Wednesday morning saw the debate
on the transfer of asylum and deportation responsibilities from the Lieutenant
Governor to the Minister of Home Affairs. This passed without difficulty but
not before Reform Jersey had provided some amusement to members in the form of
Dep. Montfort Tadier (Reform, St Brelade No. 2).
Tadier, whose recent house-move
outside the parish he represents suggests he might be looking for another seat at
the next election, opposed the transfer of powers by employing rhetoric which at
times wouldn’t have looked out of place in The
Office as words uttered to camera by David Brent. In particular, gravely
telling members that transferring asylum and deportation responsibilities to
the Home Affairs Minister would be a “logical fallacy”, was straight out of the Slough paper-merchant's phrasebook.
The general consensus among States
members is that this change won't be a big deal, given the relatively low amount of
asylum and deportation cases which the Island currently deals with. Irrespective of this, Monty did his best
to back up his opponents’ argument - and shoot down his own in the process
- when he made the admission that the only Jersey asylum case he had heard about
was the one everyone else has; the one of the Iranian bloke who turned up in a
car boot at the harbour last year but was later granted asylum in the UK
because he had stayed too long to be sent back to France. Tad regaled the House
with a story of how he had taken the unlucky Iranian out to lunch in St
Brelade’s Bay, ostensibly to show him “a beautiful corner of our lovely Island”
(at least until a few apartment blocks
pop up down there). After the obligatory shoe-horning of a recent UK event into
the debate - this time the Grenfell Tower disaster for some reason - Brent/Tadier
then moved into top grandstanding gear to show the House what a caring,
right-on chap he was, asking fellow members rhetorically, “Are brown/black
lives inherently less valuable than white British lives?” However, he quickly
realised that he'd taken a shit with his clothes on by implying all British people were white and hastily added “or non-white
British lives?” as an afterthought.
After letting the House into the world of Monty the Tour Guide, Monty the Politician unfortunately resurfaced
in his reference to Jersey being “caught with its pants down” over the Iranian
asylum case. Unparliamentary language? Maybe, admitted Monty. Maybe, indicated
Dep. Geoff Southern (Reform, St Helier No. 2). Unfortunately, the correction was
equally as terrible as Tadier suggested that Jersey had been “caught short” over the issue (well, at least we had taken our pants down
first).
The main thrust of Tad’s argument
was that although, in his own words, he was “not a monarchist”, he would nonetheless
keep the “reassuring” presence of the Lieutenant Governor in the Assembly and
he would rather keep deportation out of the political arena, leaving the
responsibilities to be dealt with by someone who is not either a politician or
answerable to the people. This placed Reform Jersey in the rather unusual
position of being a left-wing political party defending the right of an
unelected, unaccountable and unqualified Lieutenant Governor to sit in a big
house on St Saviour’s Hill ruling on which people get to stay in the Island,
without any personal consequences attached to his decisions.
Things became even more surreal in the Chamber when
Tadier suggested that the reason Dep. Kristina Moore (St Peter) could not make asylum
or deportation decisions as Home Affairs Minister was because she may be a
Senator in future (eh?) or even Chief
Minister (approbation from one member).
According to Monty, this would mean members of the public would approach her in
the supermarket to ask “why are you keeping all these foreigners here?” (Monty needn’t worry; politicians listening
to constituents? It’ll never catch on.)
After some more guff about appeal
mechanisms and human rights which even had Southern yawning in the seat next to
him, the learned Montfort concluded by saying he was “suspicious” of any move
from a tried and tested method which works and he didn’t see the need for
change (spoken like a true conservative).
Much of the rest of the day was
taken up in committee, debating the Jersey Innovation Fund balls-up. Being in
committee, the debate in the House was more insightful than usual but, given
this was about the Innovation Fund, it also meant severe overexposure
to Sen. Philip Ozouf. When called upon to speak Ozouf launched into self-justification
mode to defend himself as expected but, given that he’s been sat outside the headmaster’s
office writing lines on most things he’s touched in his 18-year political
career, this time it felt more like a Greatest Hits collection.
Sounding like a man trying to
cling on to his job, instead of one who had already been bin-bagged the morning
before, Phil did his customary angry-spider impression for over an hour,
getting the claws out on his former colleagues in the Council of Ministers on
several occasions. Eventually, with the time approaching 4 pm, the Bailiff told
the Senator he was repeating himself and saved members from listening to much more
from the Ozouf back-catalogue of self-pity. Contrite as ever, Ozouf whined that
members hadn’t taken seriously what he was saying and he felt he was being
doubted by some in the House (though why
he felt keeping them stuck in the Chamber on a baking hot afternoon in June
would change their minds about him is anybody’s guess).
Time after time, when giving way
to fellow members, Sen. Ozhuff flung himself back into his seat like a sulky
teenager whose parents have said he can’t go on a weekend away with his mates. Phil
also spoke of how he’d learnt more from the Innovation Fund fallout than he was
previously told, but he couldn’t take the blame for an accounting
officer who one is unable to “hold to account” (that means “sack”, for those who aren't familiar with Phil-speak).
All that was left for Ozhuff was
to fall back on the politics of good intentions, complaining that he had tried
his best in an impossible situation. He ended by insisting he was happy to be
judged on his actions and to take responsibility, but that taking “responsibility”
did not necessarily equate with him being to “blame” for anything that had
happened (not that he’s ever to blame for
anything else either). That’s the name of the game for Teflon Phil; responsibility
without consequences. Maybe one day he’ll
end up as Lieutenant Governor handling asylum and deportation cases in a Reform
Jersey government…
No comments:
Post a Comment