Cheddi Jagan - Father of the Nation
By Gary Girdhari

The Honourable Cheddi B. Jagan, late President of the Republic of Guyana, has been called by many names — the ‘fire brand’ Marxist-Leninist socialist, communist, popular leader — but most appropriately, the Father of the Nation and Dean of (Caribbean) Socialist Politics.

On March 6. 1997, Dr. Cheddi Jagan died at the Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington, D.C. after suffering from complications arising out of a heart attack. He would have been 79 years old on March 22, 1997.

Jagan spent almost all of his adult life in politics, fighting relentlessly for the poor, disenfranchised and downtrodden — against many odds, including the might of imperialist Britain, USA and their local Guyanese reactionaries. Fully aware that the problem in Guyana politics is not racial but has a historical and class basis, he strived arduously to educate the people and especially those around him to understand the politics of race and class.

Cheddi Jagan was born on the 22 March, 1918 on the sugar estate of Port Mourant, Corentyne, Guyana. His parents were indentured immigrants from India, arriving in British Guiana at tender ages in 1901. His mother, Bachoni, remained illiterate and his father, Jagan, showed leadership qualities that enabled him to be promoted to ‘head driver’ or foreman.

Like other estate children, Cheddi Jagan spent his early days as a ‘normal’ child. He attended the Port Mourant Primary School followed by Persaud’s Secondary. His brilliance qualified him for the premier school, Queen’s College, in Georgetown, having won the highly competitive County Scholarship. There, he obtained the Oxford and Cambridge Certificate.

At Port Mourant, he apprenticed as a tailor and at Queens College he excelled in cricket. His parents must have been progressive since they sent him off at age 18 to the USA with $500.00 for further studies — this kind of act was rare if not unknown for the sugar workers.

He enrolled at the ‘black’ Howard University for pre-dental studies. In 1938, he moved to North Western University in Chicago, graduating 1942 in dentistry. Concurrently, he did a Bachelor’s degree in the Social Sciences. Cheddi met and fell in love with Janet Rosenberg, a nurse and medical proof-reader. They were married during a simple ceremony in August 1943 amidst protests from the parents of both newly weds. Shortly after in October that year, Cheddi returned to Guyana (Janet to follow after ‘sweet soap’ of his parents) to set up a dental practice which was established at 69 Main Street, Georgetown. He was an superb dentist and he excelled in his profession for the next six years.

Jagan’s experiences in the USA left permanent impressions on his personality. He observed the problems of blacks, poverty, discrimination; and his ‘eyes were opened’ to the problems of the working people of British Guiana, for he soon became actively involved.

In 1946, together with his wife Janet, Trade Unionists H.J.M. Hubbard and Ashton Chase, the Political Affairs Committee was formed. The P.A.C. which was the precursor of the Peoples Progressive Party was the first structured political organization in Guiana with the primary aim of looking after the interests of the working class.

In 1947, Jagan contested the general election as an independent candidate and won a seat (Central Demerara district) in the Legislative Council, the halls of which he graced for 50 years. He became the President of the Sawmill Workers Union in 1949. In 1950, the People Progressive Party, a broad-based mass party, was formed, the leading members, all young and radical in their outlook. Cheddi was Leader, Janet, General Secretary and Forbes Burnham (deceased) of international notoriety was Chairman, usurping the position of Ashton Chase. Very shortly after, the P.P.P. agitated and won Adult Suffrage (after the Waddington Commission). At the 1953 general election, the P.P.P. acquired an overwhelming majority (18 out of 24) of seats against the mainly East Indian and African upper and middle class adversaries.

The rhetoric of the young, vibrant and progressives in the P.P.P. became a cause for concern, and the height of the Cold War evoked the wrath of the Colonial Powers. After 133 days in office, the British government, ably encouraged by the local reactionaries and ‘stooges’, suspended the constitution of British Guiana. The P.P.P. Ministers were removed from office. House arrests and jail became common place as the member broke the unreasonable and unfair restrictive orders. It was during this time that Martin Carter penned his revolutionary Poems of Resistance. Many were jailed, including Cheddi and Janet. Gunboat diplomacy was the order of the day and British soldiers ‘kept the peace’. The imposed Interim Government established an ignominious period of ‘marking time’.

