Island’s political parties: image problem, no identifiable aims
Bermuda’s longest-lasting political party, the Progressive Labour Party, has a real image problem, with some arguing it has become an arrogant and out-of-touch supermajority government that has strayed far from its original values.
Bermuda’s youngest political party to hold office, the One Bermuda Alliance, while seemingly attracting young Bermudians en masse, has no clearly identifiable aims or values and is arguably the least effective opposition in Bermuda’s political history.
And in 2025, or sooner, we as young people, along with all of Bermuda, will be tasked with deciding between these two parties or a handful of virtually non-existent third parties and independents all seemingly running vendetta campaigns.
It’s needless to say the outlook is grim, and for many this is a contributing factor for emigrating from the island. With that in mind, and before we are called to the polls once again, I’d like to take a few moments to offer some reflections, ponder some possible solutions and pose some questions for us as a collective to think about.
As an astute student of Bermuda’s political history, a consummate advocate for Bermuda’s sound political future and one of Bermuda’s most politically active and conscious young people, I believe my voice and perspectives have significant value in this space and can hopefully provide some food for thought.
As a youngster, I vividly remember being so intrigued with Bermuda’s political narrative and I have always sought to learn as much as I can about it. While my public school education did little to support this endeavour as our political history is all but a footnote (getting no mention in Bermuda’s private schools, as I’ve been told), I have gained a solid understanding from my own studying, from asking questions and from engaging with some of Bermuda’s political icons.
Based on what I read, and what I was told, I have come to understand that Bermuda's political landscape is not just a tale of two parties but a complex web of ideologies, personalities and historical events that have shaped our island's governance. It is a narrative filled with triumphs and setbacks, visionaries and demagogues, progress and stagnation. This rich tapestry, however, seems to have faded over time, giving way to a political arena that is more about power struggles, personal egos and vendettas than about serving the public good.
The PLP, under the leadership figures such as Dame Lois Browne-Evans and Dame Jennifer Smith, once stood as a beacon of community, learning, mentorship and inclusivity. It was a political family where every member, regardless of their background, was united in the pursuit of equity, justice and collective liberation. This ethos attracted many to its ranks, inspired by the promise of a platform where diverse voices could thrive and contribute to the shaping of a more equitable society.
However, the reality I encountered when I joined the party in 2017, as the assistant national campaign manager and later the first chair of the revived youth wing, diverged significantly from these ideals. Despite our efforts, the youth voice often felt stifled by older members of the party, including its leadership.
Perhaps this has changed in recent years, as today’s youth wing seems to be quite active over the past year. As of the past ten to 15 years, leadership within the PLP appears increasingly centralised, with key positions and parliamentary opportunities seemingly reserved for those handpicked by the party leader, effectively sidelining voices of dissent and discouraging the involvement of young, diverse members.
The OBA, on the other hand, represents a different but equally challenging narrative. The vision that the late, great Shawn Crockwell and his political compatriot Mark Pettingill had for the OBA — a vision that led them to leave the party and serve as independents — seems lost. The departure of its founders left the OBA to be predominantly influenced by those with Eurocentric, colonial-era thinking, reminiscent of the now-defunct United Bermuda Party.
The UBP, known for its elitist and business-centric approaches, often prioritised private-sector interests over the needs of everyday citizens. As the OBA — or UBP lite as some have called it — continues to navigate its identity, it struggles with coherence. Its recently announced candidates appear to be running on platforms that are essentially independent, lacking a unified message beyond opposition to the PLP, thus failing to offer a compelling and collective alternative vision for Bermuda.
This dynamic between the PLP and OBA may well stem from a shared historical misstep: the incorporation of former UBP members into their upper echelons. Leaders such as Mr Crockwell, Ewart Brown and Paula Cox might have inadvertently diluted their parties' founding principles by allowing UBP ideologies into their strategic circles.
This blending of philosophies has arguably led both the PLP and OBA away from their original values, fostering a political environment where the focus on community, equity and justice has been compromised. This clash of values is perhaps why both parties are rife with infighting and seem to be having an identity crisis. The emergence of the Free Democratic Movement initially offered a glimmer of hope for a new direction, but it too has struggled, perceived by some as a platform for those disgruntled with the PLP.
This suggests that Bermuda's political landscape is in dire need of genuine renewal — one that revisits the foundational values of its parties and prioritises the wellbeing and aspirations of all Bermudians over the interests of a select few.
This disillusionment with the political process is not unique to Bermuda; it is a global phenomenon. Yet, for a small island community like ours, the implications are profound. Our size should be our strength, allowing for more direct and meaningful engagement between politicians, parties and the public. Instead, there appears to be a widening gap, with many Bermudians feeling alienated from the very people and institutions that are supposed to represent their interests.
So, what can be done? See part two tomorrow.
• Taj Donville-Outerbridge is an award-winning Bermudian human-rights activist, writer, and student studying at Kings College London. He also has a decade of involvement in Bermuda’s political system under his belt