Front Cover
 Table of Contents
 Front Matter
 Back Cover


Digitization of this item is currently in progress.
Caribbean Review
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00095576/00037
 Material Information
Title: Caribbean Review
Physical Description: Serial
Language: English
Creator: Latin American and Caribbean Center, Florida International University
Publisher: Latin American and Caribbean Center, Florida International University
Place of Publication: Miami, FL
Publication Date: 1981
Copyright Date: 1980
Genre: serial   ( sobekcm )
 Record Information
Source Institution: FIU: Special Collections
Holding Location: FIU: Special Collections
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 1553369
System ID: UF00095576:00037

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Table of Contents
        Page 1
    Front Matter
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text


SVol. XNo. 2
Three Dollars

- Ps

The Status of Democracy in Jamaica, Guyana, Trinidad and Tobago,
the Eastern Caribbean, Bermuda, Suriname, and Puerto Rico.


In Latin




* Over 55 Latin American and
Caribbean related courses in
the University.
* Certificate requirements include:
successful completion of five Latin
American and/or Caribbean
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* Certificate program is open to
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seeking students.
* Expanded University support as a
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and Area Center.
* Expanded Library holdings in
Latin American-Caribbean
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distinguished visiting scholars in
Latin American and Caribbean

Latin American-Caribbean Studies
Ricardo Arias, Philosophy and
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Judson M. DeCew, Political Science
Grenville Draper, Physical Sciences
Luis Escovar, Psychology
Robert Farrell, Education
Gordon Finley, Psychology
Robert Grosse, International
John Jensen, Modern Languages
Charles Lacombe, Anthropology
Barry B. Levine, Sociology
Anthony P Maingot, Sociology
James A. Mau, Sociology
Floretin Maurrasse, Physical
Ramon Mendoza, Modern
Raul Moncarz, Economics
Pedro J. Montiel, Economics
Mark B. Rosenberg, Political Science
Reinaldo Sanchez, Modem
Jorge Salazar, Economics
Mark D. Szuchman, History
William T. Vickers, Anthropology
Maida Watson Breslin, Modern
For further information, contact:
Latin American-Caribbean Center
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Miami, Florida 33199

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On Latin America
and the Caribbean
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Center of Florida International
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SPRING1981 Vol.XNo.2 ThreeDollars

Barry B. Levine

Associate Editors
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In this issue


page 5
page 5

page 14

The Status of Democracy in the 4
By Barry B. Levine

Jamaica's 1980 Elections 5
What Manley Did Do; What Seaga Need Do
By Carl Stone

Guyana's 1980 Elections 8
The Politics of Fraud
By Lord Avebury and the E.riiihr Parliamentary
Human Rights Group

The Church That Williams Built 12
Electoral Possibilities in Trinidad and Tobago
By Selwyn Ryan

Elections and Parties in 14
the Eastern Caribbean
A Historical Survey
By Patrick Emmanuel

Changing the Guard in Dominica 18
Elections and a Hostage Crisis
By Robert A. Michaels

Race and Democracy in Bermuda 20
The Fight for the Right
By Frank E. Manning

Politicians in Uniform 24
Suriname's Bedeviled Revolution
By Gary Brana-Shute

Puerto Rico's 1980 Elections 28
The Voters Seek the Center
By Harold Lidin

La Fortaleza Replies 32
A Response to "Puerto Rican Culture
at the Turning Point"
By Loretta Phelps de C6rdova et als.

The Black Power Killings in Trinidad 36
Naipaul's New Book of Essays
Reviewed by Gerald Guinness

Rockers 38
A Different Image of Jamaica
A Film Review by Aaron Segal

Recent Books 53
An Informative Listing of Books about
the Caribbean, Latin America and their
Emigrant Groups
By Marian Goslinga

Las Luchas Por El Seguro Social
En Costa Rica
Mark B. Rosenberg
Este libro es uno de los es-
tudios, sino el unico, mAs
amplio y riguroso sobre la
historic de la reform social en
Costa Rica, centrado de pre-
ferencia en el Seguro Social y
el papel de la Caja Costa-
rricense de Seguro Social. El
ensayo, es complete, en el sen-
tido que abarca la reform so-
cial durante casi toda la vida
independiente de Costa Rica.
Su vastisima informaci6n
proviene de las mas variadas
fuentes: entrevistas, libros,
documents, actas de juntas
directives y toda clase de

Editorial Costa Rica
San Jose, Costa Rica

Avances en


Gordon E. Finley
Gerardo Marin
Las mas significativas y recientes
aportaciones al pensamiento psicol6gico
del continent americano, expuestas por
sus propios autores, se han logrado
conjuntar en este valioso texto que
permitira tanto a profesionales como a
estudiantes de psicologia actualizar
sus conocimientos.
B.F. Skinner, Edwin I. Megargee, Rogelio
Diaz-Guerrero, Ruben Ardila y otros
reconocidos psic6logos desarrollan en esta
obra diversos temas cuyo studio result
imprescindible, por igual, para aquellos
que se desempenan en el ambito de la
ciencia de la conduct, y para quienes se
aprestan a hacerlo.
Editorial Trillas, S.A.
Av. 5 de Mayo 43-105, Mexico 1, D.E



and Integration

in Urban Argentina


By Mark D. Szuchman

Between the 1870s, when the great influx
of European immigrants began, and the
start of World War I, Argentina underwent a
radical alteration of its social composition
and patterns of economic productivity.
Mark Szuchman, in this groundbreaking
study, examines the occupational, resi-
dential, educational, and economic patterns
of mobility of some four thousand men,
women, and children who resided in
Cordoba, Argentina's most important
interior city, during this changeful era.
The use of record linkage as the essential
research method makes this work the first
book on Argentina to follow this very
successful research methodology employed
by modern historians.

290 pages, $19.95

University of Texas Press 083
Please send copies of Mobility and Integration in
Urban Argentina at $19.95 ea. Texas residents add 5% sales
0 Check Enclosed l VISA [E MasterCharge
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he rapid growth of crime and violence in the Caribbean
Spouses dramatic challenges to the citizens and govern-
ments in the region, who increasingly seek and even demand
immediate solutions. This first collection of articles on the
subject presents the results of investigations in the Dutch-,
French-, English-, and Spanish-speaking Caribbean, under-
taken by both scholars and civil servants currently at work in
the area.
The Role of the Sentencer in Dealing with Criminal Offenders
in the Commonwealth Caribbean-Delroy Chuck; Urban
Crime and Violence in Jamaica-Dudley Allen; Crime and
Treatment in Jamaica-Dudley Allen; Rape and Socio-Eco-
nomic Conditions in Trinidad and Tobago-Kenneth Pryce
and Daurius Figueira; Reflections on the Problem of Urban
Crime and Violence in Puerto Rico-Rafael Santosdel Valle;
A Profile of the State of Criminology in Haiti-Max Carre;
Urban Crime and Violence in Guyana-Michael Parris; A Sur-
vey of the Guyanese Prison Population: A Research Note
-Michael Parris; Planned Research into the Criminological
Consequences of the Mass Transmigration of the Bush
Negroes in Suriname-A. Leerschool-Liong A Jin; Women
and Violent Crime in Suriname-J. M. M. Binda
x, 146 pages. Maps, charts, tables, index. ISBN: 0-8130-0685-6,
LC 80-21078. Paper, $6.00 U.S.
A publication of the Center for Latin American Studies,
University of Florida
with assistance from the Association of Caribbean
Universities and Research Institutes (UNICA)
Orders from individuals must be prepaid and include 85 cents shipping
and handling charge. Florida orders add 4 percent state sales tax.
famu /fau /fiu /fsu /ucf/uf/unf/usf/uwf
15 NW 15 Street / Gainesville FL 32603

Barry B. Levine shatters
the myth of the victimized



A Picaresque Tale
of Emigration and Return
"Benjy Lopez's story is not one of despair and
resignation; it is a picaresque adventure in which
the hero works his way through and around the
labyrinth of race, ethnicity, class, and bu-
reaucracy in the cosmopolitan world of New York
City ... Lopez rejects conformity, but his deviance
is strategic rather than decadent decadence is
often a surprise to him. As far as I can gather, this
book is for him an attempt to convince the reader
of the value and ingenuity of the way he has done
things: perhaps differently, maybe even better,
the result of a man who rejects foregone conclu-

Using the first-person technique pioneered by
Oscar Lewis, noted sociologist Barry B. Levine
records and analyzes the life story of a Puerto
Rican emigrant, "one of the most colorful charac-
ters to make an appearance in sociological litera-
ture.... Barry Levine has that increasingly rare
gift, the sociological ear. In this book, we have the
result of his listening."
-Peter Berger
"A labor of love for Puerto Rico and its plight, and
a fine piece of scholarship."
-Ed Vega,
"Levine has rescued Third World man from in-
dignity.... believe that few works will better
demonstrate the circumstances of the Puerto
Rican in New York than this one."
-Miguel Barnet,
Caribbean Review
$12.95 at bookstores, or direct from the publisher

10 East 53rd Street, New York 10022


The Status of


in the Caribbean

During the last US election,a depress-
ing malaise surrounded America's
ability to carry out its foreign policy
objectives. On the one hand, Carter
had redefined objectives to more ideal-
istic ends, whileon the other hand, Iran
and Afghanistan typified and symbol-
ized the feeling that America had be-
come impotent internationally, no
longerableto influence the world con-
cerning even projects of undeniable
worth. As a consequence, when con-
templating the Caribbean and the re-
cent coming to power of the Sandinis-
tas in Nicaragua and the Bishop New
Jewel Movement in Grenada, it ap-
peared that the Caribbean was fore-
going its long standing commitment to
democratic politics, a commitment the
US favored.
This issue of Caribbean Review on
the status of democracy in the Carib-
bean is an attempt to assess the validity
of that fear. Readers of the articles
published here will wonder whether
the malaise should have been applied
to the Caribbean in the first place. The
last two years have seen a flurry of
elections throughout the area. In 1979,
elections were held in St. Lucia (July)
and St. Vincent and the Grenadines
(December). In 1980, there were elec-
tions in St. Kitts and Nevis (February),
Antigua (April), Dominica (July), Ja-
maica (October), Puerto Rico (No-
vember), Bermuda (December) and,
perfunctorily, in Guyana (December).
Elections will have taken place in Bar-
bados and in Trinidad and Tobago
before the end of this year. And soon
thereafter in Santo Domingo.
Nor do the results of the elections
portend a radicalization of the area.
No matter how one qualifies the results
with cautious understatement, the
Caribbean today is by and large gov-
erned by democracy-respecting prag-
matic regimes. Fears that elections
would not take place in Jamaica, for
example, were ill-founded. Jamaica
and Dominica are today ruled by less
ideological administrations. In Bermu-
da, the electorate made no changes.
In Puerto Rico, the vote was such that

the government will not be able to
make any changes in its status. Recent
electoral politics in the region manifest
a kind of caution on the part of the
electorate toward dramatic change.
Clearly, democracy is alive in the
Caribbean today. And just as clearly,
the region has stepped back from radi-
cal soundings and is more conserva-
tive than in the recent past. How deep
the step back is has not yet been made
clear Moreover, the attack against
democratic institutions has not just
come from the left. The electoral fiasco
in Guyana does not have a leftist
foundation. Nor does, to this date, the
coup in Suriname. Nor does the gov-
ernment in Haiti. For democracy to
truly flourish in the region, not only will
it have to be restored in those states
governed by leftist dictatorships, but
in these states as well.
The totality of the articles presented
in this issue should allow the reader to
judge for himself the status of Carib-
bean democracy. Out articles cover
Jamaica, Guyana, Trinidad and To-
bago, the Eastern Caribbean, Bermu-
da, Suriname and Puerto Rico. Our
coverage is as broad as it is thorough.
We had not planned to make this a
special-topic issue. We do so only
when there is a coalescence of events
in the real world that demands it. The
plethora of elections and their results
plainly do.

On The Cover' "Creative Imagination" by
the Jamaican artist, Sidney McLaren
(1977, mixed media, 29 x 41). From the
collection of the Museum of Modern Art
of Latin America (OAS), Washington, D.C.

By Carl Stone

ost overseas observers of Jamaican
politics were completely taken by
surprise by the massive defeat of
the Peoples National Party (PNP) led by
former Prime Minister Michael Manley in the
1980 Jamaican parliamentary election. Man-
ley through excellent press promotion pro-
jected an image of complete confidence in
the irreversibility of the mass support for his
left of center foreign and domestic policies.
After all, Manley's party, the PNP, had won a
massive 57% to 43% popular vote victory
over the opposition Jamaica Labor Party
(JLP) as recently as 1976 in an election that
was promoted as a show-down between
PNP socialism and JLP capitalism.
Mr. Manley's PNP controlled all the media
organs except the Daily Gleaner which his
party accused of being an agent of imperi-
alism and therefore untrustworthy in its

Jamaican Prime MinisterE j :' '.* '- i. ., ".
campaign. Wide World Photos.



1980 Elections

What Manley Did Do; What Seaga Need Do

prognostications. Government media gave
the impression that Mr. Manley's PNP was
due to ride back into power for a third term
without difficulty. Suggestions to the con-
trary were treated as the work of political
saboteurs and the CIA.
Public opinion polls published by this
author in the Daily Gleaner presented a
different picture, documenting the drop in
PNP strength between 1976 and 1980. Both
the PNP and the JLP dropped in popularity
between November 1976 and November
1978, with the PNP losing mass support
faster than the JLP. In that two year period
the JLP had overcome the huge 1976 PNP
popular vote majority. At the same time un-
committed voters emerged as the plurality
within the Jamaican electorate. A second
trend developed during 1979 and increased
its momentum in 1980. Defecting PNP
voters, unattached new voters, and disillu-
sioned JLP voters increasingly saw the JLP
as an alternative to the PNP. The ranks of the
JLP swelled reducing the level of uncom-
mitted partisans back to the minority it was

in late 1976. Between November 1978 and
March 1980 the JLP assumed a command-
ing position over the PNP; that lead was
maintained and consolidated in the period
leading up to the election in October 1980.

Public Opinion, 1976
Three major issues shaped the pattern of
public opinion in the period approaching
the 1976 election: the state of the economy,
ideology and the popularity and credibility of
the two principal party leaders, Michael
Manley and Edward Seaga.
Although 67% of the electorate was re-
corded as being opposed to communism in
1976, the impact of ideology favored the
PNP in the 1976 elections for two reasons.
Sixty-nine percent of the electorate rejected
the JLP line that the PNP was leading
Jamaica towards communism and the ma-
jority viewed the Cuban presence favorably
(63%) believing their presence to be tech-
nical and economic. Additionally, the PNP's
non-communist socialist position was identi-
fied with a number of popular public policies

and projects seen as benefitting the majority
of working people: the Ministry of Agricul-
ture's Project Land Lease, the National
Minimum Wage, sugar co-operatives and
low income housing efforts.
Even at this critical juncture the PNP was
split between two-thirds which supported a
moderate ideological position and one-third
who actively embraced more leftist posi-
tions. The coalition was held together by a
common thread of unity behind the char-
ismatic leadership of the PNP's Michael
Manley who at the time appealed to both
leftists and moderates among the party's
rank and file. Manley's popularity rating
stood at 60% in the later months of 1967.
Manley, according to this poll, was three
times as popular as his rival leader in the
JLP, Edward Seaga. Manley articulated and
symbolized the demand for equality, justice
and a new social order which was the
essential message of his party's socialist
line. Seaga, the JLP leader, was seen as a
mere technocrat who might be able to
balance a budget but who was identified

with class-racial interests that were asso-
ciated with the status quo. Though in govern-
ment Manley represented a militant op-
position to the status quo while Seaga was
seen as a political force supporting en-
trenched vested interests in this class domi-
nated society.
Although economic hardships had begun
to emerge in 1976 and as much as 64% of
the electorate felt that conditions in the
country had clearly worsened, the state of
the economy did not greatly help the op-
position JLP as only a minority of the
electorate (30%) blamed that problem on
the policies of the Manley government As
much as 62% of the electorate blamed
agents other than the government for the
hardships experienced.
The JLP line in the 1976 election was to
attackthe PNPfor being pro-communist, for
mismanaging the economy and for having
leaders who had been discredited by their
poor management of public affairs. The
PNP promise to raise living standards
through people-oriented social projects dis-
pelled the doubts which had developed over
increasing joblessness and the rising costof
living. The effect was to neutralize the JLP
criticisms about PNP economic misman-
agement. The credibility of the PNP leader
coupled with his seemingly sincere denials
of the JLP accusation of communist lean-
ings similarly diffused JLP criticisms about
PNP communist leanings in spite of the fact
that the dominant mood in the electorate in
the later months of 1976 was anti-com-
munist. During the period between Novem-
ber 1976 and November 1978 this edifice of
pro-PNP popular sentiment was undone.
The coalition of interests which kept the
PNP in power in the December 15, 1976,
election was very different from the class
coalition on which the PNP had come to
power in 1972. In 1972 the PNP earned the
majority of the vote among big business,
manual wage labor, white collar workers,
and the unemployed. By the 1976 election
an overwhelming majority of the big busi-
ness shifted to theJLP White collarworkers
followed with substantial swings to the JLP
while manual wage labor along with the un-
employed shifted to the PNP in large num-
bers. The overall effect was to polarize the
class voting pattems between socialist and
non-socialist tendencies. Each vote lost by
the PNPin the middle and upper reaches of
the urban class structure was compensated
for by gains among the working class and
the unemployed. In the rural areas slippage
from the PNP occurred in some peasant
areas but was compensated for the PNP
gains in other peasant areas. The PNP of
December 1976 looked like a traditional
European socialist party that had covered a
huge majority of the votes of the working
class and urban poor, while its more ideo-
logically conservative rival controlled the
middle strata vote. Other than the main

Prime Minister Edward Seaga and US President Ronald Reagan and their wives. Wide World


urban center of Kingston and St. Andrew
the preponderance of PNP strength in ur-
ban, main road and many rural peasant
areas gave the PNP a massive vote lead
across the parishes.

Class Shifts
Table two shows the shifts in the alignments
of classes supporting the PNP over the three
time points of electoral choice 1972 repre-
sented an all-class coalition with no distinct
class appeals but by 1976, the PNP appealed
to the lower strata and was hostile towards
the middle and upper strata. 1980 repre-
sented a shedding of those who had be-
come alienated by developments in the PNP
in the post-1976 period. In the course of this
shedding of critical support from a wide
cross-section of classes, the PNP lost its
distinctive class appeal among the lower
socio-economic groups.
Between 1976 and October 1980 the
PNP's comfortable majorities among the
working class and the peasantry had eroded.
The lower middle class white collar group
had over that period become a large JLP
majority. Minority JLP standings among
these, the numerically largest occupational
groups, had become large majorities be
tween the 1976 and the 1980 elections.
Something very profound must have hap
opened to disturb these class alignments and
shift the balance of the class forces in favor
of the more conservative JLP leadership
over the period.
In a curious sense, it could be argued that
the more educated white collar and busi-
ness groups saw through the inadequacies
of the PNP in 1976. Similarly the less

educated strata followed that lead in the
1980 elections. An emergent pattern of
polarized class voting influenced by class
and social responses to divergent socialist
and anti-socialist appeals had suddenly re-
verted to pre-1972 pattems.
In 1980 as in 1976 the dominant issues
centered on ideology, the management of
the economy and the credibility of the
competing party leaders, a virtual replay of
the 1976 campaign. The difference was,
however, that the impact of the issues on the
electorate was completely reversed on all
three vital issues. The issues which moti-
vated reactions against the PNP among the
peasantry and the working class were no
different from those which motivated similar
responses from the affluent capitalists and
the middle class.
The optimism of the Jamaican working
people that the people-oriented policies of
Manley's PNP could guidethe economy out
of its difficulties was short lived. That opti-
mism was shattered by the severe decline in
living standards experienced after the 1976
election, the escalating pattern of unem-
ployment, acute shortages of basic imported
food items, the continued rise in the cost of
living and the atmosphere of gloom which
pervaded privately-owned industries where
workers operated under the constant threat
of closures and lay-offs due to the scarcity of
foreign exchange.
The impact of these factors increased as
a consequence of the fact that International
Monetary Fund (IMF) borrowing tied the
PNP government after 1976 to conservative
fiscal policies. These policy constraints
brought an end to the unregulated ex-



pension of public spending by which the
PNP attempted to disguise the downturn in
the economy. The PNP and its leader had
promised much and aroused many hopes
in the socialist mobilization of the 1974 to
1976 period. The fact that the objective
realities seemed to get worse rather that
better eroded the credibility of socialism as a
path to economic and social gains for the
majority. As the government through its
high profile projections in the media as-
serted that socialism was now in command
of the Jamaican economy and proceeded
through intensified leftist rhetoric to interpret
events and developments in the country in
socialist terms, more and more voters came
to regard the PNP government as the prin-
cipal agent responsible for the deteriorating
economic situation. Whereas in the weeks
approaching the 1976 elections only 30% of
the electorate held the governing PNP re-
sponsible for the economic decline while a
majority of more than 60% blamed interests
other than the government for being at the
root of the causes, the situation was com-
pletely reversed by the early months of 1980.

unemployed through community and face
to face networks of communication.
Unemployment stood at 35% of the labor
force in the months approaching the 1980
election. More importantly, the structure of
the employed or the income-earners was
altered to reflect the increasing immiseration
taking place in the economy. As jobs in the
private sector declined due to lay-offs, more
and more persons sought refuge in the
petty commodity sector of small scale trad-
ers who took over the sidewalks of the
main urban centers. Public sector jobs
increased with large increases in public

A tactless act by the
Cuban Ambassador
turned the communism
issue into a winner for
the JLP.

Former Jamaican Prime Minister Michael Manley during the campaign. Wide World Photos.

Polls taken by this author over that period
confirmed that as much as 60% of the
electorate now held the Manley government
responsible for the economic hardships
being experienced. Even where other agents
were seen as contributing to the problems
(e.g., the world economy), the PNP govem-
ment was increasingly perceived as the
main force responsible for the very aggra-
vated economic and social hardships. These
new perspectives effectively spread from the
anti-PNP and alienated middle and lower-
middle class as well as the business and
management groups to the working class
and thereafter to the peasantry and the

spending but the rate of job creation fell far
short of the increasing need by those leaving
the school system. When the PNP came to
power in 1972 approximately 33% of the
labor force consisted of own account
workers mainly in petty trades, artisan pro-
duction and small farming. Due to the
structural changes in the composition of the
labor force, these petty commodity traders
and producers grew to as much as 46% of
the persons earning money income by the
end of the PNP's term of office. Public sector
employment grew massively from 10% to
20% of the labor force, while private sector
employment withered from 57% to a small

34% over the period. Paralleling these struc-
tural changes was the harsh reality of a more
than 50% increase in the level of unem-
ployment between the early and later stages
of the PNPs period of government
In an economy heavily dependent on
basic food imports the shortage of foreign
exchange which became acute bordering
on crisis levels in 1980 resulted in persistent
food shortages. The impact on increased
shortages of raw materials was just as
problematic as traditionally buoyant sectors
of the economy such as manufacturing,
distribution and construction declined in
output and employment levels. Local capi-
talists claimed quite vociferously that they
were operating under harassment of ideo-
logical intimidation from PNP leftists; the
JLP contended that all of this was a delib-
erate strategy to destroy the private sector
to set up communism. As the PNP's man-
agement of the economy generated greater
and greater pessimism, JLP criticism and
private sector complaints acquired increas-
ing credibility among workers and peasants

Tactless Ambassador
A tactless act by the Cuban Ambassador in
abusing the JLP leadership at a time when
that opposition leadership was emerging as
a powerful voice of criticism turned the
communism issue into a winner for theJLP
Manley compounded the error by marching
in the streets on behalf of the Cuban and
against the Daily Gleaner and the JLP
opposition. This episode converted the la-
tent but powerful anti-communist sentiment
in the electorate into vocal support for the
anti-communist, anti-Cuban line of the JLP
(which sentiment failed to have any impact
in the 1976 election). In 1980 that issue
reinforced the economic basis of discon-
tent with the PNP govemment and turned
the tide of public opinion heavily against
Manley and the PNP The JLP emerged out
of this issue wearing the mantle of national
leadership poised against a foreign and
ideologically alien country which was being
put above the interests of Jamaica and
Jamaicans by Manley and the PNP
Support for socialism as an approach to
economic management dropped consider-
ably between 1976 and 1980. As this leftist
ideological appeal waned its impact in erod-
ing the credibility of the PNP and its leader-
ship intensified. The PNP leadership was
split between moderates and leftists. Be-
tween 1976 and 1980 the leftists were
perceived to be taking over the PNP This
perception was reinforced by the PNP's
decision to break with the IMF in the months
leading up to the election, the electorate
witnessed a debate within the party which
saw the leftist leadership supported by the
communist WPJ (theJamaica Worker Party)
advocating the IMF break while the PNP
Continued on page 40



1980 Elections

By Lord Avebury and the British
Parliamentary Human Rights Group

In the December 1980 elections in
Guyana, Forbes Bumham was named
Executive President. His ruling People's
National Congress was assigned 41 of
the 53 national assembly seats, the
remaining 12 seats were shared by the
two opposition parties: the People's Pro-
gressive Party, ten, and the United Front,
two. Governmental figures gave 78% of
406,265 votes to the PNC, 19% to the
PPR and 3% to the OF. The report of the
International Observer Team about those
elections was originally published in offi-
cial outline form by the British Parliamen-
tary Human Rights Group on February
16, 1981. The official report was
unanimously adopted by the eleven
member team who between them had
extensive experience participating in and
observing elections in many countries.
Based on their experiences the team
drew up a set of implicit criteria for fair
elections against which the Guyana Elec-
tions were judged. The Editors at Carib-
bean Review have synthesized the data
contained in the official report into the fol-
lowing essay.
he republic of Guyana, with a popula-
tion of some 850,000 is located in the
northeast comer of mainland Latin
America. Although geographically part of
South America, it is culturally and histori-
callycloser to the Caribbean. Ninety percent
of the population lives on a coastal strip
about ten miles wide. Politics, particularly
over the last 25 years, have been closely
bound up with the major racial groups of the
population-lndo-Guyanese (52%) and
Afro-Guyanese (38%). From the first elec-
tions held with universal suffrage under Brit-
ish colonial rule Dr. Cheddi Jagan and his
People's Progressive Party (PPP) were victor-
ious until the electoral system was modified
in 1964 to bring in a form of proportional
representation. This 1964 election led to a
coalition government led by Forbes Bum-
ham and his People's National Congress
(PNC) working with a smaller party. Inde-
pendence was conceded in 1966 and Forbes
Burnham has remained head of the Govern-
ment ever since, first as Prime Minister and
lately as Executive President

The Politics of Fraud

I L i
Guyanese Executive President Forbes

Elections were'held in 1968 and 1973.
Forbes Burnham established political dom-
inance in 1968 by transforming the PNC
minority into a majority through widespread
rigging of electoral lists in an exercise which
achieved international notoriety. A special
feature of the rigging was the creation of an
overseas electoral roll, principally in Can-
ada, the United Kingdom and the United
States. A reputable London firm, the Opin-
ion Research Center, estimated in a survey
that at least 72% of the entries on the UK
electoral register were incorrect. In the 1973
elections, the ballot boxes were seized by the
Guyana Defence Force and kept at army
headquarters for 24 hours. It is widely
believed that during this period the boxes
were stuffed with the ballots required to pro-
duce the desired majority. In both these
elections the PNC, with a mainly Afro-Guy-
anese following, and the PPP, with a mainly
Indo-Guyanese following, were the major
contestants and the political polarization was
hence always seen as radal polarization.
In 1978 new elections should have been
held but instead a referendum was held to
allow the postponement of elections till
1980 and to enable a newconstitution to be
drawn up. This referendum was opposed by
the PPP party, all the other opposition par-
ties, the churches and civic organizations,
who called for a boycott. The PNC govern-
ment announced a 71.5% tumout at the

referendum and a 97.7% vote in favor.
Opposition groups, including clergymen
from various denominations, who inde-
pendently monitored the polling stations,
assessed the turnout at just over 14% while
the PPP estimate was as low as 12%. A report
drawn up by the Guyana Citizens' Commit-
tee documented the process in detail and
brought the matter to the attention of the
international community.
1979 and 1980 provided a steady flow of
disturbing news from Guyana. The killing of
Fr. Bernard Darke, photographer for the
local Catholic newspaper, the killing of Wal-
ter Rodney, leader of the newly formed
Working People's Alliance political party, the
Referendum Three trial, continual harass-
ment of political opposition, and of mis-
sionaries in the interior of the country. This
was the national political context in which
the 1980 elections were called and held in

Defects in Electoral Law
In assessing the electoral process and ana-
lyzing the Representation of the People Act
and examining the impartiality of the state
machinery in the conduct of the election, we
find significant defects.
The law does not provide that a represen-
tative of a list of candidates or any political
party contesting the election is entitled to
receive a list of electors. Consequently,
without resort to illegal means(e.g. removal
of the posted list) there is no way an opposi-
tion party can perform the absolutely vital
task of checking the voters list. On the other
hand it may be safely assumed that the
goveming party has full access to such lists.
This defect at a national level is ampli-
fied in respect to the lists for each polling
division. Section 36 of the Representation of
the People Act provides only that those lists
be displayed on the polling places for each
division and nowhere else. Further-
more political parties or the representatives
of candidates are not entitled to receive
These defects have been repeatedly
pointed out to the Elections Commission by
all the opposition parties. The observer
team, having been denied access to the
Minister of Home Affairs and the Chief Eec-

tions Officer, nevertheless asked the Com-
missioner of Elections about the provision
of these lists to the opposition parties. We
were told that there is no legal obligation to
provide them.
Under Section 64 of the Representation
of the People Act the Chief Election Officer
is empowered to appoint the place in each
district where the Returning Officer of such
district shall count the ballots. The Act
makes no provision for the polling agents or
even the candidates to accompany the bal-
lot boxes to the place of counting. These two
defects make it possible for massive tam-
pering to be done with the ballot boxes on
the way to the place of counting, as indeed
has been the complaint of the opposition
parties in respect of past elections.
Section 87 (c) provides for the returning
officer to mix together all the ballots from
the various polling places in a division. This
would permit any fraud or malpractice
which occurred in anyone polling station to
escape detection when the ballots are being
Non-resident ballots are only required to
be posted to the elector by the 14th day
before the elections and must be delivered
to the ballot officer by the fifth day before the
elections. This is clearly impractical.
Using the list of polling places the ob-
servers noted the distribution of them, ease
of access and the display of political posters
on polling stations. In Lodge there was a
high concentration of polling stations in one
block and no stations in nearby streets. One
designated building, bearing the sign 'Nur-
sery School,' displayed a number of PNC
posters. In Plaisance on the East Coast of
Demerara, the polling stations were concen-
trated on two blocks of Prince William Street.
A nearby area of similar population density
had no stations. Better Hope had three sta-
tions all within 100 feet of each other, two in
the Community Center and one in the Vil-
lage Office. Another area of high concentra-
tion was Betweverwagting, with polling sta-
tions in the High School, its farm, the primary
school, community center and private resi-
dences. We saw no posters on the polling
stations and, in contrast to the position in
Better Hope, residents to whom we spoke
had a clear idea of where they were sup-

w. I
Guyanese Opposition Leader Cheddi Jagan.

posed to vote. The next polling station was
several miles away from Betweverwagting,
in Annandale. The concentrations of polling
stations coincided with areas in which the
PNC had traditionally been strong. Our
observations would seem to suggest that
the placement of polling stations is designed
to give maximum facility to supporters of
the ruling party.
On the pretext of avoiding disorder the
authorities require a partyto appear before a
police official to obtain permission to usean
amplification device at a political rally. Per-
mission is often granted only few (often as
few as two) hours before the meeting is to
be held, thus making it impossible to adver-
tize sufficiently. In Georgetown one party,
the Working People's Alliance (WPA) had
not been allowed any meetings in the week
preceding the visit of the observers. The day
after the team saw the Police Commissioner,
permission for two meetings appeared at
the WPA office. It is unfortunate that one of
these meetings had to be called off because
of the presence of persons in vehicles
clearly bent on breaking it up. The role of the
police in all this is unduly restrictive of the
freedom to associate.
At a People's Progressive Party (PPP)
meeting on December 2, 1980, People's
National Congress (PNC) partisans caused
a melee ending in the arrest of twenty-three
PPPyouths some of whose injuries required
medical attention. The police stripped them

of shirts and shoes and beat them. Twelve
were injured and sixwere hospitalized. Police
would not allow any but the police doctor to
examine them. Two days later the twenty-
three were charged with being in possession
of a 'dangerous instrument' and refused
bail. No PNC youth was charged. We have
confirmed the widepsread view in Guyana
that opposition meetings at night encoun-
tered sudden blackouts of electricity. PNC
meetings did not face such blackouts.
The Guyana Government operates under
the principle of party paramountcy. This
enchances and consolidates the power
of PNC officials in the running of the state
and leads us to view with grave concern the
political role of the military and police in
making it relatively more difficult for opposi-
tion groups to associate. It is our conclusion
that the right to meet, to associate publicly,
to share opinions, and to develop political
choices is not effectively demonstrated as
part of the political process in Guyana.