Jagan (in the company of Burnham) traveled to India to seek comfort, guidance and assistance. They visited the U.K. to present their case for the removal of the restrictive orders and a return to a parliamentary state.

The strategy of ‘divide and rule’ was adopted by the combined powers and ‘race’ was injected into Guiana politics. Burnham sold out. When some leading members of the P.P.P. were incarcerated, Burnham sought to take over the leadership at the infamous ‘Metropole’ meeting. Despite many overtures by Jagan for rapprochement and cohesiveness, Burnham remained adamant; and he engineered a split in the P.P.P. which eventually came to full fruition in 1955. The "opportunist, racist and demagogue" Burnham led a Burnhamite faction and Jagan the Jaganite faction of the P.P.P.

In the 1957 election, Jagan won 9 out of 14 seats. Again in 1961, he received an overwhelming mandate against his main opponent, Burnham who by now had formed the Peoples National Congress. The working class base was thus shattered and this resulted in the demise and ruination of Guyana — very well orchestrated by local and foreign interests.

Cheddi Jagan’s primary focus was political independence for Guyana. The wind of change was blowing across Africa and the Caribbean. However, Britain and the USA opposed granting independence under the "pro-Communist, Marxist" with a "socialist economy"; hence, a complicity among Britain, USA and the CIA saw destabilizing efforts to remove Jagan from office — at all costs. A number of strikes, riots, burning and looting were finagled and masterminded by foreign-backed unions — using scapegoats of the "budget" in 1962 and the "labour relations bill" in 1963. By this time, Peter D’Aguiar, representing business, had formed the United Force, and joined Burnham (the incongruity of an arch capitalist and a born again ‘socialist&rsquo to rout Jagan regardless of the consequences. Jagan’s yearning for independence encouraged him to participate in the Constitutional Conference in London when the dishonorable Duncan Sandys refused a date for independence and instead imposed a new system of proportional representation (PR) — especially designed to disadvantage and remove Jagan. The P.P.P. nevertheless obtained the highest percentage of votes but with no outright majority. Thus, the unholy alliance of the antipodal Burnham/D’Aguiar nexus formed a Coalition government because of their combined majority of seats. Burnham became the Prime Minister of the independent Guyana in 1966.

Forbes Burnham continued to ‘win’ a series of elections after elaborate and shameless frauds and riggings, all with the full knowledge and compliance of the powers that supported his rise to power. He was successful in creating a demonizing system where fear and coercion, ‘wire taps and physical surveillance’, and political intimidation reigned high. He postured as a power drunk monster dictator. He and the P.N.C. wrecked Guyana during 28 years of misrule, corruption and squandermania (thanks to Duncan Sandys and other operatives), and made most Guyanese the laughing stock of the Caribbean, losing their worth and self-esteem.

"For a man to fight and come back after all this time mean that he gat more guts than calabash’ was the voice of an elderly Black man during a roving TV interview in Guyana covering Jagan’s death. The ‘come back kid’ politician Cheddi and the P.P.P. won the election in 1992 at the end of the Cold War era, when a fair election was overseen by American advocates like President Jimmy Carter. Jagan was vindicated. Secret documents detailing how his early government was subverted by the so-called liberal Kennedy are still kept sealed by the State Department in Washington, although the documents should be declassified after 30 years — presumably because the "papers are a smoking gun" not "worth the embarrassment". Historian and former advisor to John F. Kennedy, Arthur Schlesinger apologetically recanted that they "misunderstood the whole struggle down there," that he (Jagan) was not "some great menace" and "wasn’t a Communist".

Jagan persevered, resolute, honest, fair, popular, never deviating from his underlying conviction to fight for the poor, to eradicate poverty, disease and illiteracy.

His short tenure as President of Guyana saw tremendous changes for the better. Self esteem and confidence returned. His ‘lean’ government and pragmatic approaches in governance have paid off. Infrastructural developments, production in all aspects of the economy are on the rise, and corruption is approaching zero.

Some say that Cheddi Jagan mellowed in later years. But his dialectic approach, after the end of the Cold War, suggested pragmatism, constrained, as we know, by heavy debt burden inherited from the previous regime. He was instrumental in obtaining debt write-offs and placed Guyana once again on the road to economic recovery. Regrettably, he needed more time to have accomplished his dreams and ideals. "The one duty we owe to history is to rewrite it." And one day, history will record Cheddi Jagan among the really great men of our times.

