Forget Fear

[Originally published in the weekend edition of the Vanuatu Daily Post]

My name is Dan McGarry. I’ve been using the nom de plume of Graham Crumb since 1995, but today I have decided to draw aside the literary veil. I do so in solidarity with Marc Neil-Jones, publisher of the Daily Post, in order to make it clear that violence and threats have no power to silence the media.

In past columns I’ve dealt with fairly complex topics: technology, society, politics, culture and history. Today’s, however, is a simple one. It can be summed up in a single sentence:

Violence and intimidation only work when we let them.

For reasons that remain unfathomable to me, politics and power always seem to attract those who are most willing to take advantage of others. Vanuatu is no exception. Over the years, we’ve seen a long succession of Ministers and MPs who seem to value personal indulgence over everything else. We’ve seen thievery, deception, coercion and violence used so widely and so often that it’s hard to perceive what moral compass –if any– guides our political leadership.

So when a particularly unscrupulous character such as Harry Iauko arrives on the scene, it’s hard for our political leaders to know what to do. In fairness to the MP, he’s only slightly further beyond the pale than MPs Korman or Vohor, to name only a couple. As a group, it seems our leaders really have come to believe that the rule of law, respect and kastom are nothing more than useful tools, to be picked up and cast aside as convenience dictates.

Let’s be honest with ourselves: There won’t be any criminal prosecution for what Iauko did. There may yet be retribution, but it will be that special political kind that avoids doing any actual harm to anyone.

Iauko will not be punished for doing wrong; he’ll be pushed aside because he’s given his rivals an opening. In political terms, his fault is not that he’s broken the law; his mistake will have been that he overstepped and so exposed himself.

And that is why I find politics both fascinating and repugnant at the same time.

So, unlike some, I’m not going to demand action from this government. I’m simply going to do what journalists do: I’m going to bear witness.

It may be that MPs feel they have some special exemption from the law and kastom. But it is equally true that in a free society, everyone has the right to form –and to state– their own opinion. And the best way that we can do that is to remain informed, to encourage a public dialogue, to confront people with the facts.

Let the MPs think what they want; we retain the right to think what we like about them, and to say so publicly. And these days, it’s not going to be very flattering.

Violence and unlawful conduct don’t persist merely because our politicians do nothing to stop them. They persist because we allow them to. They persist because we’ve accepted the fact that the only time we ever hear police sirens is when some dignitary is being ushered around town. They persist because we allow politicians to separate themselves from us. Because we allow them to seduce us with paltry gifts and promises.

But most of all, it’s because we all –white and black alike– love to have access to the corridors of power.

No sooner are we given a glimpse of this separate, special world than we begin to fall prey to its allure. Witness how even principled members of government like the PM and Minister Regenvanu have suddenly, inexplicably, found themselves at a loss for words.

In the face of a torrent of international condemnation, the best PM Kilman was able to muster was a statement by his spokesman he would let the courts decide Iauko’s fate. No mention of the fact that in most parliamentary democracies, any minister under investigation immediately steps down – at least until the issue is resolved.

From Ralph Regenvanu? Not a peep. This from the man whose election slogan was ‘Inaf!’ Maybe he’ll amend it next time to ‘Klosap inaf. Wet smol.’

In a canny bit of manoeuvring, however, the PM pulled his Minister out of the fire just days later by shuffling him from Lands to Justice, thus enforcing his silence. No matter that this is his third portfolio in about as many months. No matter that actually governing is near-impossible while the Cabinet is playing musical chairs. No matter that, despite all these portfolio changes and all the problems he’s caused, Iauko remains at his post.

And what of the Opposition, whose job it is to challenge and question? Even Iauko’s VP arch-rivals Natapei and Molisa have yet to say a word.

Let’s forget the politicians, then. They’re obviously powerless to act, except according to the byzantine, counter-factual logic of power.

They don’t matter, anyway. They can bluster all they like, but as we’ve seen in recent months, they can’t dominate and control us all the time. Inevitably, the people win. Throughout North Africa and across the Arabian Peninsula, people have demonstrated that strong governments which rely on coercion to enforce their will can be rendered fragile as paper in the wind.

All it takes is for people to leave their fear behind them.

It’s almost comical to see how quickly bullies like Iauko can be deflated when people cease to fear them, or conversely, how police and other state officials can be rendered worse than useless when they allow their fear to cow them.

The staff at the Daily Post –and Marc Neil-Jones in particular– learned years ago that they were free to tell the truth once they left their fear behind. It’s a small act, and a fairly simple one, too. But its effects are immense.

I remember visiting the Daily Post offices a couple of days after Police Commissioner Joshua Bong had sent his thugs around to give Marc a thumping. In spite of the bashed-in nose, cracked ribs and bloody lip, Marc managed a quirky smile and a chuckle when I voiced my concern. “I’ve been deported, jailed and beaten up before,” he said. “This isn’t the worst I’ve seen.

I am getting a bit old for this, though,” he added wryly.

I would have thought our ministers of state had matured beyond these schoolyard bully tactics too, but apparently they’re not too old for tantrums.

We should all learn from Marc’s example: We have only to free ourselves from fear and the power of these bullies evaporates in an instant.

