CARIBBEAN eyes and ears are less tuned than expected to the continuing hitches affecting the current British Royal Caribbean charm offensive involving Prince Edward and his wife Sophie, the Earl and Countess of Wessex, dispatched by Buckingham Palace to ‘celebrate’ Queen Elizabeth’s 70th year on the throne in selected Commonwealth Caribbean states.

But even so, knowledge of the history of neighbouring islands and territories in the 21st Century, and after six decades of independence, is such that few, today, know there was an armed revolution, on the 39-square mile Leeward Island of Anguilla in 1967, that was eventually put down by Royal British military might in 1969 – and a decade before Grenada.

Led by Ronald Webster, the revolution on the island of just over six thousand inhabitants was not against British rule or for independence, but for separation and self-determination, within the colonial structure, from the three-island Federation of Saint Kitts, Nevis and Anguilla.

The move was backed by majority support for two referenda by Anguillans who felt neglected by politicians of the mainland St. Kitts administration.

Unwilling to allow the islanders to administer themselves within the colonial realm, Britain, in March 1969, dispatched 315 paratroopers and two frigates to Anguilla to “restore order”.

As it turned out, the administration Anguillans revolted against was led by Dominica-born Robert Bradshaw, the federation’s Chief Minister 1966 and 1967 — and from then as Premier until his untimely death in Saint Lucia 1978.

Politics in the smaller Windward and Leeward Islands is much different and close-knit than in those of the larger ‘Big Four’ (Barbados, Guyana, Jamaica and Trinidad & Tobago) where ultra-nationalist politicians insist that only persons born within their borders can be elected as Heads of State or Government.

Historical cross-border travel and trade and intermingling between neighbouring islanders have, however, led, over time, to many cases of an elected leader of one island having been born on another.

For example: Saint Lucia’s first Prime Minister, Sir John Compton was born in Canouan (St. Vincent and the Grenadines); Prime Minister Allen Chastanet (also of Saint Lucia) was born in Martinique — and Grenada’s Prime Minister Maurice Bishop was born in Aruba.

Nor do many Saint Lucians or fellow Caribbean citizens today know that Empress Josephine (Napoleon Bonaparte’s wife) was born in Saint Lucia.

Inter-island marital links have also featured greatly in the politics of the islands over decades, as with St. Vincent’s elected government under Chief Minister Ebenezer Joshua (1961-1967) functioning with his Grenada-born wife, Ivy, as Leader of the Opposition, after his People’s Progressive Party (PPP) won all the contested seats.

Like everywhere else (including Britain), Windward and Leeward Islands leaders do all they can, within the Constitutions bequeathed by Britain, to survive being replaced by opposition challenges at elections.

For reasons not explained, St. Kitts was never included on the current second Royal Tour, but the current very fluid political situation on the island can probably offer a strong hint why.

Prime Minister, Dr Timothy Harris and his tripartite Team Unity Coalition Government are under intense pressure from a coalition of government and opposition MPs, led by two top Cabinet ministers, attempting a Palace Coup.

The last fortnight saw an unending mix-and-match game of loaded Political Chess and Legal Draughts driven by experts in Ludo and Snakes-and-Ladders, using Jokers as Trump Cards and language and knowledge of law to checkmate each other, if only for brief periods while playing-for-time.

Take the following scenario.
Last week (on April 20), Prime Minister Harris published an 18-page reply to Deputy Prime Minister Shawn Richards and Mark Brantley (also the Premier of Nevis and Minister of Foreign Affairs) whom he regards as leading the brewing Palace Coup.

Richards is Leader of People’s Action Movement (PAM) and Bentley leads the Concerned Citizens Movement (CCM), both parties belonging to the ruling alliance led by Harris.

But after seven of the federation’s 11 parliamentarians hurriedly wrote Governor-General Sir Tapley Seaton last week informing him Harris no longer had their support as Prime Minister, the Governor-General immediately replied, pointing out their letter “was undated” — and informing that he would “seek legal advice” on how to respond.

Next, the revolting MPs heard from the Governor-General and, within hours, there was a national proclamation declaring “ten days national mourning” for former Nevis Premier and West Indies cricketer, Ambassador Vance Amory.

Harris immediately called on citizens to put politics aside for the next ten days and “reflect respectfully” in “good and decent” ways, to “honour” Amory’s memory “in serenity and solemnity” and “in an environment devoid of agitation and divisive conduct”.

His rebelling Cabinet colleagues and fellow opposing MPs had called on Harris to resign (as Prime Minister) halfway through his current five-year term on December 31, 2023, but the PM replied:
“The Constitution determines the manner in which I would demit office and I therefore reject the notion that I be subjected to a date established by you…”

And he added: “I will not participate in any proposals to diminish the prerogatives and authority of the Prime Minister as set out in the Constitution…”

Harris made it clear, “I will not do anything just to stay in power and I do not seek to have elections before constitutionally due,” but he warned that “If it becomes necessary, I am willing to abide by and support the will of the people as demonstrated in the election results, whatever they may be…”

Like all his predecessors, Harris is quite aware that, short of a revolution lime in Anguilla or Grenada, it’ll be up to which party or team than can win the most votes in a sharply-divided society whenever elections are called.

But it’s not-at-all because of what many other Caribbean citizens call “small-island politics”.

What’s unfolding in St. Kitts is simply the nature of the politics of survival by politicians with backs-to-the-wall and law-books in hand – and nothing to do with size or geography.