Remembering Cheddi Jagan
Fragments from memory
By Moses V. Nagamootoo

ON FRIDAY, February 14, 1997 (Valentine's Day), Cheddi Jagan suffered a fatal heart attack.

He battled heroically in hospital for twenty-one days, but succumbed on March 6.

The late Cheddi Jagan gave over fifty years of his glorious life to his country and people.

At 79, he had reached the pinnacle of service. He died at his post as the Republic's first democratically-elected President and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces.

He had earned the stature of a Mahatma and, indisputably, the Father of the Nation.

Many assessments have already been made of his life and more would be made. But without accounts from those who shared the experiences of his life and struggles, much could remain unsaid, and lost.

Much would be said about his politics and ideology.

But the Cheddi Jagan I knew during the three decades I worked alongside him was essentially a patriot wrapped up in a set of attitudes. Those for me better explained his personality, his world outlook and his convictions.

He was, as he himself had admitted, a workaholic. During his unenviable stint as Opposition Leader (1964-92), when he was not attending a party or public meeting, he devoted time to reading, researching and writing. He was a patient listener who constantly learned from the views of others.

Because of those multiple tasks, which he executed continuously and almost simultaneously, he was forced to convert his small office at Freedom House (the People's Progressive Party headquarters) into a study, a guest lounge as well as a rest house. He would enjoy an hour's after-lunch siesta in his Amerindian hammock inside that office.

I cannot say when he was first diagnosed as being unwell, and I never really knew until I was informed that he had suffered a "mild cardiac episode". I knew though that when he became President of the Republic a regimen of rest away from office was implemented on Wednesdays, when he would either remain at State House or repair to his Bel Air residence.

At home Dr Jagan worked informally on statements, speeches, articles and research papers. I would invariably assist him in those tasks. But the only time when I went to State House to review a speech, it was evident from his swollen, dark eye sockets that he had had a hard, long, night of work.

His after-lunch rest hour then was a necessity for Dr Jagan who would have started his day long before sunrise. However, when he came to the Office of the President, his siesta became irregular. His rest time was constantly pushed to later in the afternoon then, at times, not at all.

I believe that that was the reason for the imposition of a day off on Wednesdays. But if frugality for him meant that time should not be squandered, it was his thoughtfulness about what his colleagues should do with their time that added novelty to his day off.

One day our late President announced casually at Cabinet that he had started routine exercise in the National Park in Georgetown.

Rather than using up precious office hours for scheduled monthly meetings with each of his ministers, he thought out an innovative plan: he would invite ministers, one at a time, to accompany him on his walk around the park. In that way, he had explained, the ministers would do two things simultaneously: keeping their monthly appointment with him and exercising.

Like work, exercise for him was both fun and tonic. He told us often that he exercised while reading his newspapers, or listening to the radio - his favourite pastime.

The President's Engagement Diary had me down for a walk on Wednesday, February 12, 1997 at 5 p.m.

In preparation I took my dark blue sweat suit to my ministry, which was on the ground floor of the Office of the President.

It was the first time that I was going to the National Park for a jog. I didn't know what to expect. I was slightly overweight and I didn't think I could run. What if Dr Jagan decided to trot around the park?

But there I was, filled with mystery and expectation, on my first outing in the park with my "Comrade Leader". I parked my car at the northern entrance and waited.

I allowed my eyes to roam around the park in a mental survey of the distance I would have to do. Just then I saw Central Bank official, Dr Gobind Ganga, who had served on the Presidential Commission of Inquiry into the University of Guyana and, more recently, on an advisory team for the privatisation of the Guyana Electricity Corporation.

Ganga approached me. He said that the President wanted to have a talk with him and that he was asked to meet him here at the park.

Poor Ganga, he didn't know that he would have to trek and talk. I glanced at his white shirt-jac, black office pants and hard, leather shoes. I knew that he was not prepared for a walk.

When I told him what to expect, he sauntered to his vehicle and was back in a jiffy. His shirt-jac was tucked into his pants, and he was ready for any action. By then, the President's car appeared.

