There is the message and there is the messenger. Hence the proverb, usually attributed to Confucius, that “when a wise man points at the moon, an idiot looks at his finger”. Now the way the moon reacts to the message is what seals the deal.

In the atomic bomb dropped on the country this week, Sherry Singh is the messenger. Admittedly, the message he delivered was wrapped up in an unmistakable, though perfectly legitimate, political ambition and the man marketed his exit proclaiming manifold values many of which would not pass the lie detector test. Few people believe that the father of Safe City, which he is still defending, who has been an integral part of a rotten system for so long has left a Rs700,000 job because he refused to spy on us or because of sudden  pangs of guilt. 

Having said that, the fact remains that he delivered a very grave message that we have to consider independently of the messenger. We have to stop the obsession of focusing on the finger and look beyond that into the moon, a very dark place from my vantage point. 

To begin with, Singh was at the heart of the system since the Jugnauths got into power. So there are few people who don’t believe that he knows what he is talking about. Nor is there anyone naïve enough to believe that, considering Pravind Jugnauth’s vindictive nature, Singh would have dared breathe a word about the espionage scandal if he hadn’t secured irrefutable proof about it. So just by opening his mouth on Radio Plus last Friday evening, he scored the first point against his new opponents, Pravind Jugnauth and his family. As Singh was orchestrating an impressive exit with all the honours, Jugnauth was sinking into disrepute by being exposed as an anti-patriot, anti-democrat, who wanted to intrude into our private lives and a traitor prepared to sell his own country for personal gain; a weak prime minister who is the puppet of a kitchen headed by “Lady Macbeth”, who decides everything that goes on in the country. The score in this pitiless battle: Singh: 1; Jugnauth: 0. 

But a deadly goal came from Jugnauth’s own camp. An own goal in fact. When he faced journalists standing – not at an official formal press conference of course but – after yet another inauguration, his characteristic arrogance, irritability, aggressive body language, scowls and signature attempt at intimidation, followed by an unconvincing denial of a most serious act dealt a decisive blow to any doubts anyone may have had about the veracity of the high treason accusation.  The levity with which this was treated by a vindictive prime minister who misses no opportunity to sue journalists and political opponents for mild criticism started alarm bells blaring. Updated score: Singh: 2; Jugnauth: still 0. 

The final blow however came in the national assembly on Tuesday. The speaker exceeded all our expectations: he did not allow the first supplementary question even before he heard it in full, he threw all the members of the opposition out and named all of them! And he cut off the mike of the leader of the opposition as soon as he heard the beginning of a question about what happened on April 15th at 10.18 am! 

As it happens, I don’t blame the speaker. Like all the chatwa appointed to posts well above their competence and qualifications, he doesn’t know any better. What is more shameful is a prime minister hiding behind a bully to avoid facing up to his acts! That is the most revolting part of this whole saga. 

It is also most damming. Those who started the day with doubts about high treason and invasion of our privacy saw all those doubts removed when they watched the aborted proceedings in the national assembly. So score update: Singh 3, Jugnauth 0.

But the score is one thing; the war another. The messenger has to face entire institutions having sold the dignity, independence and panache they once had and a shameless prime minister who cares little about clearing his name as long as he stays in power. Those who fought the Angus Road war know how tough this battle is.