pharoah
03-26-07, - 07:47 PM
Are You Dumb Enough To vote for Fred Mitchell?
26th March 2007
Fred Mitchell has been much more than an incendiary in his time, a burner of the Bahamas constitution. He has been a warmonger, too.
In 1991, Mr Mitchell advocated a full-scale invasion of Haiti by the Bahamas, claiming such a military operation would "grip the nation in patriotic fervour."
Given what's happened since, today's political observers will not be surprised at the idiocy of this statement But it
even raised eyebrows at the time, especially as the Bahamas had only 200 marines equipped with rubber dinghies to pitch against Haiti's 5,000-strong army, which was still bristling with ill-intent after overthrowing the president.
What's more, the people were somewhat surprised to hear someone who wanted to become prime minister of the Bahamas effectively declaring war on a country that was, population-wise, more than 21 times bigger than his own.
Yet Mr Mitchell, blind to the absurdity of his plans, envisioned Bahamian troops running ashore Normandy-style, rifles held high, to overthrow Haiti's new military regime, with its properly drilled national guard backed up by 1,200 police officers.
The D-Day ambitions of the now foreign minister might seem outrageous to today's bright young Bahamians, but no more absurd, say observers, than some of Mr Mitchell's other crackpot schemes. "God help us if he ever became prime minister," said one old-time politician. "It would be a oneway ticket to Armageddon."
Addressing West Nassau Rotary Club, Mr Mitchell said at the time: "The invasion of Haiti would grip the Bahamas in patriotic fervour, and perhaps encourage the kind of resolute discipline which we have been seeking to instil in our people."
He went on: "It is believed that with proper helicopter gunship and helicopter carrier support, the Haitian Army can be
decapitated inrelatively short
Warming to his Churchillian theme, Mr Mitchell suggested that a special operations unit of 120 men properly equipped with concussive grenades and other weapons might accomplish the same objective.
The only cautious note in his bellicose ramblings came when he sought to heed the lessons of the Suez Crisis in 1956.
"We may find that, like the British at Suez, we are simply not able to act without active aid, comfort and support of the United States," he said, causing his Rotarian audience to choke on their chablis with a mixture of outraged horror and derisive laughter.
The political objective of Mr Mitchell's proposed military adventure was clear: to restore constitutional democracy to Haiti, and demilitarise those army units responsible for the ousting of President Jean-Bertrand Aristide. But was it practical or advisable? Was this the product of sound judgment? Was it the kind of thinking one would expect of a potential Cabinet minister? Wiser diplomatic heads think not.
In so many ways, Mr Mitchell's preposterous invasion plans were seen by critics as characteristic of the man. Like the People's Democratic Force, which he led in the late 1980s and early 1990s, they were all bombast and no substance. Mature forethought had been supplanted by high-flown, fanciful rhetoric which lacked the buttress of commonsense.
Mr Mitchell's grandiose scheme for regime change in a foreign land, which preceded that of George W Bush in Iraq by a full decade. was destined to go nowhere. like much else in the minister's ill-starred politreal
His ambitions of becoming prime minister, his muched People's Democratic Force, and his vision of a `Shock and Awe' assault on a sovereign nation all bore the classic Mitchell stamp: a severe disconnection between his declared objectives, the meagre resources at his disposal and, of course, reality itself.
"We are not interested in being leaders of the opposition," he said of his Third Force party, "The idea is to build an organisation which can form a government." Another forlorn, and ultimately doomed, declaration of intent by the vainglorious Mr Mitchell.
His incendiary tendencies were on display again in October. 1991, when he decided to burn effigies of the entire 15strong PLP Cabinet at the Guy Fawkes celebrations at Fort Charlotte.
He invited the public to witness the demonstration "to express the utter contempt for which it (the PDF) holds this Cabinet of the Bahamas as it continues policies that oppress the Bahamian people."
He went on to declare that taxpayers should not have to bear the "unnecessary expense" of having 15 ministers in the PLP government, a number he found to be overblown and superfluous to requirements.
Within a decade, of course, he would be labelled the most expensive minister in a 16strong PLP Cabinet, running up travel bills estimated at three million dollars to attend conferences all over the world to little or no avail.
"Burning in effigy the entire Cabinet should help to bring home to the Progressive Liberal Party and their leader, Lynden O Pindling, that it is time for them to leave the scene and resign from office," said Mr Mitchell, foreshadowing the now widely-held view of himself and his Cabinet colleagues.