Political Control of the Media
We find that the ruling party had overwhelm-
ing superiority in access to the media.
The radio is an instrument of Government
propaganda and means have been found to
silence and hamper the opposition press.
There is only one daily newspaper, the
state-owned Chronicle, which reads like an
election address for the PNC. In the issue of
Friday December 12,1980, for example, the
front page consisted of (a) A lead article with
President Bumham's picture about the issue
of new leases to farmers, the first of which
was presented by President Burnham per-
sonally; the announcement by the President
of a $106 million program to extend an irri-
gation scheme, and generous increases in
the prices paid to farmers for their rice. Echo-
ing Harold Macmillan in the British General
Election of 1959, the President said that
"Farmers never had it so good"; (b) A pic-
ture of residents at Mibikuri enjoying music
"prior to the main address by President
Forbes Burnham"; (c) An article about $V2
million tax-free payments to corporation
workers in public enterprises. This pay-out
promise-three days before general elec-
tions-may be greeted with some skepti-
cism by members of the Clerical and Com-

mercial Workers' Union, whose General
President, Gordon Todd, had written to the
Chronicle on November 4 about a '$30,000
pay-out' which they had never received. The
Union's letter, needless to say, remained
unpublished; (d) An announcement by the
President that Guyana would be producing
oil in four years.
Two-thirds of the center pages in the
same edition were pure PNC propaganda.
The main article was headed "Democracy at
the Grassroots-That's what the PNC Brings
to the People." Two other pieces dealt with
the PNC's undertaking to complete the road
to Brazil during their next term of office, and
a pledge of support for the PNC by a trade
union. The only reference in the entire edi-
tion to an opposition party was an item

Telegram From Lord Avebury
to President Burnham,
December 4,1980

In response to President Forbes Burn-
ham's assurances, in a radio broadcast,
that international observers will be wel-
come at Guyana's elections to be held on
December 15th 1980. the following inter-
national team has been assembled' Lord
Avebury (Leader of the Delegation) and
Lord Chitnis representing the Bntish Par-
liamentary Human Rights Group; Dr.
Jack Zimmerman. Executive Secretary of
the Lutheran Church of North Amenca,

PNC Statement,
December 13,1980
The Peoples National Congress has evi-
dence that persons accompanying Lord
Avebury on his visit to Guyana have de-
cided in advance to report that the gen-
eral and regional elections in Guyana
are 'rigged'
The party came upon this evidence by
chance when a senior and responsible
official overheard a conversation between
one of Lord Avebury's companions and a
local person. Lord Avebury's companion
admitted that they had formed their opin-
ion about the conduct of the elections
even before these had taken place. He
also admitted that they had arrived at this
conclusion mainly on the basis of dis-
cussions with members of the opposition
Needless to say. the PNC is not sur-
prised that the visitors have come to an a
prior udgement. Indeed, on the basis of
an accepted adage. 'Show me your
company and I will tell you what you are',
it was improbable that the visitors would
approach this matter in any other way.
None of them is known to be friendly to

about the failure by Eusi Kwayana, the WPA
activist, to persuade the Court of Appeal to
declare the President's assumption of office
unlawful. On January 16, 1980, a memoran-
dum was issued by the Editor of the Chroni-
cle to the staff announcing, "Only the Com-
rade Prime Minister, the Deputy Prime Min-
isterandthe Minister of State forInformation
will be responsible for the issuing of political
directions and this will be done to the Gen-
eral Manager and Editor only."
New Nation, the party organ of the PNC,
is a lavish production of 16 pages on high
quality newsprint, carrying not a single
advertisement but nevertheless selling for
only 10 cents (US 4C, or UK 1 pence). Its
reporting of the "Comrade Leader" is ob-
sequious to the point of nausea, and it

Canadian section jointly sponsored by
the Canadian Council of Churches and
by the Inter Church Committee for
Human Rights in Latin America; Mr
Dennis Daly. Chairman, and Ms. Peta-
Ann Baker. Administrator of the Jamai-
can Council for Human Rights, Canon
Seton Goodrch, Anglican Minister in
Barbados and sponsored by the Carib-
bean Conference of Churches: Mr.
Randy MacLaughlin of the Center for
Constitutional Rights, New York and Rev
William Newall, Woodstock Theological
Center, Washington. There will be two
additional observers, one sponsored by
the Canadian Council of Churches and

the PNC or the Government of Guyana
At least one is known to be a critic of the
PNC Government in his own right. Some
are known to be friendly towards op-
position groups and leaders in Guyana.
All. according to Lord Avebury himself,
are here at the invitation of 'some friends'.
There can be no doubt that these
'friends' include the local opposition. In-
deed their 'agents' in Guyana (and the
word 'agent' is most appropriate) are an
opposition group which refers to itself as
the Guyana Human Rights Association.
The three co-presidents of that group
are known for their anti-government posi-
tions. One of them is head of a Trade
Union whose leadership (though not its
members) has been publicly implicated
by Minority Leader Dr Jagan in last
year's political conspiracy to overthrow
the government by the use of political
strikes and other mechanisms. As far as
we know this 'co -president has not
denied Dr. Jagan's assertion
Also, we note with interest Lord Ave-
bury's apology, issued strangely enough
through the media, for his impolite corres-
pondence to the Comrade President and

makes no pretence of being a real news-
paper. There are now only three weeklies,
the Vanguard having been closed down in
August 1979 as a result of the seizure of its
supplies of paper, ink and printing equip-
ment by the police.
The PPP weekly, the Mirror, is of four
foolscap pages on "Bond" paper of inferior
quality. It has a fewadvertisements and sells
for 25 cents. It also is really a political broad-
sheet. The opposition newspapers have
been denied all supplies of newsprint Miss
Jennifer Gill, head of the international affairs
desk in the Ministry of Information, one of
the very few officials in the Government we
had been able to contact personally, told us
"Of couse we are a developing nation and
there are financial constraints on foreign

the other by the Canbbean Conference
of Churches We plan to arnve in Guyana
from the 9th December In accordance
with the president's undertaking that for-
eign observers will be welcome I would
like formally to request the necessary
accreditation and authonzation for our
team so that government officials and
election supervisors in Guyana will
cooperate with us in our task. We have
asked the Guyana Human Rights Asso-
ciation to act as our agents, particularly
in arranging appointments for us. A copy
of this cable has been sent to your high
commissioner in London.
Lord Avebury

Leader of our Party Without necessarily
questioning the sincerity of that apology,
we detect a note of arrogance in Lord
Avebury's presumption that he, a for-
eigner unconnected to the Guyanese
electoral process, could attempt, together
with his companions, to attend, listen to,
and.'or participate in a meeting between
the Elections Commission and the repre-
sentatives of the three parties contesting
our elections.
It is difficult to imagine a group of
Guyanese visitors presuming to attend a
similar meeting in Lord Avebury's own
country. Indeed, people like us are known
to have tremendous difficulty even
getting past the authorities at Heathrow
There can now be no doubt that this
visit by Lord Avebury and his companions
is a political racket involving persons with
certain political fixations. It is also a
useful reminder of the colonial condition
which our people have struggled so hard
to remove from these shores.

Office of the General Secretary
People's National Congress

exchange," but the limited amount of for-
eign exchange is distributed selectively and
clearly according to political considerations.
When asked about the offer of free newsprint
for the Mirror by the Caribbean Publishing
and Broadcasting Association (CPBA) in
the autumn of 1979, Miss Gill denied any
knowledge of it and said she would refer the
matter to the Minister.
The circulation of the Mirror was around
32,000 on Sundays, 23,000 on weekdays.
As a result of the squeezing of the news-
paper jugular, it is down to only 12,000
copies on Sunday only. The crisis really hit
them in August 1979 when the Guyana
National Trading Corporation (GNTC)-
since 1977 the sole suppliers of newsprint-
suddenly cut off supplies. We are informed
that on July 8, 1979, the "Martha Fisher"
landed 673 whole rolls and 168 half-rolls of
newsprint, while on July 25 the "Sun Fran-
cis" brought in another 651 whole rolls and
165 half-rolls. None of this was available to
the Mirror or the Catholic Standard, which
have had no newsprint at all since then.
Shortly after this, the CPBA offered to
donate about five tons of newsprint free of
charge to the Mirror, but the Minister of
Trade, Mr. Tyndall, informed Dr. Jagan that
he was unable to grant a license for the
importation, even though no foreign ex-
change was involved. The Deputy Prime
Minister, Dr. Reig, said on October 6: "So for
the time being, until the situation is improved
there won't be any paper available." Dr. Reig
declared that the Government would not
allow foreign newspapers to present gifts to
the Mirror for this would interfere with some
of the policies of this country-to conserve
and not waste. The Mirror was accused of
wasting newsprint. The GNTC has now
informed the Mirror that the supply of

"bond" paper is "not meant to be used as
newsprint." Opposition papers may there-
fore be forced out of business altogether in
the near future.
The same obstacles have been placed in
the way of the Catholic Standard, the other
remaining weekly. It has been reduced to an
eight-page photostencil, priced at 35 cents.
It contains a number of paid advertisements
and is subsidized, to a smaller extent than
the other papers. Its survival is threatened,
not only by the severing of its essential
materials but also by the harassment and
intimidation of its staff.

The events we witnessed
confirm all the fears of
Guyanese and foreign
observers about the state
of democracy in Guyana.

There are two state-owned radio stations.
Both are mouthpieces of the PNC. During
the election campaign, news broadcasts
have been slanted uniformly in favor of the
Government, and the bulletins are followed
by a calypso sung by one of the Parliamen-
tary candidates for the PNC, a former Parlia-
mentary Secretary, entitled, "I'm backing
Burnham again." The cult of the personality
isjust as heavily emphasized on the radio as
in the state-controlled press. The flavor may
be gathered from a couplet from the post-
news calypso: "This man really intelli-
gent/That'swhy we need him for President."
A daily phone-in program Action Line is
heavily and obviously rigged. Even if oppo-

nents of the PNC amounted to only a small
fraction of the people and if there were no
censorship, the occasional dissenting voice
would be heard. But any breath of criticism
is entirely absent. We have personal expe-
rience of the way the radio output is "edited."
The Guyana Council of Churches told us
that some church broadcasts had been
censored, including in particular the Mass
which was to have been broadcast on the
Sunday following the assassination of Dr.
Walter Rodney. They said that church ser-
vices are broadcast live every Sunday be-
tween 9and 10a.m., including the sermons,
but there was a strong inclination to self-
censorship in the sermons because of the
fear of retaliation, particular in the wake of
recent acts of violence against churchmen,
desecration of the churches, and the obvious
presence of spies with tape recorders at
service. On the other hand, religious leaders
sympathetic to the PNC are allowed uninhib-
ited use of religious broadcasts to propagan-
dize on their behalf.
There are party political broadcasts. (PPB)
in the proportion of PNC: 10, PPP: 4, UF: 1,
based on the strength of the parties in the
old Parliament. But these are irrelevant in
the sense that all other news and feature
programs are thinly disguised party politi-
cals for the PNC, taking up more air time by
far than all the PPB's together. This domina-
tion of the media by the PNC flows from the
party's clear policy of using the media "for
development." The party has argued that
state control of the media is not necessarily
inconsistent with the practice of freedom of
expression. However, an analysis of the
state-owned Chronicle and the radio sta-
tions shows a continuous stream of pro-PNC
propaganda and lies about the opposition
Continued on page 44

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The Church

That Williams Built

Electoral Possibilities in Trinidad and Tobago

By Selwyn Ryan

he death of Dr. Eric Williams, Prime
Minister of Trinidad and Tobago and
Political Leader of the ruling People's
National Movement for the last 25 years has
introduced a new and dramatic dimension
into the political life of the two-island state.
This is particularly so since general elec-
tions are due to be held before the end of
1981. Before Dr. Williams' death on March
29th, there was some speculation as to
whether he would again lead the PNM into
another election as he had pledged to do in
1976 and again on January 25th when the
party celebrated its Silver Jubilee. There
were numerous rumors that Dr. Williams
was distinctly aware of the possibilitythat the
PNM could either be defeated outright at the
polls, or that it could find itself in a situation
where even though it was the largest single
party in the House of Representatives, it did
not command an absolute majority and
could thus be forced into opposition by a
coalition of its rivals. Rather than face either
possibility, Dr. Williams was expected to find
some excuse to pull out of the race at the
last minute. Strategists from one party, the
Organization of National Reconstruction, a
break away group from the PNM, were also
said to be seeking to encourage such an
outcome by leaking the results of "in house"
surveys which they were conducting which
reportedly showed that the PNM was likelyto
be defeated in certain key constituencies,
including Port of Spain South which the
Prime Minister represented.
No one, not even his closest associates,
could ever say for surejust what Dr. Williams
would have done if he did in fact believe that
the odds were against him winning a sixth
term of office. The evidence however indi-
cates that he had every intention of facing
the polls, and was in fact making plans to hit
the campaign trail in the very near future. He
may well have assumed that his "old black
magic" was still powerful enough to pull
back into the fold those who had either left
to join the Organization for National Recon-
struction which was attracting huge crowds,
or those who had planned to vote for it on
election day in the hope of effecting a
change of govemment.
It might he recalled that it was widely
believed that the PNM would have been

defeated in the 1976 election by the com-
bined efforts of Tapia, led by Uoyd Best, the
Democratic Action Congress led by former
Deputy leader of the PNM A.N.R. Robinson
and the United Labour Front, a trade union
based party led by Basdeo Panday. Race
however became an important issue in that
contest, and a great deal of the early support
about which Tapia and the DAC had boasted
literally evaporated on the eve of the elec-
tion. The PNM and the ULF, the parties
which were seen by the electorate as being
the two organizations which best repre-
sented Africans and Indians respectively,
were the beneficiaries of that vanishing sup-
port. A similar outcome was possible in
1981. Yet circumstances were different in
1981. Anxiety for change had grown over
the last five years as more and more per-
sons became progressively convinced that
the Goverment was unable to govem or
manage the society effectively. Inefficiency
in the public sector in general and the public
utilities in particular was endemic, so much
so that the Government felt it necessary to
organize public meetings at which the boards
and managements of the utilities, and not
the ministers, were required to account to
the taxpayer. It was widely regarded as an
attempt to shift the focus of public anger
away from the Govemment onto the utility
bosses. It was a way of saying to the public
that the Government had done its part by
providing all the funding necessary to pro-
vide systems which were adequate to the
demands of the public but that the utilities
had failed to perform as both the Govem-
ment and the public had a right to expect.
What ever the truth of the matter in terms of
who or what was responsible for the ineffi-
ciency in the public utilities-and the rea-
sons are complex-the fact remains that
the public was becoming convinced that
improvements had to be made, and there
was an organization in the wings-the ONR
-which was promising to do just that

Official Corruption
Official corruption had also become more
widespread, and reports of scandal followed
in bewildering succession. Reports of deals
involving the purchase of planes for the
national airline, BWIA, for the awarding of

contracts for the construction of a central-
ized horse racing complex or for the pur-
chasing of boats for the Trinidad to Tobago
service filled newspaper headlines for well
over a year, and the man in the street had
become convinced that persons close to
the Prime Minister were involved and that
they were being protected by him for one
dark reason or another. In a poll conducted
by the author in January-February 1981,
only 6% of those interviewed believed that
the Goverment was telling Parliament and
the public all it knew about a deal which was
negotiated with McDonnel Douglas in 1976
for the purchase of 5 DC 9 planes, a deal in
which it was alleged that certain former very
senior government officials acted improp-
erly and benefitted unduly as a result. Sixty-
nine per cent of the sample was of the view
that there was an attempt on the part of the
Government to "stonewall" on the issue. Of
those who believed that there was indeed a
cover-up, 49% said they believed that the
Prime Minister was covering up for persons
in the party or the cabinet while 39% felt that
he was covering up both for himself and
others. Whatever the truth of the matter in a
legal sense, and no guilt is here presumed,
the fact remains that on this as well as on
other issues, the credibility of the Govern-
ment was in serious question by large
numbers of people many of whom had
come to believe that nothing which the
government said or promised could be
taken at face value.
The fact that Dr. Williams was losing polit-
ical ground was further evidenced by the
fact the 50% of the sample expressed the
viewthat he should resign as Prime Minister
to make room for a successor. In a similar
poll in November 1979, 42% was of that
opinion. In terms of race, 54% of the Indians
felt he should "take a rest" compared to 45%
of the Africans. It does of course not follow
that all those who believed that Dr. Williams
should resign were hostile to him. There
were those who were still supporters, but
who nevertheless felt that he had either out-
lasted his usefulness or deserved a rest.
Some were concerned about the amount of
humiliation to which he was being exposed.
Rather than have the image of their hero
tarished, or have him suffer the ultimate


humiliation of an electorate defeat, they pre-
ferred to see him retire while he was on top.
The findings of the poll provided evi-
dence that the old question of "who we go
put" to replace Dr. Williams had been an-
swered for many who saw Karl Hudson-
Phillips, the ONR leader as a sociologically
acceptable altemative. Thirty-three percent
of those sampled said he was their choice to
be the next Prime Minister. The support of
another 34% were distributed among sev-
eral others while the other 33% said they did
not know whom they preferred. In the 1979
poll, 29% regarded Hudson-Phillips as their
choice in the Prime Ministerial stakes. It is
worth noting that Hudson-Phillips' support
in 1981 came from all racial groups. Thirty-
five percent of the Africans/mixed element
chose him, while 31% of the Indians did so.
One of the more surprising findings of the
poll which gave a clue to the likely outcome
of the forthcoming election was that in
terms of popular support, the ONR was in a
close neck to neck struggle with the PNM.
Twenty-nine percent of the sample said that
they would vote ONR if the elections were
held within the next two months compared
to 28% who said they would vote PNM. While
the differences in support indicated for the
two parties might not be significant, the fact
remains that not since 1958-59 had any
other party come that close to the ruling
party. The PNM was defeated in the Federal
elections of 1958 and the County-Council
elections of 1959.
It is quite possible that support for the
ONR would have grown over the next few
months, particularly as fence sitters joined
the growing bandwaggon. But it is also pos-
sible that the support would have been
reduced once Dr. Williams hit the cam-
paign trail.

Free to Change Allegiances
Dr. Williams' death and the choice of George
Chambers as the new Prime Minister has
now made the situation extremely fluid. The
conventional view is that the departure of Dr.
Williams is almost certain to guarantee the
defeat of the PNM by the ONR which is
widely regarded as being nothing more than
a clone of the PNM. Sociologically, the two
parties represent the same constituency,

though the ONR has attracted added sup-
port from Indians disillusioned with the ULE
The assumption is that the Hudson-Phillips
wing would attract much of the support
which the PNM retained over the years
because of personal loyalties to Dr. Willams.
Persons who could not bring themselves to
"betray" Dr. Williams while he lived would
now feel free to change their allegiance.

Support for this thesis can be found in the
results of the poll. When asked which party
they would vote for if Dr. Williams resigned
from the PNM, only 17% indicated tney
would vote for that party, a drop of 11%.
Thirty-three percent said they would vote for
the ONR, a gain of 4% while 17% said they
would vote for "no party" compared to 14%
who gave this reply on the previous question.
Continued on page 45



Elections and Parties

in the Eastern Caribbean

A Historical Survey

By Patrick Emmanuel

A survey of the political systems of the
Third World shows that the English-
speaking Caribbean remains the only
region where electoral competition between
rival parties remains strong. In most other
parts of the Third World one-party or military
regimes rationalized by a broad spectrum of
ideological positions have become domi-
nant. It is generally assumed that electoral
competition will remain the preferred mode
of power acquisition and transfer. However,
over the last decade or so, political devel-
opments within the region have raised ques-
tions concerning the relevance and resi-
lence of the Westminster-type constitutional
A balanced and informed treatment of
the relevance of electoral competition and
Westminster constitutionalism for the East-
ern Caribbean requires discussion of how
the system has operated from its inception:
an analysis of the results of general elec-
tions, the patterns of party dominance or
alternation, the overall class-ideological
character of political parties and leaders.
The states treated here are the Leeward
Islands of Antigua, Montserrat, and St Kitts-
Nevis; the Windward Islands of Dominica,
Grenada, St. Lucia, and St. Vincent; and
Electoral competition under universal
franchise began in all of the states in 1951
(except for Montserrat and St Kitts in 1952).
Between 1951 and April 1981 there has
been a total of 61 general elections in these
territories: six in Barbados, seven each in
Antigua and St. Kitts, eight each inMontser-
rat, Dominica, Grenada and St. Lucia and
nine in St. Vincent. In looking at the evolu-
tion of party systems and socio-ideological
characteristics in the states over thirty years
of electoral politics, three general phases
may be identified. Obviously, not all the
states exhibited these sequential phases to
the same degree.
The Dominance of Labor
The introduction of adult suffrage in the
Caribbean came in the wake of the outbreak
of mass discontent in the 1930s in several
islands including Antigua, Barbados and St.
Kitts. Out of these "disturbances," came the

"Aviary." Woodcut by Wendy Donawa.

region's first unions to deal with the imme-
diate issue of low wages. But the social crisis
was larger than wage disputes and, as mass
enfranchisement came, union leaders ex-
tended their terms of reference into the elec-
toral arena. These trade union organizations
became the bases of the first mass political
parties. In Antigua it was Vere Bird and the
Antigua Trades and Labor Union; in St. Kitts,
Robert Bradshaw and the Trades and Labor
Union; in Montserrat, William Bramble and
the Trades and Labor Union; in Grenada,
Eric Gairy and the Grenada Manual and
Mental Workers Union; in St Vincent, Ebene-
zer Joshua and the St. Vincent Agricultural
and General Workers Union; in St. Lucia,
George Charles and the St. Lucia Workers
Union; and in Barbados, Grantley Adams et
al and the Barbados Workers Union. Domin-
ica was an exception since though trade
unionism began at the same time, labor did
not become an organized political force
until the formation of the Dominica Labor
Party in the late 50s.
The leadership of the unions formed
Labor Parties after the first general elections,
but, except for Barbados, they continued as
one and the same entity. These labor union-
parties-virtually monopolizing the support
of the newly franchised masses of agro-
proletarians, small farmers and urban ser-
vice workers-became the dominant elec-
toral machines, though for longer periods in
some states than others.

The two most significant cases have been
St. Kitts and Antigua. In the former case, the
Labor Party was unbeaten in all six elections
held from 1952 to 1975. Likewise in Anti-
gua, Labor has won six of the seven elec-
tions held between 1951 and 1980. Again in
the Leewards, the Montserrat Labor Party
defunct since 1970, did win the first five of
the seven general elections it contested
between 1952 and 1970. Outside of the
Leewards, the electoral fortunes of the orig-
inal labor parties have been impressive
though not as spectacularly so as in the
Leewards. In Grenada, Labor won in 1951
and 1954, lost in 1957, won again in 1961,
but lost again in 1962, after which the party
won inthethree subsequentelections (1967,
1972 and 1976). In St. Lucia, Laborwon the
first four elections, after which it was out of
office for fifteen years.
The other three states, Barbados, St. Vin-
cent and Dominica, diverged furthest from
the early indications of long-term domi-
nance of the original labor movements-in
different ways. In Barbados, the story began
with the Workers Union affiliated to the
Labor Party under the leadership of Grantley
Adams. Thus the BLP won in 1951 and
1956 but by the latter year Adams had
ceased to be head of the Union, and subse-
quently that body disaffiliated itself from the
BLP The party lost the next three general
elections, held in 1961, 1966 and 1971.
St. Vincent's earlylabor political body has
had a particularly checkered history. The
1951 election was won by a group of candi-
dates under the name of the Eighth Army of
Liberation and sponsored by the United
Workers, Peasants and Rate-Payers Union.
But the team lacked cohesion and broke up
by the next election held three years later. By
this time, Ebenezer Joshua had formed his
own union as well as a People's Political Party
(PPP). The PPP lost in 1954 (to independent
candidates!), but subsequently won in 1957,
1961 and 1966. In St. Vincent though, party
instability expressed in frequent defections
has tended to be endemic and this has con-
tributed to uncertain fortunes for the PPP
As remarked earlier, Dominica has been
an exceptional case in so far as early political
organization of labor was concerned. The
Dominica Labor Party, first led by a resident

English Fabian, Phyllis Shand Allfrey, was
formed in the late 1950s. Later, after E.O.
LeBlanc took over the leadership, the DLP
won the first four of the five general elections
held in Dominica between 1961 and 1980.
Independent candidates had won in the first
three, held in 1951, 1954 and 1957.
The overall picture that emerges over the
last thirty years is that there has been a
general decline in the electoral strength of
the original union-parties in the Eastem
Caribbean. In the 1950s these groups won
80% of all elections, in the 1960s they won
68%, and by the 1970-80 period the victory
level had declined to 56%.

The Emergence of Alternative
After the first general elections in 1951-52, a
number of factors began to work their way
in the political systems of the Eastern Carib-
bean states which in different ways served
to transform the party political structures
and hence the nature of electoral competi-
tion. First, there was the long-term demise of
the independent candidate. In the early
years, independents fared reasonably well,
especially in Dominica where there were no
parties in the first three elections. Gradually,
however, as the instrument of party became
more of an imperative in an age of self-
government, the number of independent
candidates declined. Today, the election of
an independent in most states is virtually
impossible. Secondly, there was the appear-
ance and disappearance of small quasi-
parties, a phenomenon which itself partly
signalled the last gambits of obstinate indi-
vidualists. More than twenty such groups
appeared in the Eastern Caribbean, usually
putting up two or three nominees in one
election and then dying off with a handful of
votes. Thirdly and more significantly has
been the birth of broader-based parties that
have beenableto successfullychallenge the
early hegemony of labor parties. The most
successful examples of these so far have
been the Democratic Labor Party of Barba-
dos which won three terms of office (1961-
1976), the St. Vincent Labor Party which won
three times, in 1967, 1974 and 1979, and
the United Workers Party of St. Lucia, again a
three-time winner in 1964, 1969 and 1974.

There has been a general
decline in the electoral
strength of the original
union-parties in the East-
ern Caribbean.

The other cases of successful alternatives
have been: in Grenada, the Grenada Na-
tional Partywhich won in 1957 (in coalition),
and in 1962 by itself; in Dominica, the Free-
dom Party now enjoying its first term; the
coalition of the People's Action Movement
and the Nevis Reformation Party which
defeated Labor for the first time in St. Kitts in
1980; the interesting case of Montserrat
where the Progressive Democratic Party
won in 1970 and 1973, only to be defeated
by the newly-founded People's Liberation
Movement in 1978; and lastly the Progres-
sive Labor Movement which won a term
against the Labor Party in Antigua in 1971.
It was in the process of producing these
alternative political parties that the political
systems of these territories came to look
more and more like tropical miniatures of
the imperial Westminster-party model. The
model calls for at least two, and ideally two,
competing structures, which over time can
alternate in office. The historical PNP-JLP
alternation of Jamaica, not the one-party
dominance of, say, the PNC in Guyana is felt
to exhibit the best that this model can offer.
Limits on the emergence of altemative
political leadership in the islands existed not
only because of the small size of their adult
populations, but because of class factors. At
the upper level, the entrance of the masses
meant the electoral demise of the big and
middle bourgeoisie of planters, merchants
and professionals who had held parliamen-
tary sway in the previous period of restricted
franchise. These classes retreated from the
public platforms and immediately began to
cultivate the arts of private political manipu-
lation. At the lower levels too, the skills
required to manage ministerial government
put a premium on education and so the

early grass roots trade unionists began to
give way to politicized members of the small
but expanding black/brown middle strata.
Some of these were literate people of pri-
mary or secondary-level education with
strong political or trade unionist drives. (This
factor applies with varying degrees of rele-
vance, to the formation of such parties as the
DLP in Barbados, the Labor Party in St.
Vincent, the UWPin St. Lucia and the PLMin
Antiqua.) What is also interesting is that in a
few of these cases the altemative parties were
formed out of schisms with the old labor
parties, schisms which saw "Young Turks"
breaking away from the "Old Guard." So
emerged the DLP (Barbados), the UWP (St.
Lucia), the PLM (Antigua) as well as the PDP
in Montserrat.
The ability of the alternatives to generate
mass support and hence win elections has
been related to their ideological or perhaps
more accurately their strata image. In Bar-
bados it appears that the DLP benefited
from their portrayal of the BLP as having
grown reactionary in pursuing the interests
of the black majority in a context of a power-
ful white oligarchy. But this factor would not
have weighed as heavily in other states with
a different economic configuration of racial
categories. The portrayal of the Old Guard
as tired and unimaginative would have been
a key psychological factor in most cases,
with the counterposing of Adams and Bar-
row, Bird and Waller, Charles and Compton,
and Bramble and Bramble.
Another factorwhich would have counted
for much in Antigua was that the Young
Turks there were the best organizers within
the union, notjust the party. The immediate
consequence of the breakaway of George
Walter, Donald Halstead and others from the
ATLU-ALP in 1967 was in fact the formation
of a rival Antigua Workers Union (AWU),
which took over a large portion of the ATLU
membership. It was two years later that the
PLM was launched. Since then, with its
ATLU-ALP versus AWU-PLM lineup, Anti-
gua's politics most closely resembles in
structure and style Jamaica's historic BITU-
JLP versus NWU-PNP system.
In St. Lucia, John Compton's aggressive
defence of the interests of sugar workers in
the crisis period of the late 1950s did much

to enhance his popular stature, later paying
solid electoral dividends with victory for his
UWP in its first outing in 1964.
By and large there were no serious differ-
ences among these parties in so far as ideo-
logical questions relating to class struggle
and control of the economy were con-
cered. By the 1960s a general class con-
sensus had emerged, certainly objectively,
on basic issues of private property and eco-
nomic development
Previously in the thirties and forties the
Old Guard (then the Young Turks) had
exposed radical programs, including the
nationalization of the sugar industry. In the
1940s, however, the imperial power, follow-
ing recommendations made by the Moyne
Commissions in 1939, instituted a policy of
colonial welfarism sweetened with modest
constitutional reforms. Following this, poli-
ticians in the small islands in the 1950s
found their energies consumed with two
issues: regional federation and further con-
stitutional advance, and attempts to follow
the larger islands along the path of the so-
called "Puerto Rican model" of economic
development. The essence of this "model"
was that the investment, managerial skills,
technology etc., which were needed to
diversify and develop the islands' econom-
ics, had to come from abroad. Hence the
governments needed, inter alia, to pass leg-
islation providing fiscal incentives to attract
foreign investors. All the Eastern Caribbean
governments took these steps in the 1950s
and 1960s. And all the political parties
accepted this strategy, indeed competing in
elections on the basis that the one could
attract more investors than the other.
But this is not to deny that there were not
important differences in the class images of
the parties which were electorallyimportant
The alternative parties in Grenada (GNP), St
Vincent (SVLP), Dominica (DFP) and St.
Kitts (PAM) drew their leaderships from
middle strata with whom the black masses
had long felt little social affinity. This factor
certainly accrued in election campaigns,
more likely than not, to the advantage of the
older, more grass-rooted labor parties. Grad-
ually however there has been a tendency for
the differences in class images between par-
ties to narrow. With the spread of education,
all parties can now draw on upwardly mobile
cadres. Black militancy in the 1960s has
altered the calculations on which party can-
didates must be selected.
Economic diversification has also
changed the occupational structure of the
electorate. In the 1950s there was a large
bloc of agro-proletarians susceptible psy-
chologically to the messianic appeals of the
old labor leaders. But the growth of industrial-
urban occupations called fora more literate
proletariat, psychologically more inclined
to "rational politics," tempted somewhat
more towards the better educated leader-
ship of the newer parties. The growth of this

newer electorate could not of course guar-
antee a new majority allied to the new par-
ties. What it meant however was that elec-
toral decisions tended now to be more the
result of reflection than of charismatic adu-
lation. The fact that the older parties have
also been' "modernizing" their leadership
also means that today's electorates have
more to think about in making their voting
decisions. Politicians like Lester Bird of the
Antigua Labor Party or Lee Moore of the St
Kitts Labor Party are cases in point
There are three states in which two pow-

St. Kitts



St. Lucia



St. Vincent


indications of party-system transformation,
within the Westminster constitutional sys-
tem, are most manifest. In Dominica, the
former dominant Labor Party has fractured
following the crisis of 1979. While there still
exists a core of 'Labor' supporters, it is a
moot question whether the Party itself can
be reconstituted as a coherent entity. In St.
Vincent, the retirement of the veteran labor
leader Joshua has also heightened the
uncertainties of systemic evolution in what
is the most fluid system in the region where
political association is concerned. Between

The Eastern Caribbean States: Terms Served by Parties

8th Army

erful political parties currently attract the po-
litical allegiance of the vast majority of the
electorate: Barbados, Antigua and Montser-
rat. Though two-partyism has long been the
pattern in St. Lucia, the current political
schism within the Labor Party puts that
island's politics in a state of flux. The situa-
tion in St. Kitts-Nevis hinges at the moment
on how the issue of Nevisian secessionist
urges is resolved. If Nevis does not secede, it
appears that a locally-based party rather
than one based on St. Kitts will continue to
dominate elections there. So that given the
continued existence of (at least) two major
parties in St. Kitts itself, it seems that a min-
imum of three parties will continue to share
parliamentary representation there.
It is in Dominica and St Vincent that the

6 (1952-1980)
1 (1980-
6 (1951-1971; 1976-
1 (1971-1976)
5 (1952-1970)
2 (1970-1978)
1 (1978- )
5 (1951-1964; 1979-
3 (1964-1979)
3 (1951-1961)
4 (1961-1979)
1 (1980-
6 (1951-1957; 1961-62; 1967-79)
2 (1957-1961; 1962-1967)
1 (1951-1954)
1 (1954-1957)
3 (1957-1967)
3 (1967-1972; 1974-
1 (1972-1974)
3 (1951-1961; 1976-
3 (1961-1976)

the Labor Party at the center and the United
Peoples Movement on the left any number
of parties might play there.