If Ganga wasn't prepared for the Park, Dr Jagan didn't dress for the sleek presidential car from which he had emerged. He had on the off-cream pants I had seen him in many, many years before. Those Hungarian pants!

We had bought them in the summer of 1978 when we went together on a political mission to Budapest.

I believe that our nation's father couldn't throw away anything and he kept those pants together with some stitches here and there. I bet that he did the stitching himself, as he had done tailoring in jail when he gave up wood-working after accidentally injuring his finger.

His jailing, of course, was another matter. It was a symbolism of the conversion of Guyana into a colonial prison from which our dreams couldn't escape for an entire generation.

But it was the Hungarian pants that survived to that unforgettable day when I joined Ganga for Comrade Cheddi's last lap around the National Park.

He wore a white T-shirt with some markings on it, and a white baseball cap. I think it was from a local rice company.

His track boots were unmistakably small for an aged warrior.

"Hi there!" he greeted us with those familiar two words.

"Well, how many laps are we going for?" I asked as he held my shoulder.

"Sometimes I do two, sometimes more."

I was worried about the "more". I didn't want to walk by his side and let him hear my heavy breathing.

He shook Ganga's hand and he placed himself between us. I was on his right, on the inner side. We started off leisurely on the narrow, pitched track along an avenue bordered by trees.

It was "Comrade Cheddi", as we addressed him endearingly, who had freed this park up for popular recreation during a previous government, which he then headed as Premier. The sprawling, green landscape had been an exclusive golf club for the privileged and elite.

As we walked, Dr Jagan started his business with me in two words: "Everything alright?"

I also answered dismissively, "Yes".

I knew that that day I was to listen. It was my turn to learn.

The discussion was about privatisation in general and, more particularly, about the Guyana Electricity Corporation.

Comrade Cheddi spoke about the national interest, the risk in building monopolies, the impact of privatisation on the working people and on the poor. It was a lecture in classical political economy, but his tone was hushed, and he sounded conspiratorial.

Just then Mike Brassington, the head of the Privatisation Unit, passed us. He was walking with his wife in an opposite direction. He raised his hand, and Comrade Cheddi simply nodded.

The GEC was in shambles when the PPP/Civic government took over, he reminded us. GEC has made significant progress and it must be set right before the next (1997) elections.

GEC was an example of the stubbornness of the government to set things right. Therefore a privatisation model must not lose sight of the gains so far.

He wanted publicity on what improvements had been made and the new assets that were bought with government's own money to stop the endemic blackouts, and stabilise power supply.

As we were nearing the National Park stadium, my colleague Bert Wilkinson, the local AP correspondent, hailed at us. He was playing softball, and he pointed at my bulging tummy and must have said something like "Cheddi looks far fitter then you!" We laughed and continued around the bend.

It was an afternoon of respect. Couples said "good afternoon", children hailed "President Jagan!" and persons unbeknown to him giggled and shyly said "hello".

We passed David de Caires, the Editor-in-Chief of Stabroek News, walking with, I believed, a lanky PNC Parliamentarian, John de Freitas. They passed us on the right, inner edge of the track. Comrade Cheddi did not notice them.

De Caries lifted his eyes, but went past us silently. He was to look at the living face of the Guyanese leader he had cruelly criticised with predictable regularity just one more time.

That was on the second and final lap.

The conversation became more intense. Comrade Cheddi was concerned about the implications for the big and powerful industrialised states of the divestment process in Guyana. While he drew a distinction between the Canadian "social" approach and the American's "profit bottom-line" approach to foreign investment, he held an open attitude towards privatisation.

His principle on privatisation was simple: "If we have to, we would; if we don't, we won't".

He wanted care to be taken at every stage of the process, and that it must not appear that there had been any preference for companies or any notion of a raw deal for any of them.

Above all, he wanted that with regards to GEC two things should be clear: firstly, the assets of the corporation should be fairly assessed; and secondly, that any post-privatisation agreement must protect the consumers from high or arbitrary charges.

As we finished the second and final lap, it began to drizzle. We continued a while in the drizzle, but the drivers were bringing out umbrellas.

The Guyanese leader noticed that others were walking in the rain, including a young niece, Dionne. He didn't want to appear indiscreet. So he waved the umbrellas away and beckoned us into his car.

