In my article on “The colonial mindset and the CCJ” that was published on Sunday, April 27, I highlighted the fact that the desire to make the transition from the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council to the Caribbean Court of Justice was being articulated on the basis of an anti-colonial narrative.
The thrust of the article was to show that such a narrative failed to recognise that the identity of the West Indies was deeply colonial and that the philosophy of Eric Williams had confirmed this in the case of T&T.
Today, I will delve deeper into the philosophical underpinnings of the post-independence movement to demonstrate that the issue of identity has not changed much, and that the gold standard of institutional and personal recognition in the wider world for many prominent West Indian public personalities rests on a foundation of British colonial symbols and standards, notably the knighthood as well as membership of Her Majesty’s Privy Council.
The philosophy of Eric Williams about our identity and the type of constitutional system that we should adopt to suit that identity was expounded in a public lecture in Woodford Square on July 19, 1955 as follows:
“The Colonial Office does not need to examine its second hand colonial Constitutions. It has a Constitution at hand which it can apply immediately to Trinidad and Tobago. That is the British Constitution. Ladies and Gentlemen, I suggest to you that the time has come when the British Constitution, suitably modified, can be applied to Trinidad and Tobago. After all, if the British Constitution is good enough for Great Britain, it should be good enough for Trinidad and Tobago.”
Williams clearly adopted the view that, as a people, we did not have any unique identity or institutions and that we should very easily adopt the British Constitution “suitably modified” in order to advance ourselves as a nation. This was the prevailing thinking at the time of our independence.
Concurrent with that, there is also a viewpoint from Norman Manley in Jamaica about institutional identity that is not entirely dissimilar to that of Williams. Speaking in the Jamaican House of Representatives on January 24, 1962, Premier Norman Manley had this to say:
“Let us not make the mistake of describing as colonial, institutions which are part and parcel of the heritage of this country. If we have any confidence in our own individuality and our own personality we would absorb these things and incorporate them into our being and turn them to our own use as part of the heritage we are not ashamed of.”
Unlike Williams, Norman Manley was making the case that the existing institutions of the colonial era had evolved as part of Jamaica’s development and were, therefore, indigenous. Manley was clear that it would be a “mistake” to regard these institutions as being “colonial,” but rather he regarded them as being part of the “heritage” of Jamaica.
Williams’ argument was that if it was good enough for Great Britain, it would be good enough for T&T. Manley’s argument was that it was not colonial, but instead formed part of the heritage of Jamaica. Whichever way you may wish to treat these two statements, they highlight the fact that our institutional base has a British colonial foundation.
Whether we accept it as part of our heritage by virtue of the forces of historical evolution or whether we accept it as part of a “suitably modified” importation that would be good enough for us because it was good enough for Great Britain, we have to stare its persistence in the face and ask: Why?
There is a very good reason why so many of the prominent West Indian personalities in the fields of politics, law, public affairs and the like have accepted knighthoods from Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on the advice of different prime ministers in the region. Additionally, there are countries in our region that have embedded the concept of the knighthood into their own national awards.
When there is conversation around the subject of breaking with our colonial past and completing the cycle of our independence, it is necessary to vigorously interrogate such narratives. Examine the oath that is taken by parliamentarians at the opening of their Parliaments in those countries that are not republics in our region. They all swear allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and her heirs and successors.
These are the same parliamentarians who are expected to pass constitutional amendments to effect the abolition of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council and replace it with the Caribbean Court of Justice. There is no disrespect for the CCJ in advancing this debate; the reality is that the proponents of the CCJ have to come to terms with the persistence of the colonial mindset in our midst in order to understand why there is an institutional disconnect between what they are advocating and the pervasive nature of the colonial mindset.
Williams and Norman Manley captured the essence of this issue as leaders of the independence movement in our region. The collapse of the Federation forced independence upon a region that still cannot come to terms with meaningful regional unity, and clings dearly to British symbols and institutions for the symbolic and institutional expression of who we are.
If any examination were to be undertaken of the prominent public officials across the region who are advocates for the CCJ to replace the Privy Council or who serve in positions of great distinction in public affairs, there would be no shortage of knighthoods associated with them.
The challenge for the region is to understand that the colonial mindset is not a curse, it is an identity. Fundamental constitutional change is unlikely to come to the region because of it. Both Williams and Norman Manley have as their subtext the fact that the only institutional identity that we may have is a colonial one which forms part of our heritage.
If that is the case, the question must be asked: If our Constitutions and institutions are part of our heritage or have been suitably modified to suit us, then what are we really trying to reform?