The Entrance of Radical Political
In the mid-1970s after a quarter century of
Westminster electoral competition, the po-
litical systems in the islands witnessed the
entrance of new entities, i.e., socialist-ori-
ented political groups, small in numbers but
engaging in vigorous criticism of the exist-
ing capitalist socio-economic systems as
well as the constitutional frameworks within
which government and politics were being
conducted. At first these groups tended to
disavow electoral participation on a combi-

nation of ideological and tactical grounds.
Later, however, as organization, popular
exposure and confidence grew, these groups
decided on entering the electoral struggle.
The primary such case is Grenada's New
Jewel Movement founded in 1975. Like-
minded groups in other islands are the
Yulimo party in St. Vincent now known as
the United Peoples Movement (UPM), the
Antigua Caribbean Liberation Movement
(ACLM) and the Movement for a New Do-
minica which later came to be known as the
People's Democratic Party (PDP).
Because of the special character of politi-
cal developments under the Gairy regime in
the 1970s in Grenada the NJM had become
the best organized, most battle-tested and
popular of these groups. Grenada had be-
come a neo-fascist state in the 1970s com-
pared with which governments in the other
states displayed a moderate hostility to radi-
cal political agitation. The steadfastness of
the Party in the face of the brutal assaults on
its leadersand supporters widened its appeal
among all strata of the population. Thus
when the NJM participated in the 1976 gen-
eral elections, in alliance with two other
groups, it gained three of the six seats won
against Gairy.
No doubt, however, the NJM's positive
showing must have impressed its sister
organizations in the other states; and not
long after, they decided on contesting elec-
tions in their own countries. However, these
were weaker organizations than the NJM in
terms of the quality of the senior cadres, the
discipline of organization, the objective-sub-
jective situation of functioning in much less
repressive environments than that of Gren-
ada. The weakness of these groups necessi-
tated the formation of alliances, where pos-
sible, with other organizations. In the multi-
party milieu of Dominica and St. Vincent
partners were not hard to find. The fact of
the matter however was that in both cases,
alliances had to be formed not with estab-
lished political parties but with small, rela-
tively new groups which in terms of appeal, if
not organization, were probablyweaker than
the socialist groups. Whereas in Antigua,
with two established parties to confront, the
ACLM was constrained to run alone. In
Grenada, on the other hand, not only was
the NJM manifestly the most formidable
force in the Alliance, but its main partner
was the country's twenty-year old principle
opposition party, the GNR
In the end, the ACLM and the alliances in
Dominica and St. Vincent failed to win seats
in the most recent elections held in these
states. One widespread interpretation of
these outcomes has been that they repre-
sent a rejection of socialist thought by the
working peoples of these countries. An ob-
jective analysis of the situation would give
some weight to this argument. But it would
be a serious oversimplification to contend
that this view says it all. There are other

factors which need to be brought in to any
balanced interpretation, including the in-
fancy of the new groups, their organizational
and financial shortcomings, a certain lackof
political sophistication which is in large part
due to ideological rigidity.

Political Scientist Patrick Emmanuel is a research
fellow at the Institute of Social and Economic
Research at the University of the West Indies,
Barbados. He has authored General Elections
in the Eastern Caribbean: A Handbook, and
Crown Colony Politics in Grenada.

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Changing the Guard

in Dominica

Elections and a Hostage Crisis

By Robert A. Michaels

July's election in the windward eastern
Caribbean Commonwealth of Do-
minica initiated a major change in that
island nation's official ideology. The conser-
vative, pro-capitalist, pro-West Freedom Party
swept 17 of 21 seats of parliament and
elected Eugenia Charles the first female
prime minister of any Caribbean nation. The
election marks a major departure from the
decade of Labor control of Dominican
Contending in Dominica's election were
four political parties and three ideologies, as
well as several "independent" candidates-
some independent in name only. The par-
ties were: Freedom, Dominican Labor,
Democratic Labor ("Dem-Lab"), and Alli-
ance. The Freedom Party captured 51.4% of
the 30,555 votes cast, compared with 16.7%
for Dominican Labor, 19.7% for Dem-Lab,
8.4% for Alliance, and 3.9% for the indepen-
dents (of whom 2 won seats in parliament).

Since Independence
The conditions in Dominica on Independ-
ence Day, like the conditions in other newly
independent colonies, were not conducive
to autonomy. Already Geest Industries had
created a monopoly on the export of bana-
nas and other crops. Much land was pri-
vately owned by families of wealth, including
the Dutch Geest family. Despite its ideology,
the socialist Labor government was unable
to reverse the accumulation of wealth by the
few at the cost of the many, and too manyof
the few were members of government
Ideologically the Labor Party, led by Prime
Minister Patrick John was dedicated to land
reform through dismantling the large es-
tates. However, the landed elite opposed this
effort through the Freedom Party and
through the Chronicle, the only pro-Free-
dom Party newspaper (the last of three)
which survived Labor attempts to muzzle
them all. Although unable to make inroads
into the Labor government until this elec-
tion, the Freedomites stalled land reform,
thwarting the socialist ideology of the party
in power. To this day, poor Dominicans in
coastal towns must travel to the rugged inte-
rior ("the bush") to distant gardens. They
cannot farm on land adjacent to the towns
because wealthy estate owners control this

Dominica Prime Minister Mary Eugenia Charles.
Wide World Photos.

productive, convenient, and scenic land.
Estate owners willing to rent land usually
demand an exhorbitant one third of all pro-
duce, regardless of productivity, rather than
demanding a fixed rent. Many estate owners
refuse to rent land for homes or gardens,
and prohibit grazing of livestock on their
abundant grasses. Livestock, too, must be
transported upwards and inland to distant
fields, along paths which are in constant flux
because legal access routes through estates
are absent
Wherever they live, Dominicans are gen-
erally poor. Although precise statistics are
not available, many Dominicans, probably
about 35% of the potential work force, are
jobless, and more are underemployed or
employed part time. The mean annual wage
of the employed is estimated at US$150.
Hence, Dominica's government also lacks a
tax base, and it is no wonder that many
Dominicans have attempted to leave the
island. This was particularly true after Hurri-
cane David of August 1979, which resulted
in widespread unemployment among pre-
viously employed banana industry workers.
The Alliance Party, headed by Athie Mar-
tin, was regarded by most Dominicans as a
radical, even communist party, a charge
which spokesman for Alliance have denied.
Alliance is a relatively new party which

claims that Dominica's major political fig-
ures are at best ineffective and at worst cor-
rupt. Its image of radicalism arose from its
willingness to accept foreign assistance
from non-Westem nations, specifically from
Cuba. Alliance does not believe Dominica
should be committed to a pro-West stance,
or to economic relationships solely with
Westem or Commonwealth nations. Rather,
it would play off the Eastern and Westem
bloc nations, maintaining neutrality to estab-
lish a pro-Dominican foreign policy. Like the
Dominican Labor Party, Alliance is commit-
ted to land reform.
The Democratic Labor Party is an off-
shoot of its sound-alike Dominican Labor
Party. Dem-Lab was led by Oliver Seraphin,
formerly PatrickJohn's secretary of Ag ricul-
ture. Dem-Lab arose from scandal's involv-
ing the John government, involving, in fact,
both Patrick John and Oliver Seraphin. The
scandals included an alleged plan to sell 45
of Dominica's 300 square miles, held by
small land owners, to a US concern called the
Caribbean Southern Corporation for $100
per year. Shortly thereafter the government
was linked with another scandal, this one an
attemptto siphon South African money into
a Dominican oil refinery so that Dominica
could purchase oil on behalf of South
Africa. The plan was aborted following its
exposure by the British Broadcasting Cor-
poration. Several days later, on May 29,
1979, a general strike for higher wages
resulted in Seraphin's resignation and the
resignations of all of the John cabinet
members; it also caused the downfall of the
John government On June 21 Mr. Seraphin
was chosen by the House of Assembly to
lead an interim government committed to
holding fair elections in six months.

July 1980 Elections
Elections were not held, however, until July,
after nearly a year, and after Dominica was
severely damaged by Hurricane David. Re-
covery from the hurricane was slow, and is
still not complete. The Seraphin govern-
ment, like its predecessor, was involved in
scandal over the alleged misallocation of IS
aid. In particular, the galvanized steel roofing
material intended for free general distribu-
tion was hoarded and dispensed to friends,

or sold. Hence, the election was contested
by four parties, of which two were tainted by
scandal and one by the label of commu-
nism. Only the Freedom Party was, relatively
speaking, untainted.
These scandals and accusations were the
primary issues of the election, and were ele-
vated to highlyemotional displays of temper
and vehement rhetoric. The Freedom Party,
despite its lack of sympathy for the plight of
Dominica's poor, despite resentment of the
landed by the landless, was in a relatively
good position to emerge unscathed by the
charges, particularly since it controlled the
press. The Freedom victory was more com-
plete than the statistics would outwardly
indicate. Among the four seats not won by
Freedom candidates, two were won by
"independent" candidates who were actu-
ally Freedom supporters who altered their
party affiliation for strategic purposes.
According to Bill Reveire, historian, lec-
turer in a New York university, and unsuc-
cessful Alliance Party candidate for a parlia-
mentary seat, two factors contributing to the
Freedom victory were US money and the
US Central Intelligence Agency. The allega-
tion was publicly made by Alliance leader
Athie Martin that the CIA sent two operatives
to Dominica to encourage the Freedom Vic-
tory. According to Reveire, the CIA agents'
recommended strategy was to support the
weak Democratic Labor Party of Oliver
Seraphin to take votes away from the more
powerful Dominican Labor Party of Patrick
John, splitting the Labor vote, and to attach
a "communist" label to the Alliance Party. It
has proven impossible to trace the allega-
tions beyond a published statement by
Athie Martin. Martin apparently did not pro-
vide the names and proof of the affiliations
and whereabouts of the alleged operatives
during their supposed intrusion into Domin-
ica's elections. A priori, it appears likely that
US influence was a factor, but not the major
factor, in the Freedom victory.
The most proximal influence on the elec-
tion result was the campaign itself. The for-
mulation of issues in words was limited to
rhetoric; as most Dominicans are illiterate
and uneducated, the rhetoric was often at a
low level of sophistication, to say the least.
Very little was written. Each party was visu-

ally identifiable by a symbol-the hand for
Freedom, the hat for Dem-Lab, the shoe for
Dominican Labor, the hammer for Alliance,
and the fork and the clock for two of the
independents. It is difficult to say to what
extent the Freedom Party's campaign stra-
tegy accounted for the results. One strategy
employed by all parties was to give things
away, such as T shirts bearing party names.
Inasmuch as the Freedom Party had the
most money, it had an advantage. In one
important constituency, Portsmouth, the
Freedom Party lostto the Dominican Labor
candidate, Michael Douglas. Douglas, who
became the minority leader of parliament
over the objections of greedy Freedomites
who argued that one of the "independents"
should hold the office, is the son of a wealthy
estate owner whose family operates the
Douglas Guest House in Portsmouth. Dou-
glas allegedly carried the strategy of "giving
a step" further than other candidates-
giving out rum at public campaign meet-
ings. One party floated a dirigible along the
coast, towed by boat. However, the dirigible
was towed so far off shore that it was difficult
to tell what party it belonged to. A day after
its maiden flight, the dirigible was allegedly
shot down!
The major factors in the Freedom victory
appear to be threefold: (1) scandals involv-
ing both Labor parties, (2) the Alliance Par-
ty's youth, lack of national leaders, and its
radical image, and (3) control of overwhelm-
ing wealth and of the press by Freedom
Party members, and use of these factors to
wage a potent campaign. It is apparent,
however, that the overwhelming vote for
Freedom candidates was not a vote for their
ideology. It is important to emphasize that
the Freedom victory, no matter how ex-
plained, does not point to a pro-West ideol-
ogy of the Dominican electorate. By no
means was the election contested around
the issues that would have been paramount
to a more educated electorate: (1) the
inadequacy of the education system, (2)
economic dependency, (3) the need to
judiciously develop tourism, (4) diversifica-
tion of income sources, (5) the need to
develop nutrition and public health pro-
grams, (5) land reform, (7) poverty, (8) birth
control and the position of the Church. With

these issues unresolved by the Freedom
victory, the Westem bloc cannot claim vic-
tory, but can claim a new responsibility to
assist Dominica to overcome its problems.

The Hostage Crisis
Since the election, guerrillas in the moun-
tains near Roseau, said to be Rastafarians
('Rastas') or Dreads (wearers of long hair in
dreadlocks, or multiple braids), have become
formidably armed and increasingly bold. A
wave of firebombings of police stations, and
attacks against homes and cars, has plagued
police and government officials. In the vil-
lage of Giraudel, in the hills overlooking
Roseau, armed youths on motorcycles have
been striking fear in residents by threatening
abduction of young women and stealing
vehicles and crops.
On February 12 police confronted guerril-
las in Giraudel. A shootout erupted in which
two youthful guerrillas were killed. Retreat-
ing guerrillas burned the house of the Honey-
churches, Dominica's oldest white family.
They captured Mr. Ted Honeychurch, father
of government spokesman Lennox Honey-
church, as well as his wife Penny and one or
more black housekeepers. The guerrillas,
later releasing all the hostages except Mr.
Honeychurch, demanded in exchange for
his life the freedom of two "political prison-
ers." The prisoners, Augustus Loyd and
Robert Eugene, are condemned to hang for
the March 1980 murder of headmaster Mor-
ris Laurent. As of this writing the hostage
crisis continues. Prime Minister Charles,
refusing to negotiate with guerrillas until Mr.
Honeychurch is released, has declared a
State of Emergency. Parliament has enacted
"temporary" anti-terrorist legislation, per-
mitting searches without warrants and de-
tention without trial.
Although these actions have strengthened
the government in dealing with the guerril-
las, they have undermined its ability to
attract foreign investments, denials by Ms.
Charles notwithstanding. A source of for-
eign revenue is essential both for the devel-
opment of Dominica and the success of the
Freedom Party govemment Equally omi-
nous for the Freedom government was a
news blackout imposed by Ms. Charles,
Continued on page 48

Race and Democracy

in Bermuda

The Fight for the Right

By Frank E. Manning



-"- ^
i'~~O OHB B^B-

-G~--~- I~


PLP leader Lois Browne at a party rally. Photo Frank Manning.

ordering the Caribbean, Bermuda
has again proven itself a remarkable
model of the conservatism that has
recently resurfaced throughout the region.
Facing their most crucial and keenly con-
tested election last December, the Bermu-
dian electorate, two-thirds black, retumed to
power the predominately white United Ber-
muda Party (UBP) that has ruled without
interruption since the advent of party politics
two decades ago and that inherited the
mantle of the archconservative white mer-
chant aristocracy whose reign began with
British colonization in the seventeenth cen-
The verdict was close, however, primarily
because the black Opposition, the Progres-
sive Labour Party (PLP), has also become
conservative and decidedly pro-capitalist.
The UBP won only 22 of the 40 seats in the
House of Assembly, four fewer than in 1976
and eight fewer than in 1968 and 1972. The
future promises intense and intriguing par-
tisan competition, as both sides seek to
demonstrate their unique fitness for running
an affluent free enterprise political econ-

omy. Scenarios range from an early defeat
of Government to negotiations aimed at an
alternative, metropolitian-oriented form of
national independence.

Capitalism with a Social
As in previous elections, the UBPfought the
1980 campaign on its record as a custodian
of the economy. That role is personally
symbolized by Premier David Gibbons, a
white who also holds the Finance portfolio
and whose family controls Bermuda's larg-
est conglomerate. Speaking to a rally in
Sandys Parish, he struck the party's princi-
pal theme: "This election is not about per-
sonalities. It is not about symbols. Not a
matter of images...lt is about the conditions
of people's lives...People's jobs, income,
housing...And, above all, the strength and
stability of our economy, upon which all else
depends. Look to the United Bermuda Par-
ty's management of our economy. At a time
when so many nations in the West are
struggling and losing ground, Bermuda

maintains one of the highest rates of per
capital income in the world. Stability. Secur-
ity. Without an income tax. These are facts.
And they've come to pass because of exper-
ience, and prudent, efficient management"
A graduate of Harvard Business School,
Gibbons campaigned in his usual attire:
dark blue suit, solid or pin-striped, blue or
white shirt, red tie, and white handkerchief in
the breast pocket. His oratorical style, even
the inflection, is Kennedyesque, but without
the wit and grace Rhetorical questions,
clipped assertions, balanced contrasts, and
the rapid-fire recitation of statistics were
used to elevate business to the level of
national purpose. The economic theme was
given a sense of grave urgency in a full page
ad in the Royal Gazette, Bermuda's daily
newspaper, on election day. "Today is the
day when you vote-either to maintain
Bermuda's economic growth and your own
financial security and stability or...take a
chance on the PLP Think carefully and vote
The emphasis on economic issues rather
than "symbols" notwithstanding, the UBP
spent handsomely on projecting itself to
the voters. Reeling from the loss of four
seats in 1976, the party began its campaign
in the summer of 1978, hiring a New York
opinion research firm, Penn and Schoen, to
conduct regular surveys in Bermuda on
issues and political personalities. Early in
1980 the UBP officially retained another
New York firm, David Garth, as public rela-
tions agent. Garth, which ran the campaigns
of Mayor Koch and Governor Carey, pro-
duced all of the party's television commer-
cials in New York, and had as manyas seven
staffers in Bermuda for consultation and
As the UBP is assured of virtually unani-
mous white voting support, the target of this
expensive public relations effort is the black
electorate. To reach them, the UBP has
embellished its managerial role with the
claim that it represents "capitalism with a
social conscience." Two strategies have
been employed to demonstrate the opera-
tions of conscience: integration and patron-
age. Blacks are assiduously courted as
candidates, rewarded with highly visible
positions in Parliament and the party organ-

ization, and appeased in ways that often
outrage white supporters. The cost of black
recruitment, however, has increased tre-
mendously. Club memberships and nomi-
nations to the Queen's Honours list are no
longer sufficient to offset the exclusion from
black society that a black faces on joining
the UBP It now takes company director-
ships, blue ribbon investment opportunities,
and guarantees of political influence. More-
over, even those incentives are becoming
less compelling to the black professional
elite as they view the PLP's growing political
strength and ideological moderation. Con-
sequently, the UBP has had to recruit in
other strata of black society. Many of the
party's prominent new black members in
1980 were sports figures, some of them
barely coherent on a public stage. The UBP
also gained recruits among small, strug-
gling black businessmen, chieflythose highly
dependent on white credit and goodwill.
The declining social prestige of its black
candidates-a major liability in a society
where Lloyd Best's sense of "doctor poli-
tics" still prevails-has forced the UBP to
compensate by heavily increasing its spend-
ing on social services. The UBP now sounds
little different from the PLPin its positions on
housing, education, health care, commun-
ity programs, pensions, and public works. Its
pitch to the voters is that it has delivered in
these areas, not merely promised. The 1980
campaign was timed to follow the opening
of the new hotel training school, the comple-
tion of initial but important phases of an
ambitious housing program, and the devel-
opment of a costly community education
program in one of the politically marginal
parishes. During the campaign there were
more dramatic expressions of patronage,
some of them reminiscent of the old aristoc-
racy's style of paternalism.
The PLP repeatedly accused the UBP of
trying to buy the election, and in a contro-
versial press conference suggested that
former Premier Sir John Sharpe was guilty
of bribery. The issue was a letter from
Sharpe to a constituent, offering advice and
assistance in getting a home mortgage and
concluding with a statement saying he
hoped the constituent would be able to
support his re-election. But to many ob-

P U-"itU hlPMr Ar.rr.. '* k'
Bermuda's Premier David G'~,ti- :d .,r -irg the UBP's final rally. With him are party leaders
Clarence James, Stanley Ratteray and Jim Woolridge. Photo Frank Manning.

servers, including those in the PLP campthe
charge was seen as counterproductive. In a
society where patronage politics has been
the established norm, there was more con-
cern with the massive extent of the largesse
than with a petty case such as Sharpe's. As
one cynical black commented after the elec-
tion, "Well, they've bought us again, but it
cost them plenty this time. We're expensive
niggers now."
Capitalism with a Black Face
If the UPB professes "capitalism with a
social conscience," the PLP has come to
represent what can be termed "capitalism
with a black face." Led by Lois Browne-
Evans, Bermuda's first woman lawyer and a
professed socialist in the 1960s, the PLP
abandoned its posture of socialism and
racial militancy in 1976. Courting the sizable
black middle class, the party substantially
moderated its political and economic plat-
form and proposed that the stability of the
family was the central issue of the cam-
paign. Rallies were replete with prayer, gos-
pel singing, monetary offerings, visiting

preachers and church choirs, parodied tes-
timonies and conversions, and other sym-
bols borrowed from Protestant revivalism,
the dominant religious orientation of black
Bermudians. The election produced a gain
of four seats and an increase of six percen-
tage points in the popular vote, and a byelec-
tion a few months later secured an addi-
tional seat. To party strategists, the lesson
was that the racial appeal was better made
through cultural symbolism than polemics
or confrontation, and that the sentiments of
the electorate were essentially conservative.
The 1980 campaign was a secularized
and slicker version of 1976. The slogan was
"Xpress Yourself," a black Bermudian col-
loquialism borrowed jointly from American
soul music and Jamaican reggae lyrics, and
combining an allusion to the marking of a
ballot paper with a slang encouragement for
self-assertion. The slogan bracketed cam-
paign advertising, gave unity to bumper
stickers, banners, and inscribed sweat shirts,
and fumished a distinctive gesture, hands
held high with indexed fingers crossed, that
PLP supporters gleefully flashed to each



other on the streets. One television com-
mercial showed a group of blacks dancing,
funky style, while a singer chanted "express
yourself" and an announcer extolled the
merits of the PLP
Like the UBP, the PLP put a great deal of
emphasis on public relations, but relied on
local expertise. The image-making team of
Alex Scott and David Allen, active since the
1976 campaign, are now part of the party's
inner circle. They used the "Xpress Yourself'
slogan to appeal to racial identity and soli-
darity, but also sought to project a black ver-
sion of what Peter Wilson calls "respectabil-
ity," the staid, status-conscious, moralistic
value system of the Caribbean middle class.
"We realized," a party insider commented,
"that if you're going to take over from the
master, you've got to look like him."
Candidates were drawn primarily from
the managerial and professional strata,
dressed in three piece suits, and typically
described in public relations releases as
"self-made persons," products of "grass
roots" origins who were "pulling themselves
up the ladder of success." In TV commer-
cials it was stated, "They [the candidates]
understand the struggles of the average
person, because they've been there them-
Unlike in earlier campaigns, PLP rallies
were choreographed as media events rather
than occasions for flamboyant performance.
Proceedings were begun on time, conducted
with decorum, and concluded early. Candi-
dates were required to submit prepared
texts to the party public relations group,
which censored controversial remarks. The
result was a tendency to dwell on relatively
trivial issues, often of parish rather than
national interest. The pro-UBP press had
nothing substantial to report, but the TV
cameras were able to get news shots which
projected the candidates as serious people
concerned with practical needs.
A great deal of the PLPs image thrust was
aimed at showing prominent party figures in
positions of power and responsibility, the
suggestion being that their election would
simply carry on what already exists. PLP
candidates were filmed and photographed
with UBP leaders, top civil servants, and
local and visiting dignitaries. The most fre-
quentlyshown television commercial showed
Lois Browne-Evans seated next to the com-
manding officer of the Bermuda Regiment
as he takes a military salute from a troop
leader. From the camera's angle, it looks as
though the salute is given to Browne-Evans,
whose pose is strikingly similar to that of
Queen Elizabeth.
The PLP's appeal to bourgeois respecta-
bility and conservatism was enhanced with
an accession to capitalist interests. Unveil-
ing its platform several weeks before the
election, the PLP withdrew its longstanding
support for income tax over the present sys-
tem of indirect taxation, mostly customs

duties. It also pledged to respect tax conces-
sions granted of offshore companies, prom-
ised to support the further development of
international business, and, in the tourist
industry, committed itself "to build on what
has already been developed," emphasizing
investment opportunities for Bermudians in
foreign-owned hotels and other sectors of
the industry.
One of the more effective speeches in the
campaign was made by Calvin Smith, a new
and successful candidate whose decision to
run required him to resign the $35,000 a
year Chief Statistician's post. In his prepared

"If you're going to take
over from the master,
you've got to look like

text he raised the question of why he left the
job for politics, answering it on religious
terms; he had recently had a bad automo-
bile accident, and decided he ought to do
God's will before it was too late. In delivery,
however, he glossed over the religious ex-
planation, and instead used an economic
rationale: "This is a free enterprise society,
and you pay for something what it's worth.
Obviously, it's worth more to me than
$35,000 a year to be a candidate for the
Progressive Labour Party."
In late summer PLPteam visited Nassau
to observe the machinery of Lynden Pind-
ling's ruling party and, more importantly, its
role in dealing with a tourist and tax haven
economy similar to Bermuda's. A Bahami-
an economist who had earlier been a consti-
tutional advisor to the PLR came to Ber-
muda again for the campaign and was
actively involved with the PLP's key decision
makers. He stressed the Bahamian model
of being a liberal rather than a labor party,
committed to the principles of capitalism in
much the same manner as the Democrats
in the United States.
The black voter, then, was offered a choice
between two versions of capitalist society in
the 1980 election. The UBP presented itself
as responsible corporate management,
capable of ensuring a profit and willing to
dole it out through personal patronage and
social welfare. The PLP presented itself as
the embodiment of a success ethic, inviting
people to identify with it socially and to
associate their aspirations for upward mobil-
ity with the party's rise to respectability,
prominence, and power. Which of these
visions will prevail? There is no firm answer,
of course, but the 1980 voting patterns, and
the cultural context in which they are situ-
ated, provide clues about how both parties

are likely to deploy their resources and
strategies in the coming year.
The Culture of Voting
The PLP's seat gains are clearly attributable
to sound organization and appealing candi-
dates. For the first time the party functioned
as a well-tuned machine, particularly in polit-
ically marginal constituencies. Canvasing
was extensive, both by candidates and dis-
trict workers, and the party was carefully
prepared on polling day for getting out the
vote. The new candidates who won were
upwardly mobile black professionals, many
from strong religious backgrounds. All were
tied to their districts through birth and family
In the popular vote, however, the PLP
failed to improve its standing. In 1976 the
PLP ran 35 candidates and gained 44.4 per-
cent of the popular vote. In 1980 it ran a full
slate of 40 candidates, but moved ahead to
only 46 percent The additional candidates
alone account for this miniscule gain. When
one considers other factors-the cohort,
four-fifths black, who have reached voting
age since the last election, and 1979 elec-
toral reforms which not only restricted the
franchise of expatriates, who are heavily
white, but which also made voter registra-
tion compulsory, increasing the electoral
roll by 16 percent-the PLPs popular vote
standing appears a critical setback The fact
is that the PLP gained less than half of the
popular vote among an electorate which is
now, minimally, two-thirds black
These contradictory patterns suggest that
the PLP's emphasis on middle-class respec-
tability had an appeal, but that there were
also opposing influences. One of these is
the tendency for blacks to view politics as a
form of sporting competition in which the
PLP is their "team." They cheer for the team
and identify with it, but fear that their eco-
nomic interests would be damaged if it won.
In previous elections such supporters could
vote for the PLP without risking a change of
Govemment. In 1980, however, the close-
ness of the parties eliminated that safety
catch. During the campaign I talked with a
middle age black man whom I have known
for more than ten years, and who had always
spoken favorably and enthusiastically of the
PLP On this occasion, however, he talked
about Bermuda's enviable standard of living
and its likely effect on the election. "You'd be
surprised,"he said, "how many blacks sup-
port the PLP in every possible way except in
the voting booth."
It also seems likelythe PLP suffered rever-
sals among blacks under 30, a generation
whom they have long counted as certain
supporters. In part, the disaffection comes
from both intellectual idealists and the grow-
ing numbers who have gravitated into street
gangs, and is an estrangement from the
party's increasing ideological conservatism
and status consciousness. In written testi-


mony submitted to the commission investi-
gating the 1977 race riot, one PLP member
observed that young black militants now
view the party as "black bourgeois bas-
tards." From another angle, many younger
blacks simply take a more cynical view of
politics than those who went through the
painful struggles of the 1960s. They realize
that a white government desperate for black
support is, after all, in a very exploitable posi-
tion. As a strong Opposition, the PLP is an
effective pressure group for black concerns.
As a ruling party, however, itwould be faced
with broader demands and responsibilities,
limiting its role as an advocate of black
Not surprisingly, there is an awakening
realization in the PLP that the party has
probably reached a saturation point in its
black support, and that further gains can
come only through an erosion of the UBP's
monolithic white voting bloc. Given the
PLP's current pragmatism and capitalistic
orientation, an appeal to whites is likely to
advance the premise that Bermuda can no
longer afford the UBPs costly social pro-
grams, and that a PLP government, more in
touch with the people, could achieve better
results with less cost and bureaucracy. As
one new PLP Member of Parliament told
white voters, "Let David Gibbons run his
business. That's what he's good at. But let
us run the people. That's the best deal you
can get." Similarly, the white business estab-
lishment, the principal financiers of the
UBP's campaign, will be reminded of the
higher costs and diminishing returns of
keeping their party in office. Ironically, it may
be through gaining white support-or, more
modestly, neutralizing whites-that the PLP
will enhance its black support, simply be-
cause there are blacks who still look to
whites for political direction.
But the UBP also has potential trumps. At
the 1979 Constitutional Conference, an out-
growth of conciliation efforts following the
riot, the parties proposed clashing electoral
reforms. The PLP wanted single-seat constit-
uencies, a change that would eliminate split-
ticket voting, believed common among
blacks, and that would frustrate the UBPs
successful strategy of running racially mixed
tickets to demonstrate its commitment to
integration. The UBP wanted a form of pro-
portional representation. The only agree-
ment was that the winner of the 1980 elec-
tion would be free to institute the system of
its choice, provided that its parliamentary
majority was backed by a majority of the
popular vote. The UBP is therefore at liberty
to introduce proportional representation, a
system that has often favored racial minori-
ties and that could protect the UBP's parlia-
mentary majority from the vagaries of small
constituencies where a handful of votes are
often decisive. In this election, for example
the UBP lost a powerful cabinet minister,
Quinton Edness, by a mere seven votes.

