The Mayor of Port of Spain’s resignation, following outrage at his remarks on the killing of a Japanese tourist, shows the speed at which social media can transform information into political pressure. Raymond Tim Kee’s come-uppance resembles the humbling of our own former Minister of Health, whose misogynistic outburst last April provoked a similar reality check. The online petition for the Mayor’s resignation (which gathered no fewer than 10,500 signatures) noted that his removal “restored some level of the people’s faith in local government and sends a message to those others in office who hold similar views to re think their position.”
Before Mr Tim Kee is relegated to the status of a Wikipedia footnote, it is worth reviewing his opinions, and the way they were disseminated. His first remarks were clear enough. Smartly dressed at a post-Carnival press briefing, he spoke to the media with the dismissive condescension that comes so naturally to many West Indian bureaucrats. Yes, it was unfortunate that someone had died, especially in this city, but Carnival can be dangerous, particularly when there is too much alcohol, skimpy costumes and lewd behaviour. He told the media that “the woman has the responsibility to ensure that she is not abused” and she should “maintain a certain kind of dignity.”
Since the murdered tourist had been wearing a carnival costume, the Mayor added that you might “let your imagination roll a bit” and consider whether alcohol, and “involuntary actions” were involved. In a remark that has so far received far less attention than it deserves, he added that “our culture is not just playing mas, there are lot of other subcultures that people engage in all year and therefore they [tourists] have to be aware of that.”
Once these statements were broadcast on Facebook and Twitter, Tim Kee realized how badly his indifference towards Ms Asami Nagakiya had gone down in the court of public opinion. His office released a statement in which the mayor “unequivocally” apologized those “who were offended by remarks attributed to him following the death of carnival visitor and mas player, Asami Nagakiya.” Belatedly he extended sympathy to her family and recognised Ms Nagayika as “a welcome visitor and close friend of the steel band community in Trinidad & Tobago for several years.”
Unable to resist his bureaucratic instincts, however, Tim Kee also stated that while his opinions “could have been considered out of line” especially by “feminist groups and activists” he had also received support from “several women agreeing with him on the lack of modesty displayed by some women and girls.” This was not all bluster. As the columnist Kevin Baldeosingh subsequently noted, Tim Kee shares a “moral perspective” with Trinidad’s religious leaders and with the new Prime Minister who had “suggested on the campaign trail that unmarried pregnant teachers should not be allowed into classrooms.”
In a sharp contrast to the Mayor’s waffling defence, a man in a protest march told an interviewer: “It is shameful for everyone, for the entire country … he has custody of the city and instead of being the first, on behalf of all of us, to take condolences to her family, he made this victim-shaming nonsense comment and is trying to defend it.” Pointing out that Ms Nagayika had been “a tireless ambassador for this country and its culture” the man added “it is sad that we have failed her.” When a protestor’s impromptu remarks are more thoughtful and sensitive than your own, most mayors probably realize that they are days are numbered.
When Mr Tim Kee announced his resignation, he acknowledged that public officials “must be held to a high standard of transparency, good governance, and accountability.” He noted that his successor would have to address problems with “street dwelling, parking, poor drainage and vending.” This last point should not be discounted for while the removal of a condescending and insensitive bureaucrat does “restore people’s faith in local government” it does nothing to ensure that his replacement will discharge the mayor’s other responsibilities any better than the incumbent.
Outmoded attitudes should have no place in modern governance but there is a thin line, easily crossed, between holding public officials to account for outrageous utterances, like Mr Tim Kee’s and Dr Ramsarran’s, and hounding them for opinions that are merely ill-suited to the zeitgeist. Faced too often with this sort of reckoning it is just as likely that public servants will adopt a veneer of politically correct attitudes rather than genuinely reconsidering their prejudices and learning from others’ mistakes. The most important lesson to be learned from these controversies is that public officials should learn to acknowledge their mistakes candidly, and not issue half-hearted apologies. Public opinion is more tolerant of mistakes than highhandedness.
In many other parts of the world, coordinated teams of “social media activists” troll digital media for politically inconvenient opinions, seizing on any form of dissent, and hounding its authors, often for weeks, into silence. The Caribbean, mercifully, has not been infected with a culture of digital vigilantism, but we should be aware of its dangers. Striking a balance between the sort of publicity which prompts the resignation of foolish and prejudiced public servants and the sort that discourages citizens from sharing opinions on sensitive topics is not nearly as straightforward as it might appear.