At about this time, the irrepressible Mr Mitchell was in open conflict not only with the PLP, but the Bar Council and the judiciary as well. At one point, tension between him and fellow attorneys prompted one Michael Barnett to condemn his "deplorable" behaviour in trying to thrust a petition into a judge's hand, in flagrant disregard for the dignity of the judicial role.
Mr Barnett accused Mr Mitchell of "grand standing", and urged him to consider good manners and decency. Meanwhile, the PLP weighed in to call Mr Mitchell an "egotistical bigot" who was hell-bent on self-aggrandisement in his selfappointed role of national watchdog.
Undeterred, Mr Mitchell waged an almost non-stop campaign of self-promotion through Nassau newspapers. In fact, there was a time when his name and photograph appeared more often than those of the prime minister and the rest of the Cabinet combined. Writing his own press releases, and choosing carefully posed portraits to illustrate them, he tried to fashion for himself an image of the suave, savvy young man about town.
For a time, the public was at least moderately impressed. But there was i4\ always a strident. intemperate not e in everything thing he said. I here was invariably a manic dimension, a suggestion of hysteria. And the image seemed just a bit too carefully coiffed to be totally authentic.
In a letter to The Tribune, he again displayed his vindictive streak. "[n a strictly political context, if someone attempts to break my arms, then I will be forced to break their legs," he wrote.
In a warning to Lynden Pindling, he said: "It is a great pity that after 22 years in office, someone like me who has never held political office must teach you how to be prime minister of the modern Bahamas. Nevertheless. 1 rise to the occasion."
In the same letter, he added: "The dismissal of Paul Adderley as Attorney General is a matter in which I take great personal pride." Having created so many enemies within the PLP, it's no surprise that so few in the modern party have any time for Fred Mitchell. Analysts say he is seen as the ultimate political carpetbagger, an opportunist with an eye for the main chance who gets up every nose he comes across. The question everyone asks, therefore, is: Why is he representing the PLP at all? No-one seems able to give anything close to a plausible answer.
In the summer of 1989, Mr Mitchell told supporters at a small Third Force rally in Grants Town that he was going to set up a radio station to counter the propaganda issuing from the PLP government's broadcasting authority.
"It's got to the point where I'm not going to complain about ZNS anymore, and I ain't going to go demonstrate, and I'm not going to ask anybody for anytime. Within 12 months, we are going to start our own radio station," he said. It seems unnecessary to add that, like much else in Mr Mitchell's political career, the radio station did not cone to pass.
Apart from the empty rhetoric and false dawns, the two other constants in the life and times of Fred Mitchell have been race and, of course, his renowned inconsistency. Twenty years ago, he was advocating a blending of the races, adding: white Bahamian does not have to be any more grateful than his black counterpart for any benefits he has reaped under the system."
Today, desperate to cling on to his Fox Hill seat, and probably realising that it is slipping away from him with every day that passes, he urges constituents to "remember your history", thus seeking to resurrect the ghost of the white racist bogeyman through references to slavery.
For Mr Mitchell himself, the sum total of all his talk - and there has been plenty of it over the last 25 years or so - is a dramatic and quite devastating loss of credibility. Those who once routinely called him smart, for no good reason that any intelligent person could think of, are now less inclined to do so.
In 2002, Mr Mitchell was given his long-awaited chance to serve at Cabinet level and fluffed it. After five years in power at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, he has nothing to show but an allegedly badly corrupted visa department, an alarming drift leftwards into Cuba's orbit, a long legacy of indecision, and seething discontent among his own staff. Not a record he will wish to record too prominently on his resume.
On November 15, 1990, a Tribune reader called LCB from Freeport addressed a missive to Mr Mitchell which has a powerful resonance today.
"In my opinion, you would probably grab anything that would elevate your cause. You always have a mouthful to say, but I see little if any community service on your part except for political ambitions."
Strangely enough, nearly 17 years on, exactly the same is being said by the people of Fox Hill. Mr Mitchell has spent so much time in the air on his fruitless foreign missions that he has done little on the ground in his own constituency.
Hence, Fox Hill is hurting, yearning for proper representation. Mitchell's campaigners are being brushed off front porches like roaches and curlytails, often, it is claimed, followed by cascades of dirty washing-up water.
With nothing constructive to say, Mr Mitchell's only response has been to erect enormous posters of himself, hoping that image will triumph over substance once again. It is, say observers, the classic tactic of the Third World politician who sees voters as malleable stooges to be manipulated and exploited at election time.
The message from the blocks, though, is that the Bahamian people aren't buying it anymore. Unlike Mr Mitchell, they have remembered their history all too well and don't like what they see. That could be his undoing.
