H. Eugene and Lillian Youngs Lehman Series

British Guiana's Struggle for Independence

Colin A. Palmer

• Publisher: The University of North Carolina Press
• Year: 2010
• ISBN:
  9780807899618
• Topic: Histoire
• Subtopic: Histoire de l'Amérique latine et des Caraïbes

Colin Palmer, one of the foremost chroniclers of twentieth-century British and U.S. imperialism in the Caribbean, here tells the story of British Guiana's struggle for independence. At the center of the story is Cheddi Jagan, who was the colony's first premier following the institution of universal adult suffrage in 1953. Informed by the first use of many British, U.S., and Guyanese archival sources, Palmer's work details Jagan's rise and fall, from his initial electoral victory in the spring of 1953 to the aftermath of the British-orchestrated coup d'etat that led to the suspension of the constitution and the removal of Jagan's independence-minded administration. Jagan's political odyssey continued--he was reelected to the premiership in 1957--but in 1964 he fell out of power again under pressure from Guianese, British, and U.S. officials suspicious of Marxist influences on the People's Progressive Party, founded in 1950 by Jagan and his activist wife, Janet Rosenberg. But Jagan's political life was not over--after decades in the opposition, he became Guyana's president in 1992. Subtly analyzing the actual role of Marxism in Caribbean anticolonial struggles and bringing the larger story of Caribbean colonialism into view, Palmer examines the often malevolent roles played by leaders at home and abroad and shows how violence, police corruption, political chicanery, racial politics, and poor leadership delayed Guyana's independence until 1966, scarring the body politic in the process.

(1) The Imperial Coup d'Etat

There was the eerie suspicion, even a perverse expectation, that something unusual was in the air, but the day itself was ordinary, warm, and sunny. Georgetown was rife with rumors but no one knew how the day would end. The ministers of government were said to be in their offices hurriedly retrieving their papers and destroying some of them. Barely 133 days in office, the young government had outraged the colonial authorities by its unapologetic pugnacity, its noisy assertion of an unrepentant socialism, and the exhibition of a brash independence, at least rhetorically. October 9, 1953, was the day when the fledgling regime would receive a harsh lesson in the exercise of the might of a colonial power. British troops disembarked the day before as a preemptive strike against an imagined resistance to the impending imperial action.

The arrival of the British troops on October 8 created a subdued excitement in the capital city as a few curious residents gathered to observe their movements and to speculate about their business in the colony. Some five hundred strong, the soldiers had left Jamaica aboard the HMSSuperb a few days earlier. There were no welcoming ceremonies for them as there was no time for such military etiquette. The Colonial Office had prepared the men to expect trouble from the Guianese people, but an uneasy calm and a sense of controlled resignation prevailed. Describing the pulse of Georgetown during those difficult days, American consul general William P. Maddox wrote:

The surface scene in Georgetown is orderly and serene. Shopping goes on as usual. The only street excitement is provided by the marching military band assisting in the change-of-guard ceremony at Government House. Hundreds of cyclists follow the band's procession with unfeigned enjoyment and admiration. At the height of the crisis, a boxing match took place, a horseracing meet was held, and a cricket contest was played with Trinidad. The only alteration of schedule noted in the paper was the postponement of bingo on October 9. Children went to school and played in the street as usual. Of passing note was the greeting of a journalist at the [Cheddi] Jagan threshold by [his] young “Joe” on his fourth birthday, brandishing an atomic-ray play gun!¹

Jai Narine Singh, then minister of local government and social welfare, recalled the behavior of the invading troops on the ninth. “The British forces,” Narine Singh said, “landed in Guyana [sic] armed to the teeth. And, with bayonets fixed on their rifles and armoured cars patrolling the streets of Georgetown, the British soldiers generated an air of hostility towards the inhabitants, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to attack anyone who dared to raise his voice in protest against the military overthrow of the popularly elected Government of the people.”² The troops, Narine Singh noted, expected to be greeted by “a hostile people,” but they “did not have to fire a single shot, when they landed armed to the teeth.” According to him, the troops were “amazed” by the mood of the Guianese people, who “appeared to be in mourning. The streets were practically deserted with hardly anyone venturing outdoors. Even the curious children were kept in doors by their parents, and guardians, so that the British military, egged on by the few conservatives in the colony, would not have an excuse to demonstrate their firepower.”³

Despite their outward calm, the Guianese people were bracing themselves for a new phase in their political life after their heady experiment in limited self-government. It had begun formally in April 1953, when the colony conducted its first election with universal adult suffrage. This had been accomplished under the aegis of the new constitution recommended by the Waddington Commission. The People's Progressive Party was the best organized of the parties that contested the election. The other parties included the National Democratic Party and the Guiana National Party. Unlike the others, the National Democratic Party and the Guiana National Party, the PPP had a colonywide organization and offered an extensive program that promised progressive change. Its leading personages were its founders Cheddi and Janet Jagan, and Forbes Burnham. Although Dr. Jagan had no formally designated position in the party, he was its acknowledged leader.

