Class, colour and political change
Published: Sunday | January 28, 2007

Edward Seaga
A number of consultants on the Taking Responsibility project being undertaken at the University of the West Indies to identify the forces which have shaped Jamaica since Independence have pulled out of the project because they feel that socio-cultural forces have been ignored. By this they mean particularly, race, colour and class. They are quite correct in their analyses. But this does not in itself invalidate the approach of the Taking Responsibility team, which has emphasised the role of the econo- mic determinants, which loom larger in importance as economic hardship increases among he people.
Both factors are important
The answer is that both economic and socio-cultural factors are important. For those who are already settled economically, their concerns are focused sharply on how they are perceived or treated as persons of particular colour, class and race. Those who are still economically deprived, on the other hand, focus their concerns on how they can secure a better economic future. Those who are socially ambitious in the middle class, see their threats and the obstacles they must overcome in socio-cultural terms as colour, class and race. This is not to say that the economy may not also be threatening, but they have some economic cushion on which to rest if problems arise.
This group values wealth, but it also values the extent to which the leadership fits their ideals: socially, educationally, culturally, "browning" and are already acculturated to the patterns of conduct and the values of that grouping.
The 'grass roots' people of urban and rural societies who are unsure as to how they will educate their children and feed their families, or indeed, take care of themselves, put their economic needs first. Those who are to lead them must convince them not only that they have programmes and projects to help them, but that they understand their plight and will fight with them. This is a credibility factor.
The original division of the two political parties - along class, colour and racial lines, with the People's National Party (PNP) garnering a solid core support from the middle-class, and the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) attracting 'grass roots' people and the money class - was based on the image of Norman Manley, the quintessential middle class icon and Alexander Bustamante, the ultimate populist leader. It would have been difficult to create fictional characters more perfect for these roles than these two original leaders in real life.
Manley used Fabian ('gradual') socialism as a drawing card for middle class support. This group was excited by the nationalistic principles of this brand of socialism: nationalisation of the utilities and land; political independence and the ability of local leadership, that is, educated brown and black people, to run the affairs of the country.
Bustamante saw the principal need of the people, not in terms of who owned what or who ran what, but whether they would use their personal or corporate wealth and their positions of control to improve the desperate conditions of the masses.
That was the dichotomy until the 1970s. Michael Manley changed this formulation by moving up the socialist scale to more radical socialism versus the softer Fabian mode, or as Ralph Brown called it, 'mouth water' socialism. The more radical version had to confront the class problem, which is inherently interdigitated with colour and race, since egalitarianism, or equality of all, is a cardinal principle of socialism.
To confront this problem
Manley had to unhinge the PNP from its attachment as the party of the middle class. He did so not by focusing on class attributes, but by stripping them of some or their comforts, conveniences and income to give to the needy.
The strategy to give effect to this was to reduce imports of consumer goods by restrictions, bringing the lovers of 'cornflakes' to the level of the people whose staple was banana porridge. At the same time, he opened the valve on job creation by exceptionally high budgetary expenditure, which succeeded in increasing the number of jobs in 1975 by 59,000, by far the highest ever. These were predominantly public sector jobs - expanding the civil service and social programmes. This was fulfilment of the strategy to improve the life of the poor. Hence, the 'small man' would become more comfortable while the 'big man' would be uncomfortable.
Unfortunately, Michael Manley's social theorising did not fit with the harshness of economic reality. The radical threats from party leaders as to the intended direction of the party sent a powerful signal to not only the target group of social elites, but to the investment and entrepreneurial groups as well that worse was to come. They secured their own future by buying foreign exchange and exporting it. By 1976, the net international reserves of the Bank of Jamaica were negative. More imports were restricted and the political rhetoric intensified. Soon, there was little foreign exchange to import consumer goods, raw materials and capital goods, as well. Factories closed, followed by shops and the great migration of the repository of generations of entrepreneurial, managerial and administrative skills took Manley's advice to leave the country if they did not like his policies.
The class difference narrowed, fulfilling, in part, the socialist objective. But the economic repercussions grew enormously as joblessness increased to 270,200 in 1980 compared to 184,000 in 1971. The bloated budget could no longer sustain the horde of new employees financially. But they were retained in their positions, while the private sector contracted its labour force.
The result of this period of theoretical restructuring of the class system was:
1. Restructuring the highest unemployment ever;
2. Restructuring the highest fiscal deficit ever;
3. Restructuring the highest inflation (cost of living) ever;
4. Restructuring the worst record of economic growth, (substantialnegative growth for seven of eight years) ever.
This record was transformational. It shifted the focus of a good many in the middle class from their socio- cultural ambitions, to economic preservation. That shift forced a good deal of the middle class support built by N. W. Manley to abandon the PNP and shift to the JLP because of the policies of Michael Manley.
Although Michael Manley's impact on Jamaican society was catastrophic economically and, to a lesser extent, to the middle-class base of the PNP, it also created a strong residue of positive identification for those who had nothing to lose and gained nothing economically, but who could now feel that they had an identity.
Because the class, colour and racial elites of society had been trampled by their leader, it gave many the feeling that they were inheriting some of that power to defy authority and to demand respect. As Max Romeo's hit song, used by the PNP says, "Let the power fall on I, O Lord, let the power fall on I." This legacy had its antecedent in the black power movement and the militancy of the 'rude boy' era (Derrick Morgan's Tougher than Tough reminds us that "rudies don't fear"), both of the late 1960s, which has left the society in a position where it can no longer control run-away crime and rampant indiscipline.
Two lessons may be learned from this:
"Whatever the failings of Norman Manley in leading from the top with disdain, as in his failure to incorporate the people into the planning of the Federation, he truly understood the sensitivities of the middle class and recognised that he should act festina lente, ("make haste slowly), in introducing drastic change. Michael Manley went the opposite route, treating the middle class with disdain while embracing and planning with the masses. Of the two strategies, Norman Manley's would have had the better chance of ultimate success;
"The development matrix is indeed a mix of socio-cultural and economic forces all interacting in an interplay to find a stable mix. Using one element only as a radical dynamic upsets the holistic, organic structure, flattening the whole pack of dominoes."
I once had a discussion with Michael Manley in which I said to him, "The most successful route for development was to look back and see that all children were wearing shoes." His answer was, "I want to see them all wearing shoes now."
These are two peaks of the same mountain, both aiming at the same sky. But one can be climbed to the mountain top; the other, as history has shown, cannot.
Edward Seaga is a former Prime Minister. He is now a Distinguished Fellow at the UWI. Email: odf@uwimona.edu.jm