Over the years and for many societies and communities, there have been vanguards that, among other things, kept their leadership in check.

We can think of the lodges, churches other religious institutions, political groups, NGOs and other activist groups — all of whom played their roles in keeping both the society informed and a spotlight on leaders.

In the Bermuda of today, much of what we formerly had as vanguards has disappeared. Organisations such as the Nation of Islam, Black Berets and persons like Erskine “Buck” Burrows and Deon “Bobby” Bassett who while on the radical fringe were part of that armour that kept our leadership from straying too far off course.

Yes, I can recall a prominent Black lawyer once who was abducted and taken to the edge of a cliff by a group of Nation of Islam sympathisers. He was shown its bottom as the place where he would end if he did not desist on the path he was heading with his alleged criminality.

Even the more conservative yet vibrant institutions such as the Church have lost their teeth, now seemingly tending to the souls of people hoping they enjoy the bright side of heaven, while in the meantime allowing the community to deteriorate to a state of hell (pun intended).

We have lost our vanguards. The saying “When the cats are away, the mice will play” is a true indication of our present status. Buck, Larry Tacklyn and Bobby are dead; no need to look over their shoulders. Leaders can go on with impunity, feeling assured there will be no consequences

This newspaper, social media and talk radio are today the only palpable sources of checks that still exist. Many do not read The Royal Gazette because it has been propagandised as the medium of the Establishment, effectively eliminating it as a reliable check. WhatsApp has been the go-to and for many is like the underground railway of Harriet Tubman.

The lack of “perceived” reliable news or a fact-driven investigative-type news outlet has left the general public to invent their own medium, which may or may not be factual. Where there is no transparency and openness, the void will be filled with opinion and the public will choose which opinion appears most plausible.

Labour Day and its celebrations are fast approaching, but this year there seems to be a choice between attending either a new coalition of protest by several factions comprising teachers, parents affected by school closures, fishermen, farmers and special development order objectors, or those who feel deceived or betrayed by the leaders of the Bermuda Industrial Union and the Government.

It is an interesting contrast between choosing to march in commemoration of the 1981 island-wide strike and standing up in protest for the issues of the day. We live in a democracy, and it’s a marvellous display when all voices are heard.

Doubly interesting because over the past few months we have seen Ottiwell Simmons, who once would have led that Labour Day march, being buried in close succession to two other political pillars of the community — Arthur Hodgson and, most recently, Stanley Morton. One of whom, I can relay, at a family occasion broke down in tears and sobbed profusely. When asked why the tears, he said: “I never dreamt in all my years that my party would descend to this.”

I know this would never be said at any of those funerals, so it’s my delayed funeral tribute to these men whom I met frequently at what has been now popularly referred to at their respective funerals as “The Table”. This is where many senior men have committed to meet for more than three decades to discuss and have personal reflections on spiritual, biblical and social matters, and I can testify that while they all were deeply concerned about matters of their soul and therefore rest with peace in their souls, they left this realm with mutual disappointment in politics.

They were too proud and too wise to differentiate or distance themselves from their dreams and aspirations. After all, we are meant to live with hope and to pass on that hope and those dreams to the next generations that one day things will get better. Yet, we know in reality that hope, like faith without works, is vain.

Those men of yesterday wore cotton, not silk; walked in regular shoes, not $2,000 designers; and as leaders they chose to live among the people, not craving caviar and living in places such as Tucker’s Town with maids and tutors, while the people whom they represent and serve are on welfare and whose children face poor academic choices.

We might as well move union headquarters near to Tucker’s Point and have church service there, too. The reverend won’t mind because we can build a parsonage there; it’s the new Court Street and “we’re moving on up”. That is the ingrained sense that people are now reacting against, and it cannot be maintained.

It is difficult to see where all of this ends and whether or not this government and union will just become rubber-stamping headquarters as the country hands over control to others. Or whether some agency from the community will hold them to account.

Fifteen hundred years ago, when a man named Omar took the leadership of his country, he held up the constitution and told them he would lead by their constitution. A man in the crowd jumped to his feet, waving a sword, and shouted: “You won’t have to worry about that, we will hold you to it.”

John Locke, the 17th-century English philosopher known as the father of liberalism, made that similar contribution to what is a popular ethical position inherent in the US Constitution regarding the right to revolt and anarchy. Buck Burrows, Larry Tacklyn and Bobby Bassett for Bermuda were “that man in the crowd” of 1,500 years ago.

They, like him, are all dead now.