Two weeks before the historic April 27 election, a new governor arrived to assume his duties in the colony. Sir Alfred Savage had been the governor of Barbados, where he had enjoyed cordial relationships with that colony's politicians, including trade unionist Grantley Adams, who later became the premier and head of government. Savage took comfort from the knowledge that Adams had warmly recommended him to his colleagues in Guiana, clearly an asset in his difficult assignment. The new governor, however, had no deep understanding of the political quagmire into which he had been thrust.

Recognizing that the old political arena was going to be transformed, the PPP undertook an aggressive colonywide election campaign. Janet Jagan proved herself to be a genius at political organizing and laid the foundation for a stunning victory. The party nominated candidates in all of the twenty-four constituencies, winning eighteen of them. Its principal opposition, the National Democratic Party, won two seats and independents triumphed in the remaining four. Dr. Jagan faced three opponents in his Port Mourant constituency but won 82 percent of the votes that were cast. Burnham received 74 percent of the votes in his Georgetown constituency. Observing the results from a distance, the American consul general, who resided in Trinidad, noted the “substantial one-sidedness” in favor of the PPP. He thought the party's success “may be attributed in large measure to cohesive and effective party organization, against which there were aligned only splintered opponents.”⁴

In its election campaign the PPP presented itself as a reformist party, one that was stridently nationalist in its ideological orientation. But in the context of the British Guiana of 1953, to espouse self-determination and independence for the colony was almost tantamount to engaging in subversive activity in the eyes of the imperial country and its local officials and allies. In its campaign literature, the party characterized the colony as “merely a department, a fragment in the overall pattern of [British] domination extending through the West Indies, Africa, Malaya, etc.” British Guiana, the party maintained, “has no independent voice in its own affairs.” Since “all problems and solutions” in the colony “are subjected to supervision by the imperialist rulers,” the “problems arising in it will always be solved in a way suitable to imperialists.” Understanding that political power resided in the hands of the metropolitan country, the PPP asserted that its task was to formulate “a policy which can work under these conditions of dependence.” Consequently, “such a policy will be able to cater only for reforms, for patches on the torn and rugged fabric of colonial reality.” Such obstacles notwithstanding,

the struggle for independence must not waver. All over the world the people of the colonies are fighting for independence. In Malaya, in Africa, in Indo China, the fire burns brightly. We who live in the West Indies and British Guiana must consider ourselves one unit in the international colonial liberation movement; we must fight for independence; striking blow after blow at the imperialist stronghold, weakening it and finally breaking loose from the shackles.⁵

Such rhetoric had threatening implications for the continuation of British rule in Guiana. But the policy proposals that the PPP issued during the campaign were notably reformist in tone and emphasis. There was, for example, no plan to expropriate land for the benefit of the landless. Instead, the party proposed to “carry out a program of land reclamation whereby large amounts of land along the coastlands and rivers abandoned to bush and swamp can be made available for agriculture.” It promised “an equitable distribution of agricultural lands” and a “special emphasis” on “a more effective utilization” of those resources. The PPP also planned to create an agricultural bank with the capital to provide credit for “the acquisition, development, and maintenance of agricultural holdings.” It endorsed “proper and adequate salaries and wages” for workers and said it “will do everything to encourage the growth of strong and militant Trade Unions to protect and improve the conditions of employment of all workers.”

The party announced that it stood for “free education for all” and promised that under its administration “we will see that equal educational opportunities are provided for all regardless of race, creed, social origin, income, or geographical locations.” Deploring the “present rut into which the housing situation all over the colony has been allowed to sink,” the PPP advocated the construction of government-assisted housing. It committed itself to abrogating “the existing laws and regulations which restrict the civil liberties of the people such as banning of individuals, books, films.”⁶

These and other proposals by the PPP, such as its support for free trade and universal adult suffrage and the “public ownership of all public utilities,” were hardly revolutionary in spirit. Its plans lacked any marked ideological orientation and were responding to the needs of the colony and its people, particularly those whose interests had been traditionally ignored by the imperial authorities. These were the sentiments of young nationalists troubled by the enormity of the problems British Guiana confronted, energized by the challenges they posed, and impatient with the slow pace of change. Noisy and rhetorically pugnacious, the party's spokespersons frightened the guardians of the status quo, creating in them a paranoia that warped their judgment about its plans for the country.

The opposition to the PPP was led most vociferously by the press. In a society where the written word carried excessive authority, newspapers exerted a major influence on the construction and shaping of the political consciousness of the citizenry. The Daily Argosy, perhaps the most stridently anti-ppp, consistently condemned its leaders as communist, declined to endorse any of its candidates for office, and derisively characterized the party's electoral symbol as “a poison cup.” In addition to the formidable opposition of the press, the PPP confronted the strong resistance of the Manpower Citizens Association (MPCA), the union that represented the workers in the sugar industry. Led by Lionel A. Luckhoo, a prominent barrister of Indian descent, the union funded the publication of a strong indictment of the PPP in a supplement to the daily newspapers just days before the election. The hierarchy of the influential Christian denominations, especially the Anglican and Roman Catholic churches, also voiced their opposition to the PPP.

