People, Parliament, Party and Pi Tautau (Revisited)

 Subject: Samoa Politics 

O Se Fesili: What is an MP? 

This post is brought to you by the character or letter “P” of both the Palagi and Samoan alphabets. 

“P” as in Perspective and Parody. And speaking of the Samoan alphabet, the “Pi Tautau” immediately comes to mind. 

Parliament, Party or People? (Palemene, Pati po’o Pipo?) 

Presently, we have this period of percolating political pandemonium among our people talu ai ni popolega i nisi o pili poo tulafono taufa’aofi. Oute le ta’ele pisipisi, but for the most part, I would like to parse some problematic words like “Parliament” and “Party” especially since the acronym/abbreviation/initialism “MP” is now in the state of perplexity or puzzlement - if not a political ambiguity. Which one is prior and precedent? “Member of Parliament” or “Member of Party” - Palemene po’o le Pati? According to the present principles, practices and laws, passed recently, it might as well be the latter. I ni tulafono fou ma le foliga pi’opi’o, ua atagia mai ai ua faase’etuagalu ma lona lua le palemene, ae faamuamua ma sili atu le taua o le pati. O la’u point, e iai tulafono e prudent and praiseworthy ae iai fo’i isi tulafono e pointless and pea-brained. 

One such pea-brained law is the one where a Member of Parliament loses his/her seat when he/she leaves or resigns from a party. When a person runs in the national elections, he/she primarily and principally runs for a seat in Parliament, first and foremost, and not a seat in a party. The constituents and voters elect their candidate to go sit (no pun intended) in Parliament as a Member of Parliament ae le o se member of a party. The candidate can and may run as a member i lalo o le tagavai a le party, but his/her premiere right and privilege as a Member of Parliament supersede that of any party membership, loyalty or primacy. 

I le ma lenei, when a member of Parliament is sworn in and takes the oath, yes in Parliament, he/she is sworn in, literally, as a “sui usufono o le Palemene,” (Member of Parliament) ae le o se sui usufono a se pati. E lelei ona toe faitau le tautoga. When an MP leaves a party, he/she needs to stay in Parliament as an independent. A party should not have the right, through its by-laws or through any Act, to abrogate or deny a duly elected MP his/her seat until the voters decide during a regular election or by election -- if for another legitimate reason. Ia poo se recall fo’i. The authority is vested in the people - not the party. Power without authority is illegal. Atonu e iai le right a le party e faate’a ai le sui mai i le latou party, but not from Parliament. 

A party is temporary while a parliament is permanent. A party is fickle and changes but a parliament is perpetual. A party is inferior while a parliament is paramount. A party is only a “part” but a parliament is whole. A country can exist without political parties but not without a parliament - or other ruling body for that matter. 

Now here’s a preposterous irony or -- in line with the P subtext -- a Paradox. According to the government, the primary objective for the three bills and other new laws is to advance and perpetuate customs and traditions; hence to bring the modern government’s protocols and practices more in line with the tu ma agaifanua. Okay perfect, fair enough. That’s a positive and a plus. And why not? There are plenty of parallels between the two. With regard to the national Parliament, it has gradually been modified to mimic and photocopy its local counterpart - the village fono. Put simply, Parliament is the local village fono writ large. First, the national Parliament is called the Fono (with uppercase “F”) eponymously after the local village and “lowercased” fono (council). Second, the national parliamentary house/building (Fale Fono) is modeled in shape and pattern after a traditional fale in the village where the local fono meets. Third, the round seating arrangement of the traditional fono is also a pattern found in the national Fale Fono. Fourth, the members of both are exclusively matai only. Fifth, and unbelievably so, the monotaga is now a requirement to become a member of both assemblies. And that leaves us with one profane and prevailing difference between the two -- pppparties! Political Parties. 

Here’s my personal prognostication: The perspicuous purpose and goal of the present government is for the village fono and national Parliament to be perfectly aligned and compatible. Again, they are not because Parliament has parties and the village fono does not. Therefore, to be similar or the same, two propoundments are possible - either get rid of political parties in Parliament or introduce them on the local level. I think the former is more pertinent and apropos. Not to become a one party state, but as one group of pally, peaceable, patient and pleasant people with a shared pedigree as in the traditional village fono. Only then can we hopefully restore and reclaim the ava fatafata through the traditional maliega ‘autasi or the consensus protocol in the place of the present bickering, profanity, name-calling and the daily adversarial process of party punch-up. Sometimes members of Parliament during fono proceedings sound like pesky little kids at a playground provoking and pestering each other. Excusing such exchanges for suaga (or persiflage) is simply puerile and petty. 

