There once was a man who made it his personal pilgrimage 62 years ago to visit every nook and cranny of this island to bring an important message to Jamaicans.
It was the values and attitudes messages that had been adorning the walls of classrooms of the earlier years. ‘Be honest’, ‘Be kind’, ‘Be punctual’, ‘Be respectful’, ‘Be courteous’.
This man incorporated those messages into the need for Jamaicans to understand that the true meaning of our newly acquired Independence went beyond flags and anthems and ska and sport.
He spoke it on street corners, in schools, in village squares, on roadsides.
The message was simple. Work hard, respect each other, love Jamaica, value our traditions ... so that Jamaica may flourish.
The name of that man was Clifford Clarence Campbell.
December 1, 1962 is well remembered by the Independence generation of Jamaicans as the date of the swearing-in of Jamaica’s first native-born governor general, Sir Clifford Campbell.
He took the oath of office at precisely 8 p.m., and his clipped voice and measured tones rang out clearly around the National Stadium. Thousands more across Jamaica followed the open-air ceremony being broadcast over our two radio stations, Radio Jamaica and the Jamaica Broadcasting Corporation.
It was one of the most defining moments of Jamaica’s history over the 62-year period of our Independence.
After August celebrations the country had been treading cautiously, but confidently into its first few months as a free nation. The crossover on the night of August 5 had carried a similar size crowd in the Stadium to watch the raising of our new flag and sing the new national anthem.
There was a flurry of international activities scripted to cement our status as a new nation. Prime Minister Sir Alexander Bustamante journeyed to London on September 6 to attend the Commonwealth Prime Ministers Conference. The Jamaica flag was hoisted at the United Nations. Ambassadors and high commissioners were being appointed. Countries around the world were establishing diplomatic relations with Jamaica.
But there was one major step still to be taken. In August, the former English governor, Sir Kenneth Blackburnem had been sworn in as governor general of independent Jamaica. Bustamante knew that the situation would have to be short lived.
It did not take much prodding from his trusted lieutenant Hugh Shearer to convince him that Clifford Campbell, a black man from rural Jamaica with grassroots connection and a Mico background was the ideal choice.
Campbell’s background spelt humble Jamaican. He was born on June 28, 1892, at Petersfield, Westmoreland, educated at the village elementary school, and later at Mico College.
All through October the choice of Campbell was kept a closely guarded secret between Bustamante and Shearer. However, this was Jamaica, word leaked out, and many refused to believe. The influential sectors (upper class) had been plugging for a brown or white man to succeed Sir Kenneth. ‘Black’ was not meant for King’s House, they said. King’s House had for centuries been the bastion of white colonial rule, high society prerogative, and stiff upper lips pursed to keep the so-called ‘lower classes’ out.
Bets were made that Busta’s choice would prove wrong. The upper St. Andrew veranda gossip mewed that his wife would be unable to manage the etiquette, graciousness, and social mannerisms demanded from the First Lady.
But things moved swiftly into place, and history was about to be made. The Queen announced the bombshell appointment from London on October 18. Campbell was knighted at Buckingham Palace and returned to Jamaica as Sir Clifford Campbell, GCMG.
His official swearing-in ceremony took place before an overflow crowd at the Stadium. Sir Clifford immediately took up his office with gusto and began an island wide tour to impress upon Jamaicans the meaning of his appointment in the context of an Independent Jamaica that had thrown off colonial status.
He brought a message to Jamaicans that remain relevant and even more pertinent today since the passage of those 62 years.
In those early days everywhere Sir Clifford went he had a suitable moral for the school children – that his office represented their hopes and aspirations, that they must work hard, respect their elders, love Jamaica, value our traditions, and that they too could now become our prime ministers and governors general.
In Manchester he was welcomed at Prattville and stopped to speak to hundreds of residents at Pusey Hill, Lancaster, Hermitage, Frankfield, Grove Town.
The message was the same at the districts and the crossroads where the people poured out to see their black governor general. “Make the best of your education.” “It is the responsibility of everyone to build the nation spiritually and culturally.” At Campbell’s Castle he told them “we will face hardships but we will overcome”.
The same pace was kept up in St. Elizabeth and the other parishes. Untiringly he brought the message that we must give service “so that Jamaica may flourish. Sometimes he stood up on the bonnet of his motor car to address the crowds.
He proved equally at home in the ballroom of King’s House or on the plains of Savanna-la-Mar. He hosted royalty, heads-of-state, toured factories, visited hospitals, and presided over cocktail and dinners at King’s House with aplomb.
He attended race days at Caymanas, cricket at Sabina, dedicated church organs, opened clinics and schools, enjoyed a social drink or three, preached a good sermon, and possessed a vintage wit and casual assurance which were to prove a continuous magnet throughout his career.
On the eve of his retirement,December 1, 1973, he returned to the National Stadium and there, before another capacity crowd, Sir Clifford and Lady Campbell were given a fond farewell by Jamaicans from all walks of life. As his Austin Princess exited through the MacDonald Tunnel, tears were mixed with cheers from the massive gathering.
The Gleaner editorial of February 28, 1973, summed up the emotions of the country. “For more than 10 years Sir Clifford and Lady Campbell have adorned King’s House, the historic centre of rule. They have converted it over the years into an authentic symbol of Jamaica’s new national life. The country owes them a widespread, epochal debt of gratitude.”
He died in 1991 and was laid to rest beside Lady Alice in National Heroes’ Park. His resting place still awaits its monument.
Lance Neita is a public relations professional and author. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com [2] and lanceneita@hotmail.com [3]