IN a national outpouring of grief, Barbados on Wednesday bid final farewell at a state funeral for its youngest Prime Minister, David Thompson, who died on October 23 after a courageous battle against pancreatic cancer and plunged this country in an unprecedented eleven days of mourning. For all its otherwise endearing aspects, there is a sickness in our cultural tradition by which we make haste to send flowers and shower praises upon the passing of those who, in life, were often the objects of criticisms, at times extremely mean.

It came as no surprise, therefore, over the mourning period, to learn from tributes of the “outstanding qualities” of David Thompson from some who had strongly felt, while he was with us, that for him “politics was a blood sport”.

Hence, my own humble preference for the roses while I can enjoy the fragrance, along with the brickbats – if needs be.

The mourning period for Thompson, a first-time Prime Minister in office for less than three years, was highlighted by a unique – warts and all – saturated local media coverage which far surpassed even that of the legendary Errol Barrrow, who had led this country into political independence 48 years ago.   
The contrast between the mourning period and funeral arrangements for Barrow and his protege Thompson, was quite sharp.

It may have had much to do with the circumstances of death and time afforded to determine how their respective passing should be observed – and in accordance with earlier expressed views or wishes.

Following the sudden passing in office of Prime Minister Tom Adams in 1985, there was the tragic death of Barrow within two years of his return to power. Both leaders died from suspected heart attack.

The 48-year-old Thompson, on the other hand, was waging an admirable struggle for months against pancreatic cancer. With the strength and love of family and close friends he undoubtedly would have helped to determine aspects, if not approve all major arrangements for the final journey that Barbados has experienced over eleven days – itself a unique political occurrence in our region.
As I recall, official mourning for Tom Adams was some three days. Following the state funeral, he was buried on the ground of St, Michael’s Cathedral, where his father, Sir Grantley Adams, first Prime Minister of the short-lived West Indies Federation, was laid to rest.

For Errol Barrow’s final journey, arrangements for his funeral had reflected his expressed desire. Amid reports of a plan by the Guyana Government to mummify the body of President Forbes Burnham, who died in August 1985, Barrow was to signal his preference for cremation – as was done for Trinidad and Tobago’s iconic historian Prime Minister Eric Williams, who died in March 1981.

Barrow had publicly stated: “When called to my reckoning, and since I do not require or need any outpouring of hypocrisy, or glass-enclosed shrine…my mortal remains, after incineration, may be scattered from an aircraft in the Caribbean Sea, without any of the ghoulish and undignified caterwauling that passes for service in one of our main places of political public entertainment.” In death, his wish was so honoured.                                                                  

For now, and until another time, let me note the surprise that followed the ill-timed and unpleasant boast by “political strategist” Hartley Henry — as reported in the Daily Nation of October 26 — that he was “the kingmaker” of Thompson’s political success, and with the Prime Minister’s death he has chosen to quit his role as “political adviser” to the new Head of Government, Freundel Stuart.   

It is doubtful that Stuart, who was Thompson’s Deputy Prime Minister and Attorney General, would have required the service of Henry, the self-proclaimed ‘kingmaker’ of the late leader of the governing Democratic Labour Party.