My name is Dan McGarry. If you don’t like what I’ve got to say, I’m okay with that. I’m not afraid.

Ball and chain

Make a little more money
take a little more time from your friends
Makes it a little harder
to get started at
making amends

Making amends
because you took that time away from your friends
circular cycle
but I’m telling you now this has to end

I am tired of you
being your own ball and chain
you’re pushing me in circles girl
but this time I don’t come back again

Seven days
since I held your hand
Nineteen days
since I talked to you
Been a long time honey
but I don’t know how long it’s been
since I loved you

Perfect blonde

I used to know the perfect blonde
with a smile as wide
as a riverside

She could turn the moonlight on
like a shining light
on a midnight ride

In the end I let her go
She was never kind
with what was on her mind

Guess it only goes to show
that we sometimes find
love ain’t blind

And I said, ‘Looks don’t mean that much to me’
only now I see
I’m a liar
God in heaven give me reprieve
’cause I don’t believe
there is anything higher

I got with this flaming redhead
She never let me down
when she come around

Blazing like an Arctic sunset
going on and on
from dusk to dawn

She left me in the wintertime
and the irony
didn’t rust on me

Said, ‘stick it where the sun don’t shine’
such a symphony
of sympathy

And I said, ‘Looks don’t mean that much to me’
only now I see
I’m a liar
God in heaven give me reprieve
’cause I don’t believe
there is anything higher

Wouldn’t mind the wind

Arctic hillside
see a raven
dressed in black for sins he can’t atone

Stealing daylight
from the season
when a young man’s thoughts just turn to stone

A dying newborn squalling in the night
lacks the pathos of this raven’s flight
Wish that this were my ancestral home
Maybe then I wouldn’t be alone

and I

Wouldn’t mind the wind
wouldn’t mind the freedom way up there
wouldn’t mind just swimming in
an ocean full of air and sky
Wouldn’t mind the wind if I could fly

Time is rolling
like a boulder
down the steep decline that is my life
My chief achievement
getting older
dead-end job, dead child and grieving wife

I hear the cackling raven’s raucous jest
‘I bet you think your life’s some kind of quest
Like a glimpse inside a peep show booth—
that’s how I’d describe your search for truth.’

and I

Wouldn’t mind the wind
wouldn’t mind the freedom way up there
wouldn’t mind just swimming in
an ocean full of air and sky
Wouldn’t mind the wind if I could fly

[break]

I’m up at midnight staring at the sun
‘Cause there are things that cannot be undone
Guess I’ll wait till my last failing breath
to admit that I’ve got time for death

and I…

Back to my cave

Time was
I could share with a lover
never worryin’ ’bout another
come to share in my place

My loss
I guess I never discovered
the differences between me
and the human race

I know sharing’s a virtue
but you don’t like it
when I share my fears

I know I hurt you
I hurt me too
Maybe I should just get out
get out of here

Going back to my cave
Mm-hmm I’m gonna be brave
put down my club now
and I promise to behave ’cause I’m
going back to my cave

I know I’m less than
politically correct
Australopithecus
got nothin’ on me

But hear me now
and forgive me if I’m too direct
Neither one of us is ever gonna be free

I know love is a virtue
but how to love you
ain’t never been clear

I know I hurt you
I hurt me too
Maybe I should just get out
get out of here

Going back to my cave
Mm-hmm I’m gonna be brave
put down my club now
and I promise to behave ’cause I’m
going back to my cave

Not crying now

Take your petty feelings
and feed ’em
on your freedom
tell me it’s alright

Should’ve known this moment
was coming
by the drumming
of your heart tonight

But what you doing for me
if you’re not crying now?
Tell me how could can I feel?
Have I made you happy now?

I know I’m not the very
first lover
to discover
what a heart breaks like

And I guess I owe and emotional debt
to that tact that
you’ve exercised

But what you doing for me
if you’re not crying now?
Tell me how could can I feel?
Have I made you happy now?

Like an Angel

Face like an angel
with tears in her eyes
the memory of someone she knew

crept up behind her
caught her by surprise
so I just said the one thing I knew:

Still waters run deep
and deeper still
the thing called loneliness
a broken heart

can never be healed
nor even killed
The first is madness
and the second part

makes you cry like an angel
an angel who is lost to God
When you cry like an angel
nothing changes
nothing changes

There’s nothing to keep
and keeping still
won’t fill that emptiness
it’ll stop your heart

And just when you think
you’ve had your fill
the well of sorrow overflows
(sorrow overflows)

and you cry like an angel
an angel who is lost to God
When you cry like an angel
nothing changes
nothing changes

All the time and emotion
you invested’s just a drop in the ocean
’cause you did it all for you
and he did it all for him
and the sweetest songs
they got it wrong
when they said you could fall in love again

so you cry like an angel…
like an angel…

Something’s got to give

If we treat this romance like a venture
I’ll admit that it’s deep in the red
But a statement of debts and debentures
leaves one thing important unsaid:

Tell me why must it be
we should part company
if we don’t profit right from the start?

It seems clear to me
there’s no love industry
manufacturing a maintenance-free heart

And when push comes to shove
this old broken down love
is more than the sum of its parts

You cry, oh you cry
till you leak like a sieve
Don’t be surprised
Something’s always got to give.