Cedric Wilson, Contributor

In 1969 when Desmond Dekker's song Israelite shot to the number one spot on the British pop chart and registered its presence among the top 10 in the United States, he achieved something that no other Jamaican artiste had done before. It was the first time a reggae song was embraced enthusiastically on both sides of the Atlantic.

At that time, a brutal war of attrition was on between Israel and Egypt over Sinai. The Egyptians had lost the Sinai Peninsula to the Israelis in the Six-Day War during the sweltering summer of 1967 and were intent on getting it back. The international popularity of the song, therefore, owes much to the prevailing pro-Israeli sentiment of the day, since apart from the line "Poor me Israelite," very few people outside of Jamaica could decipher the lyrics which were rendered in classic Jamaican creole. The song, in fact, had nothing to do with the conflict in the Middle East. It employed an old Jamaican saying, "poor me Israelite," to depict the woeful struggle for survival of the man from the working class.

Declaration of hope

"Poor me Israelite" is an old expression which Jamaicans have used to draw a parallel between the Jews of the Old Testament and the suffering of the masses. The expression captures an interesting aspect of the spirit and outlook of the people. "Poor me Israelite" further alludes to the identification of Jamaicans with the Jews of the Old Testament in that there is a subterranean anticipation for a messiah who will liberate society from economic captivity. The expression is, therefore, not just a laconic wail of self-pity, but is also a declaration of hope connected to the arrival of a deliverer.

Politically, Jamaica has had its share of messiahs. There were those who sang "We will follow Bustamante till we die" after he reportedly bared his chest before colonial rifles in the 1938 upheaval and shouted: "Shoot me, but leave my people alone!" When the gap between the rich and poor had reached its bleakest extreme, Michael Manley, charismatic and eloquent, exploded on the scene as 'the Joshua' to lead the people to the promise land. Then, when Manley seemed to have lost his way and was taking the country down the dubious road of socialism, Edward Seaga emerged as a deliverer, specially anointed to guide the country to the highway of prosperity.

Jamaicans disenchanted

Much has happened since, and Jamaicans have become disenchanted with the slow pace of social improvement and economic development. Yet, just when some would have guessed that messianic yearnings had evaporated, Portia Simpson Miller became prime minister. The vast majority of people at the bottom of the income pyramid immediately saw in her the potential for change and placed on her the mantle of messiah. After all, she too was poor and, therefore, more than any other prime minister before her, should have the capacity to address the needs of the people at the bottom of the society. This demonstrates an important characteristic of Jamaican politics: The electorate loves messiahs and historically, has voted them into power.

Another characteristic of Jamaican politics is that parties are not voted into power. It is a subtle point but the reality is that parties are voted out, not in. Certainly, there is the theory of scarce benefits and how influential it is in assisting political parties to secure victory in national elections. However, while there is no denying that the 'scarce benefit factor exists' in so-called political garrisons, arguably, it is the most overrated notion in Jamaican politics.

In recent times, it seldom seems to make any significant difference in electoral outcomes. The electorate has now become sophisticated; he has learnt the game. He now understands the psychological manipulation inherent in party politics and therefore has no qualms about taking scarce benefits from one party then voting for another.

In essence, electoral outcomes in Jamaica are based on a simple principle: "Messiahs are voted in and parties are voted out." When a messiah leads the Opposition and the electorate is weary of the ruling party, the result is a landslide at the poll in favour of the Opposition. It happened in 1972 with the People's National Party (PNP) and Michael Manley, and in 1980 with Edward Seaga and the Jamaica Labour Party. The dilemma the Jamaican voters now face is that people are tired of the ruling PNP, but the messiah belongs to the party.

Storm of criticism

Recent revelation that Trafigura, a Dutch oil trading company, contributed J$31 million to the PNP campaign funds, has ignited a storm of criticism against the Simpson Miller administration. The accusation of corruption is hard to dismiss and the embattled Mrs. Simpson Miler has, rightly so, directed that the funds be returned. But the damage has already been done.

The question now is, can Mrs. Simpson Miller still pull off an electoral victory? Political analysts have pointed to the elusive variable called 'time.' With every tick of the clock, her chances fade - the weariness of the electorate with the party increases with time. Do not forget - the role of a messiah is a precarious, if not tragic, one. For Jesus, it was the same crowd that hailed him with ecstatic hosannas on Palm Sunday that screamed for his blood a mere five days later. And remember, Jesus, according to the Christian tradition, unlike Mrs. Simpson Miller, was not a mere mortal - he was perfect.

Cedric Wilson is an economics consultant who specialises in market regulations. Send your comments to: conoswil@hotmail.com