Lance Neita | Politics taking over our addresses, and our lives

I had no idea that I lived somewhere other than my known place of abode until a friend called from Kingston and asked, “How is your constituency?” Up to then I was very comfortable with my address, but apparently people are now beginning to be identified not by road, district or town but by their constituency.

After telling my friend that I had not formed one yet (constituency I mean), the realisation hit me that we have become so politicised that its commonplace to accept that life in Jamaica begins with your political alienation and that geographical boundaries are being consumed by constituency boundaries.

I take pride in the district that mothered me, the town in which I was raised, the parish in which I was born. I am quite aware of the constituencies in which I have lived, but this level of awareness ebbs and flows according to election time when I have to recheck the post office noticeboard to confirm the location of my polling booth.

My constituency demarcation is secondary to where I live. I object to being declared anyone’s constituent. We are born as citizens of Jamaica, and to help the process along we learn early in school that our town has a name, the town is in a parish, and in case you have forgotten, a parish is further located in a county, either Cornwall, Middlesex or Surrey. That kind of ID parade makes it easy to develop a sense of personal identity and a sense of pride in whatever may be the achievements and accomplishments of your birthplace.

I have a great deal of respect and admiration for my current member of parliament and indeed have been fortunate to enjoy associations with many others who represent different constituencies and opposite parties. As my MP, I expect him or her to display strong qualities of leadership, humility, dedication, selflessness, and real ability. As for me, I just want to be regarded as a resident of a community with my name and persona intact, certainly not simply a voter or a constituent.

We have a bad habit of thinking in terms of constituency boundaries whenever projects or benefits are to be deployed.

In such instances, people tend to get lost against the backdrop of a political master plan that is drawn up to place development opportunities strategically in constituencies for vote-catching purposes rather than for the benefit of the greater Jamaica.

The day when your letters start arriving with name, town, PO Box, followed by your constituency, you will know we have had it and we are all firmly political animals.

PARTY SYMBOLS AND NAMES

With a general election expected in 2025, its instructional to look back at some of the historical antecedents that led up to the institutionalisation of our political party movement.

In 1940, it was a no-brainer for the PNP to adopt the term ‘comrade’ when the fledgling party declared itself as a socialist organisation following a lengthy debate at its annual conference at the Coke Memorial Hall.

At that time the term comrade or companion had become popular among the socialist movement in the 20th century when socialism was gaining momentum around the leftist world where it became strongly associated in public consciousness with Soviet-style communism.

So, like the good brothers all over the leftist world, the PNP adapted the egalitarian term ‘Comrade’, and the symbol of the raised fist, or clenched fist, as their standard-bearer. Needless to say, this became low-hanging fruit for the JLP in those early days when Jamaicans, thoroughly aligned with Western thinking, were taught to fear communism and the “red under the bed”.

Of interest is that the PNP, which had been launched by Norman Manley in 1938, had contemplated for a while using the name the Jamaica Labour Party, or the Jamaican National Party. Norman Manley made it clear in his speech at the launch, however, that he preferred to “call it a ‘people’s party’ because it will serve the masses of the country.”

But a twist of history occurred, as when it came to naming the other party, in 1943, Alexander Bustamante told his colleagues that he wanted two words in the name, Jamaica and labour. Someone then said, “Let us call it Jamaica Labour Party”, and so it was that the same name that the PNP had rejected became the banner of the JLP.

Now the JLP’s one major symbol is the V-sign, two outstretched fingers, borrowed from England’s Sir Winston Churchill, who used it to rally his nation to victory in World War II.

V-SIGN

The V-sign lost some popularity to the freedom bell when the JLP adopted that as their election symbol in 1961 for the referendum. It is in some trouble today, thanks to the famous Warmington finger still making the rounds. Any attempt to shrug off the finger as a mistaken two finger V-sign was stymied by that photograph a few years ago which seems to clearly show Warmy sticking it to the media.

Either way, Jamaica always stands up admirably to the test of going to the polls – although this time we may see an all-time low voter turnout. I hope that’s not the case. The parties need to take politics to the higher ground if they want to attract the fence sitters; depending on the baseline for votes is not good enough.

Take a look back at the first general election under adult suffrage 80 years ago. This was the year when the vast majority of Jamaicans were about to dip their fingers into voters’ ink for the first time.

Voting was now regarded as a special privilege, and new voters on that first election day went to the extremes to find their polling booths and cast their vote.

Famous educator J. J. Mills recalled that early on the morning of polling he saw two elderly ladies walking around the Mico College polling centre. Later on he saw them inspecting the Practising School stations. And still later, about 2 pm, they again made an investigative circuit of the college. He asked them what was their trouble, and the older lady complained that from 7 a.m. she and her friend had been searching for their names, but no one had come forward to help them.

The lady said that if they walked until midnight they were going to vote. Today’s stand-off from voting by the so-called articulate minority pales in significance and shame to the pride and joy felt by the humble and unlearned who overwhelmed the polling stations on that memorable first day.

We owe it to our democracy to try to regain the 70 per cent levels of 1962, and the 80 per cent level recorded in 1980. No Government can feel happy sitting on a 20 per cent mandate to secure themselves in office. And the people cannot afford to be comfortable with a minority proportion Government conducting the affairs of the country this time, last time, or next time around.

Lance Neita is an author, historian, and public relations veteran. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and lanceneita@hotmail.com