray," the letter concluded, "that you use your good office and influence to restore sanity to this nation 'Now', for which you are ultimately responsible."
The Fort Charlotte plans never succeeded and Jumbey Village crumbled back into the dust from which it came.
"The Price of Being a Man, the story of Ed Moxey and the undoing of Jumbey Village and the Quiet Revolution," written and narrated by Anthony Newbold, will be shown at 8pm Sunday on Cable Bahamas -- channel 12. It commemorates the 25th anniversary of destruction of Jumbey Village.
March 27, 2012
tribune242 editorial
A political blog about Bahamian politics in The Bahamas, Bahamian Politicans - and the entire Bahamas political lot. Bahamian Blogger Dennis Dames keeps you updated on the political news and views throughout the islands of The Bahamas without fear or favor. Bahamian Politicians and the Bahamian Political Arena: Updates one Post at a time on Bahamas Politics and Bahamas Politicans; and their local, regional and international policies and perspectives.
Showing posts with label Ed Moxey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ed Moxey. Show all posts
Friday, March 30, 2012
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
...no matter how the next general election turns out: it’s still Ping who is large and in charge
Rough Cut,
By Felix F. Bethel
“…is still me…”
The Bahama Journal
Pindling told me to tell you that no matter who is nominally in charge of today’s Bahamas; is still me – Ping- who is large and in charge.
Here I tell no lie when I tell you that, Pindling himself gave me this message via dream pumped in from God-Knows- Where.
Indeed, just the other night, I had a long series of talks with Pindling.
Not only were these conversations with the Chief long; but in truth, they were all quite strange in that when I talked to him, I got the impression that while I was seeing and hearing and talking with him as one man could ever talk to another, I was quite convinced that somehow or the other, I had figured out how to cross over, have conversations not only with him but also with some of my friends, like Chris Symonnet, who –some years ago – made that cross-life journey to where God-Knows-Where.
Now since, just this morning, I woke to find myself still clothed in a semblance of my right mind, I must conclude that, I did the crossing over; that I did speak to Pindling and Chris and some other people – some of whom I know are currently half-dead.
Incidentally, that happens- you can be half-dead and of course, your demented parents can beat you half to death in their paranoia induced decision that since you are their child, they could go to heroic lengths to beat the devil out of you.
And so they tried with me.
Just the other night; that is to say just the night after one of my boys came back from a journey to a far country; I dreamed a dream; and in that dream, I found myself in the company of a mighty host of people who –interestingly- must have already been dead and gone a long time ago.
In the dream, I recognized Pindling and strangely, the old man recognized me.
Indeed I had the awesome task of presenting and introducing the beloved Pindling to a number of the people he helped make; and so in the dream I dreamed, I saw men and women in a host of guises and disguises.
These men and women – some of them now dead and gone – were alive enough in the dream I dreamed; and strangely while in the dream, Pindling was real enough to me and alive enough to me; in the dream I dreamed, no one but your beloved professor could hear or see him.
Here I can tell you that in one set of encounters that took place in the dream I had, I remember Pindling’s insight to the effect that while he might be gone in the flesh; what he had left behind on the ground in the Bahamas had now come to full fruition and flourish.
And perhaps thus: the arrival of the Aga Khan; the mercilessness of poverty and the plethora of deaths throughout our country and Kerzner and Baha Mar and the opening to Cuba and the opening to China and the wider Pacific; and the deepening of ties to the Caribbean and to the pomp and pageantry that comes with being King George VI Negroes in a time when such types constitute a fast-vanishing species.
But notwithstanding this fact of life in the real world, there they were in their serried series as I saw them eating, drinking and picking their teeth; and for sure, in the dreamscape, I saw people who are – in the new guise of their polished children – today’s movers and shakers.
While I will not name them here and now, you will recognize them by virtue of the fact that they do move and they do shake.
I suspect that, when I saw Pindling just the other night, he wanted me to deliver a message to as many of his fellow-Bahamians to the effect that they should have as little fear of the present or the immediate future because for better or worse; Is still me, [Pindling] who is large and in charge.
But to make this aspect of the story as short and as painless as possible, take note that Ed Moxey was in the dream; and so was another of my friends, Chris Symonnet; who inquired as to how his family was doing on this side.
