Apropos of the discussion of the previous few weeks, of how and why people behave the way they do in a/our social system, Prof Richard Drayton's distinguished lecture, "Whose constitution? Law justice and history in the Caribbean," delivered for the Judicial Education Institute on March 2, provides a fascinating piece of the puzzle. (It's available at www.ttlawcourts.org.)
Prof Drayton, a historian, was born in Guyana, grew up in Barbados, and was educated at Harvard, Yale, Oxford and Cambridge. His lecture began with the premise of a regional "profound and unacknowledged constitutional crisis." More specifically, "many of our citizens, despite giving the right to vote, do not have a sense of ownership of, and a duty of care toward the state, society and the law."
This is almost Naipaulian in its upending of notions of a "Caribbean" culture or civilisation. Nonetheless, the lecture is an argument for the entrenchment of the CCJ, as opposed to the Privy Council as the region's final court of appeal. I disagree with the conclusion but the historical insight is bracing and timely.
One just needs to look around regional prison and justice systems to see how alienated people are from the institutions of the societies to which they supposedly belong. If one case is emblematic of this it's the recent conviction of Michaeline Wall, a woman born with a congenital medical condition, who was charged with possession of marijuana and faced either a 12-month sentence or a $2,500 fine.
Ms Wall's statement that marijuana relieved her constant pain, despite its legitimate medical use in the US, UK and elsewhere, backed by copious research, was ignored. It's illegal here. And the jails are packed with young (mainly black) men who have had their lives ruined for possession of small amounts of marijuana (while murderers, child molesters and corrupt politicians roam free).
The problem began, says Drayton, with the punitive posture of the law to Caribbean subjects, rather than a civil, consensual relation–"Our societies were forged less from the love of liberty than by generations of violence sanctioned by statute and common law." The key issue is that "very few subjects of the English Crown in the tropics were legal persons...from the seventeenth century to about 1830, only white propertied men who were communicant Anglicans were fully included as rights bearers."
The primary power relation (he continues) was manifest as an absolute control over the slave, and later indentured worker, by the owner/employer. The tradition continued after emancipation in Crown Colony Government, which applied those principles to the whole society. And this presumption and practice of absolute power over the bodies of subalterns ("sub-persons") imbued the newly forming mechanisms of authority (police, law, overseer, health, education).
Regional independence constitutions, instead of addressing this perversion in law, retained it through "ouster" and "savings" clauses. These transferred rights of the sovereigns to governments, and protected archaic and brutal pre-existent legislation from review.
The mentality which brought this about was a legacy of Crown Colony government which infected the men (mainly) who wrote the Independence constitutions. Rather than delivering their nations from colonial injustice, as Drayton puts it, "almost every colonial premier and postcolonial Prime Minister wanted exactly such absolute power."
All this is used as thrust for Drayton's conclusion which is the necessity of a CCJ to develop a more indigenous tradition of jurisprudence, since the Privy Council adjudicates with reference to the evolving law of its precincts–the UK. This is where I part ways with the professor.
He correctly identifies the pathological trait of the independence politicians, and their successors–they, in effect, wanted to be the oppressor, not to end oppression. But he recommends as a cure for this syndrome the complete severing of ties with the UK/metropole, rather than the desire (expressed by Albert Gomes et al) to be a self-ruling full partner in the Empire/Commonwealth rather than a satellite entity. (Which position is the correct one seems to be evident given the last 50 years of independence and emigration statistics.)
Drayton evades this conclusion by not taking his observations to their logical terminus: the new ruling classes were indoctrinated by the same regimes of thought as the independence leaders. The desire for control over the subaltern, to relive the humiliations of colonialism, but as the brute rather than the brutalised, pervaded and pervades, the very atmosphere of authority in these islands. From policemen, store clerks and civil servants, to Cabinet ministers, men of commerce, and professionals (doctors, lawyers, accountants)–the desire and practice of brutality remain.
It is from this human resource pool that would come the men (mainly) who would be charged with the development of the Caribbean jurisprudence. It's understandable why Prof Drayton does not come to this conclusion–he is speaking to contemporary legal and political establishments which believe themselves to be more enlightened than their predecessors. However, as the state of the nation, and the region, show, it ain't so, Joe.
The main issue facing the societies riddled with crime, dysfunctional schools, abuse, violence, and institutionalised ignorance can't be solved by falling back on indigenous resources, which Drayton calls "secondary decolonisation." Quite the opposite: why develop theories when workable ones already exist? Cars from Japan run on Caribbean roads. Metropolitan medicines cure local diseases. American computers transmit Trini information.
This isn't to say there should be no local adaptation or innovation, but severing ties with the past, and the present of the coloniser/metropole, has proven to be disastrous here and elsewhere. Ironically, the issue is emblematised in Professor Drayton: the brightest and best leave, and often adopt a patronising metropolitan liberal attitude to local issues. Here, the very people who kept the savings and ouster clauses are reborn every generation to guide societies to fear intellect and innovation, and chase them away or strangle them.