Reflections on our independence: Are they not worthy of national awards too?

THIS week we observe 51 years of independence or political freedom from colonial rule. As is the case with most recent post-colonial societies, the debate over whether we are truly independent is as fresh as it was four decades ago. It is an inevitable debate, given the fact that independence ended almost four centuries of institutionalised bondage by the other—the coloniser who reduced his subjects to mere chattel. That is a fact that should never be lost in our debate over the condition of our independence. You do not undo four centuries of bondage in 51 years, for the formal end of a system does not translate into a cessation of the practice of the system. As Brother Bob Marley, our musical prophet, reminds us: “No chains around my feet/But I am not free.”

So even as we celebrate our independence, we are still grappling with the legacy of colonialism. Another of our musical icons, David Rudder, tells us a bitter truth—that we live in a world “that don’t need islands no more.” Our islands once made Europe rich—the root of their wealth lies in our little islands or as Walter Rodney would say, their development is a function of our underdevelopment. So, as we celebrate, we must also reflect on our condition, in all its manifestations. We Caribbean people like a party—for good reason—but we have at all times a duty to engage in a “conscious party.” In other words, we must dance to the rhythm of freedom, for if you are/were bound in captivity, your dance can only be a dance of freedom.

The question before us this independence is whether we have done enough to translate our independence into a deliberate quest for freedom. Have we expanded the freedom-space since 1966? Are our people — especially the least among us — freer today than they were in 1966? If socio-economic poverty was the most damning consequence of colonisation, what have we done to decrease its grip on our society? What have we done to turn the plantation model into its opposite?

Any fair observer must answer those questions more in the negative that the positive. After 51 years of independence, our country still resembles a plantation society. Our former colonial masters still control the drift of our collective motion. But we know enough to know that that reaction is inevitable. The question is whether we have mustered the collective will to negotiate that inevitability. Again, the answer has to be more a no that a yes. Note, I am not saying that we have not attempted to deal with those inherent maladies, but in the end, we have to conclude that we have not been as persistent and consistent as we should have been.

Yes, our people in Guyana and the wider Caribbean have survived the last 51 years—they have, in their native ways, tried to give character and dignity to our independence. They turned plantations into villages and areas of darkness into points of light. Many of us can today lift our gazes to the mountain top, not because of the freedom some party or government gave us, but because the people turned themselves into ladders for us to climb.
But amid those noble moves, our elites have let us down badly, especially the political elites. We hear the supporters of the various political leaders sing their praises. From Burnham and Jagan to Jagdeo and Granger, we construct these political deities and in the process, diminish ourselves as an independent people. Not that these men and their governments do not have virtues, but they also have political vices—sometimes these vices are more the rule than the exception.

I have long dismissed the Jagan-Jagdeo and Burnham-Hoyte regimes as less than transformational. Their attempts at transformation were outweighed by a propensity for plantation-like dictatorship. I acknowledge all the admirable attempts they made, but in the end our independence is poorer—the price we paid for those positives is too high for a post-plantation society to pay. They all—all of them—ended up loving power more than using power to free our society from what the Kwayanas call “the scars of bondage.” I know that I am offending my Jaganite and Burhamite friends, but the other narrative must be told. As Brother Bob Marley again reminds us: “Half the story has never been told.”

I come to our latest government. I have repeatedly said that they are best poised to correct the wrongs of the past—to write that other half of the story. History throws up social formations at different junctures in our history, but as CLR James would argue, those formations have to be conscious of what they represent and have to have the capacity to absorb the positive energies that are responsible for their evolution. On the cricket field, we saw that with Frank Worrell, Clive Lloyd and Viv Richards, but not with Brian Lara and Chris Gayle. The latter two did not have the capacity to absorb the energies that made them possible. Hence, while they shone individually, the West Indian light rapidly faded.

I am afraid that if the Granger government does not in short order come to an appreciation of its historical calling, we may end up like the West Indies cricket team. Vision matters. A sense of your government’s place in the historical trajectory of the society matters. I look around the elected leaderships and I see little sign of a willingness to engage history; to engage the present as the past and the future. President Granger is a historian who must know what I am driving at. He has to inspire his troops more, for we have no more time to lose—it’s been 51 long years.

I pay little attention to national awards, for they have come to mean substantively little. The list of awardees this government has put forward since coming to power, reinforces my cynicism. Your people of distinction cannot be 69 persons, most of whom are elites. My God, do you mean we have not learned anything from our past five decades of mistakes ? Do you mean to tell me that the only measure of distinction is to be a lawyer or a doctor or some top man or woman? What happen to those tens of thousands who put you in power– are they not worthy of national awards too? We ought to be ashamed to call ourselves an independent society when our praxis is overladen with colonial reflexes.

Why not go to each village and find some person without titles and letters, but who makes a difference and award them? Why not award a village or community for doing good for itself? But one must feel it in one’s bones and soul for those ordinary people to think that they are worthy of awards. My academic profile or successful law practice does not make me worthier of national recognition than the woman who wakes up every day and opens her cake-shop till midnight to feed her community. It’s time we change this totalitarian elitist mentality, or our independence will continue to mean little beyond raising a flag and clapping.

More of Dr. Hinds ‘writings and commentaries can be found on his YouTube Channel Hinds’ Sight: Dr. David Hinds’ Guyana-Caribbean Politics and on his website www.guyanacaribbeanpolitics.com. Send comments to dhinds6106@aol.com

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