From this I surmised that the late Pindling was caught making a surprise visit –via whatever zombie express- to share something with the professor – a something that, he just knew the professor would share with you.
And so it goes again; just the other night, I dreamed a dream and in that dream, I caught up with Pindling.
And as I caught up with a then old Pindling, the talked turned to things both personal and political; and the thing that I remember most vividly – thus this typing in the early morning of the day that came after the night when I dreamed the dream whereof I now pluck some nuggets from what seems the depths of my mind.
And now, my fellow Bahamians, we march forward to the dreamscape itself –as I can even now espy that happy terrain; and as you can imagine, the matter involving Pindling and the man he was and the shadow he left are in and of themselves stories sufficient for any number of life-times as lived by any of mine who come after and who would like to know about the days that followed in this man’s mighty wake.
As I saw in and concluded and as Pindling himself concluded in the dream I had, no matter the fact that he was dead and gone, everything in the place and space where he once ran things, continues to be run as if Pindling had never left; that he – in truth and in metaphysical fact of the matter, could not and did not leave office even though he told the Parliament that he was finished with it.
But for sure, it must have dawned on him that while he might have thought he was finished with the House and the Senate and with the pomp and with the pageantry that would come with being Caesar Pindling.
And so it has been - So said; So done ; that, in all the years between the time Pindling died and the time he came back to see me as I slept and dreamed the dream I dreamed; this country has been run by Pindling himself; but this time around in the form of two of his most loyal men – Hubert Alexander Ingraham and Perry Gladstone Christie.
Hovering somewhere in my waking consciousness is the fact – now metaphysical – that Pindling did in truth and in fact have a political brother in the guise of Cecil Vincent Wallace-Whitfield who – yet again- in the world where I would have liked to live, was the best prime minister this blighted land of mine has never had.
That is what was fated to be when Cecil died at the age of sixty in that dread year that was 1990.
As the archival record and records throughout the land and throughout the world attest and do so solemnly affirm, Pindling – the mortal man- died on August 26th. 2000.
Dust to dust; ashes to ashes.
But evidently, things do not work as neatly and as simply in the world where Caesars are made and fashioned from the materials that come with politics; namely media, money and machinations and what these can and do achieve for the people who own them and to the people whose souls and minds are so routinely bought and sold for a pittance.
And so, while this or that Bahamian might aspire to change; the fact of the matter remains: no matter how the next general elections turn out: is still Ping who is large and in charge.
December 2nd, 2010
The Bahama Journal
By Felix F. Bethel
“…is still me…”
The Bahama Journal
Pindling told me to tell you that no matter who is nominally in charge of today’s Bahamas; is still me – Ping- who is large and in charge.
Here I tell no lie when I tell you that, Pindling himself gave me this message via dream pumped in from God-Knows- Where.
Indeed, just the other night, I had a long series of talks with Pindling.
Not only were these conversations with the Chief long; but in truth, they were all quite strange in that when I talked to him, I got the impression that while I was seeing and hearing and talking with him as one man could ever talk to another, I was quite convinced that somehow or the other, I had figured out how to cross over, have conversations not only with him but also with some of my friends, like Chris Symonnet, who –some years ago – made that cross-life journey to where God-Knows-Where.
Now since, just this morning, I woke to find myself still clothed in a semblance of my right mind, I must conclude that, I did the crossing over; that I did speak to Pindling and Chris and some other people – some of whom I know are currently half-dead.
Incidentally, that happens- you can be half-dead and of course, your demented parents can beat you half to death in their paranoia induced decision that since you are their child, they could go to heroic lengths to beat the devil out of you.
And so they tried with me.
Just the other night; that is to say just the night after one of my boys came back from a journey to a far country; I dreamed a dream; and in that dream, I found myself in the company of a mighty host of people who –interestingly- must have already been dead and gone a long time ago.
In the dream, I recognized Pindling and strangely, the old man recognized me.
Indeed I had the awesome task of presenting and introducing the beloved Pindling to a number of the people he helped make; and so in the dream I dreamed, I saw men and women in a host of guises and disguises.