Independence and the Canadian
A decade ago, the PLP stridently champi-
oned national independence, while the UBP
stalwartly resisted it. Recently both parties
have substantially modified their positions,
both for strategic reasons and because they
realize that current British policy makes
independence virtually certain within the
next several years. Bermuda's new Gover-
nor, in office since January, is Sir Richard
Posnett, a diplomat experienced in moving
colonies through the final stages of prepara-

They realize that a white
government desperate for
black support is, after all,
in a very exploitable

tion for national independence. A new flag is
a powerful symbol, and the party that raises
it often gains an extended lease on office.
This might also be true for the UBP as the
party would be co-opting an issue that has
strong support among the black middle
class, the lynchpin of the PLP's constit-
uency. The question for the UBP is whether
it could afford to alienate either the whites,
who are clearly against independence, or its
rank and file black supporters, who have
shown little enthusiasm for breaking the
colonial ties.
In view of the seeming inevitability of
independence, however, a more significant
issue is the terms on which it will be sought.
Since the mid-1970s, a number of pro-
independence voices in the UBP hierarchy
have advocated an eventual relationship,
diplomatic and perhaps political or quasi-
political, with either the United States or
Canada. Generally, however, they favor
Canada, both because it is within the Com-
monwealth and because the United States
is the principal source of tourism and inter-
national finance, which they wish to keep
separate from governmental bureaucracy.
Under the envisaged arrangement, Canada
would be asked to provide diplomatic repre-
sentation, university education, technical
aid, and other services in return for cash
payment or other consideration.
Caribbean-Canadian political integration
is not a new subject. As far back as the
1880s there were proposals from Barbados,
Jamaica and the Leeward Islands to join the
Canadian Confederation, and as recently as
the mid-1 970s the Turks and Caicos Islands,
supported by a Canadian Member of Parlia-
ment, bid to become Canada's 11th prov-
ince. Bermuda's interest, if nothing else, is

more realistic. Lying midway between Anti-
gua and Nova Scotia, Bermuda has had
strong commercial relations with Canada
for three hundred years. Most of Bermuda's
larger churches, black and white, have his-
torical or institutional ties to denominations
in Canada. In recent years Canadian models
of education, community development, and
heritage preservation have been utilized in
Bermuda, often with the help of Canadian
expertise. Canada is now the favored coun-
try of Bermudian university students, to the
extent that there are formal arrangements
between Bermuda's Ministry of Education
and a number of Canadian universities from
the Maritimes to Ontario. In Bermuda's new
Parliament there are more persons with
post-secondary education in Canada than
any other country. There is even in the Ber-
muda Parliament a native-born Canadian,
the second Canadian to hold that distinction.
For the UBP independence with a Cana-
dian connection would probably be an
appealing compromise. It would appease
whites, whose strong reaction against inde-
pendence is tied in part to their fear that it
would be a channel of West Indian influ-
ences. And it would be palatable to blacks,
who are impressed by Canada's standard of
living and by its generally good reputation in
race relations. There are, then, several pos-
sible scenarios for the 1980s. Either party
can seize the leading role and dominate the
stage. There is only one certainty in the
script-that an essentially conservative, pro-
capitalist stance will prevail. In this regard
Bermuda will resonate both with its own
traditions and with political currents that are
now visible throughout the Caribbean.

Frank E. Manning teaches Anthropology at The
University of Western Ontaria in London, Can-
ada. He is the author of Bermudian Politics in

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in Uniform

Suriname's Bedeviled Revolution

By Gary Brana-Shute

Democracy is not alive and well in Sur-
iname; nor, for that matter, is gross
authoritarianism. The current atmos-
phere in Paramaribo is one of confusion,
tension, uncertainty, and insecurity. On Feb-
ruary 25, 1980, an extraordinary event, alien
to Surinamese experience, occurred in the
former Dutch colony. The constitutionally
established government toppled in an unex-
pected and almost blood-free coup d' etat
carried out by sixteen army non-commis-
sioned officers. Shortly thereafter they or-
ganized themselves into the ruling National
Military Council. The composition of this
Council as well as the extent of its formal
and informal powers have been in a state of
flux. Fourteen months have since gone by
and well defined programs for serious and
sustained social change supported by a
coherent ideology are barely embryonic.
Except for the most basic details and the
sparest chronological markers there is no
public consensus on exactly what happened,
why it happened, who is responsible, and
where the events are leading the recently
independent country.

What Happened in Suriname?
Suriname's many ethnic groups have been
both a source of pride and consternation for
the former colony. Tourist brochures herald
the cuisine, dress, religion, arts, and folk
culture of the richly textured East Indian,
Afro-Surinamese ("Creole"), Indonesian,
Maroon ("Bush Negro"), Chinese, American
Indian, European, and Lebanese/Syrian
mosaic. Still separated by cultural, edu-
cational, occupational, and residential dif-
ferences, the groups provided Suriname
with a ready social formula for recruiting
institutional appointments and distributing
both patronage and services. Pre-coup poli-
tics in Suriname, through the skillful mani-
pulation of politicians, became ethnic with
parliamentary democracy perceived of as
an arena for the promotion of ethnic group
interests. Alliances and counter alliances,
sometimes tacit, sometimes explicit, almost
always tactical and short term, became the
style and content of the "old politics."
Actually, no one group ever held complete
power in Suriname. Power was always
shared-albeit unwillingly-a fact of life that

the post-coup military regime will find tena-
cious and difficult to dismantle.
The stage for the events of 1980 was set
in 1973 when Henk Arron, heir to the largest
Creole party, the formidable NPS (Nationale
Partij Suriname) effected a coalition that
galvanized an uneasy alliance with a smaller
Creole party(PSV), the traditional vanguard
of the Creole left (PNR), and the largest
Indonesian party (KTPI). For seven years
through independence in 1975 and reelec-
tion in 1978, it worked well enough to keep
the huge East Indian and several small left
wing parties at bay.
The immediate problem, however, which
lead to the coup was with the young, non-
commissioned officers of the military. Gov-
ernment, as well as the military officer corps,
was resistent to the NCOs repeated requests,
and later demands, for pay increases, in-
creased promotion opportunities and, above
all, government recognition of a military
union. At the time, the constitution per-
mitted unions or, more specifically, did not
prohibit militaryunions. The Surinamese officer
corps, supported by the government, con-
temptuously dismissed the request. The
reasoning for this decision went deeper than
just military policy; the soldiers-NCOs and
conscripts alike-were treated as little more
than a bunch of lame brain boy scouts.
The military in Suriname has neither a
long nor particularly distinguished history.
Prior to independence, a part Dutch, part
Surinamese army was administered by
Dutch officers as part of the Netherlands
Overseas Army. Soldiers in uniform were
rarely seen on the streets and, in fact, were
not even called out to help the police during
the tumultuous anti-government strikes of
1973. The army was organized primarily for
frontier defense while the police were legally
responsible for internal security. There was
no formal linkage between the pre-indepen-
dence army and government. The post-
independence army fared little better and,
although it was heavily armed, it too re-
mained outside of the decision making
system. Unlike Latin American armies they
did not have a clearly defined role, tradition,
structure, or ideology.
The year long dispute reached a head in
February 1980. Extraordinarily mishandled

by Prime Minister Arron, the situation es-
calated to the point where one third of the
army (250 men) occupied a government
building and an adjoining park to protest the
arrest of three of their NCO leaders. Charged
with mutiny, their trial was set for February
26, 1980. The police, Arron's main weapon
against the military, armed with carbines
and riot shields, cordoned off the court-
house. Meanwhile, a sixteen man com-
mando unit was formed under the lead-
ership of Sergeants Desi Bouterse (34) and
Roy Horb (27). Reportedly, their goal was
only to free their three compatriots incar-
cerated at the police station. What hap-
pened next is best summed up by one of the
commandos: "We only wanted a union but
ended up with country."
The well planned and coordinated attacks
made on the army barracks and arsenal in
Paramaribo with a simultaneous shelling by
patrol boat of the riverside police station,
raised some doubts as to whether the
country was captured by accident Three
hundred soldiers fanned out over Para-
maribo, disarmed police, and secured stra-
tegic positions. The old government col-
lapsed. The sergeants faced their first prob-
lem. They did not have a central public issue
other than their own grievences around
which to build a widely acceptable rationale
for their behavior. The country did not
perceive itself in severe crisis nor on the
brink of revolution. An appropriate ideology
would be difficult to construct. For a month
following the coup the situation in Para-
maribo was in chaos.

Who's in Charge?
Rumors and conflicting interpretations flew.
Some alleged it was a coup from the "right"
spearheaded by the leader of the large East
Indian party. Others claimed high persons in
the left wing PNR were behind it as the
former leader of that partywas legal council
for the three jailed soldiers and whose
followers endorsed the requests of the
NCOs. However, the general chaos of the
following month, the lack of post-coup co-
ordination, and the fact that virtually every-
body was keeping quiet and not making a
commitment argued that what had occurred
was a surprise.

The victorious soldiers claimed that gov-
ernment would soon be returned to civilian
hands. The Prime Minister, members of
cabinet, and high military officers fled to the
interior or left the country. After their simple
act of violence the young soldiers found
themselves without program, ideology, or
organization save an equally young army
armed with automatic weapons patrolling
the streets of Paramaribo. The President of
the Republic (and former colonial governor),
Dr. J. Ferrier was retained in office. Parlia-
ment, though stripped of power, was not
suspended. The scheduled elections were
cancelled and political parties prohibited.
"Social justice" for the masses was prom-
ised while the military secured its position
through the arrest and detention of former
government officials.
Hampered by their political inexperience
the members of the Military Council turned
quickly to whom they perceived to be the
only friends they had. These tended to be
representatives of left wing parties who had
backed them in their struggle against Arron.
Foremost among this group was one of
Suriname's most savvy politicians; Eddie
Bruma, lawyer, nationalist, and former lead-
er of the leftist PNR. He was assigned the
task of assembling a group of civilians from
which the military could select and appoint a
cabinet of ministers.
With the approval of the military, Dr. Henk
Chin A Sen, a respected physician, col-
league of Bruma's during their student days
in Holland, and sympathizer of the PNR, was
appointed Minister-President (Dr. Ferrier re-
mained as President, a different post). He
had no political experience. His cabinet was
composed of carefully selected technocrats,
many of whom had spent years studying
and working in the Netherlands. Soldiers
and civilians alike had seen the metropole.
An old timer claimed: "The more I think
about this, the more I feel it is a revolution of
return migrants."
The cabinet's composition reflected un-
heard of ethnic balance-Creole, East In-
dian, Indonesian, Chinese, white Surinamer
-a spectrum carefully scrutinized by vir-
tually all Surinamers. The elusive Suri-
namese dream and anathema to the old
politics, government with all groups parti-

Illustration by Juan C. Urquiola

cipating, seemed within reach.
Since the constitution had not yet been
abolished the victorious soldiers faced a
dilemma; they were, in effect, guilty of
treason. This was resolved in a special
meeting of parliament, during which the
new rulers of the country were granted a
general amnesty. On March 15, 1980, the
newly formulated civilian government was
installed. Itwas to serve in the shadow and at
the pleasure of the military.
However, a consensus was not yet for-
mulated. The military leadership and their
civilian counterparts knew only that "things"
had to change, but not how, or how much. A
minority in the National Military Council
argued for radical change. They perceived
the constitution and the continued presence
of President Ferrier as a brake on what was
now being called the revolution and, at
worst, a vehicle for the retum of the old party
The military did not isolate itself from the
watchful, cautious citizenry. For days after
the coup long lines of aspiring advisors
queued up outside the heavily fortified bar-
racks. For the less aggressive, the soldiers
hung an "idea box" outside the camp gates.
In addition to seeking public endorsement
the military picked up information on
charges of sexual infidelity, malicious gossip,
sorcery, and personal misfortune. Suriname
again demonstrated its uniqueness; a mili-
tary junta with a suggestion box. But, this
gesture should not be misunderstood. First,
it was a naive attempt by a frightened and
inexperienced group to maintain and pro-
mote "good will" with the citizenry. There
was, at this stage, a genuine desire to be
liked and respected by the public. Also, they
wanted, in their simple way, to communicate
with the public outside of the old traditional
structures of ethnic political party organs.
Neither wish would come true. The military
had created a wild west atmosphere in
Suriname where normal rules did not apply
to those in army uniform. Earlier cases were
ludicrous; soldiers in jeeps not obeying
traffic policemen or speeding the wrong way
up a one way street. A dignified old man told
me: "Ach, they are young boys playing big
men-but they have the uzi's."
Though the coup was promoted as a
revolution it would be months before the
concept was defined. The first of Para-
maribo's many "public" secrets emerged:
the loose coalition of military and civilian
"centrists" faced the task of keeping the far
left and the ultra-right at bay-even though
the support of both these groups cut across
military and civilian arms of government A
progressive middle had to be secured;
defined not so much in its own ideological
terms as in opposition to "extremist" views.
Thus a balancing act began; concessions to
the left, favors to the right, while keeping the
center, itself in a state of flux, moving
forward -or, at least functioning. The young


soldiers were involved in the politics of being
above politics. The delicate art of court
dancing had begun.

May Days and Counter-Coup One
On May 1, 1980, Minister-President Chin A
Sen publicly announced his "Government's
Declaration" which proclaimed the "first"
Republic of Suriname dead and the birth of
the "new" Republic. His detailed program,
which did not once mention the word
"socialism" emphasized "social justice" and
fairness: increased educational opportuni-
ties, expanded medical care and facilities,

"We onlywanted a union but
ended up with a country."

rights for married women, increased oppor-
tunities for the poor, government health
insurance, old age pensions, a workable
irrigation and drainage system, a coherent
national development scheme, a non-
aligned foreign policy, elections in 1982,
and the weeding out of those old bogey
men, corruption and malaise. Dr. Chin A
Sen proscribed a mild treatment, which for
the "moderates" is still being used as the
prototype for change. With typical Suri-
namese pride and pragmatism the Minister-
President seemed to be telling the public
"fair is fair and in your heart you know its
right." Many, however, accused Chin A Sen
and his allies of delivering too little, too late.
Nor was the military dragging its feet.
Early after the coup they set out to "clean
up" the bureaucracy. The soldiers ordered
that each civil servant would be at his desk
promptly at the beginning of each day, not
disappear over break, and stay on through
the entire work day. Common criminals
were brought to the army base and sum-
marily flogged; the streets were cleaned
daily; garbage was picked up three times a
week; buildings were repainted; and motor-
cyclists were instructed to wear helmets.
The working class rulers wanted to see
things organized neatly and done with dis-
ciplined, mechanical efficiency. Tropical cal-
vinists, they made the old colonial system
run efficiently However, robust talk about
the "new moral order" took place in a
structural and ideological vacuum. Uncon-
vinced, the bulk of the citizenry at best gave
the military the "benefit of the doubt." The
old Surinamese cynicism was reemerging
and would be reinforced by the mysterious
and, as yet, unclear events of May.
In early May an alleged counter-coup (the
so called "right wing Ormskirk coup")
brought the first serious tremors of fear to
the country. Rumors flew through Suri-
name's "mouth newspaper" that an armed

invasion force of 200-300 Surinamese,
Dutch, European, and Moluccan mercen-
aries had landed in neighboring French
Guiana from Europe. Other than military
press releases there is no concrete evidence
to indicate that any such landing or planned
invasion ever occurred. Only Ormskirk and
another person in his company were "cap-
tured" in Suriname. Letters in their posses-
sion, and addressed to several Surinamers,
incriminated them and their "intentions."
Copies of the letters were never made
public. Ormskirk was beaten to death and
those persons to whom the letters were
addressed were jailed, seriously mistreated,
tortured, and suffered permanent physical
damage at the hands of the leading figures
in the military. By June, those in detention
were turned over to the civilian authorities
and provisionally released. A former officer
in the Surinamese army who had refused to
join with the original commandos, and now
resident in Holland. was accused of collab-
oration and sentenced in absentia.
The alleged May counter-coup threw in-
ternal military cleavages into sharp relief.
Ideological and personal factions appeared.
Sergeants Sital and Mijnals, participants in
the original commando group, ranking
member of the National Military Council,
and sympathizers of the leftwing Volk Partij
(People's Party) were known to be dissatis-
fied with the pace of the "revolution." They
had a following in the army and allies in and
out of civilian government. Any furtherance
of their ambitions would be at the expense
of former Sergeant Bouterse, Commander-
in-Chief of the Army and self-promoted to
the rank of Major.
Sital and Mijnals were known to be im-
pressed with the Cuban and Grenadian
revolutions and decried the events in Suri-
name as "conservative." Suriname sent a
delegation to Nicaragua in July 1980 to
attend the celebrations for the anniversary
of that country's revolution. Sital was there
and in a meeting with Fidel Castro was
reportedly encouraged to promote the re-
volutionary struggle. Conflict with Minister-
President Chin A Sen and denunciations of
Major Bouterse followed as Sital, Mijnals
and their civilian allies (members of a radical
spin off of the Volks Partij calling itself the
Revolutionaire Volks Partij) called for Cuban
advisors, nationalization of major industries
and a "real" revolution in Suriname.

Trouble on the Left: The August
Early in August 1980 a group of seven ci-
vilians and soldiers allied with. Sital and
Mijnals gathered at a hotel outside Para-
maribo. They claimed they met only to
discuss and evaluate events since February
25. One week after their meeting they were
arrested, jailed without trial and charged
with formulating a "left wing" coup.

Major Bouterse then cleaned house and
made himself unquestionably the most
powerful man in Suiname. Issuing the first
of what were to become a number of
decrees (Algemeen Decreet A), signed only
by himself, he declared a renewed state of
national emergency, abolished the consti-
tution, sacked President Ferrier, promoted
Minister-President Chin A Sen to President
and Chief Executive, and installed the "Mili-
tary Authority" (Het Militaire Gezag)-com-
posed of himself and two other sergeants-
as an integral and official part of the gov-
erning machinery. Government powers
since that time have been jointly exercised
by civilian authorities appointed by the
military, the newly organized Military Au-
thority, and the National Military Council.
The division of formal and informal power
between these three groups, and within
them, is opaque, changeable, and un-
Bouterse claimed that his actions gave
the "revolution" a "new start" Others were
less generous, pointing out that he only
succeeded in anchoring the ship of state
dead in the water between the "left" and the
"right." By dismissing President Ferrier and
abolishing the constitution, any return of the
old parties and politicos by electoral means
was squelched. By landing a blow to Sital
and Mijnals he was rid of his ideological
adversaries and power competitors. Al-
though his personal power was immense he
drew a great deal of strength from the so-
called moderates in military and civilian gov-
ernment. The "center" held, yet it was more
of a "mathematical center" than an ideo-
logical one; left is cancelled out, right is
cancelled out, and the center is what re-
Nevertheless, definitions of socialism were
rampant. "Socialism isn't communism, is
it?" was a regularly asked question. Sighed
an elderly woman who was active in pre-
coup politics, "Socialism means punishing
us and making strangers come live in my
house." A teenage entrepreneur selling
crushed ice cones wanted to expand his
operation to two push carts, one of which his
brother could operate, but was afraid be-
cause "government will take it away from
me if I have more than one." One local
intellect with access to the mass media
defined socialism as "loving people," capital-
ism as "loving money," and communism
as "not loving anything." The propaganda
mill was churning but not delivering.
Businessmen complained that people
were not buying extras and durables and
they were afraid to invest or expand. Money
was being secreted out of the country or
taken out of banks and circulation and
hidden. A poor woman in one of Para-
maribo's low status neighborhoods bought
canned food and hoarded it because a
young conscript soldier told her"something
is going to happen." A highly placed finan-

cial official told me in reply to a question
about foreign investment, "The outside
world is being very patient with us; I just
hope we don't collapse internally."

Trials and Tribulations
On September 9 a decree was issued call-
ing for the establishment of a "Special Tri-
bunal" to deal with crimes of corruption un-
der the former government and the offend-
ers who were involved in the alleged left
coup of August The hapless Arron, arrested
and released, was rearrested for trial. It was

"The more I think about
this, the more I feel it is a
revolution of return

not clear exactly what the charges would be
and certain civilian officials were critical of
the move. Renewed publicity, it was felt,
would serve only to open old wounds-
never really conclusively dealt with. In fact,
Arron never was tried by this special body
and remained in jail until his latest release in
February 1981. Creole Surinamers, espe-
cially those members of the former party
headed by Arron felt that the treatment
given him was a personal attack on them.
They were after all, the thousands and
thousands of them, the "old politics" and
were proud of it
On December 11, the participants in the
alleged left coup, who had been in jail since
their August arrest, were given sentences of
up to two years in prison. Graffiti by their
supporters appeared on walls and roadways:
"Free Sital," "Free Mijnals." Concerned citi-
zens found the Tribunal objectionable be-
cause of its retroactive and vague definitions
of corruption and establishment by decree.
The profound sentiment among many Suri-
namers was fright. There was, they felt, no
law in the land save the caprice of the
Early 1981 and the "revolution" was
bogged down; cynics referred to it as the
"administrative revolution." An old politician
told me: "Politics in Suriname is still a game,
still a game. But this time there is no way
out." A young cabinet minister said; "Do
you know what we are up against? Time is
running out and we have to change Suri-
name from a foreign owned plantation
composed of laborers to a country com-
prised of citizens." In his dismay he re-
counted the story of having the locks
changed on his office door. Six government
workers came; five played cards, smoked
cigarettes and supervised. The military was

growing frustrated and, under increasing
pressure to deliver, expected sabotage when
even the most elaborate of long term pro-
grams were not completed immediately.
They held doggedly to the belief that all
problems can be overcome if the right
orders are given.
In an effort to promote the revolution and
"change the mentality" of the masses, "Peo-
ple's Committees" (Volks Comites) were
established bythe military and administered
directly by the National Military Council.
They were designed to act as a communi-
cation device between grass roots groups
and the Military Council. They function to
promote development and politicize the
masses. Although no particular ideological
model was used, conservatives denounced
the innovation as a marked swing to the left.
Supporters of the old political parties-
themselves already highly politicized!-dis-
missed the Volks Comites with a sharp hiss
of the teeth and critique that "young boys
are telling us what to do." Ridicule, a time
honored weapon was applied to the new
military. When an older woman was asked
about the degree of neighborhood partici-
pation in a local Committee she replied,
"People aren't stupid. If they want to pave
our streets, install electricity, or throw a
block party, we'll take it But they will never
pull the beliefs from our hearts."
On a propaganda trip to the rural district
of Coronie to promote a local Committee,
the military leadership resorted to promising
abundant development money if the Coro-
nians would lend their support Music,
dancing, food, drink, speechifying, gossip,
promises, and private deals followed. In-
deed, this was politics. In a cloud of dust the
military went back to Paramaribo leaving the
Coronians to go about their business. The
old Suriname adage seemed to be holding
true: "Winti wai, lanti pal" (The wind blows
and the government pays).
Meanwhile, President Chin A Sen was
mustering civilian and public support by
promoting his "Government's Declaration,"
first delivered in May of the preceding year,
through a "meet the people" campaign. He
met with members of religious communi-
ties, commercial organizations, and labor
unions. The Doctor, separate from the mili-
tary, seemed to be piecing together support
for the civilian government as the "last best
hope." A ground swell of national support
did not greet the military chiefs at the first
anniversary of the revolution. Major Bouterse
was booed by high school students. The
streets of Paramaribo crackled with the
news that a young woman stood up to him
and implored "When will you let us have our
freedom back?' Major Bouterse and his
allies in the military were sailing on unsettled
It is possible that the military anticipated a
glum reception for just prior to the celebra-
Continued on page 49

Puerto Rico's

1980 Elections

The Voters Seek the Center

By Harold Lidin

The incumbent began his re-election
campaign early, and he began well.
He began with a united party behind
him and a shrewd, seasoned campaign
team at his side. During the campaign he
was buoyed by the polls, which showed he
was ahead, way ahead. But Carlos Romero
Barcel6, candidate for re-election as gover-
nor of Puerto Rico, almost lost. The chal-
lenger began early too, but he began badly.
His campaign team, which seemed to op-
erate apart from the party structure, lacked
coaching. The polls were discouraging. Yet
Rafael Hernandez Col6n, candidate for gov-
ernor of the Popular Democratic Party(PDP),
almost won. Romero got 759,868 votes,
47.23 percent of the total. Hernandez Colon
took 756,434 votes, 47.02 percent Two pro-
independence parties divided, unevenly, the
Three major explanations are given for
Romero Barcel6's failure to win decisively.
Observers who read current events through
the lens of history can see that a supposed
attachment of the Puerto Rican people to
autonomy, or more precisely, to the goal of
autonomy, welled-up again on Nov. 4,1980.
Romero Barcelo, according to this interpre-
tation, was nearly drowned in the same pro-
autonomist tide that in the late 19th century
did drown the Partido Incondicional Espafi-
ol, a party that favored integrating Puerto
Rico fully into the national government of
Spain. This tide rose again in 1904, after the
early pro-statehood euphoria generated by
the US invasion in 1898, and swept state-
hooder Jose Celso Barbosa from the helm
of island politics. In the 1940s, after avowed
independentista Luis Munoz Marin had
come to power, this autonomist tide swelled
again, this time forcing him to abandon all
talk of independence in favor of a kind of
compact" with the United States called Com-
A second group, persons characterized
by their rabid dislike for Romero, contends
that voters rebelled against Romero's style
more than his pro-statehood stance. "The
Puerto Rican people don't like to have their
ears pulled," commented one observer who
thinks Romero's "tough" style of governing
cost him support.
Still a third group, and to this group be-

long numerous Romero partyworkers, opine
the explanation for Romero's disappointing
performances lays in something less pro-
found than volk loyalty to autonomy, in
something less emotional than personal dis-
like for Romero. "Apathy" this third group
insists, denied Romero the decisive victory
he expected, the big win he needed to move
ahead with his plan to hold a plebiscite in
1981 on the island's political status. "Apathy"
in a broad sense-apathy that included the
overconfidence that supposedly led many
Romero sympathizers to stay home on elec-
tion day. But "apathy," as an explanation,
begs the question. Granted that most of the
"apaticos" were potential Romero votes, the
gut question remains: "Why were they apa-
The New Progressive Party (NPP) spent
$1.8 million in campaign publicityto interest
the public in voting for Romero. For this
money the NPP got a superb, 30 minute
documentary portraying Romero as a pru-
dent public official and a tender parent; the
NPP also got a series of high quality tele-
vision campaign spots portraying Romero
as a capable, and concerned executive who
had efficiently solved much of the mess
supposedly left by his predecessor. That
predecessor was Hernandez Colon, whose
four-years in the Fortaleza (1973-1976) in-
cluded the worst of the Arab oil-provoked
recession. During the Hernandez Colon
recession, the Puerto Rican government's
credit sagged. Romero, in his TV spots,
punched at the theme that he had regained
for Puerto Rico the confidence of Wall
Street. But the Romero spots also included
one that showed a factory worker, indus-
triously laboring, content in the knowledge
that now the factory owneralso paid taxes--
thanks to Romero's reform of tax exemp-
tion. The PDP creator of an industrialization
program geared to low wages and tax-give
aways, had obstinately but unsuccessfully
fought to protect the concept of 100 percent
tax exemption for Fomento-sponsored in-
dustry. In truth, the Romero campaign
seemed to touch all bases. Besides "com-
paring the record" in a self-serving way with
Hernandez Colon's performance, the Ro-
mero advertising even reached into the sub-
liminal to overcome the "tough" image that

Romero projected to some persons. The
type faces on Romero's bus posters, for
example, were "soft," not bold.
Simultaneously with this carefully devel-
oped campaign pegged to the Romero
track record, there bubbled another NPP
publicity campaign-one based not on Ro-
mero's merits but on Hernandez Colon's
alleged mistakes and ineptness. To many
persons, especially the rabid NPP activists,
this second campaign was more interesting.
Certainly it was more controversial. It pic-
tured Hernandez Colon as a consorter of
Cuban communists, an erratic, unpredicta-
ble fellow-traveler who might someday snap
Puerto Rico's political connection with the
United States. This "low" campaign was
more topical; ads would appear in response
to a sudden newsbreak; perhaps to some
faux pas, real or imagined, by Hernandez
Colon. A favorite topic was the PDP candi-
date's August 1978 meeting in New York City
with members of the Cuban mission to the
United Nations. That meeting, held with the
participation of Puerto Rican Socialist Party
(Marxist-Leninist) Secretary-General Juan
Mari Bras, resulted in a Cuban agreement to
include "free association" as an acceptable
alternative to independence for Puerto Rico.
But if Hernandez Colon saw that as a boost
for Commonwealth, the NPP immediately
pounced upon it as a golden opportunity to
harpoon Hernandez Colon with that most
imperishable of Puerto Rican scare tactics-
the specter of the Popular Democratic Party
scheming to obtain the island's eventual
separation from the United States.
In depth-bombing Hernandez Colon's
meeting with the Cubans, the NPP did more
than sink his effort to substitute a rational
response for the standard US-Puerto Rico
claim that the island's status is strictly "an
internal affair." The NPP attack also pro-
duced an awkward split between Hernandez
Colon and PDP President Miguel Hernandez
Agosto. After initially supporting Hernandez
Col6n's Cuban strategy, Hernandez Agosto
buckled under the NPP blasts and disasso-
ciated himself from the Cuban accord. This
split, over a Cuban resolution before the UN
decolonization c mrrm.nrre. created a breach
between the two men that still haunts the
PDP today.

The "low" NPP campaign impressed most
uncommitted observers as muddier than
necessary. Many Romero stalwarts, how-
ever, found it too p.Il, ,. "We were too little
aggressive in retorting to their accusations.
campaign staffer Maricarmen Romero com-
mented. "We produced many very pretty
ads." The NPP strategists discount, or ap-
pear oblivious to, the strong possibility that
the main effect of the "low campaign was
to blur the image of prudent statesmen and
effective administrator that the formal, pre-
planned advertising campaign had created.
Virgilio Ramos, the Romero campaign man-
ager, feels that voters have found the TV ads
applauding Romero's record "a little dry,
compared to the "very emotional PDP
campaign advertisements. Some of the
PDP advertisements exploited situations like
the police killings of a squatter named Adol-
fina Villanueva, and of two young indepen-
dentistas at the Cerro Maravilla hilltop where
several communication towers are located.
Yet the PDP in trying to milk these two
tragedies for votes, faced a peril of boomer-
ang. In the absence of any hard evidence
showing Romero complicity in these kill-
ings, or even police brutality, the conserva-
tively-shaped Puerto Rican electorate tended
to have little sympathy for the victims of
police action. While those who publicly
commented on such incidents often criti-
cized the police, the silent majority took the
quiet view that "terrorists" get what they
deserve when they get shot. For a political
candidate, any suggestion that he is "soft on
terrorists" can be costly. Cerro Maravilla as
an explanation for Romero's disappointing
performance at the polls, is much more
convenient than persuasive.

