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Leave Tivoli alone
Dr Henley Morgan
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
"Leave Tivoli alone!" So read a sign held aloft by residents of the besieged community as they marched Thursday, May 20, in protest against the police and military strike force then amassing along their borders. Those who know and appreciate Jamaica's modern political history will feel more than others the weight of the sentiments expressed on the hastily put together and seemingly flimsy placards.
Tivoli's pain goes back over a generation to the shanty town in West Kingston, then called Back-O-Wall. Seaga, a white, foreign-born man of Lebanese extract, became member of parliament for the area in1962. He orchestrated the clearing-out of the residents of Back-O-Wall to make way for Tivoli as we know it today. Opinions are split as to whether Tivoli represents the best experiment in social engineering in modern Jamaica, as seen through the eyes of Seaga himself, or is the result of deliberate manipulation of the electoral process and commandeering of state funds for political motives, as seen through the eyes of many others, and echoed by the published views of Arnold Bertram, a former minister in the PNP administration.
The May 20 Tivoli demonstration. (Photo: Lionel Rookwood)
The May 20 Tivoli demonstration. (Photo: Lionel Rookwood)
1/1
What is undisputable is the fact that Tivoli, which up until the time of Mr Seaga's entry into representational politics, never had a member of parliament for longer than one term, became homogenous (one-sided) in its voting pattern. It is also undisputable that Tivoli marked the advent of political enclaves or fortresses (so-called political garrisons) to which the PNP responded by creating several of their own.
In the ensuing political milieu the proverbial strongman, euphemistically called a community leader but more realistically recognised as a don, was to become entrenched as a political institution; equal to and in some cases more powerful than his counterpart from the formal system. One of the most popular such figures to come out of Tivoli was Claudius Massop, who in 1977 was taken down in a hail of bullets fired from police guns.
It is instructive to read the account of the aftermath of Massop's unfortunate but predictable death carried in the March 11, 1979 Gleaner and excerpted in the book, Edward Seaga and the Challenges of Modern Jamaica by Patrick Bryan. "Thousands of Tivoli residents marched silently through the streets at dark carrying lighted candles of all shapes and sizes. An overnight vigil was maintained by the crowds who sang religious songs, drummed and prayed. The following afternoon, several thousand persons turned out dressed in their assorted finery, black being the predominant colour. A number of mostly dreadlocked youths sat or stood under the shady almond trees, playing checkers and smoking chillum pipes filled with pungent-smelling herbs. The following day a nine-night celebration was held in the Community Centre. The remembrance was given by Councillor Desmond McKenzie who was also President of Young Jamaica. One feature of the slow march to the graveyard was the 'possession of spirit' exhibited by several mourners."
We are now in the year 2010, 33 years later. We have come full circle. History, it seems, is repeating itself. While Rome burns the Neros of Jamaica's sick political system are fiddling; expecting the rest of us to dance to their discordant tune.
Edward Seaga, who last week emerged from academia where he is safely ensconced, to "pay back" his once favoured heir to the throne, has great difficulty coming to terms with the charge that he is one of the prime architects of the political garrison. The subject is conspicuously absent from his present scholarly writings. I have on my desk three books covering the life and contribution of the former prime minister: Edward Seaga, My Life and Leadership; Revelations, Beyond Political Boundaries, and Edward Seaga, and the Challenges of Modern Jamaica. Only the last one, a biography by Patrick Bryan, makes meaningful reference to Tivoli in the context of it being a political garrison and that in a manner that exposes the writer as an apologist for Mr Seaga and his social experimentation that transformed Back-O-Wall to Tivoli in the turbulent 1960s when gun violence took root in Jamaica.
But it is not only Mr Seaga who is living in denial of the monster the politicians allegedly helped create. As far as I know, Portia Simpson Miller has never admitted to representing a garrison constituency, claiming instead that it is out of a mutual love affair between herself and her constituents that they have voted for her overwhelmingly in each of the general elections she has contested. Neither has Peter Phillips, though he waxes eloquently about the need for the nation to expunge itself of the sins of garrison politics. Mr Golding himself waffles on the subject. The Monday, November 16, 2009 edition of the Gleaner quoted him saying the following: "The days of tribalism and war are behind us and the transformation of West Kingston is taking place. No battle lines are drawn and people can go where they want to." Compare the Tivoli of that statement with the Tivoli we see on our television screens nightly just six months later.
No, Tivoli, we will not leave you alone; we cannot leave you alone. We feel your pain and know that deep down you yearn to be free. Used, abused and refused, you may not see in the moment that anyone could care whether you continue to exist or are blown off the face of the earth. That understanding, I pray, will come. For now, just believe that there is better to be had from life than the existence of the past half century and that there are many of us prepared to fight and, yes, to die for your liberation and for the liberation of the many communities across Jamaica, which like you have been violated and used for political fodder.