I dived into the front seat and he and Ganga huddled in the back.

The conversation was switched to finance, and Ganga, now wearing his Bank of Guyana hat, was doing much of the talking. Comrade Cheddi was listening with deep intensity.

He was asking many questions. And Ganga was explaining how excess liquidity was being mopped up, the impact on inflation of lower interest on treasury bills, and the role of the Central Bank in fiscal management.

It was a conversation that could have gone on and on, but the guards signalled to Comrade Cheddi that it was time to leave.

Little did I know then that that was my last lap with our Mahatma, who was to fall mortally ill two days later.

Dr Jagan knew that he had another appointment that afternoon, and he drove off into the hazy evening.

We had lost the sun and darkness was about to engulf us.

(Mr Nagamootoo was Information Minister.)

The Final Day...

http://www.guyana.org/GuyNews/final_day.html

The Final Journey Home...

http://www.guyana.org/GuyNews/journey_home.html

Guyana: Remembering Dr. Cheddi Jagan

 

Kevin Edmonds

The Other Side of Paradise

March 29, 2012

Source - NACLA

 

Cheddi Jagan. Photo Credit: Betty Millard

 

March 6 marked the 15^thanniversary of the death of Dr. Cheddi Jagan, the former President of Guyana—and the hemisphere’s first democratically elected Marxist leader. While that distinction is often mistakenly associated with the election of Chilean President Salvador Allende, Guyana was not only the site of this historic election, but Jagan (not Jacobo Arbenz) was also the first leader in the Americas to fall victim to Cold War military intervention—as Iran’s Mosaddegh was overthrown several months earlier on August 19, 1953.

 

In the wake of widespread labour unrest throughout the Caribbean between 1935-38, the West India Royal Commission was established in order to investigate the socio-economic conditions of the British colonial territories in the Caribbean, and propose reforms to minimize the potential of future unrest.

 

In a response to the Commission’s findings, during 1950-51, the British government agreed to the implementation of political reforms that would allow for universal suffrage and the formation of political parties, essentially allowing for self government in then British Guiana, but not formal independence. The arrangement was similar in most West Indian colonial territories, with power remaining in the hands of the British appointed governor.

 

That year, Jagan and his associates formed the People’s Progressive Party (PPP), and he was elected as the first Chief Minister in April, 1953. The PPP had been elected upon a pro-independence platform, stressing economic development and the creation of a socialist society. The new government, led by Jagan immediately set out to implement the numerous socio-economic reforms laid out in its popular election manifesto, ranging from the improvement of social services, to the implementation of workers’ rights and land reform. Such reforms were immensely popular amongst the Guyanese people, but stirred unease within more conservative circles, including the British colonial office.

 

Despite the fact that the British intelligence agency, MI5 concluded that the Jagan and the PPP were "not receiving any financial support from any communist organisation outside the country," the British government remained determined to squash the political movement, seeing it as a foothold for the Soviet Union in the region. 

 

Despite his popularity, Jagan’s first political victory would be short lived, as 133 days later on October 5, the British government grew tired of Jagan’s “disruptive antics,” and were directed by Winston Churchill to go ahead with Operation Windsor. The operation called for the dispatching the HMS Superb and the landing a military force in Guyana, where they suspended the constitution and overthrew the democratically elected Government.

 

The aftermath of the coup would see the fracturing of the party along ethnic lines, with the PPP and the Indo-Guyanese aligning with Jagan, and the Afro-Guyanese population siding with former PPP Chairman, Forbes Burnham and his People’s National Congress in 1955. This split along racial lines has politically divided Guyana to this very day – and remains a prominent, polarizing feature of national politics.

 

Despite his arrest and placement under house arrest, Jagan remained the country’s most popular politician, and was re-elected in 1961. The democratic return of Jagan to power drew concern this time from the Kennedy administration, who implemented a covert program to reduce the popularity of Jagan and the PPP. At the time, Burnham was the president of the Guyana Labour Union, which would be used as one of the primary tools in the destabilization of Jagan’s government. The CIA began a destabilization campaign which instigated labor unrest, funding the striking workers, engaging in the dissemination of widespread disinformation and triggered race riots that left 170 people dead and thousands more injured. The head of the CIA operations in Guyana was Agent Frank Wisner, a veteran of the previously mentioned covert actions that overthrew Guatemalan President Jacobo Arbenz and Mohammed Mossedegh of Iran.