The PPP'S spectacular victory at the polls produced anxiety and fear among its opponents. The elite groups viewed it as an aberration, a triumph of evil forces, and the advent of Armageddon. The Daily Argosy blamed the disappointing electoral results on people in the towns and villages who “nurture a kind of dull resentment against authority in all its forms.” The paper recognized that some of the voters nursed grievances, but it wondered “how far these grievances and frustrations are genuine, and how far their own fault does not matter; it is enough that they are resentful and hence lean towards the party that preaches revolutionary change and promises something for nothing.” The Argosy thought the rural people and the sugar industry workers were victims of propaganda directed at the “ignorant.” These people were “isolated by illiteracy and from the vehicles of truth.” It also denounced “the disgraceful apathy” of those who had much to lose in the event of a PPP victory. Such persons preferred their “leisure and cocktail parties to the hard work of political organization and the exposure of the electioneering platform.”⁷

Many other voices of privilege were contemptuous of the political judgment of the unlettered members of society. These people had been manipulated by the PPP, its critics alleged, and duped into believing that the promised land was at hand. A. G. King, himself a defeated candidate for election, thought the voters had been “swayed by inflammatory speeches and silly promises.” C. Cambridge and C. Beresford, both trades unionists, said the PPP had been swept into office on a wave “of irresponsibility and ignorance.” John T. Clarke, the deputy mayor of New Amsterdam, seemed to agree. He claimed “the people were fooled so much by the PPP that they were not prepared to listen to anyone else but a PPP candidate. . . . When you go among people some of whom are illiterate and make all of these promises and say 'if I become the government, I would do this and do that' it would be difficult for people who are illiterate not to accept your promises.”⁸ Illiterate Guianese had, of course, voted their own interests, as had those who condemned them. Some PPP candidates undoubtedly made electoral promises that could not be kept, but their opponents offered blandishments of another sort to their sympathizers, assuring them that threats to the status quo would be contained.

The PPP'S gospel of change was its most important asset. Cheddi Jagan had made a reputation in the old Legislative Council as the voice of a new British Guiana. Charismatic, loved and respected especially by the Indo-Guianese people, Jagan had become a messiah to many. The daily newspapers' vitriolic assaults on Jagan and the PPP only enhanced his stature among supporters as well as the appeal of the PPP. D. P. Debidin, a solicitor and former member of the Legislative Council, complained that the “silly propaganda of the newspapers was the nutrient, the oxygen, that supplied . . . virility to the party.” Debidin continued:

The editors and newspaper proprietors were certainly devoid of the most elementary principles of psychology. If a member of the Executive of the PPP coughed, it was published. The columns of adverse criticisms of the PPP which appeared daily, especially in the Argosy, was [sic] grand publicity, and free at that, far better than which the Party could not have hoped. The Graphic newspaper ran daily in the largest type a banner advertisement to the effect that “you cannot be a member of the PPP and be a Guianese.” All the PPP supporters had to do at public meetings was to show who owned the newspapers, and tell the people that the more they criticised them was the greater reason for the people to support them.⁹

To the Daily Argosy, the Graphic, and other conservative organs of opinion, Cheddi Jagan was an unredeemable communist villain. But to his fervent supporters, he was the champion of the exploited, the dispossessed, and the forgotten. “As soon as Mr. Jagan got into the Legislative Court” [sic], said one proponent, “he first considered the poor, the aged.” Seen in this light, the people at the margins of society voted for the promise of a better future.¹⁰

Writing to Prime Minister Winston Churchill shortly after the PPP'S electoral victory, the secretary of state for the colonies, Oliver Lyttleton, admitted that “the situation gives me cause for anxiety.” Still, he noted, “The Governor sees no grounds for undue pessimism provided that the members of the People's Progressive Party who become Ministers are prepared to work within the framework of the Constitution and to see reason on financial and economic matters.” The secretary of state was reassured that the PPP'S plan for governing “is no more extreme than that of the Opposition [Labour Party] here.” Moreover, “it contains none of the usual communist aims and it advocates industrial development through the encouragement of foreign capital.” Lyttleton was troubled, however, that some of the PPP'S leaders “have been behind the Iron Curtain recently.” He respected the election results and wanted the party to have its chance to govern the colony. Nevertheless, the colonial authorities needed to “keep a close watch” on the ministers and act without delay “if they use their position to further the communist cause.” The secretary assured the prime minister that the...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Cheddi Jagan and the Politics of Power
• Copyright Page
• (Contents)
• (Tables, Illustrations, and Map)
• (Acknowledgments)
• (Introduction)
• (1) The Imperial Coup d'Etat
• (2) Containing Cheddi and Scapegoating Savage
• (3) Taking Stock
• (4) Imagining and Constructing a New Guiana
• (5) Searching for Cheddi and the PPP
• (6) The Politics and Trauma of Race
• (7) The Politics of Power
• (8) Fairbain Redux
• (Conclusion)
• (Epilogue)
• (Notes)
• (Bibliography)
• (Index)