Political Activity
Another reason given to explain voter apa-
thy-only 78% of the elected voters went to
the polls last November in contrast to 86% in
1976-was the high level of political activity
here last year before the gubernatorial cam
paign began. The year 1980 began with
Republican presidential candidates working
the island's shopping centers and plazas: all
the top GOP presidential candidates came
except Reagan. The spirited contest saw
George Bush corral 14 convention dele-



Former Governor of Puerto Rico Rafael Hernandez Colon with Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis
and Norman Mailer 1980. Wide World Photos Former Governor of Puerto Rico Luis Munoz
Marin with former San Juan Mayoress Feliza Rincon de Gautier. 1976. Puerto Rican Governor
Carlos Romero Barcelo taking the oath of office. 1981. Wide World Photos


gates in a February winner-take-all primary.
Soon after the GOP derby, which saw all the
presidential hopefuls pledge to support
statehood if that was the islander's choice,
the Democrats staged a fierce battle bill-
boarded as a previewof the November gen-
eral election. Whereas the GOP primary
involved only members of Romero's New
Progressive Party, the Democratic primary
pitted Democrats in the NPP against Demo-
crats active in the PDP The former sided
with President Carterand the latterwith Sen.
Edward "Teddy" Kennedy, a relationship
that sent Romero into the streets to cam-

News from the
Latin American
and Caribbean Center

Two conferences were recently
held at Florida International Uni-
versity under the auspices of LACC.
A Conference on Maritime Issues
In the Caribbean (co-sponsored
with the Center for Latin American
Studies of the University of Florida)
featured panels on political and
legal issues and fisheries. Original
papers were presented by Prof.
Kaldone Nwelhed, Universidad
Simon Bolivar; Prof. Vaughan
Lewis, UWI; Mr. Lennox Ballah,
Ministry of External Affairs, Trini-
dad and Tobago; Prof. J.S. Kenny,
UWI; and Dr. C.R Idyll, NACOA. To
be edited by Conference Coordi-
nator Dr. Farrokh Jhabvala of the
Department of International Rela-
tions, these papers will be pub-
lished in the near future.
The Department of Economics,
LACC, and the Student Govern-
ment Association sponsored a two
day Focus on the Caribbean Basin
in late April. The conference
brought together economists and
policy makers from a number of
Caribbean institutions to discuss
major economic problems of the
region, including income distribu-
tion, stagflation, integration and
urbanization.Conference partici-
pants established a common re-
search agenda and priorities and
will soon present a joint research
proposal for funding consideration.
Dr. Jorge Salazar, Chairman of the
Department of Economics, was
conference coordinator and is the
research project coordinator. For
further information, please contact
Dr. Salazar at 305-552-2316.


paign against the Hernandez Col6n-led
Carter, following the strategy of letting
Iran's Khomeini campaign for him, can-
celled earlier plans to make a three-day
appearance here. Kennedy did arrive, but
stayed only one day. The duel between the
two men was fought by surrogates, and the
result-21 delegates for Carter to 20 for
Kennedy-foretold what would happen in
November when the two surrogates would
wear their own colors. The Democratic pri-
mary results clanged like a warning bell, but
many in the NPP managed not to hear its

For decades- generations
even-Puerto Rican voters
have evaded decisions.

message. The skeptics lulled themselves
with the observation that important party
leaders like Senate president Luis A. Ferre
and San Juan Mayor Hernan Padilla-both
Republicans-remained on the sidelines
during the Carter-Kennedy (Romero-Her-
nandez Col6n) battle. Too, the name Ken-
nedy still lured voters in Puerto Rico, the
NPP optimists were eager to admit. More-
over, the quick upsurge in strength that the
PDP displayed in behalf of Kennedy seemed
to evaporate soon after the primary. By the
time the rival gubematorial campaigns be-
gan in earnest, the PDP again wore an or-
ganizationally ragged look.
For a while it seemed that a battle between
a combat-ready regular army and a disor-
ganized home militia was in the making.
Even late in the struggle, when the PDP
began scoring well, its campaign apparatus
never did acquire the well-oiled whir of the
Romero machine. Repeatedly, Romero
warned against over-confidence. Methodi-
cally, he turned away reporters' questions
about a possible "copo,"-capture of all
eight of Puerto Rico's senatorial districts.
NPP activists heard the Romero warnings,
but didn't believe them. They didn't believe
that Romero himself believed that the elec-
tion outcome was uncertain. The NPP can-
didate, up through September, could hardly
have drawn any conclusion but that he had
a sweeping victory assured. Crowds were
good on the campaign hustings; sizeable
and friendly. Even known PDP members,
Romero told a reporter one day, were less
hostile than in 1976. "The Populares are
receptive...many, many, a very high percen-
tage look at us in a receptive way."
Strengthening NPP optimism was the
drumbeat of Independence Party propa-
ganda, a publicity strategy aimed at luring
the "soberanistas," advocates of a broad
autonomy for Puerto Rico, away from the

Popular Party. To make the move less trau-
matic, the Puerto Rican Independence Party
(PIP) even amended its platform to promise
that-if victorious-it would not seek imme-
diate separation from the United States. In-
stead, the PIP would first have to demon-
strate its ability to govern successfully. In
effect, the PIP strategy abetted the NPR
since it aimed at dissolving Puerto Rico's
broad middle voting ground, replacing it
with an electorate polarized between state-
hood and independence. This, of course, is
the kind of demarche both statehooders
and independentistas have always pro-
claimed as desirable.
But now the Marxist-Leninist Puerto Rican
Socialist Party, (PSP) whose leader Juan
Mari Bras had figured in the controversial
New York meeting between PDP leader
Hernandez Col6n and the Cubans, began
promoting a split ballot whose effect was to
throw PSP gubernatorial votes to the Popu-
lares. The play involved support for Mari
Bras and PSP President Carlos Gallisa foran
at-large seat in the Senate and the House of
Representatives, respectively, but with the
gubernatorial vote going to Hernandez
Colon, the one candidate with a genuine
chance of stopping the statehood-bound
Romero. The PSP split-ballot strategy offered
another appeal, one with considerable ap-
peal to non-independentistas. The pres-
ence in the legislature of these two out-
spoken critics of the Establishment, it was
said, would help keep the legislature honest.
Presenting themselves as "watchdogs" of
the legislative process surely accounted for
many of the 77,000 votes Mari Bras took,
and the 82,000 Gallisa won. This was nearly
equal to the 87,000 votes Berrios received
as the PIP gubernatorial candidate, more
than 15 times the 5,000 votes the PSP gub-
ernatorial entry received. While leaders of
both pro-independence parties beseeched
their followers to give their gubernatorial
vote to the official party candidate, members
of both parties crossed over to put their "X"
alongside Hernandez Colon's name. Just
how many did this, however, is unclear.
Much more definable, even precisely
countable, was the overwhelming support
given winner Romero by the police, since
they vote on the days just previous to the
election and their ballots are counted apart.
Police voted three to one in favor of Romero,
a margin large enough to cover the 3,435
vote edge with which he beat Hernandez
Col6n. Another specialized group that
boosted Romero were the Puerto Rican col-
lege students on the US mainland. Their
vote was recruited by the Association of
Puerto Rican University Students for State-

Election Night
With an election as close as last November's
gubernatorial contest-Romero took
759,868 votes to 756,434 for Hernandez

Col6n-numerous persons and organiza-
tions could claim their particular contribu-
tion gave the margin of victory. On election
night both parties fed advance polling re-
turns to the local television, at a pace well
ahead of the tallies provided by the State
Elections Commission. This gave rise to the
unhappy situation which showed the NPP in
the lead, while the government's own Com-
mission was reporting the Popular Demo-
cratic Party ahead. The explanation for this
anomaly is that early returns came pre-
ponderately from the traditional PDP towns
out on the island.
Romero, eager to rally the spirit of his
shaken organization, summoned newsmen
to his Fortaleza office at 11 p.m., and from
the seat of power, proclaimed his re-election
by an estimated 18,000 votes. This action,
understandable as an act of tribal survival-
ism, impressed the Populares as an unpar-
donable breach of democratic propriety.
Hernandez Col6n, who heard Romero's
pronouncement while motoring towards
San Juan from his voting residence across
the island, frenziedly denounced it as a bra-
zen election grab. Arriving at PDP head-
quarters, he inflamed an already seething
crowd with charges that Romero was at-
tempting a coup d'etat, and compared
Romero to a Somoza and Trujillo. The
crowd, responding to the rhetoric, began
chanting "Romero y Somoza, son la misma
cosa." From PDP headquarters, they made
a post-midnight march to Roberto Clemente
Coliseum, where the Elections Commission
had installed its vote-counting center, pelt-
ing police with stones as they arrived. Riot
police drawn up in combat-ready formation,
inside the Coliseum entrance, kept the mob
at bay, however, until PDP officials emerged
to cool the crowd. Hernandez Col6n himself
seemed reassured after he learned that the
stall in the vote-count came from the failure
of local election centers out on the island to
continue feeding information. That break-
down, which fueled PDP fears of an election
steal had a simple explanation but one
which was not apparent to the public in San
Juan; hundreds of local elections out on the
island were so close that the process had
become snarled in myriad arguments over
challenged ballots-discrepancies which
would have been academic had the margin
in victory been more than a few votes for a
given mayoralty or district representative
When the vote count was resumed, six
days later, both sides were claiming victory.
The only thing clear to all was that the state-
hood drive had been stopped dead; Her-
nandez Col6n claimed it had also been bur-
ied. Romero would dispute that; but accepted
that the plebiscite should be scrapped for
now. One week after election day, the ballot-
by-ballot recount began. Now those many
local disputes that had snarled the election
returns on election night surfaced. Batch

after batch of challenged ballots had to be
adjudicated; for weeks clusters of -political
activists from around the island haunted the
converted garment warehouse used to store
the 1,623,952 ballots cast in the election.
When the recount finally ended, nine weeks
after election day, Romero had retained
Fortaleza, the PDP had captured the Senate
but the control of the House of Representa-
tives still hinged on legal disputes over the
qualifications of a PDP candidate and sev-
eral district races. As of Easter, control of the
House was still undecided. Sessions take
place with the hold-over Secretary of the
House presiding, but little of substance
happens. Instead of producing the legisla-
tion to help Puerto Rico offset the impact of
the Reagan cutbacks in federal welfare, the
one topic of interest in the House is a venom-
ous feud over whom should head the PDP
In the Senate the conflict is primarily inter-
party, not intra-party. But the atmosphere is
quite as mean as in the House. The failure of
any independentistas to win a legislative
seat (in either chamber) means the legisla-
tive process remains unilluminated by the
fresh insights that a third party traditionally
has contributed in the past The PDR in an
eager display of its power, rejected Ro-
mero's first cabinet nominee without so
much as questioning him about farm policy.
Romero, in order to maintain a functioning
government, has taken the questionable
position that he can retain cabinet officers
from his previous administration without
submitting them again to Senate confirma-
Predictably, the stalemate in government
has promoted groans from the populace,
frustrated letters to editors and columns
chastising the politicians for lack of leader-
ship. Missing from the din however, is any
citizen mea culpa, any acknowledgement
that the architects of the Puerto Rican im-
passe are the people. For decades-gener-
ations even-Puerto Rican voters have
evaded decisions. Given the opportunity
every four years to choose parties which-if
given a clear mandate would resolve the
island's political status dilemma-voters
have preferred to keep their leaders on a
short status leash. This was true even when
PDP founder Luis Muhoz Maiin controlled
the island. Originally an independentista,
Munioz found himself obliged to shuffle on
status, eventually settling with Washington
for a vaguely-phrased accord "in the nature
of a compact" instead of independence, or
even an autonomous status like the Dutch
West Indies or such British associated states.
Each time Muhoz, and his PDP gubemator-
ial sucessors tried to expand the autonomy
of Puerto Rico's Commonwealth status,
they were rebuffed by Washington and lost
ground to island pro-statehood forces. But
when statehood governors Luis Ferre and
Romero promoted that solution, they were

rebuffed by voters. Instinctively, persistently,
Puerto Rican voters sought the center. Fear-
ful of independence, wary of autonomy,
undisposed toward statehood, they had
manuvered into the middle. Finally, last
November, they achieved the almost unat-
tainable-a vote that divided 50-50.
Now they had the true center Now they
have dead center.

Harold Lidin is a political journalist with the San
Juan Star.

Occasional Papers Series

Latin American
Caribbean Center

The Latin American and Carib-
bean Center at Florida Interna-
tional University is pleased to
announce the creation of an Oc-
casional Papers Series on Latin
America and the Caribbean.
Research that addresses indi-
vidual countries or the whole of
Latin America and/or the Carib-
bean from the perspectives of
the humanities and social sci-
ences is welcome. Themes with
interdisciplinary approaches are
especially encouraged.
Manuscripts should be no
longer than 45 typewritten pages
in length, and should be sent in
duplicate to: The Editor, Occa-
sional Papers Series, Latin Amer-
ican and Caribbean Center,
Florida International University,
Miami, FL 33199.



La Fortaleza Replies

An Answer to

"Puerto Rican Culture at the Turning Point"

By Loretta Phelps de Cordova et als

Editor Barry B. Levine pointed out in
the summer issue of this magazine
that Puerto Rico is at a turning point.
One may agree with that observation, how-
ever, without indulging in a morass of nos-
talgia and pessimism as did a number of the
contributors. Certainly we must study our
past to understand the present and plan for
the future. In doing so, we should consider
not only the passing of one great leader, Luis
Mufioz Marin, but also the possible emer-
gence of a successor, Governor Carlos
Romero Barcel6. Most certainly we must
review the economic and culture pragma-
tism-some would say hypocrisy-of the
past ruling elite; and we must analyze the
myriad cultural patterns at work in a society
which-while demonstrating that the state-
hood cause is maturing although perhaps
not ripe-continues to define its unique
blend of the United States and Caribbean
ways of life. For the first time in history, the
complex and vigorous Puerto Rican voter
split the ballot in large numbers, electing a
statehood governor, mayor of San Juan,
and resident commissioner in Washington,
in hotly-contested races, while dividing the
legislative bodies. The writers who follow
reflect a variety of age and background:
although I coordinated their participation,
each person is totally responsible for his or
her own personal views. All of them have in
common that they are ultimately optimistic
and futureminded, rather than hesitantly
condescending and reactionary.
No More Colonialism
By J. Edward Marrero
Voices from the past: that is what Caribbean
Review offered its readers in its Summer
1980 issue on Puerto Rico. In addition to
reprinting material ten and more years old,
the magazine published several current arti-
cles by writers better equipped to reminisce
than to look ahead.
Since the central theme was the passing
of former Govemor Luis Mufioz Marin, a
giant of a bygone era, the prevalent atmos-
phere of nostalgia tinged with melancholy
was perhaps to be expected. What was miss-
ing, however, was anything at all that could
place the subject matter in a realistic histori-
cal context.

Contrary to what a reader might have
surmised from a casual perusal of Carib-
bean Review, Puerto Rico is not about to
fade away, disintegrate, or stagnate in a
lagoon of spiritual and intellectual malaise.
What was not adequately brought out in that
mass of often articulate verbiage was the
vitality of the present era: an era which in
numerous ways constitutes the true legacy
-if not the intended legacy-of Mufioz
Through his successful sponsorship of
rapid economic development, Mufoz es-
sentially transformed Puerto Rico from an
agrarian poorhouse into an urban dynamo.
Fatalistic pessimism gave way to rising ex-
pectations. Along the way, the intellectual
and cultural "establishment" of the Mufioz
years was largely left by the wayside-
something they understandably resent, and
which is reflected in much of what their
spokesmen published in Caribbean Review.
As they have seen their standard of living
rise dramatically, Puerto Ricans have not
only become less insular in their outlook,
they have also become less complacent-
or timid-about their political status. Their
remarkable economic achievements have
imbued them with an unprecedented sense
of self-confidence.
Overlooked amidst the fractious infight-
ing that characterizes the professionally po-
litical, there has arisen among the mass of
Puerto Ricans a quiet determination to forge
a permanent, dignified solution to the is-
land's centuries-old political status dilemma.
Today, countless Puerto Ricans believe such
a solution is achievable, and are anxious to
secure it without delay.
Muioz Marin himself turned away from
independence as a political status alterna-
tive over thirty years ago, after he discovered
through innumerable informal chats with
his beloved jibaros that the overwhelming
majority of them were fully content to be
American citizens. And Muioz was right:
despite dramatically changed circumstanc-
es, including a worldwide surge of anti-
colonial sentiment which has been felt
nowhere more strongly than in the Carib-
bean, Puerto Ricans to this day reject inde-
pendence overwhelmingly-notwithstand-
ing the fact that the leader of the island's

principal pro-independence political party is
as brilliant and personable a public figure as
any who has come along since Munoz
The pro-independence movement is in a
rut: after achieving close to 20 percent of the
vote in 1952 (when the statehood forces
could muster only 13 percent), it has failed
to poll as much as even 8 percentof the vote
since 1956. Statehood meanwhile has
surged in popularity, rising steadily.
The intellectual and artistic coterie
around Mufioz was comprised primarily of
independence sympathizers who viewed
"commonwealth" as a transitional com-
promise. Today, the remnants of this elite
stand appalled by the contrary sentiments of
the public at large, and many of them have
responded by seeking a "change of venue
for the debate: going outside Puerto Rico to
international forums, or publications like
Caribbean Review, in search of solace and
support for their ideal. They hope by this
means to at least mount roadblocks that will
detain the march toward statehood, while
they regroup and await possibly more favor-
able future trends.
The opponents of statehood never tire of
recounting the dismal conditions in which
many Puerto Ricans already residing in states
of the Union are obliged to subsist But what
they conveniently overlook is that the hard-
ships endured by mainland Puerto Ricans
are due in no small part to calculated poli-
cies implemented by Governor Muiioz in
the 1940s and 1950s. As a means of reduc-
ing unemploymentand the burden it placed
on govemment services, migration to the
mainland was actively encouraged through-
out the early years of Muioz's industrializa-
tion program. Yet at the very same time, the
anti-statehood ideologues then in power
deliberately destroyed the excellent program
of English language public school instruc-
tion which they inherited from the era of
Presidentially appointed govemors. Thus
they sent hundreds of thousands of Puerto
Ricans to an uncertain fate in New York and
other cities, while simultaneously seeing to it
that these migrants lacked the most impor-
tant tool they would need to advance eco-
nomically in an English-speaking environ-
ment. And on top of that, they promoted

relentlessly, both on the island and the main-
land, the notion that Puerto Rico was a
"country" in association with the United
States; that Puerto Ricans were not and did
not want to be "Americans." Accordingly,
the migrants went north feeling like outsid-
ers, and were duly treated like outsiders
once they arrived. Insecurity and prejudice
were exacerbated rather than mitigated.
Nevertheless, individuals who were re-
sponsible for this cynical and heartless pol
icy now have the audacity to cite the anguish
of the mainland Puerto Rican as evidence
that statehood would be a mistake!
Fortunately, the general public is not s:
naive as to believe them. Virtually e er C
Puerto Rican who can afford to do so
(including first and foremost the members
of the anti-statehood intellectual elite) pro
vides his or her children with private instruct
tion in English-not because they are
ashamed of Spanish or of being Puerto
Rican, but because they know perfect% hell
that being bilingual is an enormous per
sonal and professional asset. And it is pre-
cisely this same sentiment which fuels the

On the road to Loiza, 1958. Photo
Kenneth M. Bloom.


engine of pro-statehood politics among the
middle and lower classes: having seen
America begin in recent years to embrace
diversity and to encourage ethnic pride, they
no longer fear that a statehood bid would
meet with ridicule and rejection. (Indeed,
even the Ronald Reagan Republicans openly
advocate Puerto Rico's admission to the
Union as a Spanish-speaking state in their
1980 national campaign platform.) The
great majority of the Puerto Rican people do
not oppose statehood, so long as it is clearly
understood that no surrender of their "self-
hood" be demanded in return. They have
come to understand, as has the political
leadership of the United States, that there is
no contradiction or inherent conflict in
being at once a proud Puerto Rican and also
a proud American. (To note another exam-
ple, Jimmy Carter prefaced his 1976 cam-
paign autobiography Why Not the Best? by
writing, "1 am a southerner and an American
-in that order.")
Thanks in large measure to the self-
confidence they have acquired from the
economic progress achieved under the
leadership of Luis Muioz Marin, Puerto
Ricans are moving toward a consensus on
their future: no more colonialism (even if it
takes the form of a condescendingly cordial
candy-coated colonialism called "common-
wealth"). This new Puerto Rican galls the
heck out of the old guard ("How sharper
than a serpent's tooth..."). For my own part,
though, I think it's marvelous. I fully respect
independence as a philosophical concept,
and acknowledge the inherent right of the
people of Puerto Rico to opt for that status.
But as an American citizen, I would be
ashamed to see this island subjected indefi-
nitely to the psychically damaging form of
colonialism that is inherent in "common-
wealth." In my opinion, the Puerto Rican
people have more than amply demonstrat-
ed, in war and peace and in our fervent
commitment to democracy and individual
liberty, that we are very good Americans
In Search of Art
By Roxana Matienzo Carrion
Eneid Routte G6mez' article is a lot of words
that sound good together. The title, "The
Agony of Puerto Rican Art" is both an
attention-grabber and deceiving. It is deceiv-
ing because Routte cannot, or should not,
label any art in the world as "agonizing," in the
dying sense of the word. Obviously, Routte is
not aware that most aesthetic theories pro-
pose that art arises precisely from the glor-
ious struggle that the creator suffers. Conse-
quently, if the present political situation in
Puerto Rico is as truly tragic as Routte insinu-
ates...the Island must be in the midst of an
outburst of talent!
Routte does mention some of the creators
in the environment, such as the graphics
artists and the musical groups; yet she is

unaware of the weight of her statements as
she lapses back into the negative, nostalgic
vein, reminiscing about the past. The com-
ments about the Munoz era and the portrait of
the late Governor painted by Rod6n, add a
"Gatsby" touch to the atmosphere, and throw
the relevant askew.
Puerto Rico's art is in effect going through
a renaissance. The critical political situation
of the Island is causing people to think, and
thus to create. The struggle to define a status;
the need to make a transcendental choice
between two very able opponents: Carlos
Romero Barcelo, the statehooder, versus

Contrary to what a reader
might have surmised from
a casual perusal of Carib-
bean Review, Puerto Rico is
not about to fade away,
disintegrate, or stagnate in
a lagoon of spiritual and
intellectual malaise.

Ruben Berrios, the independentista, is pro-
voking individuals-artistsand non-artists-
to delve into the deepness of their hearts and
minds in the search of definitions. It is in this
individual, intense quest for identity, for truth
at all levels, that some great art is bound to
develop. 1980 might just mark a beginning
for Puerto Rican art in the universal sense;
and hopefully, in the coming years-with or
without the "Ministry of Culture"; with or with-
out the Institute of Culture-we could pro-
duce a Greene or a Garcia Marquez, or per-
haps a Dali.
Routte quotes Ricardo Alegria as saying:
"The creation of culture must have full free
dom and must be free from partisan political
influence" The quote is misleading, and Ale-
gria must have known it Culture is not
created, as he states. Culture exists. Culture is
not a whimsical concept sprouted from a
vacuum, or imposed at will as Routte insinu-
ates when writing: "The island's 3 million
people had a three-fold heritage: Indian, Afri-
can and Spanish." Heritage just doesn't die or
disappear...it evolves infinitely as the core of
that magic word: culture. Culture as defined
by the Oxford Dictionary is, "...the spread of a
trait or patten from its point of origin to other
areas;" and precisely, people are the carriers.
Mufioz implied this as he said: "Throughout
my life I have seen Puerto Rico sometimes as
the patria, sometimes as the people. They
tend to come into conflict, the patria and the
people, and the people usually win." But the
people and the patria are not in conflict The
people are the patria. The people know

instinctively who they are. In the expression of
their intemal definition, they give life to cul-
ture; when they are gifted, they give life to
great art.
The people don't need Institutes or Minis-
tries of Culture, or even leaders to direct their
minds and feelings. Ideas and thoughts flow
freely, and those capable of entrapping, inter-
preting and expressing them all create art

Notes on Puerto Rican Music
By Hector Campos-Parsi
Francis Schwartz's article on "The Bureauc-
racy of Music in Puerto Rico" is self-serving
in the extreme, managing to slant the truth to
such an extent that it sometimes simply dis-
appears. I usually ignore this type of self-
indulgence, but since he has attacked me on
my homeground-the Caribbean-I feel I
must set the record straight
Among his more outrageous flights of
fancy is his contention that the new law creat-
ing the Administration for the Development
of Art and Culture (ADAC) has been "bitterly
opposed by the majority of Puerto Rico's
leading artists" and that pianist Jesus Maria
Sanronia and I, in publicly supporting the bill,
earned the "opprobium of most Puerto Rican
artists and have been publicly condemned."
The purpose of ADAC is to provide stimu-
lus and coordination for the Puerto Rico
Symphony Orchestra, the Conservatory of
Music, the new Corporation for Performing
Arts, and the just-completed $18 million Fine
Arts Center, all of which are quasi-public cor-
porations in their own right and with their own
boards of directors. The Institute of Puerto
Rican Culture, also a quasi-public corpora-
tion, is dedicated to fomenting and preserv-
ing our native identity in a variety of formats.
Rather than falling under the ADAC umbrella,
however, it maintains a certain autonomy, in
that its executive director reports to the Gov-
ernor and also serves on the board of ADAC.
Thus the impact of ADAC on the Music Pro-
gram at the Institute should be one of
enhancement, especially in the distribution of
materials and through added interest on the
part of the public. Not only Jesus Maria San-
roma and I, but more than 360 of the most
distinguished artists, musicians, composers,
performers and thinkers on the island, backed
the ADAC legislation and signed a letter to
that effect which appeared in all our major
newspapers. Among these individuals were
the Figueroa family, Olga Iglesias, Sol Luis
Descartes, Washington Uorens, Rafael Ar-
rillga Torrens and Vanessa Vassallo.
Schwartz goes on to make all kinds of
specious claims for the Puerto Rico Society
for Contemporary Music. He says, for ex-
ample, that the Society opposes the ADAC
law. I, as a member of the Society, have never
heard of such a thing. (Schwartz and a few
friends do not constitute the Society!)
He then goes on to extol the International
Biennial of New Music, recently celebrated
here with the active cooperation of two

government entities, part of that "bureauc-
racy" dominated by statehooders: WIPR-TV
and the University of Puerto Rico. He claims
the Biennial has backing from the govem-
ments of West Germany and France. If so,
their consulates in Puerto Rico know nothing
of it!
The organization of the Biennial was
slammed by Luis A. Alvarez, a leading Puerto
Rican composer, to quote from his article in
El Reportero: "My first observation isthatthis
Biennial was not the Puerto Rico Society of
Contemporary Music, but rather the private
property of Aponte Ledee (the president) and
Francis Schwartz...These two took all the
responsibility for organizing the event so they
might emerge the intellectual heroes leaving
out the participation of the other members,
including the board of directors."
To illustrate further how Mr. Schwartz hogs
the limelight, Alvarez continues, "All five tele-
vised concerts (none dedicated to Puerto
Rican music) were coordinated by Francis
Schwartz, who appeared in the first and
second as performer, the third as composer,
the fourth with his wife as a performer, and in
the fifth as moderator together with Rafael
Aponte Ledee." He goes on to praise several
of the performers, but says that on the whole,
the Biennial was ragged in quality.
Another of Schwartz's comments is delib-
erately misleading. The Society does not
produce its own records and scores. The only
publications of this kind have been issued by
the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture Music
Section, which I direct. In our liberal policy, we
have included Mr. Schwartz's works, I might
add. On one point I agree with Mr. Schwartz's
analysis. "The musical future of Puerto Rico
promises to be active..Most Puerto Ricans
love the musical art and recognize the need
for its existence."

Puerto Rico: 1980
By Loretta Phelps de C6rdova
"The Phenomenology of Everyday Life" was
obviously written in an earlier time (1958)
and by a male (the late Charles Rosario, a
sociologist at the University of Puerto Rico).
Just as Professor Rosario noted and con-
trasted differences in living patterns between
earlier times and 1958, I would like to point
out some evaluations since then, and from a
female, rather than feminist, point of view.
When I first arrived in Puerto Rico, the
same year Rosario's article was written, I
walked through the streets of Old San Juan
with my young law student husband. Every-
one seemed to greet him: older, well-dressed
gentlemen, fruit vendors, young women,
blue-collar workers. That same summer out
on an errand with Quique-his old baseball
buddy-of the well-known Sevilla family in
Barrio Juan Domingo, the same thing hap-
pened. It was an exhilirating experience for
someone who had grown up in a less expres-
sive society.

In Puerto Rico I was to learn many new
patterns of behavior. Among others, not to
look men in the eyes on the street or in
public places, unless I was dealing with a
specific individual. Many writers have spo-
ken eloquently of the racial and class struc-
ture in Puerto Rico, although the male-
female relationship has not been treated
extensively. It seems to me a much more
volatile relationship than that on the United
States mainland. A look or a touch is still
considered powerful stuff. Perhaps it's a
hold-over from the Moorish past in which
women had to be shielded somehow or

...if the present political
system in Puerto Rico is
truly as tragic as Routt6
insinuates... the Island
must be in the midst of an
outburst of talent!

other from the inevitable male lust, coupled
with the Christian concept of purity. Ameri-
can and European cultures have gone so far
in the direction of permissivity, that they
seem at times to reflect a society of hedonis-
tic hemaphrodites. Not so in Puerto Rico!
Professor Rosario in his essay mentions
how the speed and mobility of our lives
today have diminished the phenomenon of
eye contact. Not all was jolly in the ancient
regime, however. The game of eye-contact
depended largely on racial and class differ-
ences in the past. The master-slave relation-
ship, and master-servant relationship de-
pended upon proper symbols of subservi-
ence including a down cast or submissive
demeanor on the part of the "lower" person.
In that, the female in this society shows the
same outward attitude. When my daughter
was thirteen, and growing into a young
woman, I mentioned in conversation that
she should maintain a polite, neutral-type
attitude in public places (other than when
with a large group of friends), to avoid lasci-
vious glances or comments. "You don't
have to mention that, mother! Of course I
know that!" And so she did, earlier than I,
having been bred in this culture.
Now, after my entire adult life having been
spent in Puerto Rico, my children having
grown up (and I, at the same time), I feel
most fortunate to live in this "criollo" blend
of cultures. The shielding of the women, I
have learned, can also be a liberating expe-
rience. One accepts certain rules of behav-
ior and appearances that in the mainland
US might be pejoratively considered over-re-
fined and over-feminine. In return one is
granted great consideration and allowed

great individuality, if so desired, and tre-
mendous scope in the professions and arts.
There is a marvelous sense of belonging
and also a privacy, at all social-economic
levels. One is allowed to share respect with
all whom one encounters. When I drive to
my hill-side home, I do not merely pass an
apparently endless number of bars and
"friquitines," I pass don Cesar's house,
Pipo's shop, Angel Julio's colmado, doia
Teresa's garden, and I have a feeling of tran-
quility and that they and I share a mutual
bond of affection and respect. Our fast and
mobile existence does not destroy that feel-
ing; rather, blended with our older traditions,
it provides limitless possibilities for devel-
opment, for all of us.
Loretta Phelps de Cordova works in the office
of the Governor of Puerto Rico. She co-ordi-
nated this series of responses from her office.
Edward Marrero, an associate professor of his-
tory at the University of Puerto Rico, is currently
on leave to serve as consultant to the Puerto
Rico Department of Education. Poet Roxana
Matienzo Carridn is a doctoral student in Span-
ish studies at the University of Puerto Rico.
Internationally-recognized Puerto Rican com-
poser Hector Campos-Parsi directs the Insti-
tute of Puerto Rican Culture Music Section.

Eneid Routte G6mez Responds
"The Agony of Puerto Rican Art"
Poet Roxana Matienzo Carri6n has taken
such poetic license with my article "The
Agony of Puerto Rican Art" that I fear she
has ended up agreeing with much of what I
wrote. I never used the term "agony" in the
"dying sense of the word" (!) but in the sense
of "struggle," "anguish," "torture." As any
newspaper reader or television viewer knows,
to mention but two media outlets, Puerto
Rico is indeed in the "midst of an outburst of
talent..." hence, "the political situation is as
truly tragic as Routte insinuates..." Puerto
Rico cannot produce a Greene or a Garcia
Marquez or perhaps a Dali, now or ever.
These men have already been produced by
their respective countries. Puerto Rico has
produced great works of art by Rod6n,
Homar, Martorell, Rosado del Valle, Myrna
Baez. Likewise, Ms. Matienzo Carri6n also
misreads quotes by Ricardo Alegria and
Luis Muhoz Marin. The only "whimsical
concept" of culture appears to come from
our poet's pen. Ms. Matienzo Carri6n has
allowed her own "ideas and thoughts (to)
flow freely," but she has also allowed herself
to be "entrapped" in a cultural conflict.
Francis Schwartz Responds
"The Bureaucracy of Music in Puerto Rico"
Hector Campos-Parsi's latest political errand
for the Governor's Office is to discredit the
validity of my article on the Puerto Rican
music scene. Campos-Parsi claims that I am
"fantasizing" about the widespread opposi-
Continued on page 51


The Blacl Power

Killings in Trinidad

Naipauls New Book of Essays

Reviewed by Gerald Guinness

The Return of Eva Peron. VS.
Naipaul. 228 pp. Knopf, 1980.