These men and women – some of them now dead and gone – were alive enough in the dream I dreamed; and strangely while in the dream, Pindling was real enough to me and alive enough to me; in the dream I dreamed, no one but your beloved professor could hear or see him.
Here I can tell you that in one set of encounters that took place in the dream I had, I remember Pindling’s insight to the effect that while he might be gone in the flesh; what he had left behind on the ground in the Bahamas had now come to full fruition and flourish.
And perhaps thus: the arrival of the Aga Khan; the mercilessness of poverty and the plethora of deaths throughout our country and Kerzner and Baha Mar and the opening to Cuba and the opening to China and the wider Pacific; and the deepening of ties to the Caribbean and to the pomp and pageantry that comes with being King George VI Negroes in a time when such types constitute a fast-vanishing species.
But notwithstanding this fact of life in the real world, there they were in their serried series as I saw them eating, drinking and picking their teeth; and for sure, in the dreamscape, I saw people who are – in the new guise of their polished children – today’s movers and shakers.
While I will not name them here and now, you will recognize them by virtue of the fact that they do move and they do shake.
I suspect that, when I saw Pindling just the other night, he wanted me to deliver a message to as many of his fellow-Bahamians to the effect that they should have as little fear of the present or the immediate future because for better or worse; Is still me, [Pindling] who is large and in charge.
But to make this aspect of the story as short and as painless as possible, take note that Ed Moxey was in the dream; and so was another of my friends, Chris Symonnet; who inquired as to how his family was doing on this side.
From this I surmised that the late Pindling was caught making a surprise visit –via whatever zombie express- to share something with the professor – a something that, he just knew the professor would share with you.
And so it goes again; just the other night, I dreamed a dream and in that dream, I caught up with Pindling.
And as I caught up with a then old Pindling, the talked turned to things both personal and political; and the thing that I remember most vividly – thus this typing in the early morning of the day that came after the night when I dreamed the dream whereof I now pluck some nuggets from what seems the depths of my mind.
And now, my fellow Bahamians, we march forward to the dreamscape itself –as I can even now espy that happy terrain; and as you can imagine, the matter involving Pindling and the man he was and the shadow he left are in and of themselves stories sufficient for any number of life-times as lived by any of mine who come after and who would like to know about the days that followed in this man’s mighty wake.
As I saw in and concluded and as Pindling himself concluded in the dream I had, no matter the fact that he was dead and gone, everything in the place and space where he once ran things, continues to be run as if Pindling had never left; that he – in truth and in metaphysical fact of the matter, could not and did not leave office even though he told the Parliament that he was finished with it.
But for sure, it must have dawned on him that while he might have thought he was finished with the House and the Senate and with the pomp and with the pageantry that would come with being Caesar Pindling.
And so it has been - So said; So done ; that, in all the years between the time Pindling died and the time he came back to see me as I slept and dreamed the dream I dreamed; this country has been run by Pindling himself; but this time around in the form of two of his most loyal men – Hubert Alexander Ingraham and Perry Gladstone Christie.
Hovering somewhere in my waking consciousness is the fact – now metaphysical – that Pindling did in truth and in fact have a political brother in the guise of Cecil Vincent Wallace-Whitfield who – yet again- in the world where I would have liked to live, was the best prime minister this blighted land of mine has never had.
That is what was fated to be when Cecil died at the age of sixty in that dread year that was 1990.
As the archival record and records throughout the land and throughout the world attest and do so solemnly affirm, Pindling – the mortal man- died on August 26th. 2000.
Dust to dust; ashes to ashes.
But evidently, things do not work as neatly and as simply in the world where Caesars are made and fashioned from the materials that come with politics; namely media, money and machinations and what these can and do achieve for the people who own them and to the people whose souls and minds are so routinely bought and sold for a pittance.
And so, while this or that Bahamian might aspire to change; the fact of the matter remains: no matter how the next general elections turn out: is still Ping who is large and in charge.
December 2nd, 2010
The Bahama Journal
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Malcolm Adderley, Melissa Sears - and PLP smears
Melissa Sears and PLP smears
tribune242 editorial:
FIRST IT was Malcolm Adderley, now it is Melissa Sears, and today as the years roll by the PLP party seems to have forgotten its purpose for existence, reminding us rather of the Grand Inquisitor in Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamzov.
