by Dr Bhoedradatt Tewarie
I write this with a sense of uneasiness that 32 years have passed; yet something of this magnitude—Prime Minister and members of the House of Representatives taken hostage, one parliamentarian, Leo Des Vignes, whom I had gotten to know well, killed, 24 other citizens, casualties of this insurrection, a number of others wounded, millions of dollars lost in property and looting, parliamentary colleagues like Prime Minister Robinson, Selwyn Richardson and Selby Wilson violently brutalised, and every one of my colleagues who were held hostage, across the board, traumatise to different degrees by the event and the experience—yet something so horrible seems to be regarded as just one of those things...
TTT, the State television station, had been taken over also, and journalists like Jones P Madeira and Gideon Hanoomansingh found themselves wondering if they would come out alive. The records indicate that 72 insurgents accompanied Yasin Abu Bakr, the Jamaat leader, into TTT, while 42 under the leadership of Bilal Abdullah, stormed the Parliament and took ANR Robinson and others hostage. One hundred and fourteen citizens, armed and dangerous, a small army, were directly involved in an attempted coup and hostage-taking of parliamentarians and journalists. They have appeared in court, they have been tried in court, but after all is said and done, they walked free. Process that.
There has been nothing approaching the equivalent of a truth and reconciliation committee on this matter. The leader of the attempted coup, Abu Bakr, never apologised to anyone about anything. There may have been a sense of remorse by individuals among the 114 insurrectionists, but no public expression of remorse ever occurred to my knowledge. There was a Commission of Enquiry but beyond the report, little else.
The leaders of the opposition parties at the time, Patrick Manning and Basdeo Panday, were not present at the storming of Parliament. Nor was then-Speaker Nizam Mohammed. Lucky men. The subject of debate was corruption, focusing on the Tesoro scandal. Why July 27 was chosen, remains a mystery.
I was in Hong Kong with a T&T business delegation and Winston Dookeran called me on July 26 to give me an update on a note that I had before Cabinet. He said he was looking forward to the debate in Parliament the next day and indicated he probably would speak. I don’t think he got the chance. I was to preside over the signing of a Memorandum of Agreement between a Korean firm and a T&T firm in Hong Kong on Friday morning, July 27, and we also spoke of that.
On July 27, after the investment agreement was signed, I met with another set of potential investors, Americans with a textile business in Hong Kong. The next morning (July 28), at around 6.30 am, I was awakened by a pounding on the door of my hotel room. When I opened it, Arthur Lok Jack, a key member of the T&T business delegation, walked in a bit flustered, “Coup in Trinidad, coup in Trinidad. Abu Bakr taking over.”
With 12 hours’ time difference, this was 6.30 pm TT time on Friday the 27, Saturday morning in Hong Kong. We sat down and began to talk it through. Communication with T&T was difficult. We were due to visit Guangzhou, China, that day. A short boat ride away. Meetings had been set up. Everything was cancelled as I hastily made arrangements to return home. Hong Kong to Los Angeles, to New York, to Barbados, to Piarco. The fastest way. Air travel to T&T was problematic because of the uncertainties.
When I got to T&T, all ministerial operations were anchored at the Hilton. Many things were happening in a quest for resolution. Among government figures at the Hilton were Herbert Atwell, Anthony Smart and Dr Carson Charles and the two key military leaders were Brigadier Joseph Theodore, isolated, negotiating, and General Ralph Browne, focused on military operations on the ground—two very different personalities. I had also persuaded Commissioner of Police Jules Bernard to travel with me from Barbados on the first available flight.
On August 1, Bilal Abdullah called Raffique Shah, former military leader and columnist at the Express, to say he felt ANR Robinson would die and that he did not know who to talk to. Shah called me and we spoke confidentially. I went straight to Theodore whom I trusted and relayed what I had learnt. Theodore and Abu Bakr had been talking sporadically. Theodore continued a dialogue with Abu Bakr, now focused on Robinson’s release and a surrender.
Theodore asked me to stay with him. Abu Bakr had a list of demands from amnesty to having 35 members of the Jamaat precepted. They talked and talked. I could only hear Theodore.
I stayed in the room with the military leader until the Prime Minister was released and Abu Bakr came out with his hands in the air, making a photo which became famous.
Since then, citizen Wendell Eversley has single-handedly kept attention on what happened in 1990 every year. Why the rest of the society has remained largely indifferent and unmoved is difficult to say.