READING PETER WICKHAM'S COLUMN, People & Things, in the MIDWEEK NATION of June 25, brought back memories of the events leading up to the defection of Clyde Mascoll.

It cannot be denied that Mascoll increased the Opposition from two members to seven in the House of Assembly. On the face of it he seemed to be making some headway, but Mascoll would have always had a price to pay.

It will be recalled that Mascoll and his supporters were not very kind to Branford Taitt when he assumed the leadership position, and it is unlikely that the old brigade would have overlooked that treatment.

Mascoll would have felt he had the right to be the continued leader but the people thought otherwise.

At what point then should have Mascoll handed back over? For a peaceful settlement, I assume it would have had to be before any manoeuvre or bitter struggle for leadership took place. It is said that "politics, as a practice, whatever its profession, has always been the systematic organisation of hatreds". Because of the nature of politics and human affairs, it could not have been after the battle, although at that point Mascoll might have put pride aside and shown a united front in achieving the ultimate goal.

In the two-party system that exists, there are not many options open. "Do I remain, should I cross the floor or be just an independent member?"

Mascoll might have concluded, though erroneously, that the other side was his better alternative; he crossed and with that, disaffection followed. In a sense, he brought it on himself.

On hindsight, crossing the floor might have been misguided; surely it was a misjudgement that he could expect to cross over at the same level thereby superseding all before him.

In the words of a past politician: "In politics you must always keep running with the pack, the moment that you falter and they sense that you are injured, the rest turn on you like wolves".

It is accepted that "politicians are entitled to change their minds, but when they adjust their principles some explanation is necessary"; you can't vehemently criticise in one breath and in the next you are breathing praise for that you just criticised.

Mascoll might have considered, given the uncertainty of politics, that there was no guarantee that he would have been even honoured with the office of second-in-command since that would depend on whether the one in control shared the philosophy of forever looking over your shoulder.

He might have also felt that "maybe the only thing worse than having to give gratitude constantly all the time, is having to accept it"; the Lord giveth, there is no knowing when He will take.

It would be a pity if, although his political future may be in doubt, the benefit of Mascoll's intellect "as clearly one of his more attractive characteristics" as an economist and otherwise, is now permanently lost to the region.

– LUTHER G FRANCIS