June 01, 2005 -Students and practitioners of journalism have long been preoccupied with speculation over the real identity of a mysterious figure known as DEEP THROAT, the central figure in the riveting story of Watergate that finally brought down Richard Nixon as president of the United States.
Deep Throat was the nickname used by Woodward and Bernstein, two young reporters of the Washington Post, to describe a confidential source that enabled them to crack the story of how then President Nixon abused his powers to pursue political enemies. The Watergate story of the burglary at the Democratic Headquarters building in Washington in 1972 featured a motley cast of characters, including an attorney general, some of whom were sentenced to jail for their role in the affair.
Watergate came to symbolize more than just a second rate burglary. It represented everything that was wrong with American democracy of that era: arrogance in the executive branch of government, the abuse of executive power in the pursuit of personal or political agenda, intimidation of political adversaries etc. And with the fall of Nixon in 1974, it was thought that the democratic process was rescued from a form of corrosion that was destined to do considerable harm to the nation's political culture.
Deep Throat remained a mystery until May 31, 2005 when a frail and ailing man of 91 came out publicly to announce that he was the man known by this colorful moniker. And so, it was confirmed by the Washington Post that Mark Felt, then number two at the FBI was indeed the character behind the mystery that changed the course of American democracy.
What is the significance of Deep Throat to the Dominica press and Dominica's democracy, one might ask. The answer is simple. The story of Watergate and Deep Throat played a significant role in molding a young amateur journalist who had just returned to Dominica from the United States where he pursued his education. It may be helpful to bear in mind that in those days the practice of journalism was radically different from what it is today in Dominica. The print media did very little investigative work and relied instead on government information releases for much of the stories printed. No one thought it appropriate to call a Minister of government to get him on record, or off record for a story of national importance. Few in the profession would develop sources and quote them in the media in support of the public's right to know. Even fewer thought that the art of journalism involved a commitment to illuminate the dark and hidden corners of the country and its politics which, if left untouched, could seriously jeopardize the liberties that we take for granted.
As a consequence of this new aggressiveness in the reporting and analysis of the news, the Dominica public was able to digest and act upon the various misdeeds committed by the government of the time. And the list is endless. By the end of the decade there was sufficient reason to seek the overthrow of a government that had taken the country through to the uncertain course of political independence. The people reclaimed their democracy for posterity.
And this was achieved not without our own versions of Deep Throat.
I will name only one publicly. The others, still living, will remain anonymous for practical and other considerations. The late Michael Douglas was a skillful politician who knew how to manipulate the press in pursuit of his political agenda. He was a regular caller who often disguised his voice to deliver information thought to be damaging to his political adversaries, and even those of his party and members of the cabinet with whom he served. He would call in the dead of night with tips to look into this, that or the other. Ours was a special relationship even though he felt free to bash me before his political cronies; I suppose this was his way of preserving the secret and unlikely relationship. In the end he suffered a cruel setback, as he was dismissed from his cabinet position in the John regime.
And lastly, I wish to place on record my secret meeting with another senior minister of that era who called to say that he had some important information to share. He said he would only meet under cover of darkness. He instructed me to show up at a cocoa field near Loubiere on the way to Grand Bay, accompanied by no one, at eight o'clock one evening in March, 1979. Afraid that I was being set up for harm I informed the late Bishop Arnold Boghaert, and my colleague Charles Maynard. I must confess to being considerably unnerved by the experience, as the silence of the night was broken by the ruffling of the cocoa leaves when my Dominica Deep Throat made his way to my location. Oh, one last thing. I packed a 38 revolver and strapped it to my side, concealed. Besides Maynard and the Bishop, I told no one, not even my wife.
The information provided by the minister led to a series of newspaper stories that eventually solidified the case against Prime Minister John. The rest is history.
As for the minister who provided information in the dark of the cocoa fields of Loubiere, he is still around, always with a bright smile on his face whenever he sees me, as if to remind me of our shared experience over a quarter of century ago.
The Deep Throats of the world are honorable figures, in my view. They save the nation from destruction from within. And for this we ought to be very grateful.