Damion Crawford’s whinge

DAMION CRAWFORD, the populist opposition politician with an affinity for alliterations, no doubt believes in democracy and embraces the concept of the will of the people. Or maybe, at the personal level, he was burnt by his experience in the riding of East Rural St Andrew.

Then a nationally popular member of parliament and junior minister for tourism in the People’s National Party (PNP) administration, the dreadlocked Mr Crawford was deselected by his party in favour of businessman Peter Blake, who in the end couldn’t bear the burden of past baggage.

Mr Crawford blamed his defeat on his insistence on focusing his constituency development efforts on education, while his constituents had other priorities, including social welfare handouts. He, on the other hand, was accused of being imperious in his actions.

It is unquestionable, though, that Mr Crawford, who is still under 40 and, since last October, a member of the Senate, remains politically popular, still with the gift for uncomplicated, rhyming declarations that resonate with crowds, especially younger ones. That, Mr Crawford seems to assume, based on the whinge he had in Manchester on Sunday, gives him a right of entitlement, which he wasn’t being afforded.

VICE-PRESIDENT ASPIRATIONS

Baldly, whatever may be his longer-term aspirations, Mr Crawford wants to be a vicepresident of the PNP, of which there are four. Election to these positions takes place at the party’s annual conference in September.

We assume that there are times when the heavyweights of political parties can choreograph these outcomes in back-room horse-trading. But, generally, candidates are nominated within a specific time and delegates cast ballots during the conference. The four candidates who receive the most votes are the ones who get the posts.

There is nothing, constitutionally, that prevents Mr Crawford from formally throwing his hat in the ring. In a whining peroration, mostly in Jamaican Creole, Mr Crawford lamented, it appears, the lack of party acclamation for his candidacy and elevation to the position, which he believes he deserves and would have made his late father happy.

BEAST OF BURDEN

“Why is it that every time the work to do, you are great, but when the rewards to give, you are late?” was his rhetorical question. “Why is it that I am the beast of burden?”

He complained that people, supposedly within the PNP, but precisely who, he didn’t say, argued that he isn’t ready for the vice-presidency position. But he is in no doubt that he is. He touted his popularity and credibility among young people, a demographic the PNP has to win if it wants to retake the government, as well as his accomplishments in the promotion of education.

We have a few observations of Mr Crawford’s almost soliloquy. First, political leadership is neither reward nor gift. It is a call to service on which those who respond are required to make greater personal expenditure in time, effort and integrity.

Second, those who apply for such jobs ought not to expect them to be served up on a platter. Positions of leadership are to be worked for. They should not be accepted unless that applicant has a clear vision of what he wants to accomplish for the benefit of those he is committed to serve and a clearly thought-out path to that end. Mr Crawford should satisfy himself that he has covered these criteria, and, if he has, he should proceed with his candidacy, without the whingeing.