V S. Naipaul will soon be "our Con-
rad" if metropolitan hype has its
9 way and this may now be the mo-
ment to mount a modest protest before the
official canonization turns dissent into here-
sv. Fortunately the appearance of this new
book of four essays makes it possible to
pinpoint Naipaul's true virtues and, by so
doing, take him out of a hagiological race
where he was never a true runner.
The "true virtues" mentioned above can
be found in profusion in the essay entitled
r,. h.j -I X and the Black Power Killings in
Trinidad." This tells the story of how Michael
de Freitas, a Trinidad ne'er-do-well of mixed
parentage (father Portuguese, mother Bar-
badian) shipped out to London at the age of
twenty-four to spend fourteen years there
hustling and pushing drugs. Then came
one of those extraordinary transformations
only possible in an age of radical chic.
Michael de Freitas had a flash "conversion,"
first to Islam and the name Michael Abdul
Malik, then to Black Power and a new iden-
tity as "Michael X." As Black Power leader,
Malik was "shallow and unoriginal" writes
Naipaul, "but he sensed that in England,
provincial, rich and very secure, race was, to
Right and Left, a topic of entertainment. And
he became an entertainer." His act delighted
the liberal press which has always taken
vicarious pleasure in underdogs who sink
their teeth into the calves of the establish-
ment. Malik enjoyed a short, sweet spell of
power and fame, but this came abruptly to
an end in 1967 when he fell foul of the Race
Relations Act and went to prison for a year.
After his release some of the magic had
rubbed off and things were never to be the
same again.
The second phase of the story began in
1971 with Malik now back in Trinidad. He
had decided to put the money extracted
from gullible liberals to good account by
starting an agricultural commune-"agri-
cultural" in name only as nothing was ever
grown there. "He always moves in a big
way," one of his admirers said later. "If you
go to the supermarket with him he fulling up

v. Ivalpauil

two trolleys, one with meat only. You only
hearing these slabs of meat dropping in the
basket like iron-you know how they freeze
and hard. He don't want all he buy and you
know some of it will go rotten. But he want
people around to see." See they did, and
soon two newcomers were sharing the meat
that didn't go rotten. One was Hakim Jamal,
an itinerant black hustler from Boston and
the other his groupie English girl-friend,
Gale Ann Benson. The Malik-Jamal combi-
nation was a winner, Malik supplying the
ideas for the "black literature" pouring out
of the commune and Jamal the verbal flair
("to Jamal, an American, salesman's prose
came naturally" comments Naipaul getting
in his customary dig at the North American
lack of couth, an Oxfordian in the Bronx). A
well-publicized visit by John Lennon pro-
vided an apostolic blessing for the whole
Black Power, though, made less sense in
black Trinidad than it had in white Boston
and "Jamal, turning Malik into an American,
infecting Malik, in the security of Trinidad,
with the American-type racial vehemence
Malik had so far only parodied, was creating
a monster." An authentic racial hate soon
replaced Black-Power-as-Theatre and poor

Gale Benson, so conspicuously white and
so obviously a hanger-on with her "African"
clothes and radical posturings (all of which,
Malik thought, conspired to give the com-
mune a bad name), became the necessary
victim. On January 2, 1972, a professional
killer from Boston named Kidogo hacked
her to death in a shallow pit near Malik's
house. A month later a renegade member
of the commune Joseph Skerritt met a sim-
ilar fate, a third member Steve Yeates
drowned in mysterious circumstances, and
to cap it all the commune burned to the
ground. Suspecting skulduggery the police
made a thorough search of Malik's garden
and soon discovered the graves of Benson
and Skerritt. Malik was brought back from
Guyana where he was on the run, tried for
murder, and executed in May 1975. An
accomplice Stanley Abbott mouldered for
six years in a death cell and was hanged only
last year. The imported killer Kidogo was
never identified and is still at large.
This macabre and enthralling story seems
in every way to have been tailor-made for
Naipaul. In the first place, probably only
Naipaul could have written it. The combina-
tion of observed social fact and literary artis-
try is very much Naipaul's specialty, a current
example of the adage that creative writers
are often our best sociologists. The telling is
of course masterly and has a baroque brio
Handel might have envied. The whole story
works like a da capo aria with the long and
crucial flash-back to Malik's London expe-
rience sandwiched between vivid descrip-
tions of the events in Trinidad and with a
postscript on Benson's murder as coda. But
it is above all the theme of the piece which
has Naipaul's distinctive stamp on it, "first
world" concepts being applied (and in the
process distorted) in "third world" contexts.
A Mimic Man for Naipaul is an ex-colonial
who continues to rely on the metropolis for
patterns to live by, and Malik in this story is
the archetypal Mimic Man, someone defined
at every stage of his career by other men's
images, other men's needs. His journal and
ghosted autobiography show him as he
wanted to appear in other men's eyes; even
the murders and flight to Guyana were
scripted in the pages of a novel Malik began
to draft in Trinidad, as though reality could

only take place once it had been authenti-
cated by language beforehand. "This was a
literary murder, if ever there was one" is
Naipaul's terse summing-up.
"Malik's Negro was, in fact, a grotesque:
not American. not WestIndian, butan Amer-
ican caricatured by a red man from Trinidad
for a British audience." Fellow West Indians
could recognize a Mimic Man at play ("there
goes one of our con men" said Boscoe
Holder, a black dancer from Trinidad, when
he heard of Malik's activities in London) but
for the white audience it was a starkly
authentic performance, the Black Man for
All Seasons taking on the white establish-
ment Goliath. But Malik's tragedy was that
he failed to understand his audience, con-
sisting as it did of "that section of the middle
class that knows only that it is secure, has no
views, only reflexes and scattered irritations,
and sometimes indulges in play: the people
who keep up with 'revolution' as with the
theatre, the revolutionaries who visit centers
of revolution, but with return air tickets, the
people for whom Malik's kind of Black
Power was an exotic but safe brothel." Once
the show was over the audience moved on
to other entertainment, leaving behind them
a Mimic Man who had begun, fatally, to
believe in his own performance.
Gale Ann Benson too was part of the
audience but unlike the others she never
found it possible to move on in time. Women
like Gale obviously get Naipaul's goat and
he reserves for her some of his sharpest
barbs. "She was shallow, vain and parasitic
as many middle-class dropouts of her time...
[taking] on her journey away from home,
the assumptions, however little acknowl-
edged, not only of her class and race and
the rich countries to which she belonged,
but also of her ultimate security." Usually the
Gales of thisworld use their return air tickets
to beat a hasty retreat when the going gets
rough, but this particular Gale decided to
stay put. (Incidentally, Naipaul implies that
she did so through stupidity, but it is more
charitable to assume that she knew the risks
she was taking and decided to stick with the
commune, out of loyalty to her man and his
cause, to the bitter end.) In general, however,
Naipaul's animus against the hit-and-run
activists and radicals with return air tickets is

well justified and it is hard not to share his
scorn against those of Malik's erstwhile sup-
porters who, once the main show was over,
forgot about Stanley Abbott in his death cell.
"He was not the X," concludes Naipaul drily,
"he became nobody's cause; and by the
time he was hanged, that caravan had gone

To Bridge a Gap
Naipaul writes in an Author's Note that the
three pieces of rapportage that form The
Return of Eva Peron (the fourth essay is on
Joseph Conrad) bridged a creative gap:
"from the end of 1970 to the end of 1973 no
novel offered itself to me." In 1975 Guerrillas
appeared, a novel based on the Michael X
story, and it is instructive to compare the two
versions of the same events. Which version
makes the greater impact? And in which are
the themes more powerfully explored, the
motivation most clearly established, the
locale most vividly evoked? In each of these
categories it is the rapportage that wins
hands down. A comparison of Port of Spain
seen from Jane's car in Guerrillas ("the fac-
tories, set in ordered grounds behind fences;
and then the rubbish dump, the endless
town, the pitched roofs of separate little
shops and houses jammed together, the
rusting corrugated iron, jalousies and fret-
work, the greenery of backyards, the electric
wires, crooked walls, broken pavements,
unswept gutters") with the equivalent pas-
sage in The Return of Eva Peron gives a
clue to the acclaimed "brilliance" of Nai-
paul's style in the novels; it consists of a kind
of short-hand notation or telegraphese, scor-
ing points by the quick accumulation of
detail, suppressing links and hinting signifi-
cances. The diamond gets a polish in the
novelistic performance, but one ceases to
see the stone and catches only the glitter.
What might seem a minor criticism in the
context of locale and setting becomes a
major one when we turn to character and
motivation: here at least it is necessary to
see the stone clearly But in fact the Malik
figure in Guerrillas, the "red man" Jimmy
Ahmed (now part Negro, part Chinese), is a
blur throughout Jimmy is a Mimic Man but
in the novel there is no clear idea of what he
is imitating and why. The crucial English link

is indicated by a shadowy white woman to
whom he writes letters and one or two hints
about his former London fame; there is no
sense of where his "ideology" comes from
or, indeed, of what it is. The atmosphere of
menace the book generates has no under-
pinning and we have to take the political
crisis on trust Only by reading back Malik
into Ahmed can we understand why he
wants to "do agriculture," keep a journal,
and stuff his house with English fumiture.
And the new material Naipaul imports to
flesh out Ahmed, consisting for the most
part of a black boyfriend and a taste for bug-
gering white women, strikes this reader as
silly and in bad taste. Naipaul is too fastid-
ious a writer for this sort of thing to come
naturally and one remembers his earlier
confession in The Overcrowded Barracoon,
"But I cannot write sex...My friends would
The fellow-traveller with the return air
ticket in Guerrillas is Roche's girl-friend
Jane, and here too we are presented with a
bewilderingly diffuse figure, crushingly con-
ventional one moment and quite inexplica-
bly shameless the next. Naipaul's intention
is clear enough, but whereas Gale Benson
comes alive Jane is always dead, the sche-
matic "lost liberal," the vehicle at times for
Naipaul's own insights ("yet she saw, with a
satiric eye, the people around her as accum-
ulators, concerned about dead rituals and
dead forms, unmindful of the approaching
catastrophe"), at times the sacrificial victim
for white Western innocence and racial
good will. She is the personification of "the
people for whom Malik's kind of Black
Power was an exotic but safe brothel,"
although it takes a great suspension of dis-
belief to imagine her driving to Jimmy's
hideaway so soon after a racial upheaval to
offer her body to the revolutionary Numero
Uno. The ending of Guerrillas lacks credibil-
ity and good sense, substituting for these
qualities a lurid haze of Terrible Things to
"Guerrillas seems to me Naipaul's Heart
of Darkness" writes Anthony Thwaite in the
Observer, and this opinion, fatuous though
it is, serves to record an interesting phenom-
enon that Naipaul's fame has grown as his
Continued on page 52


A Different Image of Jamaica

By Aaron Segal

Written and Directed by Theodoros
Bafaloukos; Produced by Patrick Hulsey;
Featuring: Leroy Wallace, Richard Hall,
Marjorie Norman, Peter Honiball, and
Morris Williams; Distributed by New
Yorker Films, 1978. Color. 99 minutes.
Rockers is a rollicking, low-key, fun
Jamaican film that celebrates the
islands' musicians and tuneful music.
It is-the product of a curious but effective
partnership between a Greek film-maker,
Theodoros Bafaloukos, educated at the
Rhode Island School of Design, and Leroy
"Horsemouth" Wallace, drummer, reggae
band leader, actor and Rastafarian. Filmed
authentically on a low-budget in Jamaica,
Rockers relies almost entirely on a local cast
of musicians playing themselves. Most of
the dialog is in the Rastafarian dialect of
Jamaican Black English, and it comes with
much needed subtitles for the rest of the
English-speaking world.
The simple story line is a Jamaican mo-
rality play. Horsemouth, the hero, is a "hard
drummer," reputedly the best in Jamaica,
who struggles with occasional club and
record dates to make ends meet. A commit-
ted Rastafarian opting for a "Backto Africa"
message, deity, and cult, over the multiple
Christian churches that flourish in Jamaica,
Horsemouth hustles to support his nagging
wife and three small children.
Borrowing from Rastafarian brethren and
a loan shark, Horsemouth buys a used
motorbike to launch himself as a free-lance
record distributor. It is here that his real prob-
lems begin. Armed with a Lion of Judah
painted on his bike, Horsey tackles the
fiercely competitive netherworld of Jamai-
can recording studios and tiny retail outlets.
His ebullience and drive soon make him
one of the most accomplished of the island's
many itinerant vendors of a steady flow of
new 45 rpm discs.
Offered a part-time drumming stint at a
posh Ocho Rios hotel, Horsey meets the
curvaceous Sunshine, lovely and well-edu-
cated daughter of the hotel owner, and her-
self a secret Rastafarian. He also incurs the
hostility of Mr. Marshall, her father who has
no use for the long, matted dreadlockk"

hairstyle of the male Rastas, and his con-
niving hotel manager, Mr. Honiball.
Organized crime has come to Jamaica
with a vengeance and a gang of thieves
make off with Horsey's motorbike while he is
drumming. Stung and furious he makes the
rounds of his Rasta friends and fellow musi-
cians to rally support for his revenge. A tip
from Sunshine leads him to a warehouse
where stolen goods from all over the island
are being stored. Horsey breaks in, recovers
his bike, but soon after is set upon by a
group of thugs and severely beaten.
Horsey sulks, goes to the mountains to a
Rasta retreat, spums his grandmothers'
entreaty to return to the "Christian ways,"
and plots this time a measured revenge. He
announces his retum to Kingston by saying
"l-man have some music to play down in the
city there...A long time they fight me down in
the music business...I and I have to protect
ourself or we must bow."
Horsey begins by joining with his friend
Dirty Harry in taking over a disco night-club
frequented by educated, middle-class Ja-
maicans. The soft rock sounds of reggae,
"Rockers," win out for the night over the
imported hits as an irate club-owner and
baffled police standby while the crowd agrees
to "change the mood."
Horsey next collects a passel of friends
and fellow Rastas and carries out a stunning
midnight raid on the stolen goods ware-
house and the luxury homes of its owners,
Marshall and Honiball. Trucks and pickups
fan out over the island bearing a dawn greet-
ing of mounds of televisions, radios, clothes,
pianos and other stolen booty liberated for
the benefit of the Jamaican poor. While the
crowds scramble for this unexpected manna
a tired but content Horsey is deep in slumber.
Not Political Reggae
The 99 minute film is basically a vehicle for
exhibiting Jamaican musical life. Scenes
and episodes run from tune to tune, band to
band, and scores of top vocalists and musi-
cians perform, as well as playing themselves.
Curiously there is no one theme song al-
though Mango Records in New York City is
distributing the soundtrack of the film as an
album. The lyrics are clearly secondary,
although occasionally striking, and there is

little of the explicitly political reggae featured
by Jamaican Bob Marley. The film and the
music are light, toe-tapping, danceable, and
derived from reggae while incorporating
elements of soft rock, soul, and other styles.
Rockers provides a strikingly different
image of Jamaica from the film, The Harder
They Come, the firstJamaican-made film to
achieve international acclaim. Rockers has
no dog-eat-dog society although several
scenes are shot in the midst of the tough
West Kingston slums. Nordoes it dramatize
or glorify violence and there is a welcome
absence of guns, knives, and other weap-
ons. The white hotel manager and black
owner are portrayed as cynical, rapacious,
crooked and rather stupid while the police
are mostly inept and useless. A far cry from
the gunfights, gore, police corruption, and
general mayhem of The Harder They Come,
Rockers ends happily The poor enjoy-
without risk-goods stolen by others, a pure


or.- .%Z-

Robin Hood finish unlike the tragic death of
the hero in The Harder They Come, brought
down by police bullets.
Rockers provides a less faithful image of
Jamaican society than does The Harder
They Come but then it is a film about
Jamaican music. It carefully compresses
tunes and combos in a plot that puts a
minimum of strain on performers and view-
ers alike. The Harder They Come is a tragic
Horatio Alger story of the poor country boy
almost made good through big city music

later destroyed by the evils of the music
business and his own pursuits of twisted
fame. Music sets things right in Rockers, it
offers social mobility to some, but mostly it
is a form of relaxation, release, and enter-
tainment for all. Only the briefly glimpsed
foreign tourists in a hotel scene fail to par-
take, seeing and hearing Rockers "as the
latest kind of calypso."
It took considerable courage for Director
Bafaloukos to decide not to make a political
film and at the same time to feature the
Rastafarians. Even more courage was need-
ed to have the actors speak Rastafarian Eng-
lish throughout the film relying on subtitles
rather than dubbing. It is often argued that
large audiences simply will not sit through
subtitled films. Here the language plays a
central role as Horsey and his mates use the
"1" form in place of the proscribed "me,"
and "I and 1" rather than "we"; Rasta devices
for assuring the identity of the individual and
guarding against an anonymous collective.
Horsey and Sunshine establish instant rap
port through use of the dialect, relieving
Horsey's anxieties in the presence of some-
one who is obviously better educated and
wealthier. The sheer exuberance of the dia-
lect adds to the drive of the film and the
sense of Rasta solidarity.
While perhaps 10-15 percent of the total
Jamaican population adheres to some of
the Rastafarian beliefs, if not to the move-
ment itself, their influence on language,
music, clothing styles, and personal values
goes much further. Rockers introduces us
to a Rasta herbalist and holy man, Rasta

Far left: Rockers'
star Leroy "Horse-
mouth" Wallace.
Immediate left:
Rockers' Director
Theodoros Bafalou-
kos talking with
Wallace on the set.

locksmiths and metalworkers, Rasta motor-
bike salesmen, and most of all Rasta musi-
cians. Music is for many a vocation and an
avocation, a form of personal expression,
and a group effort. Rockers shows Rastas
as part of the vital mainstream of Jamaican
society, contributing to a national culture
and economy, while foreswearing some of
the materialism. The Rastas are good guys
while the bad guys are the big businessmen,
black and white, who steal, cheat, and use
violence which the Rastas abhor.
Rockers has its flaws to be sure but it is
well worth seeing. It opened in mid-1980 to
favorable critical reviews in cinemas which
feature foreign films in New York City and
Washington. It remains to be seen whether it
can go beyond the art-house circuit and
reach broader audiences. The Harder They
Come was also an art-house circuit film but
managed to be picked up by university cin-
emas, perhaps because of its image as a
"Third World Film" combining driving mu-
sic, sex and violence. Rockers depends on a
much softer sell and will almost surely not
acquire the "cult" status of The Harder They
Come. It is in many ways a less ambitious
and less interesting film. However its strength
is its music, its pace, and its sheer fun.
Rockers reveals that Jamaica has more
than one image to export on film.

Aaron Segalis the author of three books on the
Caribbean and one on Africa. He is with the
NSF in Washington, D.C.


Continued from page 7

moderates the leadership argued in favor of
continued borrowing from the IME PNP
leader Michael Manley was seen as identi-
fied with the leftist tendency in the party.
Manley's popularity within the electorate
declined as rapidly as the credibility of

August 1976 Poll
October 1976 Poll
November 1976 Poll
The December 1976 Elections
November 1977 Poll
March 1978 Poll
June 1978 Poll
November 1978 Poll
March 1979 Poll
July 1979 Poll
December 1979 Poll
March 1980 Poll
May 1980 Poll
June 1980 Poll
September 1980 Poll
October 1980 Poll
The October 1980 Elections


socialism experienced a downtum in the
estimation of the electorate. Confidence in
the maximum leader who challenged the
status quo to create a brave new society built
around social justice, tumed to doubts, disil-
lusionment, hostility and a sense of betrayal
as the dream of social deliverance that he
projected in his many speeches was matched
against the reality of the nightmare of hard-
ships being experienced by the workers and
peasants. The champion of the masses
clothed in the aura of populist legitimacy
was now increasingly seen as a false prophet


Table 2
Class Alignments Supporting the PNP

PNP vote 1972

& Unskilled
Manual Wage
White Collar Wage
Business and
Management Class
& High Income
Farm Labor
Small Peasants






PNP vote 1976





PNP vote 1980





who only succeeded in creating chaos, dis-
order and confusion in the body politic as
power struggles inside and outside his party
seemed to consume the energies of the
political community. The electorate sensed
that Manley had lost control over the situa-
tion and although his intentions remained
worthy of striving after, neither he nor his
party had any sense of how to achieve them
in the complex maize of power factions and
divided interests that constituted the plural-
istic Jamaican community.
As Manley's popularity declined and as
socialism came more and more to be
associated with violence, conflict, excessive
politicization and economic hardships, the
Seaga image of technocratic competence
emerged as a force enticing the support of
an electorate weary of long-winded speeches
that promised much and delivered little.
Edward Seaga therefore overtook Manley in
popular support between 1976 and 1980 as
the voters came to place more weight on
leadership qualities that seemed to offer
stable, predictable and reliable leadership
and capable management of the apparatus
of government. Seaga projected an almost
stereotypical technocratic image in sharp
contrast to the inspired, eloquent and char-
ismatic figure projected by Manley. Seaga's
mass support grew from strength to strength
as he concentrated on elaborate and statis-
tically detailed criticisms of PNP socialism.
In the process, the majority of the workers
and peasants shifted their political mood
from left to center.
The commitment to Seaga that devel-
oped over the 1976 and 1980 period was at
best tentative. The aspirations for social
justice inspired by the political mood under
Manley remained intact as hopes were
rekindled that more businesslike leadership
could bring them closer to the grasp of the
majority of the working people. The image
of administrative competence had trium-
phed over the image of charismatic popu-
lism, but the shift in political mood was
clearly predicated on the assumption that
greater administrative competence could
ease the burdens on the poor. Seaga, in
effect, has inherited the political legacy of
Manley. But he will be under greater pressure
than Manley to show visible results of eco-
nomic and social progress. This is against
the backdrop of a chronically debilitated
economy which demands more than just
technocratic competence to restore it to
adequate levels of vitality.
Manley's loss of power had its beginnings
in the very triumph of the 1976 election.
Having lost or alienated the middle class
and the business sector by his leftist brand
of single class politics, Manley did not have
the economic machinery to begin to deliver
on his promises to raise the quality of life of
the masses. Middle class criticisms of the
leftist excesses of his government grew in
spite of the PNP's domination of the mass

Table 1
Jamaican Public Opinion Poll Results
on Party Standings-The Carl Stone Polls
(The Daily Gleaner)

media. As the ideological mood and content
of the PNP and WPJ media shifted to the left
after 1976, the mood of the electorate
swung to the center. Thus, media impact
became both less consequential as well as
more counterproductive for it irritated mass
sentiments that were building up against the
PNP during that time.
The middle class and the business sector
swung heavily to the JLP but their ranks
have been decimated by migration and
demoralized by constant class and ideo-
logical harassment under the Manley gov-
ernment. They have lost confidence in their
abilityto give national leadership and are not
likely to provide the JLP with the active,
creative and dynamic network capable of
restoring self-confidence and motivation to
the productive classes. On the contrary,
these classes have retreated into an iso-
lationism that seeks to preserve their de-
clining but large-share of national wealth in
the vain hope of recreating the Jamaica of
the 1960s. The JLP will therefore be caught
in the precarious situation of relying almost
entirely on foreign capital from North
America to restore life to the economy. How
far the needs of the Jamaican economy are
compatible with the expectations of US
foreign capital is the key question to be
answered over the next five years, The anti-
imperialism of Manley has yielded to the
embrace of foreign capital by Seaga. But the
electorate will render its judgment of the
relative strengths of these alternatives on the
basis of benefits received rather than on the
basis of ideological preference.
In one important respect the massive
defeat of the PNP in the 1980 election was
consistent with the cyclical trend in voting
and political tendencies in Jamaica in the
post-war period. That cyclical pattern centers
around periods of ascendancy by the party
of change (the PNP), followed by periods of
ascendancy by the party of stability (the
JLP). The PNP arouses millenarian expecta-
tions for fundamental changes in the social
order which in turn generates intense popu-
lar support before disintegrating into
populist confusion. The terminal stages of
the cycle sets the stage for the party offering
incrementalist change but stable and rela-
tively conservative rule to emerge with popu-
lar majorities. By this process the center-left
PNP alternates in power with the center-right
JLP, over intervals of two electoral terms.
The PNP leadership clearly felt that it had a
chance to break this cyclical pattem but the
public opinion trends recorded in this au-
thor's polls told quite a different story.

Popular Sentiments
Both major political parties tried over the
months leading to the 1980 election to
define the agenda of the issues through
which to mobilize voter support on election
day. Voters of course, had their own sense of
what the central issues were. When the

Jamaican voters were asked to identify the
issues in the election campaign, economic
concerns emerged as the most important
ones. (Between December 1979 and Octo-
ber 1980, and again in January 1981 this
author repeatedly polled theJamaican elec-
torate. All poll findings are taken from the
results of those polls.) The issues that were
seen as most critical were those related to
economic management, political and social
disorder and ideology (in that order of
importance). Unemployment emerged as
the dominant economic issue, followed by

The elections of the future
are going to be character-
ized by massive swings.

concern for economic recovery, the high
cost of living and food shortages. This
agenda favored the JLP as it reflected deep
anxieties over the failure of the government
to ease the major economic burdens on the
poor. Concern over political and social
violence was next in importance charac-
terized by fears over inter-party violence, the
use of guns by party mercenaries, the
capability of the police and the security
forces to contain the unprecedented levels
of political killings.
The PNP projected itself as defending the
poor and confronting imperialists and capi-
talists on their behalf. The JLR on the
contrary, painted the PNP as a communist
infiltrated party mismanaging the economy
to create a one-party state by destroying all
sources of opposition. The views that voters
had of the weaknesses and strengths of the
PNP government tell us something about
how these competing party propaganda
efforts shaped public opinion. When voters
were asked about the biggest mistakes the
PNP made since the party was elected in
1976 the dominant view was critical of PNP
economic management performance and
overall ideological direction. Leftist and com-
munist trends were sharply criticized as
were the PNP's class attacks on the private
sector as well as the party's criticisms of the
United States in Manley's various anti-im-
perialist speeches. Twenty-six percent
blamed the PNP for mismanaging the eco-
nomy; 25% were critical of the party's leftist
trend; and 10% blamed the PNP for a poor
performance in the area of national security.
The PNP earned praise for its attempts to
develop low income housing, the national
minimum wage, the national literacy pro-
gram and the more important of the party's
agricultural policies (e.g. Project Land
Lease). In numerical terms the criticisms
weighed heavier than the acknowledgments
of positive achievement Forty-five percent

of the electorate could find nothing positive
to identify in the PNP's performance since
1976 while 74% of the electorate found a
number of policy and political directions by
the PNP over the period that were worthy of
sharp criticisms. Again, the agenda of con-
cerns seemed to favor the JLP Significantly
absent from the policy endorsements of the
PNP was any reference to anti-imperialism,
class struggles or ideological radicalism.
The items of reference which came closest
to endorsing the PNP's ideological line were
support for its independentand non-aligned
foreign policy (5%), equal rights for women
(3%), and support for socialism as an ideo-
logical direction (5%). Eight percent were
critical of the PNP's following of IMF eco-
nomic directions.
In spite of its advantage in the overall
weighting of media propaganda on political
violence more voters saw the PNP as respon-
sible for political violence than those who
blamed theJLP as primarily accountable for
the spate of political murders which tar-
nished the 1980 campaign. The Daily
Gleaner recorded some 514 killings by
gunmen during the calendar year of 1980.
Most of these killings were politically moti-
vated. The newspaper also recorded news
items which documented 152 politically
motivated attacks during the year, including
102 reportedly against the JLP and 50
against the PNP During the election month
of October, 47 such attacks were reported
against the JLP and 28 against the PNR
Thirty-four percent of the electorate blamed
the PNP as the principal agent of political
violencewhile 10% blamed theJLP Another
20% pointed the finger of blame towards
both parties. Two percent blamed the vio-
lence on the communists and 1% blamed
the CIA. In spite of the attempts by both
parties to explain the violence by reference
to outside forces, that point of view did not
generate much support in the wider
The PNP singled out the Daily Gleaner for
a concentrated attack over the 1977 to 1980
period. That campaign was relatively suc-
cessful in the sense that many PNP voters
and supporters came to accept view of the
Gleaner as a newspaper that specialized in
unfair criticism of Manley and the PNP In
the country's capital city, 43% of the elector-
ate felt the Gleaner was fair and trustworthy,
while 39% held to the view that the Gleaner
made unfair criticisms of the PNP and its
leaders. In the other parishes the balance of
opinion was 30% hostilityto the Gleaner and
42% entertaining positive views.
The PNP made many rather trenchant
criticisms of the relative inactivity of the
private sector, particularly during the post-
1977 period when various IMF fiscal policies
failed to rouse the local private sector into an
active force for economic recovery. Al-
though the electorate did not share the
PNP's hardline ideological assault on the


business sector, the Jamaican electorate
had indeed become extremely suspicious
and dubious of the role being played by big
business in the face of the deteriorating
economic situation. Ambivalence and ques-
tion marks surrounded the public's appraisal
of the local business sector. When asked
whether local big business was doing its
best to improve conditions in the country
only 26% of the electorate in the capital
agreed and 39% of the public in other areas
shared that view. On the contrary66% of the
urban electorate in the capital and 50% of
the electorate in other regions thought that
local big business was not doing enough.
The climate of opinion which prevailed
prior to the 1980 election was one in which
neither the private nor the public sectors
enjoyed a great deal of public trust and
confidence within the electorate. This meant
that while socialism did not sustain the
support begun in 1976, capitalism and the
idea of the hegemony of the local private
sector as the new methodology for eco-
nomic management has clearly not estab-
lished general acceptance in the electorate.
This level of ideological ambivalence will
pose great problems for theJLP which may
end up promoting local capitalism as an
alternative to socialism in an environment in
which voters have become sceptical of all
With respect to the more economic
issues, the PNP placed great store by its
anti-IMF stance in the months approaching
the election, hoping that such a political
position might strike a populist chord of
opposition to a visible symbol of imperialism
as defined by the PNP left and the WPJ. The
polls however indicated that more persons
in the electorate were in favor of further IMF
borrowing than those who were opposed,
while a large number of voters were unin-
terested or ignorant of the issue. The IMF
stance of the PNP left was clearly not the vital
issue it was made out to be by the PNP and
WPJ ideologues. Three months after the
JLP came to power in October 1980, the
overall balance of opinion shifted more in
favor of IMF borrowing. A majority sup-
ported IMF borrowing at that stage inspired
by the feeling that unlike the PNP govern-
ment, the JLP would both get better terms
from the IMF as well be in a position to make
better use of funds borrowed.
The electorate was very firm in the view
that government mismanagement by the
PNP was principally responsible for the
shortages being experienced in food and
other basic items. In addition, as much as
75% of the electorate were convinced that
their living standards had worsened overthe
period of one year preceding March 1980.
Given the 40% drop in per capital purchasing
power over the 1976 and 1980 period and
the fact that consumer prices were increas-
ing at a faster rate than the wage bill over the
1976 and 1980 period these views clearly


had a firm basis in the economic realities of
the period. They were held with particular
strength by unionized labor.
In foreign policy the PNP's assumption
that it was following a popular path turned
out to be quite fictional. Fifty-two percent of
the electorate felt that the government
should have recalled the Cuban Ambassa-
dor for insulting behavior toward Jamaica
and Jamaicans and were incensed by the
PNP's open public support for the Cuban.
Fifty-seven percent of the Jamaican elector-
ate expressed the view that Cubans were too

The PNP had begun to
believe its own homespun
propaganda which was
more related to the
fantasies of left-wing
ideologues than to reality.

involved in Jamaican politics in contrast to a
much smaller 34% who felt otherwise. In
sharp contrast to the later months of 1976
when the polls found that only 25% of the
electorate was hostile towards and fearful of
Cubans, the June poll found that as much
as 45% of the electorate shared those fears.
This is in sharp contrast with the com-
parative finding that 13% of the Jamaican
electorate felt that they had something to
fear from the United States. The popular
mood had become increasingly pro-US and
anti-Cuba in a period in which the public was
seeing the symbolic Cuba-PNP ties under-
going a thorough strengthening and inten-
sification. Fear of communism also reached
a peak over the 1976 and 1980 period.
Whereas in 1976, 31% of the electorate
thought Jamaica was heading for com-
munism, that fear was embraced by 43% of
the electorate by mid-1980. In addition 60%
of the Jamaican public strongly endorsed
the sentiment that communism was some-
thing to be feared in Jamaica. In the poll
taken after the PNP defeat in October as
much as 74% of the electorate endorsed the
view that the PNP should disassociate itself
from the communist fringe party, the WPJ.
Two far reaching opinions held in the
immediate period prior to the 1980 election
were the views expressed on Manley's criti-
cisms of the United States and the popular
reaction to US President Carter's troop alert
over the alleged presence of Russian troops
in Cuba. A large majority of 67% of the
electorate comprising JLP supporters, PNP
defectors to the JLP, and independent vo-
ters rejected the view that Manley's criticism
of the US had anyjustification and endorsed
the sentiment that Manley was inclined to
criticize the US without sound basis for so

doing. On the other hand 45% of the
electorate endorsed Carters troop alert,
while 24% of the electorate saw this response
as the panic reaction of US imperialism.
Clearly, the PNP lost touch with public
opinion on these issues and had forgotten
the close family links which tieJamaicans to
the US mainland and the extensive networks
of dependency on food and clothing re-
mittances from the US which keep many
Jamaican families viable households. The
PNP had begun to believe its own home-
spun propaganda which was more related
to the fantasies of left-wing ideologues than
to reality. The JLP had clearly won the
propaganda war on foreign policy in cir-
cumstances where the majority of the elec-
torate came around to sharing theJLP view
that the United States is a potential source of
aid and assistance that ought to be cul-
tivated rather than sacrificed on the alter of
dubious ideological posturing. The PNP
leadership, however, was too engrossed in
its own visions of political reality to under
stand these very simple trends and to act on

Post Election Public Opinion
In clear confirmation of these opinion trends
over the period, the January 1981 poll found
that the close ties of friendship developing
between Prime Minister Seaga and US
President Reagan was supported by as
much as 85% of the Jamaican electorate;
and was viewed as a willing subordination to
imperialism only by 10% of that electorate.
On the question of leadership and elec-
toral endorsement of the two principal party
leaders, two quite different sets of findings
emerged. Seaga was ranked over Manley in
terms of capability to run the government
given the many economic crises and prob-
lems Jamaica faced. Secondly, the polls
found that while Manley retained significant
popularity (32% of the electorate) his rating
as the most outstanding local political figure
had fallen from 1976, and the two JLP
leaders (union boss Shearer and technocrat
Seaga) enjoyed greater mass support as a
team than did the collective PNP and WPJ
leadership (Manley, Munroe, Duncan and
Patterson). In my view, however, both the
foreign policy sentiments and the leader-
ship ratings have to be seen against the
background of the critical underlying eco-
nomic trends which have given them a life
that can be extended or restricted depending
on how adeptly the new JLP government is
able to harness US foreign capital to re-
vitalize the economy.
The January 1981 poll found that the
Jamaican electorate had increased its sup-
port for the JLP and reduced its endorse
ment of the PNP in the three month period
between October 1980 and January 1981.
According to the estimates of party strength
made by this poll the JLP popular support in
the electorate stood at 62% at the end of


January 1981 while PNP popular support
stood at 38% of the electorate. This is in
comparison to the JLPs 59% share of the
popular vote in the 1980 election and the
PNP's share of 41%. The new JLP govern-
ment attracted a 70% endorsement for its
performance in the running of the country
over the October to January period. That
endorsement was heavily influenced by
increases in food supplies, improved finan-
cial and economic management, the re-
duction of crime levels and the restoration
of a climate of confidence in the society.
Only 29% of the electorate endorsed
positively the PNP performance as an op-
position party over the period. Most hostile
opinions felt that the PNP was too inactive,
divided and irresponsible in carrying out its
parliamentary functions. The 1981 local
government elections confirmed these
trends as the result produced JLP victories
in all parishes for the first time in the
country's history of two party politics.
The JLP government faces an enormous
task in tackling the job of economic re-
covery. The process of recovery and its
impact on the vital area of job creation and
employment expansion is going to be the
determining factorin shaping the immediate
political future of the two parties. If the JLP
fails to create substantially more jobs than
any other party in the past has ever at-
tempted, its political ascendancy is going to
be very short lived and the pendulum of ebb
and flow of two party strength will see a
resurgence of PNP mass support within five
years. Whether this goal can be attained will
depend very largely on the total inflow of.
foreign investment which might be gener-
ated by the JLP, US, British and western
capitalist networks of finance capital sup-
In two important respects the 1980 elec-
tion represents a critical point of departure
from earlier elections. It is the first election
for parliament in which one party has won a
majority of the parish vote in all parishes
since the emergence of a dominant JLP-
PNPtwo party pattern in 1959. Secondly, the
level of party defections from PNPto theJLP
was higher than the level of swing in the vote
in any earlier parliamentary election. Two
implications must be read into these trends.
The JLP support base is very fragile and
contains many former PNP voters who may
switch back to the PNP on flimsy grounds.
And the level of loyal party voting has
dropped considerably to a point where
regionalism in parish voting has almost
disappeared. The elections of the future are
going to be characterized by massive swings.
Fully 30% of the 1976 PNP voters swung to
the JLP in 1980. That is more than twice as
large as any earlier swing from a losing to a
winning party in a parliamentary election.
Only 52% of the electorate regard them-
selves as being loyal supporters of the PNP
and JLP, while as much as 27% regard

themselves as being independent voters.
Eight percent regard themselves as very
weak party supporters. The level of loyal
party voting has dropped some 8% between
1972 and 1980. Not surprisingly, all the PNP
toJLPvote defections came from moderate
rather than leftist inclined voters.