This powerful soliloquy in the Russian novel is a deep, philosophical argument about God, free will and morality.
The Grand Inquisitor berates Christ for giving man the impossible burden of freewill, rather than security. He says that the so-call gift is no gift at all, rather this freedom to choose is a devastating, impossible burden.
People, said the Grand Inquisitor, should have been given no choice, instead, like automatons, they should just shuffle forward according to the will of their Creator.
"Nothing has ever been more insufferable for man than freedom!" concludes the Grand Inquisitor, a belief that seems to be gathering ascendancy within the Opposition party. Rather, like the Grand Inquisitor, the PLP offer their members security -- not freedom of thought. As long as they toe the party line, they will remain secure in the party fold. But get out of line and the Grand Inquisitor turns vicious -- out to destroy any idea of free will.
This tendency did not start recently, under what the electorate was duped into believing was to be a "new" PLP. It started way back in the days when Lynden Pindling returned from England, joined a party that he did not start, and quickly took over.
Malcolm Adderley, who, in the first week of this new year not only walked out of the PLP, but resigned as MP for Elizabeth, reminded his former colleagues that once upon a time in the distant past their party had the "distinction of being built by the blood, sweat and tears of hardworking men and women of humble beginnings, proud of their commitment to uplift the well being and standard of the people."
However, under the Pindling leadership, the party had lost its way. One man's dream replaced the dreams of the many, and for those who did not follow slavishly, political oblivion was the price they had to pay for having a mind of their own. Some of them, like Carlton Francis, a competent teacher, had difficulty finding a job to support their families. Mr Francis certainly was not acceptable in the government's educational system from which he had come and for which he was eminently qualified. Then there were the Dissident Eight, followed by Ed Moxey, and many others who didn't make the headlines, but certainly felt the pain of rejection and vicious scorn.
For seven long years Malcolm Adderley suffered stoically as MP for Elizabeth, until exasperated, he shook the dust from his sandals and walked out. In his farewell speech to the House, he talked of the souls of those who had sacrificed so much to build their party, but would ache as a "result of the venom and ill will that is displayed almost on a daily basis on any member who tries to correct its ills." He talked of the back-biting whispers and disrespect shown him.
And now it is the turn of a young woman, Melissa Sears, who like Mr Adderley was spotted by the party as a rising political star, and invited to join. Recently, for personal reasons -- not political -- she decided to step down as vice-chairman of the PLP. She made no fuss, she gave no interviews, she tried to keep a low profile so as not to embarrass her party. Persons close to her speculated that she had resigned because of disparaging remarks made by Opposition Leader Perry Christie. Mr Christie vehemently denied that he had made any such remarks. She remained silent.
And now the vicious party hacks, using the sophistication of the electronic age, are spreading unfair and untrue rumours to destroy this young woman. It is understood that this vehicle is being financially underwritten by two party hefties, one allegedly a sitting MP. We are not surprised by one of the names mentioned, but, if true, we are certainly surprised by the second. We gave him credit for being smarter than that.
The latest smear was imbedded on the cell phone of an FNM MP, allegedly from Ms Sears. It was an obvious trap. The MP knew that it was not from Ms Sears, because they did not have the type of relationship that was being suggested by the caller. All the sender wanted was for the MP to incriminate himself by falling for the bait, and answering the call. Instead, instinctively knowing that there was a plot afoot and guessing the source, he submitted it to the authorities for investigation. It is now being said that there is no room in the PLP for a strong woman. We say that as long as the Grand Inquisitor controls the party machine, there is no room for a strong man. The others will remain, tip-toeing around in craven fear.
Mr Adderley blamed Mr Christie for allowing PLP hacks to torture him right out of the party. It would probably be nearer the truth to speculate that Mr Christie is as afraid as his colleagues to have the smear-mongers on his case. After all the website has also given him a good flaying when it has suited those behind it.
If someone does not become more responsible in that party and respect the thoughts and opinions of others, that same irresponsible website is going to be the funeral site of the PLP.
