And I have come to realize that politics in The Bahamas is just that - war. There are casualties, and even fatalities, on a scale that we would hardly credit at any other time in our national life. Actions are taken and countenanced that would have us either turning up our noses in disgust or severing ties with the actor, but during what has rightly been called "silly season," we fete these people and their actions instead.
The pragmatists among us say the goal is to win, and that anything done in service of that goal is to the good. There is some traction for this view, however distasteful it may seem on the face of it. After all, Bahamians who at other times have been friends and close associates become enemies - some even swear blood oaths of vengeance! - over actions taken in service of a political win. And, not to put too fine a point on it, politicians who do not have the stomach to do what must be done to win are often dismissed as "weak" or "not ready yet."
To watch this war unfold, to mourn quietly for the casualties, to lament the destruction of lives and careers of the less protected participants, and to document it all, is the task of the journalist. As such a creature, I find that my own stomach quivers over the actions and behaviour I find myself observing and recording. Nonetheless, that is what silly season is: this is the time in our national life when those of us with only a loose grip on a moral centre throw the yoke of personal ethics aside, and engage with berserker fury in what - in less vitriolic times - has been called "the cut and thrust of disputational politics."
Journalists of The Bahamas, colleagues senior and junior: take note. Keep your eyes peeled, your shield steady and your pen uncapped. To war!