By JOHN MARQUIS, Managing Editor
The Tribune
Nassau, Bahamas
26th March 2007
Fred Mitchell has been much more than an incendiary in his time, a burner of the Bahamas constitution. He has been a warmonger, too.
In 1991, Mr Mitchell advocated a full-scale invasion of Haiti by the Bahamas, claiming such a military operation would "grip the nation in patriotic fervour."
Given what's happened since, today's political observers will not be surprised at the idiocy of this statement But it
even raised eyebrows at the time, especially as the Bahamas had only 200 marines equipped with rubber dinghies to pitch against Haiti's 5,000-strong army, which was still bristling with ill-intent after overthrowing the president.
What's more, the people were somewhat surprised to hear someone who wanted to become prime minister of the Bahamas effectively declaring war on a country that was, population-wise, more than 21 times bigger than his own.
Yet Mr Mitchell, blind to the absurdity of his plans, envisioned Bahamian troops running ashore Normandy-style, rifles held high, to overthrow Haiti's new military regime, with its properly drilled national guard backed up by 1,200 police officers.
The D-Day ambitions of the now foreign minister might seem outrageous to today's bright young Bahamians, but no more absurd, say observers, than some of Mr Mitchell's other crackpot schemes. "God help us if he ever became prime minister," said one old-time politician. "It would be a oneway ticket to Armageddon."
Addressing West Nassau Rotary Club, Mr Mitchell said at the time: "The invasion of Haiti would grip the Bahamas in patriotic fervour, and perhaps encourage the kind of resolute discipline which we have been seeking to instil in our people."
He went on: "It is believed that with proper helicopter gunship and helicopter carrier support, the Haitian Army can be
decapitated inrelatively short
Warming to his Churchillian theme, Mr Mitchell suggested that a special operations unit of 120 men properly equipped with concussive grenades and other weapons might accomplish the same objective.
The only cautious note in his bellicose ramblings came when he sought to heed the lessons of the Suez Crisis in 1956.
"We may find that, like the British at Suez, we are simply not able to act without active aid, comfort and support of the United States," he said, causing his Rotarian audience to choke on their chablis with a mixture of outraged horror and derisive laughter.
The political objective of Mr Mitchell's proposed military adventure was clear: to restore constitutional democracy to Haiti, and demilitarise those army units responsible for the ousting of President Jean-Bertrand Aristide. But was it practical or advisable? Was this the product of sound judgment? Was it the kind of thinking one would expect of a potential Cabinet minister? Wiser diplomatic heads think not.
In so many ways, Mr Mitchell's preposterous invasion plans were seen by critics as characteristic of the man. Like the People's Democratic Force, which he led in the late 1980s and early 1990s, they were all bombast and no substance. Mature forethought had been supplanted by high-flown, fanciful rhetoric which lacked the buttress of commonsense.
Mr Mitchell's grandiose scheme for regime change in a foreign land, which preceded that of George W Bush in Iraq by a full decade. was destined to go nowhere. like much else in the minister's ill-starred politreal
His ambitions of becoming prime minister, his muched People's Democratic Force, and his vision of a `Shock and Awe' assault on a sovereign nation all bore the classic Mitchell stamp: a severe disconnection between his declared objectives, the meagre resources at his disposal and, of course, reality itself.
"We are not interested in being leaders of the opposition," he said of his Third Force party, "The idea is to build an organisation which can form a government." Another forlorn, and ultimately doomed, declaration of intent by the vainglorious Mr Mitchell.
His incendiary tendencies were on display again in October. 1991, when he decided to burn effigies of the entire 15strong PLP Cabinet at the Guy Fawkes celebrations at Fort Charlotte.
He invited the public to witness the demonstration "to express the utter contempt for which it (the PDF) holds this Cabinet of the Bahamas as it continues policies that oppress the Bahamian people."
He went on to declare that taxpayers should not have to bear the "unnecessary expense" of having 15 ministers in the PLP government, a number he found to be overblown and superfluous to requirements.
Within a decade, of course, he would be labelled the most expensive minister in a 16strong PLP Cabinet, running up travel bills estimated at three million dollars to attend conferences all over the world to little or no avail.
"Burning in effigy the entire Cabinet should help to bring home to the Progressive Liberal Party and their leader, Lynden O Pindling, that it is time for them to leave the scene and resign from office," said Mr Mitchell, foreshadowing the now widely-held view of himself and his Cabinet colleagues.
At about this time, the irrepressible Mr Mitchell was in open conflict not only with the PLP, but the Bar Council and the judiciary as well. At one point, tension between him and fellow attorneys prompted one Michael Barnett to condemn his "deplorable" behaviour in trying to thrust a petition into a judge's hand, in flagrant disregard for the dignity of the judicial role.
