“Kings One, chapter 19, I think; verses 11-13: Elijah’s in the cave. He hears a mighty tempest, but the good Lord is not in the tempest. He sees a big fire, but the Lord is not in the big fire; he hears a still, quiet voice saying from the Lord: ‘Elijah, what dost thou?’ The governor is not an elected person, so the governor does not go about making public statements about how he may disagree with a particular point of view. The governor is that quieter, still voice behind closed doors doing things to support the general tasks that I have.”
— Governor John Duncan, on JTV’s Spotlight on Jan. 12
In Eden
Genesis, chapters 2-4, I believe: Adam and Eve are in the Garden of Eden, and it is lovely! They’re surrounded by lush greenery, colourful flowers, and melodious songbirds. Then the serpent tricks them into eating the forbidden fruit. That’s when they obtain knowledge. And guess what? They hate it! The governor understands that there are some things that people don’t want to know, even if they’re extremely curious. So if he declines to give an update on, say, the police corruption probe that cost taxpayers more than $350,000 last year, he’s probably doing you a huge favour. Trust him.
On Mount Sinai
Exodus, chapters 24-31 or thereabouts: The good Lord has a message for His people, so He orders Moses to join Him on Mount Sinai while the rest of the Israelites wait down below. After 40 days and 40 nights, the Lord gives Moses two stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments. Moses carries the tablets back down the mountain and shares them with the Israelites. The governor is that mysteriously distant voice that doesn’t always speak directly to the people. He doesn’t always hold a press conference or give interviews to the media or otherwise answer questions. Instead, he often gives his message to a staff member who then delivers it to the people in the form of a press release. Of course, the governor’s messages are not written on stone, because stone is prohibitively expensive these days. Rather, they are sent by e-mail and posted on the Internet, which means that they’ll probably last longer than stone anyway. Only in rare cases — such as recent announcements about the new police commissioner — does this process take as long as 40 days and 40 nights.
At Job’s house
Job, chapter 38, if I’m not mistaken: Job has been stricken with unimaginable afflictions, so he asks the good Lord why he must suffer. But the Lord doesn’t give him a straight answer. Instead, He fires off a string of rather ambiguous questions. “Have you entered the springs of the sea?” He asks. “Or have you walked in search of the depths? Have the gates of death been revealed to you?” And so on. Job is pretty confused by this response, but he never loses his faith. The governor is that occasionally ambiguous voice that doesn’t always provide a straight answer. For example, if you ask him whether he supports the police’s new policy of omitting names from their arrest blotter, he might tell you that he’s “in discussions” with the police commissioner. If you wait a few months and ask him again, he might say the same thing. Yours is not to question why.
At Jericho
Joshua, chapter 6, verses 3-21, approximately: The Israelites are ready to enter the Promised Land, but Jericho stands in their way. God tells their leader Joshua that the Israelites can destroy the city, but they have to do it His way: by walking around the city seven times and then shouting as loud as they can. The Israelites probably think this directive is odd, but they do it anyway. And guess what? The city walls topple! The governor might occasionally give directives that seem a little peculiar — such as his recent request that the House of Assembly revise parts of the Legal Profession Act — but when things are done his way, walls topple. Every. Single. Time.
At Babel
Genesis, chapter 11, verses 1-9, if I remember correctly: The people are trying to build a tower up to heaven. The Lord is concerned, but he doesn’t smite anybody or destroy the tower. Instead, he causes them to speak in different languages and allows them to proceed. When they are consequently forced to dramatically scale back the project, they all learn a valuable lesson. The governor is that tolerant grandfatherly trickster who doesn’t call a commission of inquiry into the cruise pier project. Instead, he steps back and lets matters take their course with the hope that leaders will learn from their mistakes. Incidentally, he doesn’t need to cause them to speak different languages.
Disclaimer: Dateline: Paradise is a column and occasionally contains satirical “news” articles that are entirely fictional.
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