A PNP Recovery
On the basis of these trends it would be
most unwise to write off the prospect of a
recovery by the defeated PNP. notwithstand-
ing its small allocation of 9 of the 60

It would be most unwise
to write off the prospect of
a recovery by the defeated

parliamentary seats compared to the JLPs
51 seats. Such a recovery will keep alive the
cyclical pattern of movement in party
strength. The. F'rN' governmentwas a victim
of the world economic recession but its
failure to cope with that pressure was aggra-
vated by political excesses, ideological mis-
takes and a tendency to divorce itself from
the main currents of public opinion. If the
PNP learns some lessons from these errors
they will recover sooner than most analysts
would be inclined to predict given the party's
dismal showing in the 1980 parliamentary
election and the 1981 local govemment
When the Jamaican electorate was asked
in the post-election survey to indicate whe-
ther they thought the 1980 election was fair
and to suggest why they thought so many
persons voted for the JLP the answers were
quite predictable in terms of our earlier
analysis. Eight-one percent thought that the
election was honest and only 14% thought
there were local irregularities in the conduct
of the electoral machinery. This point of
view has severely discredited the wild sug-
gestions from disgruntled PNP activists that
the election was not honest.
With respect to the reasons for the heavy
JLP vote the breakdown of responses was
as follows: (1), Economic hardships, 31%;
(2) Fear of communism, 26%; (3) Time for a
change of government, 19%; (4) PNP mis-
management, 16%; (5) Greater appeal of
Seaga over Manley, 13%. As I have indicated
earlier, the central issues breakdown into
economic performance, ideology and lead-
ership credibility. Given the two party tradi-
tions of Jamaica, the responses suggest
from item three the need to add a fourth
operative factor. This factor has to do with
the electorate's rating of how long a gov-
erning party needs to be in office to achieve
maximum policy results. The perceived
tradition as reflected in item three matches
the actual cyclical pattern whereby two

terms in office gives rise to a sentiment that
it is time for a change. That reality will pose
enormous obstacles against any party
breaking the established two term cycle.
The cycle is well entrenched in the minds of
voters. It assists weak one-term govern-
ments on which the electorate may suspend
judgment because they feel that more time
might be needed for the governing party to
show results. That factor may well delay the
PNP's recovery should there be but limited
social and economic gains registered by the
JLP over the next four to five years. Items
four and five confirm the hegemony of
economic considerations in the voters ap-
praisal of a governing party. In this respect
the agenda of concern which influenced the
vote in the 1976 election was very different
from the one which prevailed in 1980. In
1976 judgment was obviously suspended
on issues where the PNP would have been
found wanting but the electorate was patient
enough to give the party more time. The
JLP made no headway with its economic
attacks on the PNP in 1976 except among
the middle class and the capitalists, while
these same arguments prevailed with great
impact in 1980. We have argued that ob-
jective circumstances changed over the
period. But in addition to that factor it is also
clear that the weight placed on the eco-
nomic considerations by the judgement of
electorate increased considerably between
1976 and 1980.
The relatively high rating of item two
which centers on ideology is, of course, con-
sistent with my earlier analysis although the
data presentation clearly disguises the inter-
connection with the economic issues. Quite
predictably, the leadership factor was seen
by voters as benefitting the JLP. That factor
places an enormous burden of responsibility
on the shoulder's of the new Prime Minister
Seaga who like Manley is going to be
covered with glory or condemnation de-
pending on what concrete benefits the
people perceive his policies and programs
to be generating. The Jamaican electorate
has a "state centered" view of economic
progress in the country. They see the good
times and the bad times as due mainly to
the acts and omissions of those who they
elect to govern. They are slow to come to
conclusions, giving government very broad
degrees of freedom to formulate and de-
velop the policy means to achieve social and
economic progress. But the electorate
makes harsh judgements after that time has
run out and the gains seem neither to be
flowing nor about to expand. The 1980s will
be JLP's turn at the wicket to face this very
harsh electorate anchored in the tradition of
democratic choice like no other English-
speaking Caribbean country.
Carl Stone teaches political sociology at the
University of the West Indies in Mona. He is the
foremost politicalpollster in Jamaica and writes
regularly for the Daily Gleaner.

Continued from page 11

groups. Generally freedom of expression
and the right of opposition groups to dissent
are suppressed in Guyana.

Events on Polling Day
The observer team spent polling day in
various parts of the country (Georgetown,
Kitty, Cummingslodge, Ogle, Plaisance, Bet-
ter Hope, Vryheid's Lust, Mon Repos, Lusig-
nan, Buxton Enmore, New Amsterdam,
Lower and Upper Corentyne, Houston, Lin-
den and Wismar). We reached a unanimous
view on the conduct of the election, which
may be summarized as follows:
We found a relatively high tumout of
voters in some areas such as Corentyne,
Cummingslodge, Better Hope and Enmore,
and a relatively low turnout in others such as
Georgetown, New Amsterdam and Linden.
We collected considerable evidence that
voters in many instances were intimidated
and physically prevented from voting for
opposition parties. The staff of the whole
polling process appeared to be supporters
of the PNC.
We have massive evidence that large
numbers of eligible voters were denied their
right to vote. The following are examples:
deletion of names from the electoral list;
abuse of proxy voting; abuse of postal
voting; people were told that they were dead;
PNC agents outside the polls gave people
slips of paper bearing wrong ID numbers, or
told them their names were not on the list,
although they were; voters were disenfran-
chised because of minor technical or clerical
errors in the list; fraudulent votes had already
been cast in the voters' name; evidence was
supplied to us of double registration. These
abuses were primarily directed against sup-
porters of the opposition parties.
Ballot boxes arrived late at many stations.
In some areas the hours of polling were ar-
bitrarily extended, the processing of votes
was deliberately stalled, polling agents were
not allowed to inspect ballot boxes before
polling started, incapacitated voters were
not always helped and were sometimes in-
structed to vote for the PNC. Persons who
had not voted claimed that they had their
fingers inked forcibly by PNC agents. Con-
versely, PNC supporters whose fingers were
inked were allowed to vote and some PNC
supporters did not have their fingers inked
after voting. There were also complaints that
the Presiding Officers had written voters'
numbers on the ballot papers. Unlisted PNC
supporters were allowed to vote, but in PPP
areas Retuming Officers invariably refused
to exercise their discretion in favor of un-
listed persons voting.

In some areas there were many polling
stations adjacent to, or very near, PNC
offices. Some polling stations were in the
private residences of PNC activists and can-
didates. Some were in police stations, one at
least with an armed guard on a locked gate.
The military presence in some areas was
intimidating. The boxes were collected by
military personnel who prevented accredited
officials of the opposition, sometimes by
force or the threat of force, from accom-
panying or following the boxes. Military per-
sonnel refused accredited representatives
of opposition parties access to the count at
gunpoint in some cases. The forcible ex-
pulsion of the opposition's agents from all
the places where ballot boxes were held, and
the delay of at least fifteen hours in the
announcing of first returns of the count un-
dermines the credibility of this process.
We came to Guyana aware of the serious
doubts expressed about the conduct of pre-
vious elections there, but determined to
judge these elections on their own merit and
hoping that we should be able to say that the
result was fair. We deeply regret that, on the
contrary, we were obliged to conclude, on
the basis of abundant and clear evidence,
that the election was rigged massively and
flagrantly. Fortunately, however, the scale of
the fraud made it impossible to conceal
either from the Guyanese public or the out-
side world. Far from legitimizing President
Burnham's assumption of his office, the
events we witnessed confirm all the fears of
Guyanese and foreign observers about the
state of democracy in that country.
Lady Guymine, a famous local calypso
artist, sang at the time: "The elections in
Guyana will be something to remember."
Sadly, they were, as an example of the way
an individual's determination to cling to
power at all costs can poison the springs of

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Continued from page 13

Table 1
Do you think Dr. Williams should resign as

Prime Minister

No opinion

to make room for a



Table 2
If the Prime Minister did in fact resign, whom
would you like to see become the next
Prime Minister of Trinidad and Tobago?

ANR Robinson
John Donaldson
Kamal Mohammed
Basdeo Panday
Errol Mahabir
Lloyd Best
Geddes Granger
Other/no one
Don't know



Table 4
If an election were to be held in Trinidad &
Tobago in the next two months, which
party would you vote for?

No Party
Don't know/other


It is possible that support for the PNM
could drop even further since Dr. Williams is
now dead and not merely retired. As a
retired Prime Minister, he might have been
willing to give his endorsement to and per-
haps even provide campaign support for
the party's choice as successor. Some of his
"charisma" might in this way have been
transferred and party stalwarts might have
felt obliged to remain loyal to whomever he
might have laid hands upon. His sudden
and dramatic exit has aborted this scenario.
There is however a real possibility that Dr.
Williams could do as much for the PNM in
death as he could have were he still alive.
The party and the new Prime Minister could
benefit from the enormous groundswell of
sympathy and affection which Dr. Williams'
death has evoked in the public mind. Dr.
Williams' charisma could in fact become
institutionalized in the party itself in the
same way in which the charisma of Christ
has become institutionalized in the Catholic
Church allowing any successor, no matter
how small in stature, to partake of that
What happens in the coming election will
of course depend on many other things. It
will depend on whether the PNM unites
behind the interim prime minister and con-
firms him as a political leader, or whether
there is a power struggle in the party. It is
unlikely that there will in fact be any power
struggle, since in the public mind, many
would be successors have eliminated them-
selves. The outcome will also depend on the
extent to which the new prime minister, who
has a reputation for probity and hard work
succeeds in cleansing the Augean stables of
the party. If he tries and succeeds in purging
the party of those who are regarded by the
electorate as liabilities, it is possible that
many apostates and deviants would return
to the PNM church. A move of this sort
would help to build his image and convince
the skeptics that the PNM is being returned
to the tradition which Dr. Williams had
defined for it in 1955-6. The question is
whether Mr. Chambers will feel sufficiently
strong politicallyto undertake this orwhether
he and his supporters would feel that such a
strategy might be counter-productive espe-
cially since it might also involve the demysti-
fication and desanctification of Eric Will-

iams. What is historically necessary might
not be politically possible.
One of the problems facing the new
Prime Minister is that he and the Party do not
have much time to select and build a win-
ning political combination. Elections must
be held before the end of the year, and the
agenda is very crowded. A wide assortment
of groups are intensely dissatisfied with their
lot and are demanding instant redress of
grievances. These include doctors, nurses,
bus workers, sugar workers and workers at
Federation Chemicals who are demanding
that the foreign-owned company be nation-
alized before they retum to work The dem-
onstrations which these groups had mount-
ed in various parts of the country and
around the Parliament itself in the weeks
before the death of the Prime Minister and
which in one case forced him to sneak out
the back door and into a hastily provided
ambulance, are likely to continue once the
period of mouming comes to a close as
groups seek to press home the advantage
which they know they have in an election
year. Chambers' honeymoon period is likely
to be short. It will also take time for some of
the massive public works projects which are
now underway to come fully on stream and
propitiate those who have been demanding
regular supplies of water, proper roads and
an improvement in the performance of the
other utilities.

A Party of Parties
So far nothing has been said about the other
political parties in the political race. Three of
the established political parties-the ULF,
the DAC and Tapia-have recently entered
into a "party of parties" alliance. The ar-
rangement is that the parties in this National
Alliance would retain their organizational
identities but support each other electorally.
There is also an agreement that each would
not field candidates in areas which others in
the alliance are deemed to have a good
chance in winning. This would mean that
the DAC alone would face the PNM in
Tobago, the LILF in the 12 or 14 seats which
that party either won in 1976 or in which it
performed well and Tapia in the remainder.
The problem here is that Tapia does not
have any grass roots support and is unlikely
to gain much between now and the date of

Table 3

Support for Candidates

Hudson-Phillips Donaldson Robinson Best Granger Panday Mahabir Mohammed Other Don't Know
Afr./mixed 35% 8% 5% 3% 3% 2% 0% 1% 10% 33%
Indian 31% 2% 7% 1% 1% 8% 2% 8% 6% 34%
Others 29% 0% 10% 3% 0% 3% 0% 0% 7% 48%


Table 5
Support For Party If Election Held in Two Months.

Race PNM ONR ULF Tapia DAC NJAC None Other/Don't Know Total
African 32% 34% 2% 1% 1% 3% 12% 15% 100%
Indian 26% 23% 16% 0% 4% 1% 16% 14% 100%
Other 10% 19% 3% 7% 7% 0% 42% 12% 100%/
Male 24% 32% 100/ 1% 2% 3% 12% 16% 100%
Female 32% 25% 6% 1% 4% 1% 18% 13% 100%

the election. The party obtained a mere 3.8% the way so that Trinidad and Tobago can but a choice of prime minister.
of the popular vote in 1976 and the results of advance." The ONR for its part has sensed this fact
poll cited above suggests that it is unlikely to Only time will tell whether Best is correct and has so far not agreed to participate in
improve its performance. Only 2% said they The odds seem to be against the possibility any coalition. It has instead called upon all
would vote for Tapia if the PNM was not led that the ULF/DAC/Tapia alliance would the other political parties "to clear the coast
by Dr. Williams. Tapia leader Lloyd Best form the new government. While it is true and let there be a straight fight between the
however believes that the formulation of the that many-48% according to the poll-are enemy and the ONR." The party's organiza-
Alliance would change the arithmetic of the of the viewthat a union of opposition parties tion secretary, a former confidante of Dr.
problem. The Alliance would represent a is a desirable goal, and a majority-51%- Williams, insists that only the ONR had the
qualitatively different formation which would believes that such a union could defeat the "political artilleryto destroythe enemy." The
be greater than the sum of its constituent PNM, for many this assumed that the ONR other opposition parties will definitely not
parts. As he observed; "the party of parties was part of that alliance. Moreover, it is evi- heed this request, and a distinct possibility
represents the first real breakaway from the dent that the Alliance would be unaccepta- exists that there will be many three covered
old one-man party, something which will ble to some voters. In fact, 36% of those contests between the PNM, the ONR and
embrace all the elements and the tribes in a sampled said such an alliance was undesir- the National Alliance, and that as a result the
fundamental way. This coalition party...has able. Tapia's agreement to work with parties PNM may not only hold onto some of its
been organized to give permanent manifes- which its leaders had vehemently criticized traditional seats, but win several in areas
station to the hope for change which the in the past is seen as rank opportunism, which are now controlled by the ULF. Given
people all over the country see today. The even though Tapia had in fact indicated in all the imponderables in the situation, it is
Alliance can make manifest that demand 1975 that it was interested in a "Janata" type difficult to predict the end result with any
for change and will form the next Govem- united front alliance of all the opposition confidence. The situation is extremely fluid
ment of Trinidad and Tobago." Following parties against the PNM. Many blacks how- and only time will tell just what the outcome
Dr. Williams' death, Best expressed the view ever do not supportthe notion of an alliance of the struggle for political succession would
that the Prime Minister had chosen to make which had the ULF as one of its constituent be.
his exit at precisely the moment when it was units because of their assumption that that
clear to all the citizens that the political party would be the dominant group in any SelwynRyan heads theDepartmentof Govern-
methods of the fifties and sixties could no such alliance and would in the end assume ment, UWI, St. Augustine. He is the author of
longer guide the country in the eighties and the parliamentary leadership. For them the Race and Nationalism in Trinidad and Tobago
nineties. "Dr. Williams in the end has cleared issue is not merely a choice of government, (U. of Toronto Press).



to satisfy the need for regular ONE
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Lea tambien en
OPINIONES de octubre:
Reveladora entrevista al
ex-vicepresidente Francisco
VillagrAn Kramer sobre el future
de Guatemala La international
del terrorism por Jacobo
Timerman La conexi6n boliviana
por Vivian Trias El autoexilio
intellectual de Alfredo Bryce El
desprestigio de la dialkctica por
Ludovico Silva Indoambrica y
la integraci6n por Otto Morales
Benitez El tab6 de la campaia
electoral de EE.UU. por Ted
C6rdova-Claure y much mis.

SI, envieme
un ejemplar

de octubre 1980,
Recorte y envie este cup6n por
correo. Enseguida recibird el
nimero de octubre gratis. Si le
gusta y quiere seguir recibiendo
OPINIONES todos los meses
durante un afo, puede luego
pagar su suscripci6n (US $24.00)
en su propia moneda national.

r - - ----------- ------------I
Sl, envieme un exemplar de OPINIONES
de octubre, 1980. GRATIS.


Ciudad Pais
/NI D1 INI C 2355 Salzedo Street, No. 203
tI \rlu\N\| Coral Gables, FL U.S.A. 33134
L --------------------- -------


Continued from page 19

ostensibly to conceal government strategy
from the guerrillas. The news blackout,
however, made apparent what a subse-
quent radio broadcast by a beleaguered
government, monitored bythe British Broad-
casting Company and reported in the US
later spelled out: the government had be-
come unstable and foreigners contemplat-
ing visits to Dominica should not go. More-
over, the crisis interrupted the vital banana
export trade from Roseau, relegating it only
to Portsmouth, which is remote from many,
if not most, growers.
To avert further disaster, the government
also curtailed carnival celebrations in March,
and has carried out mass arrests of individ-
uals ostensibly visiting Dominica for Carni-
val, particularly from the neighboring French
island of Guadeloupe. Such individuals are
feared to be suppliers of weapons to guerril-
las in exchange for drugs grown in the
mountains. While the guerrillas have been
gaining strength the government has been
losing strength. Ms. Charles, unable to trust
the 100-man Dominica Defense Force, has
confiscated its weapons "for inventory," and
demoblized two-thirds of the force. The
weapons inventory revealed many missing,
which are feared to be in the hands of the
guerrillas. Defended now only by a handful
of police, it is significant to inquire why the
present circumstances have not toppled the
In fact, a coup d'etat, planned largely in
Guadeloupe and scheduled to take place
March 14, was unveiled and thwarted. Ex-
prime minister Patrick John, allegedly with
assistance from Texas millionaire, Michael
Eugene Perdue, has been accused in the
conspiracy. The international scope of the
coup attempt has broadened. On May 2 the
Miami Herald reported the confession to
Roseau police of Canadian citizen Miriam
McGuire and the arrests in New Orleans of
ten men including Canadians Wolfgang
Walter Droege and Larry Lloyd Jacklin.
McGuire confessed she was sent to Domin-
ica by Droege and Jacklin to assist in plan-
ning the coup. The coup was to involve
mercenaires possibly associated with the
Klu Klux Klan in Louisiana. Ms. Charles, in a
recorded interview, stated that Perdue, the
alleged leader of the mercenaires, was
among the ten men arrested in NewOrleans,
and the Miami Herald confirmed that Perdue
is in jail. Dominican government spokes-
man Lennox Honeychurch speculated that
the coup was financed by American busi-
nessmen to establish a free port in Domin-
ica. Mr. John has been jailed with about a
half dozen alleged co-conspirators, and the

government has set up a tribunal to deal
with the matter.
The Dominican govemment's uncanny
investigative ability in uncovering the planned
coup may have had everything to do with
the CIA. I was assured by a domestic contact
in the CIA-on the basis of a report he had
received from the island nation "one hour
ago" that Dominica was being defended by
a "western European nation or nations."
It is known that Ms. Charles has requested
assistance of France and Britain. Engineers
from these nations are assisting with hurri-
cane reconstruction, such as electricity pro-
jects and rebuilding the barracks of the

Dominica Defense Force. It is rumored that
British and French army personnel, too,
have arrived, and that Ms. Charles has
requested the government of Barbados to
deploy a contingent of its Defense Force,
rumors which Ms. Charles publicly denies.
Meanwhile, despite all measures, the home
of ex-prime minister Oliver Seraphin was
recently burned, and the hostage crisis per-
sists, as does the pro-West Freedom Party

Robert Alan Michaels, a biologist with Enviro
Control of Rockville, Maryland, is interested in
the development of colonial island nations.

Kudos 1981

Our special issue of Caribbean Review
dedicated to "The New Cuban Presence in
the Caribbean" was a finalist in the Special-
topic issue category of the National Magazine
Awards. The National Magazine Awards are
presented by the American Society of Maga-
zine Editors, through a grant from the Maga-
zine Publishers Association, and are adminis-
tered by the Columbia University Graduate
School of Journalism. At the award ceremony
in New York, we were cited for our Winter
1980 issue: "A round-up not only of Cuban
involvement, but U.S. involvement as well, the
issue articulated a political card game of
scary proportions being played in what was
once known as an American lake." First prize
in that category was awarded to Business
Week for its issue on the reindustrialization of
America. Among the other finalists was
Scientific American for its issue on eco-
nomic development.
And in the specialized magazine category
of the 1981 CASE awards Caribbean
Review was presented with an "Exceptional
Achievement" award, the highest available.
This is the third consecutive year Caribbean
Review has been honored by the Council for
the Advancement and Support of Education.

Continued from page 27

tions former Prime Minister Arron, who had
been in detention since late 1980, was
released from jail. Deliberations followed
between the military high command and
the former leadership of Arron's old Creole
party and that of the East Indian block The
move seemed to suggest that the military
was seeking mass support and that it was
only the two old parties through their ma-
chine organization, who could deliver it. The
old guard demurred from making a com-
mitment that, observers claim, would link
them to the coup or force them to declare
their position.

Pandora's Box and
Counter-Coup Three
On March 6 the military command made a
tactical move to the left and released from
jail Sergeants Sital, Mijnals and a compa-
triot-those who were involved in the alleged
"left coup" of August. Public respect for law
fell to a new low. On his release, the excited
Mijnals announced that the socialist re-
volution would advance without compro-
mise, violently if need be. Another wave of
insecurity swept Paramaribo and spectres of
violence and radical politics panicked many.
One highly placed official, disappointed
with the outburst, claimed, "The careful
work of Chin A Sen over the past year
[drumming up support for his 'Govern-
ment's Declaration' was destroyed by that
one outburst"
The three released NCOs were returned
to their positions in the army. Newspaper
photographs showed them in comradely
palaver with their ex-jailors. Press confer-
ences were quickly organized and Major
Bouterse tried to calm the citizenry. "The
matter is in hand and it is business as usual."
This was not comforting news. Highly placed
observers involved in the administration of
justice explained that the release was for
tactical reasons only. With growing dissen-
tion among groups impatient with the time
table of the revolution and opposed to the
course of events, the release of Sital and
Mijnals was a sop less they become martyrs.
In the space of one month the military
high command had released Arron, personi-
fication of the old guard and its politics; and
renewed its contract with Sital and Mijnals,
military vanguards of the "radical" left re-
volution. The civilian govemment seemed
to be holding firm in support of President
Chin A Sen's Government Declaration of
May 1980. Like the military, they too agree
that the old patronage structure which
flourished under parliamentary democracy
was unacceptable.

The military-civilian center had its dancing
partners strung out far to the left and right. In
the grossest of terms the conservatives
included the police, still smarting from the
embarrassment of the coup; large labor
unions tied to the civil service and big
business; religious organizations; the busi-
ness and commercial community; and the
remnants of the old ethnic-based political
parties. The "far left" numbered the released
sergeants and their followers among certain
groups in the military, a radical spin off of a
former leftist party, and supporters in one
large labor union. The public, growing in-

They held doggedly to the
belief that all problems can
be overcome if the right
orders are given.

creasingly outspoken, aligned publicly with
no one.
Suriname's third alleged counter-coup oc-
curred in mid-March 1981 and ended in the
death of one soldier and the serious wound-
ing of another. The accused organizer was a
sergeant and a member of the original coup
commando unit. Counter-coup three was
denounced by the military leadership as
"rightest." Fleshing out the spare details
offered in the censored press, the rumor mill
drew its own conclusions. "The leader was
self-seeking and wanted to sieze power for
himself." "He was supported by the local
business community." "It was an attempt by
the Chinese merchant community...." One
explanation proposed that it was not a
counter-coup at all. Rather, the alleged leader
of the alleged coup was trafficking in nar-
cotics, did not pay his bills on time, and was
killed by angry dope merchants. The press
did not provide clarification. Disbarred from
jounalistic investigation, they fed the public
what they were fed.
It is as difficult now as it has been over the
past year to identify "who is in control."
Power has fragmented within and between
the military and civilian govemments. The
situation in April 1981 was tense as the
military realized that its position had been
weakened. Mused one official, "We are on
the brink of a power vacuum, and if those
boys [the army] are pushed too far they may
come out shooting."
The public is cautious and watching like
"cats looking from the trees." Military lead-
ership seems to have underestimated the
talent and flexibility of its countrymen and
women. Surinamers are hard to fool and
behind their friendliness, generosity, and
good manners there is a solid sense of
discipline and a strong sense of what is
"fair." Strangely enough it was the new

military, all young and many from the
working and lower classes, who miscalcu-
lated the values of the bulk of the population.
"They don't respect people," decried a
middle age woman. The ultimate Suri-
namese denunciation. Another person, a
hardline supporter of an old political party,
said "Look, they have done some good
things; people go to work on time; I can
always find a civil servant at his desk; welfare
payments come on time now and corruption
is under control. So why don't they go back
to the barracks now?"
Patience with the situation has been all
but lost by everyone regardless of their
position. Many have suggested that a greater
freedom of public criticism would have lead
to more restraint bythe military with respect
to the very excesses that drove the public
away from them. By muzzling the press, the
soldiers did no more than assure that the
public would distrust them.

What Next?
Suriname is a small scale society. Nearly 70
percent of the population lives in and around
densely packed Paramaribo. "If the day
comes, will the soldiers shoot?" one can
legitimately ask. A usual reply is "Do you
think one will shoot the other's uncle or
brother?" Most people realize the damage
that would be done to the fabric of Suri-
namese society if there was even a short
burst of violence and bloodshed. Since the
1980 coup less than ten people have lost
their lives; there have been no official exe-
cutions. Civil war is widely dismissed as
impossible. Nevertheless, serious problems
remain. A constitutional govemment was
overthrown. Admittedly, the political system
was held together with patronage, cro-
nyism, and a "buddy system" (vriendjes
politiek) designed to redistribute wealth and
prestige up and down the hierarchy and
across networks of alliances. However, the
old regime provided the citizenry with a
framework of law and guarantees.
There is a "state of emergency" in Suri-
name. Although there are no exact re-
strictions on mass media the country's
strong tradition of an uncensored press has
suffered. Various military and, later, civilian
authorities have taken it upon themselves to
instruct editors not to publish anything
concerning the government without first
checking with them. The mandate is as
vague as it is all encompassing. Foreign
journalists have been intimidated, jailed, and
forced to leave the country. Suriname edi-
tors have been arrested, detained, and, on
several occasions, beaten.
By mid-1980 well documented cases of
arbitrary arrest; indefinite detention; denial
of due process; and instances of serious
mistreatment, sometimes involving torture
and permanent physical damage, were re-
ported. A pattern is hard to establish; some
cases involve persons thought guilty of

ordinary crimes, individuals involved in the
three alleged counter-coups, and politicians
accused of corruption. Some cases were
simply the personal vendettas of individual
The most controversial decree, and the
one that drew the most adverse international
attention called for the creation of a "Special
Tribunal" to deal with the allegedly corrupt
practices of the pre-coup government. Justi-
fication was that such offenses were not
covered adequately by conventional crimi-
nal law. However, the definitions of the
offenses are objectionable on the grounds
of their vagueness and retroactivity. For
example, the decree which established the
Tribunal also defines corruption as behavior
or activitywhich violates "generally accepted
ethical and moral norms of society, whether
or not made punishable in the Criminal
Code or any other law" (Decreet B-9).
Punishments provided tend to be different
from and more serious than those allowed
by ordinary law. Procedural matters, such as
organizing council, were made difficult for
the defense; while unlimited detention ex-

tensions ("...in the interests of public or-
der...") could be ordered by the prosecutor.
However, there is a tendency in recent
developments, especially among those ci-
vilians concerned with the administration of
justice, to reestablish rule by law and fair
treatment. Most say this feeling always was
present but that in 1980 the civilians were at
too much of a disadvantage to do anything.
Gross abuses are slowly becoming a matter
of the past These positive short term gains
are important, although well informed ob-
servers caution that in spite of an improving
situation, they are concerned with the ab-
sence of legal or other guarantees to secure
their victories and guard against future
"Suriname is not El Salvador" stated a
current cabinet minister and indeed it is not
There is no gunfire on the streets nor civil
war in the countryside. Death squads do not
carry off and assassinate opposition fac-
tions. In many ways the ideological battle-
lines have not yet chrystalized in Suriname
and one can never be too sure who is
fighting who. Nevertheless, there is the

widespread fear that the Uzi may be the one
abiding symbol that characterizes this trou-
bled era. A short lived stage play in Para-
maribo posed the question that once you
have Ba' (zi (Brother Uzi) can you ever get
rid of him?
Suriname suffers from a paralysis of
leadership. The sergeants have grabbed a
tiger by the tail and are hanging on for dear
life. The position of the civilian government
is at best precarious. Public uncertainty has
not been diminished by the reports of three
counter-coups. Surinamers have seen bad
times before and it has not lessened their
patriotism. They realize that there will be no
easy answers this time either.