Mr Barnett accused Mr Mitchell of "grand standing", and urged him to consider good manners and decency. Meanwhile, the PLP weighed in to call Mr Mitchell an "egotistical bigot" who was hell-bent on self-aggrandisement in his selfappointed role of national watchdog.
Undeterred, Mr Mitchell waged an almost non-stop campaign of self-promotion through Nassau newspapers. In fact, there was a time when his name and photograph appeared more often than those of the prime minister and the rest of the Cabinet combined. Writing his own press releases, and choosing carefully posed portraits to illustrate them, he tried to fashion for himself an image of the suave, savvy young man about town.
For a time, the public was at least moderately impressed. But there was i4\ always a strident. intemperate not e in everything thing he said. I here was invariably a manic dimension, a suggestion of hysteria. And the image seemed just a bit too carefully coiffed to be totally authentic.
In a letter to The Tribune, he again displayed his vindictive streak. "[n a strictly political context, if someone attempts to break my arms, then I will be forced to break their legs," he wrote.
In a warning to Lynden Pindling, he said: "It is a great pity that after 22 years in office, someone like me who has never held political office must teach you how to be prime minister of the modern Bahamas. Nevertheless. 1 rise to the occasion."
In the same letter, he added: "The dismissal of Paul Adderley as Attorney General is a matter in which I take great personal pride." Having created so many enemies within the PLP, it's no surprise that so few in the modern party have any time for Fred Mitchell. Analysts say he is seen as the ultimate political carpetbagger, an opportunist with an eye for the main chance who gets up every nose he comes across. The question everyone asks, therefore, is: Why is he representing the PLP at all? No-one seems able to give anything close to a plausible answer.
In the summer of 1989, Mr Mitchell told supporters at a small Third Force rally in Grants Town that he was going to set up a radio station to counter the propaganda issuing from the PLP government's broadcasting authority.
"It's got to the point where I'm not going to complain about ZNS anymore, and I ain't going to go demonstrate, and I'm not going to ask anybody for anytime. Within 12 months, we are going to start our own radio station," he said. It seems unnecessary to add that, like much else in Mr Mitchell's political career, the radio station did not cone to pass.
Apart from the empty rhetoric and false dawns, the two other constants in the life and times of Fred Mitchell have been race and, of course, his renowned inconsistency. Twenty years ago, he was advocating a blending of the races, adding: white Bahamian does not have to be any more grateful than his black counterpart for any benefits he has reaped under the system."
Today, desperate to cling on to his Fox Hill seat, and probably realising that it is slipping away from him with every day that passes, he urges constituents to "remember your history", thus seeking to resurrect the ghost of the white racist bogeyman through references to slavery.
For Mr Mitchell himself, the sum total of all his talk - and there has been plenty of it over the last 25 years or so - is a dramatic and quite devastating loss of credibility. Those who once routinely called him smart, for no good reason that any intelligent person could think of, are now less inclined to do so.
In 2002, Mr Mitchell was given his long-awaited chance to serve at Cabinet level and fluffed it. After five years in power at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, he has nothing to show but an allegedly badly corrupted visa department, an alarming drift leftwards into Cuba's orbit, a long legacy of indecision, and seething discontent among his own staff. Not a record he will wish to record too prominently on his resume.
On November 15, 1990, a Tribune reader called LCB from Freeport addressed a missive to Mr Mitchell which has a powerful resonance today.
"In my opinion, you would probably grab anything that would elevate your cause. You always have a mouthful to say, but I see little if any community service on your part except for political ambitions."
Strangely enough, nearly 17 years on, exactly the same is being said by the people of Fox Hill. Mr Mitchell has spent so much time in the air on his fruitless foreign missions that he has done little on the ground in his own constituency.
Hence, Fox Hill is hurting, yearning for proper representation. Mitchell's campaigners are being brushed off front porches like roaches and curlytails, often, it is claimed, followed by cascades of dirty washing-up water.
With nothing constructive to say, Mr Mitchell's only response has been to erect enormous posters of himself, hoping that image will triumph over substance once again. It is, say observers, the classic tactic of the Third World politician who sees voters as malleable stooges to be manipulated and exploited at election time.
The message from the blocks, though, is that the Bahamian people aren't buying it anymore. Unlike Mr Mitchell, they have remembered their history all too well and don't like what they see. That could be his undoing.
By JOHN MARQUIS, Managing Editor
The Tribune
Nassau, Bahamas