Pro­fes­sor Rose-Marie
Belle An­toine

Au­gust 8 marks the death of Makan­dal Daa­ga, leader of the 1970 Black Pow­er Move­ment in Trinidad and To­ba­go. Daa­ga chal­lenged the sta­tus quo that per­pet­u­at­ed un­der-de­vel­op­ment based on eth­nic­i­ty, lead­ing a mass up­ris­ing which saw In­di­ans and Afro-Trinida­di­ans unit­ing in a his­toric move­ment for change.

Daa­ga and his com­rades were dis­il­lu­sioned by the then black PNM gov­ern­ment which they be­lieved had not done enough to em­pow­er the black/non-white mass­es.

The reins of pow­er and wealth re­mained large­ly in the hands of a few. The move­ment ini­ti­at­ed a change in con­scious­ness about race in­equities in the coun­try. Be­fore then, eg it was ac­cept­able for banks and oth­ers to hire on­ly “light skinned” per­sons.

Some mis­take Black Pow­er as be­ing mere­ly about black pride. Daa­ga and thinkers like CLR James, recog­nised that it was much deep­er.

It is about ad­dress­ing struc­tur­al in­equities in so­ci­eties strat­i­fied by class di­vi­sions sup­port­ed by ma­nip­u­la­tive and di­vi­sive race par­a­digms. True black em­pow­er­ment could on­ly come about by eq­ui­table de­vel­op­men­tal mod­els.

Daa­ga and his NJAC par­ty were shunned by the black es­tab­lish­ment and mid­dle class­es. They nev­er seemed com­fort­able with its dis­rup­tion of the sta­tus quo.

As a teenag­er I re­call the scorn heaped at those dashi­ki-wear­ers – “Go back to Africa”. African wear is a pop­u­lar fash­ion state­ment to­day, but is the “good trou­ble” that goes with black-em­pow­er­ment which John Lewis pro­mot­ed ac­cept­ed? The Black Pow­er Move­ment was stopped by mil­i­tary force.

The un­der-served--the dis­pos­sessed, re­main large­ly in­vis­i­bilised and mar­gin­alised, but re­cent­ly, they protest­ed. Many felt these youths, main­ly from iden­ti­fi­able de­pressed com­mu­ni­ties, were trou­ble­mak­ers and “crim­i­nals” who “de­serve it.” When a preg­nant black woman was killed, they asked--what was Ver­nel­la do­ing there?

“She look­ing for trou­ble.”

We hear vic­tim-bash­ing from our own black broth­ers and sis­ters: “If you want a nice car, get a job”? “Why you al­low your­self to get preg­nant/beat­en up?”

“We gave free ed­u­ca­tion, you don’t want to work, go to school --I did it”-- are oth­er pop­u­lar pub­lic nar­ra­tives. De­pen­den­cy is cer­tain­ly not the path­way to de­vel­op­ment of a peo­ple, but, if true em­pow­er­ing mech­a­nisms are not in place...Af­fir­ma­tive ac­tion is based on this recog­ni­tion that his­tor­i­cal in­equities need tan­gi­ble, sup­port­ive tools to lev­el the play­ing field to­ward equal­i­ty. Pat­terns of dis­crim­i­na­tion and stereo­types born out of them are ac­knowl­edged and dis­rupt­ed, not ig­nored.

Those protests were about more than al­leged po­lice bru­tal­i­ty. Like Daa­ga, the dis­en­fran­chised were re­belling against the decades of so­cial in­jus­tice. They were high­light­ing the cru­el­ties and ironies of a sys­tem up­held by their own, but to which they did not be­long, or ben­e­fit. Daa­ga nev­er let go of his strug­gle to re­ha­bil­i­tate the eco­nom­ic and po­lit­i­cal struc­tures that per­pet­u­ate class and race-based dis­em­pow­er­ment. It led him to re-en­ter for­mal pol­i­tics in the PPP in 2010.

Equal­i­ty is not the same as equal treat­ment if peo­ple start from dif­fer­ent places. Per­haps we are now pre­pared to chal­lenge stereo­types. Yet, the most dam­ag­ing stereo­types are the ones that we do not see, nor wish to con­front. Our ed­u­ca­tion, ju­di­cial, fi­nanc­ing sys­tems etc are weak equal op­por­tu­ni­ty providers.

Com­ing from the wrong side of the bridge is not a death sen­tence, but the odds are stacked against you. Many are un­able to over­come them with­out mean­ing­ful sup­port and un­der­stand­ing. Some schools are “pres­tige” and have every re­source.

Oth­ers have falling roofs, no lap­tops and chil­dren who go to school hun­gry. Small black busi­ness­es have dif­fi­cul­ties get­ting loans, or for­eign ex­change.

The make-up of our prison, re­mand pop­u­la­tion and gan­ja ar­rests, tell sim­i­lar sto­ries. We turn a blind eye to these even as we join the band­wag­on of Black Lives Mat­ter. Re­serve some out­rage for those. Repa­ra­tions has fall­en on deaf ears be­cause we have not con­nect­ed the en­dur­ing his­tor­i­cal in­equities in our so­cial struc­tures and un­der­ly­ing sys­temic race-class bi­as­es.

Daa­ga saw these con­tra­dic­tions in our na­tion. He spent his life in Laven­tille ed­u­cat­ing youths about em­pow­er­ment. He lob­bied suc­cess­ful­ly for Eman­ci­pa­tion Day to be de­clared a sym­bol of up­lift­ment. Has his mes­sage been heard? This year I at­tend­ed an NJAC Black Pow­er 50th-Memo­r­i­al in the RC Cathe­dral. The crowd was sparse. There was no one from the UWI, or the Gov­ern­ment.

Racism is about pow­er re­la­tions. It is more than stereo­typ­ing, which is mere­ly a tool to up­hold that un­equal pow­er. It de­mands more than lip ser­vice.

Its en­e­mies and friends come in all shapes and colours. This is why, at­tend­ing Makan­dal Daa­ga’s fu­ner­al, the idea of a law schol­ar­ship emerged. Em­pow­er­ing young peo­ple and cre­at­ing change-agents to build more just so­ci­eties can make a dif­fer­ence.

The im­age of the proud black man or woman is one we should as­pire to, but it is not achieved by pre­tend­ing that the oth­er im­age – of the op­pressed, un-em­pow­ered, pover­ty-rid­den per­son does not ex­ist, or should be un­seen.

On­ly in con­fronting these deep so­ci­etal is­sues square­ly and hon­est­ly, can we move for­ward to re­al progress, gen­uine equal­i­ty, uni­ty and peace.

I hope one day true black he­roes and lead­ers like Daa­ga are for­mal­ly recog­nised with the re­spect and grat­i­tude that they de­serve. RIP Makan­dal and may your in­spi­ra­tional spir­it guide us.