 

In the midst of the struggle, Jagan defended his course of action, remarking that “I believe that my first charge is to raise my people from the mire of poverty in which, for too long, they have suffered. I have never made any secret of my views. I have been thrown out of office. I have been subjected to violence, indignity and jail. I am willing to face these things again, and gladly, in the fight to free my people and aid them. Here I stand. Here I will stand until I die.”

 

Despite the numerous covert actions against Jagan, he remained in power until 1964, when he was finally defeated by Burnham (in a rigged election), despite winning the plurality of the vote. Once in power, Burnham went on to lead a 20 year dictatorship in which he intensified the racial divide amongst the Indo and Afro-Guyanese populations.

 

In 1966, while in opposition, Jagan reflected on the period of destabilization and it’s unfortunate outcomes, stating “The violence and disturbances of 1962 and 1963 did not succeed in their immediate objective of bringing about the fall of the government or the suspension of the constitution. But they did result, as we shall see, in the delay of independence and the imposition of a constitutional and electoral formula designed to bring the opposition to power. It was a major tragedy for Guyana that a section of the working class was deluded into forging its own chains by directing its attack not, as previously, against the capitalists and landlords but against a national, pro-working class, socialist-oriented government.”

 

It was later declassified that in the run up to the 1964 elections, Burnham and the PNC had received significant funding from the U.S. State Department, upwards of $2 million. After spending a total of 28 years in the government opposition, Jagan and the PPP won the 1992 election, finally becoming President of a politically independent Guyana. Once in power, Jagan remained committed to policies of environmental sustainability and human development—but like all previous times it would be cut short, this time with his tragic passing due to a heart attack in March, 1997.

 

The misconceptions about Allende’s role as the first elected Marxist leader reveals the unfortunate fact that Jagan is often overlooked in many of the discussions of progressive leadership and their contribution to independence, anti-imperialism and genuine development in the hemisphere. Often, the progressive contribution of Dr. Jagan—with his intense commitment to both democracy and socialism, and the immense obstacles faced by him are often lost and overshadowed in contemporary times by the previously mentioned figures like Allende or Arbenz, or his counterparts Michael Manley, Maurice Bishop, and Jean Bertrand Aristide in the Caribbean. The reality is that with the exception of Haiti—Guyana has been the site of some of the most significant military intervention in the Caribbean, with consequences which have impacted the nation’s efforts to break the cycle of dependency and foster cooperation amongst its population. Dr. Jagan should be remembered for both his efforts to make Guyana a truly independent and more equal society, and as a symbol of what could have been and how far the (neo) colonial powers—the United States and the United Kingdom will go to undermine the possibility of democracy in the Caribbean.

 

---

Kevin Edmonds is a NACLA blogger focusing on the Caribbean.

 

For more from his blog, "The Other Side of Paradise," visit nacla.org/blog/other-side-paradise.

 

Edmonds is a former NACLA research associate and a current PhD student at the University of Toronto, where he is studying the impact of neoliberalism on the St. Lucian banana trade.

DEM GUY in TOP form here.

I have since changed my opinion on Dr. Jagan. He is partly to be blamed for getting Indos in this mess that we are by flirting with communists. It did hurt Guyana and Guyanese.

His hooligan son also attempted to destroy his party.

Nadira did the honourable thing by sticking with the Party that was formed by their parents. Kudos to her.

Jagan's fight for the poor and working class and his humble lifestyle must be noted unlike Fat Pigs like Moses who ate

$ 80 million off the trough in less than 100 days.

THE FATHER OF OUR NATION.  REST IN PEACE, OH GREAT ONE!!

CHEDDI BERET JAGAN WAS THE MANDELA/GANDHI OF THE CARIBBEAN!!

He is your daddy not ours. Go do a puja to him....leave me out....another grave to piss on.

Who the hell put you in???  YES, he is the Father of my Nation.  NOw go to HELL!!!