Does Samoa need political parties? Now that’s an issue and topic for another time. It may also be too late -- the pig is already out of the pa pua’a. But it is another paradox for the government because it will definitely support Samoa having political parties. Although they point fingers to such phenomena as palagi ploys and procedures, yet they continue to pursue them. For me, however, my answer is “Perceptively, no!” Why? Because Samoa is not yet a pluralistic polity. It’s still a very plain and homogenous society. The issues facing Samoa, so far, are neither multiplex, convoluted nor publicly contravening. Hence, the platforms and proclamations of all these parties are very similar if not exactly the same. Why do we need several parties and platforms with basically the same or similar plans and goals? 

Probably the real growing pain and problem is that there are too many parties. (And that’s a pun too.) Tautua, Samoa First, Tumua and Pule, SNDP, HRPP and now we have FAST. If another new party is formed, please name it FURIOUS because people are furious and pissed. It will have a nice ring to it especially when Fast and Furious form a partnership or coalition in the future. What will be more phenomenal is with Seiuli (The Rock) becoming their leader. He’s already a matai, you know, and he will have no problem with any monotaga issues. He can do it lump sum. As far as living in Samoa for three consecutive years, he can faaliu kupe that part too. Precisely. 

And yet another popolega, and that is the parity between politics and religion in our pseudo democracy. It’s true that our national motto is religion-based, but that doesn’t mean we should be pious and seek to petition Deity in everything we do politically. If progressive piety becomes the new normal, then whenever we talk about politics in Samoa, it would not be pure political policies but politics plus religion or “Poligion”. Probably not proper. 

Back to the MP. If the present public, partisan and prickly political pandemonium prevails and perpetuates, then MP will soon take up another popular parsing which is “Military Police”. What we don’t want, however, is for MP to end up being “Member of Politburo” which is quite possible and pertinent if the present and popular premonition of absolute POWER/PULE is procured, perpetrated and prostituted. Prudence is hereby prompted, proposed and promoted. 

Oh, and speaking of the Pi Tautau, could the patrons and proprietors of this alphabetic pictorial or portrayal change the “P” association to “Pua’a” or “Povi” from “Pusi” -- Please?!?

Politically polite, 

LV Letalu

UPDATE:

I've reposted this for a very interesting if not a funny coincidence. As in several of my prior blog posts, some things of coincidental, evidential, predictive and/or prognostic significance had presented themselves after the writeups are posted.

For this particular one, I was told that the letter was published in the hard copy of Samoa Observer around October last year (2020). Clearly, the post has a political context and content, mostly parodying politics in Samoa. Besides the other three P's in the title, the anomaly and odd one is "Pi Tautau", which I added mainly for a more humorous and satirical effect. 

And yet, just a few days ago, I happened to be watching one of the sessions of the Samoa Parliament on YouTube (Feb 16th 2021, 11:00 am), and guess what subject was cited and discussed at some length by the Members of Parliament, especially by the Prime Minister?  Yes. The Pi Tautau!! Just out of the blue. Perhaps the most apolitical subject was "politicized". LOL!  In other words, the title of my blog post makes sense now and is finally "complete". Who knows, maybe an MP read my letter or blog and was preoccupied with the Pi Tautau. So to Samoa's Members of Parliament, if one of you is reading this post, please consider passing a law to officially make the change requested above to change the pictorial association for the letter "P". Do it FAST! please HR Please! Please! (no pun or political affiliation intended). Hahahaa.

T.O.A: The Tifa (I)

 T.O.A: The Tifa

It has been said that kin blood is not spoiled by distant waters, but also that, with kinship, blood is thicker than water. Yet it’s been told of old on some distant shores that a certain kin's arms, if severed, there would be no blood - just water. Shockingly, the kin did live and spoil on kinfolk blood until finally when the water was thickened with his own blood, kin blood became unspoiled. Again.

PROLOGUE

Circa: Some time after the Foafoaga or Creative Period in the South Pacific.

As the gods brooded over the face of the waters and their vast expansive handiwork, the mysterious Taimotu archipelago lay adrift on the placid ocean below. It consisted of several islands spreading over many square miles. The majority of the islands were fringed by jagged reefs, but a few were not. For the unfringed ones, high sea cliffs rise precipitously out of the deep ocean and are constantly pounded by roaring surf and surging waves. The average distance between the islands was no more than a few miles. So close but still far apart.The notable islands of Taimotu are Motu Roa, or Long Island, Motu Tapu the sacred island and Motu Oti or Death Island.  A few of the islands were diverse enough topographically to sustain a variety of life forms. The inhabitants of Taimotu were a mixture of natives, hybrid creatures and shapeshifters. They mostly lived in harmony through blood relations, interdependence and by some abstract order designed and decreed by the gods - and demigods. But infighting and wars were also common.

Time lapsed. And as if by some mythical plan, a lone white tern appeared hovering high above Taimotu. It behaved like a bird of prey prowling for a carcass. It continued to meander through midair, descending slowly through the heat of the mid afternoon sun. The striking beams bounced off the bird’s beak and silver feathers to create piercing rays that traveled far and wide, even beyond the archipelago. The bird chirped and tweeted. It sounded urgent as if trying to signal a message about an imminent event. But the message went unheeded - or likely had been misunderstood. The tweets echoed, faded and died over the boundless expanse.