April 30, 2010
tribune242
tribune242 editorial:
FIRST IT was Malcolm Adderley, now it is Melissa Sears, and today as the years roll by the PLP party seems to have forgotten its purpose for existence, reminding us rather of the Grand Inquisitor in Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamzov.
This powerful soliloquy in the Russian novel is a deep, philosophical argument about God, free will and morality.
The Grand Inquisitor berates Christ for giving man the impossible burden of freewill, rather than security. He says that the so-call gift is no gift at all, rather this freedom to choose is a devastating, impossible burden.
People, said the Grand Inquisitor, should have been given no choice, instead, like automatons, they should just shuffle forward according to the will of their Creator.
"Nothing has ever been more insufferable for man than freedom!" concludes the Grand Inquisitor, a belief that seems to be gathering ascendancy within the Opposition party. Rather, like the Grand Inquisitor, the PLP offer their members security -- not freedom of thought. As long as they toe the party line, they will remain secure in the party fold. But get out of line and the Grand Inquisitor turns vicious -- out to destroy any idea of free will.
This tendency did not start recently, under what the electorate was duped into believing was to be a "new" PLP. It started way back in the days when Lynden Pindling returned from England, joined a party that he did not start, and quickly took over.
Malcolm Adderley, who, in the first week of this new year not only walked out of the PLP, but resigned as MP for Elizabeth, reminded his former colleagues that once upon a time in the distant past their party had the "distinction of being built by the blood, sweat and tears of hardworking men and women of humble beginnings, proud of their commitment to uplift the well being and standard of the people."
However, under the Pindling leadership, the party had lost its way. One man's dream replaced the dreams of the many, and for those who did not follow slavishly, political oblivion was the price they had to pay for having a mind of their own. Some of them, like Carlton Francis, a competent teacher, had difficulty finding a job to support their families. Mr Francis certainly was not acceptable in the government's educational system from which he had come and for which he was eminently qualified. Then there were the Dissident Eight, followed by Ed Moxey, and many others who didn't make the headlines, but certainly felt the pain of rejection and vicious scorn.
For seven long years Malcolm Adderley suffered stoically as MP for Elizabeth, until exasperated, he shook the dust from his sandals and walked out. In his farewell speech to the House, he talked of the souls of those who had sacrificed so much to build their party, but would ache as a "result of the venom and ill will that is displayed almost on a daily basis on any member who tries to correct its ills." He talked of the back-biting whispers and disrespect shown him.
And now it is the turn of a young woman, Melissa Sears, who like Mr Adderley was spotted by the party as a rising political star, and invited to join. Recently, for personal reasons -- not political -- she decided to step down as vice-chairman of the PLP. She made no fuss, she gave no interviews, she tried to keep a low profile so as not to embarrass her party. Persons close to her speculated that she had resigned because of disparaging remarks made by Opposition Leader Perry Christie. Mr Christie vehemently denied that he had made any such remarks. She remained silent.
And now the vicious party hacks, using the sophistication of the electronic age, are spreading unfair and untrue rumours to destroy this young woman. It is understood that this vehicle is being financially underwritten by two party hefties, one allegedly a sitting MP. We are not surprised by one of the names mentioned, but, if true, we are certainly surprised by the second. We gave him credit for being smarter than that.
The latest smear was imbedded on the cell phone of an FNM MP, allegedly from Ms Sears. It was an obvious trap. The MP knew that it was not from Ms Sears, because they did not have the type of relationship that was being suggested by the caller. All the sender wanted was for the MP to incriminate himself by falling for the bait, and answering the call. Instead, instinctively knowing that there was a plot afoot and guessing the source, he submitted it to the authorities for investigation. It is now being said that there is no room in the PLP for a strong woman. We say that as long as the Grand Inquisitor controls the party machine, there is no room for a strong man. The others will remain, tip-toeing around in craven fear.
Mr Adderley blamed Mr Christie for allowing PLP hacks to torture him right out of the party. It would probably be nearer the truth to speculate that Mr Christie is as afraid as his colleagues to have the smear-mongers on his case. After all the website has also given him a good flaying when it has suited those behind it.
If someone does not become more responsible in that party and respect the thoughts and opinions of others, that same irresponsible website is going to be the funeral site of the PLP.
April 30, 2010
tribune242
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)