Gary Brana-Shute teaches anthropology at
Florida International University. His co-edited
book Crime and Punishment in the Caribbean
has recently been published by University of
Florida Presses. He is also the author of On The
Corner: Male Social Life in a Paramaribo Creole
Neighborhood published by van Gorcum of the

PAPA Gives Birth

Under the auspices of the
Department of Cultural Affairs of
the Organization of American
States, the first meeting of editors
of periodicals dedicated to Latin
America and the Caribbean was
held in October at the OAS
Headquarters in Washington. As
a result of the meeting an organi-
zation provisionally named the
Panamerican Periodical Associa-
tion (PAPA) was formed.
The goals of PAPA are twofold:
On the one hand, there are the
general ends of creating mutual
understanding among the Ameri-
cas; articulating the culture and
ideals of Latin America and the
Caribbean; promoting intellectual
and scholarly research about and
for the Americas; advocating
freedom of expression in the
articulation and publication of
ideas about the area; and, devel-
oping the institutional and finan-

cial support for the articulation,
development, and publication of
such ideas.
On the other hand, there are
specific goals of furthering the
ends of each of the member publi-
cations; fostering editorial excel-
lence in the dissemination of their
ideas; improving the develop-
ment, readability, and placement
of editorial manuscripts and
materials; bettering the design
and presentation of these mate-
rials; facilitating their technical
reproduction; locating, soliciting,
and developing proper publics
for them; promoting knowledge
of their availability; serving these
ends by establishing such mech-
anisms as an editorial clearing
house; cooperative relationships
concerning mailing, distribution,
and indexing; syndication ser-
vices, etc.

Officers of the organization for
the first year of activity are: Barry
B. Levine, editor of the Caribbean
Review, president; Dolores
Moyano Martin, editor of the
Handbook of Latin American
Studies, and Saul Sosnowsky,
editor of Hispamerica, vice-
presidents; Celso Rodriguez,
assistant editor of the Inter-
American Review of Biblio-
graphy, secretary-treasurer.
Alfredo A. Roggiano, editor of
Revista Ibero-americana, and
John P. Harrison, editor of the
Journal of Inter-American Stud-
ies and World Affairs, advisors.
Further information may be
obtained by writing Barry B.
Levine, Caribbean Review, Flor-
ida International University,
Miami, FL 33199.



La Fortaleza
Continued from page 35

tion to the Arts Administration bill and the
fact that he was publicly condemned. There
is available for public perusal a signed pub-
lic letter, "We Were Deceived," which clearly
illustrates that Puerto Rico's leading cultural
figures are opposed to this legislation for
which Campos-Parsi lobbied so strenuously.
He invokes the name of the prestigious
musical family, the Figueroas, as support-
ing the bill. This is false. In "We Were
Deceived," both Narciso Figueroa, the pian-
ist-composer and violist Guillermo Figueroa
clearly state that they did not give their sup-
port to the Arts Administration bill, though
Campos-Parsi tried to make it appear so.
Other public documents show how the
composer (Campos-Parsi) has been pub-
licly excoriated by his colleagues in the art
world. As for his claims that the French
consulate knew nothing about their gov-
ernment's participation in our Second Bien-
nial of Contemporary Music, one can only
say that my colleague is a deficient research-
er. The Vice-Consul and his aide personally
formed a reception committee for the I'Itine-
raire New Music ensemble which was sent
to our musical event by the French govem-
ment at a cost of $15,000.00 to cover their
air fares.
Regarding Campos-Parsi's negativism on
the Second Biennial, we can only state that
Puerto Rico's leading music critics as well

University Microfilms


300 North Zeeb Road
Dept. PR.
Ann Arbor, Mi. 48106

30-32 Mortimer Street
Dept. P.R.
London WIN 7RA

as internationally prominent composers
praised the quality of our event The distin-
guished musicologist, Dr. Donald Thomp-
son, stated from his critic's post at the San
Juan Star that the second Biennial had
...so many concerts of such high quality.., it
has put Puerto Rico back on the musical
track" (9/21/80).
Pulitzer prize winner Jacob Druckman,
Panama's Roque Cordero, Manuel Enriquez
of Mexico, and the University of Virginia's
Walter Ross were some of the composers
that publicly extolled the excellence of the
festival which presented over 100 twentieth
century works performed by artists from
Puerto Rico, the United States, Mexico,
France, Poland, England, Venezuela, Argen-
tina, and Uruguay. Thirty eight Puerto Rican
performers participated in the 17 concert
series and there were 13 world premieres
including 6 Puerto Rican compositions. Luis
Alvarez's sour grapes article is resplendent
in distortions and incorrect information and
Campos-Parsi irresponsibly offers it as
"proof" of the Biennial's quality. How sad it
is to witness Hector Campos-Parsi indulging
in petty, politically motivated jousting when
he should be creating works commensu-
rate with his talent

EneidRouttb G6mez is Womens Editorof The San
Juan Star and president of the Overseas Press
Club of Puerto Rico. Composer Francis Schwartz
teaches music at the University of Puerto Rico Past
chairman of the Music Department he was head
music critic of the San Juan Star.

Volume 10 UB
January & July 1980 N



Cuban-Soviet Relations and
Cuban Policy in Africa
Cuba's Involvement in the
Horn of Africa
Limitations and Consequences
of Cuban Policies in
Economic Aspects of
Cuban Involvement in

Published by the Center for Latin American Studies. University Center for
International Studies, University of Pittsburgh. Annual subscription rates are $8 for
individuals and $16 for institutions. Address inquiries to: Center for Latin American
Studies, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15260, USA.


from FIU's Inteational Affairs Center

SDr. Oktay Ural, Dr. Iraj Majzub, and Dr.
Alberto Morales are representing FIU at the
technical planning committee for the World
Congress on Urban Planning, soon to be
convened by the Government of Mexico.
While in Mexico, Dr Majzub and Dr. Ural will
also present a professional seminar on hous-
ing for the Federal District of Mexico
The recommendations which resulted
from the OAS-Sponsored Symposium, Inter-
American University Cooperation for Eco-
nomic and Social Development, will be sub-
mitted to referendum at a general assembly to
be held in Washington D.C. University repre-
sentatives and scholars from North, South,
and Central America and the Caribbean will
be asked to review the Symposium Proceed-
ings and recommendations and vote on the
formation of a new organization for inter-
american university cooperation. A copy of
the Symposium Proceedings will be available
from the IAC in late May and will serve as a
basis for the actions of the General Assembly
in late October or early November of 1981. All
universities of the hemisphere are invited to
In June, twelve participants in the FIU-
College of the Bahamas Bachelors Degree
Program will graduate in the areas of Archi-
tectural Technology and Industrial Technol-
ogy The three-year program is under the
direction of Dr Jack Clark.
international Affairs Center/
Florida Interational University
Tmiami Drail, Miami, Florida 33199,
ph: (305) 552-2846


Continued from page 37

novels get worse. Once upon a time his
novels were slap on target, as was A House
for Mr. Biswas, but as they fly higher so
accordingly does their aim waver. I found A
Bend in the River unfocussed, diffuse, and
hard to get through. The "brilliance" here
and in Guerrillas is undeniable. There are
episodes that catch in one's memory like
burrs. For example, Nazruddin's report on
London in the later novel and Adela's Sun-
day ("on Sundays she was not to be spoken
to") in A Bend in the Riven But placing these
brilliant moments with Naipaul's character-
istic method-allusive, mercurial, cutting
corners-makes for a muddling of the
issues and at worse for a gesturing towards,
rather than a presentation of, complex reali-
ties. One's judgement on manner must ulti-
mately involve a judgement on moral vision
as well. "This was a placethat had produced
no great men, and its possibilities were now
exhausted," he writes in Guerrilas. Such
comments often seem to mime a positive
appetite for decline and decay, the gusto of
a carrion crow or Trinidad "corbeau," pick-
ing over rotten meat. Perhaps this appetite
and this gusto account for much of Nai-
paul's popularity, particularly among guilt-
ridden Westem intellectuals, but it cannot be
emphasized too much that these are quali-
ties which make it unmistakable that Nai-
paul is not, "our Conrad," a writer whose
novels and stories are ultimately affirmative
and life-enhancing.
Novelist and Journalist
The formula I am aiming for involves a dis-
tinction between Naipaul as novelist and

Naipaul as journalist, and concedes his
genius for the second activity but only his
talent for the first In other words Naipaul
may well be our Defoe, but he is by no means
our Conrad. His gifts are essentially those of
the reporter-a quick-silver intelligence, a
wonderful 'eye for the significant detail, and
an ironic detachment (not incompatible
with saeva indignatio) which is no doubt
related to his curious combination of back-
grounds: Trinidad (by birth), India (by de-
scent), and Oxford (by education and man-
ner). Such gifts qualify him uniquely as our
ace cultural troubleshooter, the man who
shuttles between first and third worlds and
between ex-colonizers and ex-colonized, to
bring back reports of the continuing rela-
tionship between these estranged partners
still locked in symbiotic embrace long after
the official divorce has been settled out of
court Naipaul's books are in a sense prog-
ress reports on the unavailing efforts of Cal-
iban to throw off Prospero's spell. But there
is less of the sustained meditation that
marks Conrad's dealings with man adrift in
the sea of history. In my opinion people who
compare Conrad to Naipaul are not so
much over-rating Naipaul as under-rating
Conrad. They forget the depth and reach of
the great Pole's work and the glimpses it
offers of a pit which lies near all men's feet,
whether their names be Kurtz, Malik, or
John Doe.
Once we have put the "Guerrillas is our
Heart of Darkness" business to bed and
ceased trying to set Naipaul in Conrad's
class as a creative writer, then we may find
ourselves in a position to appreciate the true
affinities between the two men. For one
thing they both have the exemplary courage
of exiles who have had to shed one country
without ever acclimatizing to another, and
for another they have a profound theme in

common which is the direct result of that
rootlessness, what Naipaul calls "a vision of
the world's half-made societies as places
which continuously made and unmade
themselves, where there was no goal, and
where always [quoting Conrad] "something
inherent in the necessities of successful
action...carried with it the moral degradation
of the idea." Finally they are both distin-
guished witnesses in this century to a truth
that all of us sometimes, and the simpler-
minded radicals always, conspire to for-
get-that the crust of civilized life is thin,
easily damaged, and hard to mend. And in
their best work, in memorable images of
confusion or violence, they remind us of the
painful consequences of that forgetfulness.

Gerald Guinness teaches English at the Univer-
sity of Puerto Rico, Rio Piedras.

Florida International University
Tamiami Trail, Miami, Florida 33199

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Recent Books

An informative listing of books about the Caribbean,
Latin America, and their emigrant groups

By Marian Goslinga

Anthropology and Sociology
POPAYAN, 1832-1852. Jorge Castellanos.
Universidad del Valle (Cali, Colombia),
1980. 132 p. $10.00.

JAMAICA, 1792-1865. Gad J. Heuman.
Greenwood Press, 1981. 240 p. $29.95.

WOMAN. Alfredo Miranda, Evangelina
Enriquez. University of Chicago Press, 1981.
284 p. $6.95.

R. Rosaldo, R.A. Calvert. Rev. ed. Krieger
(Huntington, N.Y), 1981. 478 p.

NUNCA VOLVIERON. Gonzalo Guillen
Jimenez. Editora Pluma (Bogota,
Colombia), 1980.410 p. $22.00.

PATRIMONY S. Jeffrey K. Wilkerson, ed.
Center for Latin American Studies,
University of Florida, 1980. 445. p.
Proceedings of the 28th annual Latin
American Conference held Oct. 15-20,1978
at the University of Florida.

PERSPECTIVE. Noel L. Erskine. Orbis
Books, 1981. 160 p. $6.95.

EL PASO, 1880-1920. Mario T Gracia. Yale
University Press, 1981. 328 p. $23.00.

James A. Davis. Century Twenty One
(Saratoga, Calif.), 1981.140 p. $11.50.
Based on thesis, Miami University, Oxford,
Ohio (1977).

Courlander. University of California Press,
1981. 436 p. $25.00. Reprint of the 1973 ed.


THE CARIBBEAN. Charles J. Wooding.
University Press of America, 1981. 343 p.
$21.75; $12.00 paper.

RETORNO. Ramiro Cardona Gutierrez, ed.
Ediciones Tercer Mundo (Bogota,
Colombia), 1980. 340 p. $25.00

FREEDOM FUGHTS. Lorrin Philipson, Rafael
Llerena. Random House, 1981. 250 p.
$11.95. About the Cuban refugees.

Carballo. Editorial Porvenir (San Jose,
Costa Rica), 1980. 237 p. $10.00.

Rumazo Gonzalez. Centauro (Caracas,
Venezuela), 1980. 392 p. $29.00.

Sierra. Ediciones de la Muralla (Mexico),
1980. 113 p. 100.00 pesos.

Julio Guberek. Editorial Colombia Nueva
(Bogota), 1980. 170 p. $9.00.

Butterworth, John K. Chance. Cambridge
University Press, 1981. 243 p. $28.95; $8.95

DE UNA POLEMICA. Lily Litvak Puvill
(Barcelona, Spain), 1980. 109 p. 1,000 ptas.

Gandasegui, et al. Centro de Estudios
Latinoamericanos (Panama), 1980. 216 p.

Vladimir de la Cruz. Editorial Universitaria
de Costa Rica, 1980. 304 p. $12.50.

EN PALENQUE. Nina S. de Friedemann,
Richard Cross. C. Valencia Editores
(Bogota, Colombia), 1980. 230 p. 1,250
pesos. Study of a maroon community on
Colombia's Atlantic coast.

Rodriguez Vega. Editorial Costa Rica (San
Jose, C.R.), 1980. 190 p. $12.50.

IGLESIA. Humberto Serna Gomez. Editorial
Copiyepes (Medellin, Colombia), 1980. 176
p. $4.00.

DICIEMBRE 1980. Francisco Cuevas
Cancino, ed. Ediciones Tercer Mundo
(Bogota, Colombia), 1980. 442 p. $40.00.

Vantage Press, 1981. $9.50.

BIBLIOGRAFIA. Pedro Grases Gonzalez, ed.
Seix Barral (Barcelona, Spain), 1980. 555 p.

IN WONDERLAND. Regina Janes.
University of Missouri Press, 1981. 136 p.

SAN MOBILA. Francisco de Borja Medina
Rojas. Escuela de Estudios
Hispanoamericanos de Sevilla (Spain),
1980. 869 p. 3,000 ptas.

DOCUMENTAL Alejandro Patemain. Casa
del Estudiante (Montevideo, Uruguay),
1980. 126 p. $6.00.

SALVADOR. Placido Erdozain, et al. Trans.
by John McFadden and Ruth Wamer. Orbis
Books, 1981. Biography of Bishop Romero
of El Salvador who was brutally killed in

Blanca Caitan de Paris. Cooperativa
Nacional de Artes Graficas (Bogota,
Colombia), 1980. 229 p. $9.00.

CUBA. Anthony Navarro. Arlington House,
1981. 288 p. $14.95.


Description and Travel
T. Prance, Anne E. Prance. Barron's
Educational Series, 1981. $14.95.

CARIBBEAN. Pamela Gosner Three
Continents Press, 1981. 324 p. $26.00;
$12.00 paper.

Janice Bauman, et al. Hippocrene Books,
1981. $12.00.

R. Cheville, Richard A. Cheville. Legacy
Books (Hatboro, Penn.), 1981. 187 p. $8.50.

RESIDENCE. Henry Dunn. Blaine Ethridge
Books, 1981. Reprint of the 1829 ed.

INDIAS. German Tellez, Donaldo Bossa
Herazo. ARCO (Bogota, Colombia), 1980.
190 p. $40.00.

AIRES. Juan Jose de Urquiza. Ediciones
Culturales (Buenos Aires, Argentina), 1980.
159 p. $8.30.

MEMORIES E DIARIO. Cristiano Carlos
Joao Wehrs. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 1980.
284 p. $12.50.

Singer, Vinicius Caldeira Brant, eds. Vozes
(Petr6polis, Brazil), 1980. 230 p. $7 50.

Lubrecht & Cramer (Monticello, N.Y), 1981.
166 p. $25.00.

COMBUSTIBLE. Luis Cagno Rossi. Geosur
(Montevideo, Uruguay), 1980. $6.00.

Jaime Wheelock, Luis Carri6n. Secretaria
Nacional de Propaganda y Educaci6n
Political (Managua, Nicaragua), 1980. 104 p.

1650-1700. Lutgardo Garcia Fuentes.
Escuela de Estudios Hispanoamericanos
de Sevilla (Spain), 1980. 574 p. 1,800 ptas.

Ciro F S. Cardoso, Francisco Hermosillo,
Salvador Hernandez. Siglo XXI Editores
(Mexico), 1980. 248 p. $8.00.


Restrepo. Editorial Bedout (Medellin,
Colombia), 1980. 295 p. $40.00.

Juan Carlos de Pablo. El Cid (Buenos Aires,
Argentina), 1980. 262 p. $24.60.

MEXICO, 1929-1979. Ricardo Ramirez Brun.
Universidad Nacional Autonoma de Mexico,
1980. 189 p. $12.00.

1515-1816. Gabriel Martinez Reyes.
Ediciones Tercer Mundo (Bogota,
Colombia), 1980. 492 p. $38.00.

Menjivar. UCA Editores (San Salvador),
1980. 128 p. $10.00.

SOCIAUSTAS, 1850-1918. Julio Godio.
Editorial Nueva Imagen (Mexico), 1980. 317
p. $13.10.

LATINA. Cesar Balestrini. Universidad
Central de Venezuela, 1980.

LATINA. Alfredo E. Calgagno. United
Nations Economic Commission for Latin
America, CEPAL (Santiago, Chile), 1980.
114 p. $8.00.

Anibal Lovera. Universidad Central de
Venezuela, 1980. 146 p. $15.50

Centro de Estudios Economicos y
Demograficos, El Colegio de Mexico, 1980.
609 p. $20.00. Papers presented at a
conference held in 1979.

FINANCIEROS, 1970-1980. Emilio G.
Barreto. Centro de Estudios y Promocion
del Desarrollo, DESCO (Lima, Peru), 1980.
368 p.

Grayson. University of Pittsburgh Press,
1981. 336 p. $21.95; $6.95 paper.

CENTURY E. Bradford Bums. University of
California Press, 1981. 224 p. $12.95.

ANDINA. Jorgen Golte. Institute de
Estudios Peruanos (Lima, Peru), 1980.
124 p.

MEXICO. Claudio Dabdoub. Editores
Asociados (Mexico), 1980. 148 p. $5.30.

History and Archaeology
LA PLATA. Alonso Diaz de Guzman.
Comuneros (Asunci6n, Paraguay), 1980.
305 p. $23.30.

GUATEMALA, 1491-1811. Juan Gavarrete.
Editorial Pineda y lbarra (Guatemala), 1980.
307 p. $10.00.

Josefina Alonso de Rodrigo. Imp. Delgado
(Guatemala), 1981. 300 p. $20.00.

DE HOY Eugenio Barney Cabrera. Oaprey
(Bogota Colombia), 1980. 112 p. $6.00.

1979. Hugo Leguizamon. Libros de Hispano-
america (Buenos Aires, Argentina), 1980.
261 p. $18.50.

de Assis Martins Fernandes. Loyola (Sao
Paulo, Brazil), 1980. 131 p. $4.50.

NIZA IN 1539. Adolph E Bandelier.
University of Arizona Press, 1981. $10.95.

Oswaldo A. Diaz O. Ediciones Tercer
Mundo (Bogota, Colombia), 1980. 120 p.
COLOMBIANA. Hugo Rodriguez Acosta.
Editorial Tupac Amaru (Bogota, Colombia),
1980. 264 p.

WORLD. Burr Cartwright Brundage.
University of Texas Press, 1981. 283 p.
HISTORY Michael Goulding. University of
California Press, 1981. 250 p. $16.50.

Pedro Grases Gonzalez. Seix Barral
(Barcelona, Spain), 1980. 3 vols. $24.00.
About Venezuela.

et al. Institute Gonzalo Fernandez de
Oviedo (Madrid, Spain), 1980. 265 p. 500

AND RITUAL. Victoria Reifler Bricker
University of Texas Press, 1981. 368 p.

LATIN AMERICA'S PRESS. Marvin Alisky. Iowa
State University Press, 1981.

Language and Literature
Bonnie J. Barthold. Yale University Press,
1981. 224 p. $17.50.

POETRY Octavio Armand, ed. Logbridge-
Rhodes (Durango, Colo.), 1981. 300 p.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Editorial Oveja
Negra (Bogota, Colombia), 1981.

minio Corral Barrera. EDAMEX (Mexico),
1980. 256 p. 130.00 pesos.

ESTADOS UNIDOS. Efrain Barradas,
Rafael Rodriguez. Ediciones Huracan (San
Juan, P R.), 1980. 166 p. $10.95.

LITERATURE. Gary D. Keller, Francisco
Jimenez, eds. Bilingual Review/Press
(Ypsilanti, Mich.), 1980. 165 p. $9.95.

NOVEL John R. Tapia. University Press of
America, 1981. 120 p. $16.25; $7.95 paper.

Victoriano Polo Garcia. Universidad de
Murcia (Spain), 1980. 123 p. $6.80.

Editorial Pocho-Che (San Francisco, Calif.),
1980. 140 p. $10.00

COLOMBIA. Luis Ivan Bedoya. Augusto
Escobar. Ediciones Hombre Nuevo
(Medellin, Colombia), 1980. 197 p. $6.00.

GENERATION OF 1880. Hugo Rodriguez-
Alcala, ed. University of Califomia
(Riverside), 1981.

SAL\ADORENA. Luis Gallegos Valdes.
UCA Editores (San Salvador), 1980. 470 p.

POESIA ATLANTICA. Julio Valle Castillo, ed.
Ministerio de Cultura (Managua,
Nicaragua), 1980. 105 p. $10.00. An
anthology of miskito, Black and Caribbean
poetry from Nicaragua's Atlantic coast.

Albomoz, ed. Origenes (Madrid, Spain),
1980. 334 p.

DE TRINITARIA. Comelis Ch. Goslinga. Nijgh
& van Ditmar ('s Gravenhage, Netherlands),
1981. 148 p. Nf25.50. Short stories from the
Netherlands Antilles.

Politics and Government
Abadia. Escuela de Estudios Hispano-
americanos de Sevilla (Spain), 1980. 186 p.
400 ptas.

SALVADOR. Rafael Guidos Vejar. UCA
Editores (San Salvador), 1980. 168 p.

Velasquez, et al. Centauro (Caracas,
Venezuela), 1980. 464 p. $28.00.

STRUGGLE. German Telez, Christine
Plotter. Ocean Press (San Jose, Calif.),
1981. $12.50. Photobook of the guerilla
struggle in Nicaragua.

Editorial Universidad Estatal a Distancia
(San Jose, Costa Rica), 1980. 135 p. $10.00.

Romero. Editorial Popular (Madrid, Spain),
1980. 214 p. $15.00. Sermons dealing with
the political situation in El Salvador by the
martyred bishop.

DEMOCRACY. Jose Antonio Gil Yepes.
Transaction Books, 1981. 175 p. $19.95.

REAUDAD NATIONAL Alvaro Arguello, ed.
Institute Historico Centroamericano
(Managua, Nicaragua), 1980. 375 p. $15.00.

Henderson. University of Nebraska Press,
1981. 239 p. $18.50.

Y EXTRANJERA. Rene Rodriguez. M.,
Antonio Acevedo Espinoza, eds. Banco
Central (Managua, Nicaragua), 1980. 174 p.

STATE. Thomas Flory. University of Texas
Press, 1981. 284 p. $25.00.

CENSORSHIP Marvin Alisky. Iowa State
University Press, 1981. $16.50.

RICA. Ruben Hernandez. Juricentro (San
Jose, Costa Rica), 1980. 250 p. $12.50.

SANDINISTA. Pilar Arias. Siglo XXI Editores
(Mexico), 1980. 225 p. $5.30.

EN AMERICA LATINA. Organization of
American States, 1980. 124 p. $4.00.

Sol. Departamento Ecumenico de
Investigaciones (San Jose, Costa Rica),
1980. 180 p. $10.00.

Fernandez. Siglo XXI Editores (Mexico),
1980.177 p.

SALVADOR, 1871-1931. Rodolfo Cardenal
Chamorro. San Salvador, 1980. 343 p.

Magda Ines Rojas. Juricentro (San Jose,
Costa Rica), 1980. 343 p. $12.50.

PERU. Mark A. Burkholder. University of
New Mexico Press, 1981. 198 p. $20.00.

UN PUEBLO EN ARMAS. Carlos Nunez Tellez.
Secretaria Nacional de Propaganda y
Educaci6n Politica del E S.LN. (Managua,
Nicaragua), 1980. 142 p. $12.50.

Helen Delpar. University of Alabama Press,
1981. $21.00.

REVOLUTION. Charles R. Berry. University
of Nebraska Press, 1981. 315 p.

VERSION REBELDE. Lucas Moran Arce.
Universidad Catolica de Puerto Rico. 1980.
361 p. $14.95.

CML. Mario Menendez Rodriguez. Editorial
Universitaria Centroamericana (San Jose,
Costa Rica.), 1980. 225 p. $12.50.

PEQUENO. Rafael Menjivar. Editorial
Universitaria Centroamericana (San Jose,
Costa Rica), 1980. 236 p. $12.50.

LIBERACION. Tomas Guerra. Editorial
Farabundo Marti (San Jose, Costa Rica),
1980. 305 p. $15.00.

Maria Calderon, et al. Editorial Nuestro
Tiempo (Mexico), 1980. 178 p. $12.50.

EN COLOMBIA. Amnesty Intemational.
Comite de Solaridad con los Presos
Politicos (Bogota, Colombia), 1980.296 p.

BUENOS AIRES. Universidad de Buenos
Aires. G.K. Hall, 1980. 7 vols. $166.00.
OF MARXISM, 1922-1972. Ronald H.
Chilcote, ed. Kraus Intemational, 1981.
A. Lent. ed. Crossroads Press, 1981. 160 p.
Therrin C. Dahlin, Gary R Gillum, Mark L.
Grover. G.K. Hall, 1981. 350 p. $35.00.
1967 AND 1978. Committee for the
Development of Subject Acess to Chicano
Literature. G.K. Hall, 1981. $60.00.
1535-1700. Organization of American
States. OAS, 1980. 523 p. $15.00.
HAITIENNE. Max Manigat. Collectif Paroles
(Montreal, Canada), 1980. 83 p.
COUNTRIES. Sara de Mundo Lo. G.K. Hall,
1981, 468 p. $60.00. The first of three
volumes providing access to information
about the lives of more than 70,000
persons associated with Latin America.
Paddington Press. Facts on File, 1981. 448
p. $11.95.
(Firm), Macmillan, 1981. 416 p. $12.95.

Sabiro. Virgin Islands Bureau of Libraries,
Museums and Archeological Services,

Gerard A. Nagelkerke. Dept. of Caribbean
Studies, Royal Institute of Linguistics and
Anthropology (Leiden, Netherlands), 1980.
336 p.
CRITICISM, 1930-1975. Jeanette B. Allis.
G.K. Hall, 1981. 353 p. $30.00.

jlV I-;i




The Caribbean Review Award is an annual award to honor an individual who
has contributed to the advancement of Caribbean intellectual life.
The recipient of this year's award is Sir Philip M. Sherlock.
Sir Philip Manderson Sherlock, K.B.E., is a Caribbean renaissance man. Born in
Jamaica in 1902, Sir Philip has been a school teacher and Headmaster a member
of the pre-Independence Legislative Council (1952-59) and since 1947 a leading
light at the University of the West Indies. His 13 years as Director of the Department
of Extra-Mural Studies of the University were innovative and dynamic ones. After
three years as Pro-Vice Chancellor Sir Philip was made Vice-Chancellor a
capacity in which he served for over ten years.

During these years he continued to publish in history and folklore. His Short
History of the West Indies (with John Parry) became the standard work on the
subject; his Anansi, the Spider Man was representative of his love for folklore
generally and that of Jamaica and the West Indies specifically.
Among his other writings on folklore are: Jamaica Way, The Iguanas Tail, The
Man in the Web and other folk tales, and West Indian Story. Among his other
social science writings are: The Aborigines of Jamaica, Caribbean Citizen, and
West Indian Nations, A New History. Included among his poetry are: Ten Poems
and Shout for Freedom.
In 1968 Sir Philip established UNICA, the Association of Caribbean Universities
and Research Institutes, which in a few years gathered over 60 Universities and
Research Institutes of the Greater Caribbean into a single organization devoted to
Caribbean scholarship. Today, Sir Philip heads up the UNICA Foundations and at
age 80 continues to labor for his great ideal, a pan-Caribbean society.
The award committee consisted of Lambros Comitas (Chairman), Columbia
University, New York; Fuat Andic, Universidad de Puerto Rico, San Juan, Puerto
Rico; Wendell Bell, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut Locksley Edmondson,
University of the West Indies, Mona, Jamaica Anthony P Maingot, Florida
International University, Miami, Florida.
Nominations for the third annual Caribbean Review Award-to be presented at
the Seventh Annual Meeting of the Caribbean Studies Association in Spring 1982-
should be sent to The Editor Caribbean Review, Florida International University,
Miami, Florida 33199.
The award recognizes individual effort irrespective of field, ideology, national
origin, or place of residence. In addition to a plaque the recipient receives an
honorarium of $250, donated by the International Affairs Center of Florida
International University.

Ships' Registry: Norway

"We had a grat time. The S/S Nor way

is a beautiful ship. And the entertainment

is byfar the bet.MrMrs.John Notenan, Sarasota, FL.

"This was our first cruise and I thought it was
really great.
"To start with, aboard the S/S Norway you don't
have to worry about reservations anywhere. For the
price of your room, you have your meals and practi-
cally everything else included.
"The entertainment aboard the ship during the
whole cruise was excellent. We had a really profes-
sional performance of the Broadway show 'Hello
Dolly.' One night Al Martino, the famous singer, gave
us all a great show. And it's really hard to believe
but even the television shows on the TV set in our
stateroom were good.
"A lot of times we had food that I didn't think
they were able to serve aboard a ship. One night we
had prime rib and another night it was a delicious
roast duck. It was really very, very good.
"All the different sports you were able to play
aboard the S/S Norway were really surprising. I
mean we were actually able to play volleyball and
basketball. Imagine volleyball and basketball aboard
a ship. I was really impressed!"

For more information about one-week cruises
departing from Miami aboard the magnificent
S/S Norway- our $100 million resort- and her visits
to St. Thomas and the unforgettable beach party
you can enjoy on NCL's private Out Island, see your
travel agent or use the attached coupon.
We'll be glad to send you a free booklet about
the S/S Norway that's full of hints and tips on how to
get the most out of your cruise vacation.
g*---------- ====== -- ---
I Norwegian Caribbean Lines'
I First Fleet of the Caribbean
Norwegian Caribbean Lines
P.O. Box 1111
Addison, Illinois 60101
SPlease send me your FREE S/S Norway cruising
1 booklet (#102).





Air Florida has the only daily non-stop flights to
Freeport, the only non-stop flights to Rock
Sound (Eleuthera) and a connecting flight to
Treasure Cay. Air Florida also has daily service
to Freeport out of White Plains.
Air Florida has daily non-stop flights to Free-
port and 20 flights a week to The Bahamas Out
Islands: Treasure Cay, Rock Sound, North
Eleuthera, Marsh Harbour and George Town.
Air Florida has daily flights to Freeport and
connecting service to Rock Sound (Eleuthera).
For information call toll free 1-800-327-2971.

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