Some years following, there had been little change on Taimotu. Survival of the fittest especially from the exploits of their supernatural and shapeshifting powers became the norm. The effects of a certain type of evolution played a role in the natural selection of their chiefs and masters. Overall, the natives had kept to themselves. They were vigilant in guarding their remote, isolated existence and unshared universe until one day, an outsider, a man very much like themselves -- only fairer -- was washed ashore on Motu Roa. He was still alive. After much speculation and deliberation among the natives on what to do with the stranger, they believed that perhaps he was one of the gods or a demigod, fallen, yet still had a chance at redemption. The natives decided to allow the stranger to dwell among them.

But a few years after the stranger's arrival, a huge sailing ship anchored off the shores of Motu Roa to claim him. A row boat was lowered and a few sailors with muskets boarded and started rowing towards the shore where a group of half naked warriors armed with war clubs and spears had already gathered to meet the intruders. A few men and women were also part of the group. They had been watching the ship for the last hour as its ominous form first appeared on the horizon. In front and separate from the rest of the group, two warriors were flanking a trio - the outsider in frayed and tattered pants, a woman and a little girl holding hands and appeared anxious to join the sailors in the rowboat.

Meanwhile, a conspicuous elderly man stood apart from his band of natives. Though seemingly advanced in years, his upright posture and rugged physique exude immortality and authority. He had on a headdress made of black and white pelican feathers, and donning other primitive symbols of chieftainship. He had a wooden staff in his right hand with the bottom tip thrust firmly into the sand. With his head bowed, he chanted in low audible whispers as if invoking the gods.

Then “Bang!”  A gunshot was fired into the midafternoon air. It broke the stillness and suspense of the moment. The natives cowered and the old man stopped chanting. He looked up above the ship, as if he was expecting something. Suddenly a white tern dove and perched on one of the ship’s sails and uttered repeated loud twitters as if in reproach and defiance. Hostile murmurs rippled through the provoked but subdued natives. They stood back by order of the elderly chief while allowing the trio to board the rowboat. The warriors tucked their clubs and spears while the rest of the group bowed their heads in grief. Soon the rowboat made its way back to the ship as the elderly chief waved, uttering some words of parting in a downhearted tone. 

A crow suddenly swooped in and hovered above the natives, fluttering its wings and cawing loudly as if mocking the group, and then soared back inland where it came from. As the ship was leaving, the tern, still perched on the sail, continued to utter long and sustained chirps to the sailors below. It too finally flapped its wings and took flight.

T.O.A: The Tifa (II)

Southern California (circa early twenty first century).

The tide rippled towards a remote shore as the early rising sun started to light up the San Diego horizon. It was midsummer and the air was warm. It was calm and quiet except for the chatters of the seagulls and other seabirds in flight or while perching on the rocks. The sinuous shadows of the surf spawned a peaceful foreground against the crimson backdrop and the whole scene could easily have been mistaken for a computer animation until a live disturbance ensued. A dark figure appeared among the waves in a shape of a winged silhouette. It lunged forward repeatedly. Its arms splashed against the water like a mysterious creature. It was gasping. The puffs sounded rapid and urgent as if it was being hunted and chased by a bigger and more ferocious predator.

The figure slowly emerged from the water. Its full form and outline now stamped against the crimson sky. It was a man. He was in his thirties and about six three, and was donning dark legskins. His head was clean shaven, his torso bare, toned and sculpted like that of a Greek statue. He continued to wade his way towards the beach still gasping and panting. The spongy sand sucked his bare calloused feet and he stumbled. He quickly regained his balance, stood back up and tipped his head towards the sky. He caught his breath, turned and faced the horizon and made some hand gestures as if performing a sun ritual. Once on the beach, he went straight into a drill of squats, push-ups and planks followed by a series of burpees -- all on the spongy surface. He struggled but determined to continue. “I’m gonna make it. I can and I will. Nothing will stop me,” he muttered as he tried to control his breathing through his routine. After his first few sets, he took a breather, walking around up and down the beach inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. The acrid salty air wafted up his nostrils and it made him cuss. He looked down at his water-and-sweat-dabbed physique and noticed how he glowed from the direct beams of the sunrise. He felt good. Then the stinging teasing words of his instructor echoed loudly in his mind. “Taylor, you will never be young again no matter how hard you try. You’re an old fart. Immortality is only for the gods.” The constant age stigma among his buddies again gnawed at his aspiring confidence. He nodded his head slowly in response as if he was issuing a “just you wait” goading and a dead reassurance on a burning and serious commitment. By doing that, he felt as if he just got something off his chest. He felt comforted as his huffs and puffs slowly returned to normal in near sync with the gentle claps of the lapping waves.

Suddenly, as if by impulse, he burst into a sprint then jogged off and disappeared into the distance.