TOWARD the end of his illustrious career, boxing great Muhammad Ali introduced the rope-a-dope.
Aware that he would not sustain his youthful energy, Ali used a technique in which he leaned against the ropes, and took jabs from his opponent, hoping to exhaust him.
The so-called bait-and-switch method worked for Ali, notably against George Foreman, one of his most fearsome adversaries.
Ali had the wisdom, foresight, and skill to adjust his manner for maximum success and an extended career.
Throughout the years, successful and people-centred politicians have altered their respective styles to match the evolving and vibrant societies they serve.
The inability – or refusal – to adapt comes with personal peril.
Change to match a dynamic marketplace is a hallmark of great leadership.
Prime Minister Dr. Keith Rowley came into national office in 2015 with his unique macho brand, which he had honed from two decades as the so-called “PNM Rottweiler,” a take-no-prisoners antagonist.
Rowley’s aggressive, gung-ho style contrasted with the affable, warm-hearted manner of Kamla Persad-Bissessar, whom he replaced as national leader.
He successfully peddled an emotion-driven tale of ethnic discrimination and he loosely promised a better day.
A sufficient number of people wanted a combative, even caustic, national leader, in the process misinterpreting him as a devoted champion of the masses.
In office, Rowley met every complaint about the declining quality of life with raging allegations of misuse of taxpayers’ funds and mal-governance against the Ms. Persad-Bissessar-led Opposition.
In the midst of a widening gulf between manifesto promises and the state of national affairs, the Prime Minister was dismissive, haughty, and overconfident.
There was growing public angst over the galloping crime rate, increasing poverty and unemployment, and the expanding divide between rich and poor.
But Rowley kept to his brand of a contentious – even destructive – protagonist.
It became evident that no one was minding the store, and the leader’s primary response to increasing frustration was a characteristic offensive.
The nation has not seen any purposeful efforts to confront the scourge of bloody crimes.
Despite the continuously sagging energy sector, there has been only lip service to the diversification of the economy.
Hardship, unemployment and other social and economic troubles have led to the decimation of the middle class and the inability to sustain personal lifestyles.
Eight years into his national leadership, is it evident that Rowley has no more cards to play, nor does he have the zeal and interest to remodel his style and to deliver to the nation.
Like many leaders, he is a one-horse pony.
Martin Luther King, the great civil rights leader, summed up public aggravation with the statement: “There come a time when a people get tired…”
They become drained by the unfilled promises and empty oratory of elected leaders.
Great leaders become change agents.
Rowley is among leaders of the developing world without an extensive history of managing people in any pursuit.
Such leaders often capture national positions through rousing rhetoric, partisan positioning, and vacuous messages of hope.
Time – and a people’s wrath – usually catches up with them.
People see through their public posturing and void form.
The politics of anger is not sustainable and is usually suited for a limited-period campaign – like equal rights.
There are major limitations to the politics of weaponising rage and fury.
This is especially so in a country like Trinidad and Tobago, where most people are easy-going and simply want an improved quality of life.
Rowley’s brand of blaming his political foes and refusing to accept responsibility for lack of performance is now wearing thin.
Identity politics never trumps a people’s will to feed their families, to be safe at their homes, and to move up in the world.
Now in his 70s, the Prime Minister would not adapt his manner to meet the public’s urgent and critical needs.
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
Rowley’s failure to adjust his style would impact what is left of his public life and would hurt his legacy.
Hopefully, it would teach aspiring politicians that bitterness is not a feasible demeanour and welcoming trait.
In the end, Rowley’s greatest lesson to Trinidad and Tobago may be a most essential warning not to adopt his political style.
Both ironic and sad!
