Margaret Morris, ContributorI have been guilty of a serious error of judgement. The only consolation is that I was one of thousands of Jamaicans who made the same mistake, and the only excuse is that 'hope springs eternal in the human breast'.
Perhaps it was my ever-resilient optimism, augmented by senile exuberance, that caused me to perceive and proclaim Portia Simpson Miller as Jamaica's best hope for meaningful political change. Today, we are witnessing the antithesis of the scenario I had envisioned.
In retrospect, the premises on which I based my expectations seem sketchy, and include the following: a memory of her voice on the radio charged with purpose and emotion as she described abuses suffered by her constituents (this was during the '80s); the fact that she had the guts to abstain from a vote important to her colleagues; the fact that in 1993 Hugh Small supported her bid to lead the PNP; and last, the fact that, to best of my knowledge, she had no corrupt connections.
In my imagination, and against the background of total disenchantment with Omar's wannabe-First-World lunacy, Phillips' bullying image and Blythe's bizarre tactics, Sister P seemed such a paragon of good sense and good intentions that she quickly morphed into a potential political redeemer.
Brilliant speech
In my enthusiasm, I went on record in this newspaper by calling her Jamaica's best, last and, perhaps, only hope for meaningful political reform. At her installation, the Prime Minister's brilliant and moving inaugural address promised to vindicate these expectations.
Even Mutty, our most astute political commentator, was awed by Portia's expressed intention to root out corruption and champion human rights. It was a brilliant speech (how I envied the author!) and she delivered it with conviction and dignity, like a lady.
Apart from the hugging and kissing and the novelty of a decorative figurehead clad indesigner clothes, we have had 16 months of business as usual and more of the same: escalating crime, escalating violence by and towards the police, more scandals and blatant corruption, accelerated destruction of the environment, and more squandering of scarce resources on futile gestures and pretentious white elephants like the Trelawny stadium.
The fact that Sister P chose to maintain the status quo of a decadent and bumbling government strongly confirms that she is not, and never will be, the political messiah we sought. The mass gathering at Half-Way Tree on Sunday proved that.
This event was not a political meeting but a tawdry roadshow, complete with a chorus line of candidates in orange costumes, jigging and gyrating on cue, some looking dangerously over-stimulated and others (a few) looking terribly embarrassed as they went through the required motions.
Meanwhile, where was our lady Prime Minister and God-fearing head of state? She was acting as ringmaster of the circus and hogging the show, screeching and wagging her finger at us, jigging and jogging and 'wining' around like a would-be dancehall queen.
Jamaicans not simpletons
She was blowing her own trumpet (almost literally) with hoarse shouts of "Portia is the Change. She is the Change. I am the Change," and then attempting to mesmerise us and create suspense with verbal repetition and hocus-pocus numerology. Where was that brilliant speech writer she used to have? And where was her charisma?
Her true friends need to remind 'Mama P', as she now calls herself, that the majority of Jamaicans are not simpletons, and the thousands who took the joyride to Half-Way Tree on Sunday are at liberty to 'nyam her out and vote her out' if, as polls suggest, they believe her party is going in the wrong direction. After all, is not a change as good as a rest?
Margaret Morris is a freelance writer and businesswoman.