Tivoli, we love you.
hmorgan@cwjamaica.com
http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/colum...-alone_7665159
Dr Henley Morgan
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
"Leave Tivoli alone!" So read a sign held aloft by residents of the besieged community as they marched Thursday, May 20, in protest against the police and military strike force then amassing along their borders. Those who know and appreciate Jamaica's modern political history will feel more than others the weight of the sentiments expressed on the hastily put together and seemingly flimsy placards.
Tivoli's pain goes back over a generation to the shanty town in West Kingston, then called Back-O-Wall. Seaga, a white, foreign-born man of Lebanese extract, became member of parliament for the area in1962. He orchestrated the clearing-out of the residents of Back-O-Wall to make way for Tivoli as we know it today. Opinions are split as to whether Tivoli represents the best experiment in social engineering in modern Jamaica, as seen through the eyes of Seaga himself, or is the result of deliberate manipulation of the electoral process and commandeering of state funds for political motives, as seen through the eyes of many others, and echoed by the published views of Arnold Bertram, a former minister in the PNP administration.
The May 20 Tivoli demonstration. (Photo: Lionel Rookwood)
The May 20 Tivoli demonstration. (Photo: Lionel Rookwood) 1/1 What is undisputable is the fact that Tivoli, which up until the time of Mr Seaga's entry into representational politics, never had a member of parliament for longer than one term, became homogenous (one-sided) in its voting pattern. It is also undisputable that Tivoli marked the advent of political enclaves or fortresses (so-called political garrisons) to which the PNP responded by creating several of their own.
In the ensuing political milieu the proverbial strongman, euphemistically called a community leader but more realistically recognised as a don, was to become entrenched as a political institution; equal to and in some cases more powerful than his counterpart from the formal system. One of the most popular such figures to come out of Tivoli was Claudius Massop, who in 1977 was taken down in a hail of bullets fired from police guns.
It is instructive to read the account of the aftermath of Massop's unfortunate but predictable death carried in the March 11, 1979 Gleaner and excerpted in the book, Edward Seaga and the Challenges of Modern Jamaica by Patrick Bryan. "Thousands of Tivoli residents marched silently through the streets at dark carrying lighted candles of all shapes and sizes. An overnight vigil was maintained by the crowds who sang religious songs, drummed and prayed. The following afternoon, several thousand persons turned out dressed in their assorted finery, black being the predominant colour. A number of mostly dreadlocked youths sat or stood under the shady almond trees, playing checkers and smoking chillum pipes filled with pungent-smelling herbs. The following day a nine-night celebration was held in the Community Centre. The remembrance was given by Councillor Desmond McKenzie who was also President of Young Jamaica. One feature of the slow march to the graveyard was the 'possession of spirit' exhibited by several mourners."
We are now in the year 2010, 33 years later. We have come full circle. History, it seems, is repeating itself. While Rome burns the Neros of Jamaica's sick political system are fiddling; expecting the rest of us to dance to their discordant tune.
Edward Seaga, who last week emerged from academia where he is safely ensconced, to "pay back" his once favoured heir to the throne, has great difficulty coming to terms with the charge that he is one of the prime architects of the political garrison. The subject is conspicuously absent from his present scholarly writings. I have on my desk three books covering the life and contribution of the former prime minister: Edward Seaga, My Life and Leadership; Revelations, Beyond Political Boundaries, and Edward Seaga, and the Challenges of Modern Jamaica. Only the last one, a biography by Patrick Bryan, makes meaningful reference to Tivoli in the context of it being a political garrison and that in a manner that exposes the writer as an apologist for Mr Seaga and his social experimentation that transformed Back-O-Wall to Tivoli in the turbulent 1960s when gun violence took root in Jamaica.
But it is not only Mr Seaga who is living in denial of the monster the politicians allegedly helped create. As far as I know, Portia Simpson Miller has never admitted to representing a garrison constituency, claiming instead that it is out of a mutual love affair between herself and her constituents that they have voted for her overwhelmingly in each of the general elections she has contested. Neither has Peter Phillips, though he waxes eloquently about the need for the nation to expunge itself of the sins of garrison politics. Mr Golding himself waffles on the subject. The Monday, November 16, 2009 edition of the Gleaner quoted him saying the following: "The days of tribalism and war are behind us and the transformation of West Kingston is taking place. No battle lines are drawn and people can go where they want to." Compare the Tivoli of that statement with the Tivoli we see on our television screens nightly just six months later.
No, Tivoli, we will not leave you alone; we cannot leave you alone. We feel your pain and know that deep down you yearn to be free. Used, abused and refused, you may not see in the moment that anyone could care whether you continue to exist or are blown off the face of the earth. That understanding, I pray, will come. For now, just believe that there is better to be had from life than the existence of the past half century and that there are many of us prepared to fight and, yes, to die for your liberation and for the liberation of the many communities across Jamaica, which like you have been violated and used for political fodder.
Tivoli, we love you.
hmorgan@cwjamaica.com
http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/colum...-alone_7665159
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