Early Articles by Cheddi Jagan - 1942-1956

In Defence of the Working Class

  by C.B.Jagan B.Sc., D.D.S        

As a result of my letter appearing in the Daily Chronicle on Sunday July 7, 1946,  R.B.H. in the Guiana Graphic of Sunday July 14 countered with an article “A Vote is like a Wage”.  To have arrived at those opinions considering the views expressed in my letter, one gets the impression that R.B.H. is either completely devoid of all sense of logical reasoning, in which case he should not be allowed to abuse the freedom of the press, or that he has embarked on an early campaign of smear and slander.

I am being painted as a visionary who will bring the sun and the moon to the people. He would credit me with a campaign slogan, “A car under every house”.  It may be useful information that the workers in the U.S.A. at the present time do not look upon the possession of a car as a luxury, but as a necessity.  My point of argument was that the acquiring of material wants – cars, radios, houses, electricity, books, pencil, slates, etc. – varies in direct proportion with buying power, which in turn is dependent upon two factors, wages and cost of consumer goods.  As long as there is maintained the present condition of high cost for consumer goods and low rates of wages for workers, the working class which includes the estate labourers will never have the buying power to purchase his normal wants of adequate food, clothing and shelter, no matter how lavishly these are displayed.

A careful analysis of the article reveals the sinister hand of reaction trying to divide the working class along racial lines.  I am smeared as “a champion of a particular race in the colony.”  To me the alignment is clear –exploiter versus exploited, capitalism and profits versus slavery and the misery of the working class.  In this I can see no question of race.  It is only to be hoped that the workers of British Guiana will recognize the fountainhead of this racial propaganda, and will realize their power in their votes and adopt as their slogan “workers of the world unite, you have nothing to lose but your chains.”

Why mention the 3½ million dollars already paid this year as wages by the sugar industry, when no mention is made as to the number of workers and actual number of man hours involved?  In other words, give us the figure for the miserable wage rate per hour or per day.  Why tell us about aggregate wages, and not mention aggregate profits and the various paddings which in truth are profits but are accounted as cost of production.  To state that 80% of the 8 million dollars deposited in the Post Office Savings Bank belongs to the East Indians is subtle propaganda showing that their earning power must be high.  The fact is that saving is dependent not only on earning power, but also on other factors as thrift and self-sacrifice.  Over what period and by how many and what class of depositors was this sum of saving accumulated?  One again recognizes in this statement of savings the creative hand of racial antagonism and division, putting forth the case that “wealth is power”.

Fear of insecurity dominates the soul of the working class today.  The sugar estate labourer is forever paralyzed with the fear that at any time his family and himself can be evicted from estate property and house.  R.B.H. would further prostitute and heighten this fear by rearing the ugly head of unemployment.  Mechanization of the sugar industry, he would like to have propagated, would mean mass unemployment.  He does not tell us that modern methods of production will decrease the cost of production and therefore, increase the wages of labour, present profits remaining constant.  Mechanization need not result in unemployment.  The labour force now used can still be employed at prevailing wages but working less hours.  He does not want us to know that even if by mismanagement mechanization of the sugar industry result in unemployment, that the unemployment working class would demand and organize for full employment as one of its foremost rights and the Government of British Guiana dare not refuse to find ways and means for employment. It behoves the working class to become alive to this subtle form of propaganda - the fear of insecurity - employed by the capitalist.

Mr. R.B.H. would have psychoanalyzed men who sprang from the masses and who now advocate the cause of the working class. These men do not resent their origin because they are not seeking admission into the fraternity of the “Leisure class”, the capitalistic “Robber Barons”.  The fact is that they do not resent, therefore they do not forget.  One forgets and represses into the subconscious only the things of which one is ashamed. This is the time not for forgetting, but for remembering the miserable lot of the ordinary exploited worker.

The time is now for the vanguard of the working class to assume leadership and usher in Henry Wallace’s “Century of the Common Man”.

Copyright © Nadira Jagan-Brancier 2000

“A car under every house”.   Quoted.

Was Jagan a capitalist?

Any of you heard from Cheddi the third.  The last thing I heard was that he was in some type of self imposed exile in New York.

Met him.  He doing some law wuk in NYC.

His father might be coming to NYC as the head of the Consulate.

They will be spending this 5 years here making some money and them will be back in Guyana in 2019.

The magic bullet in the APNUAFC campaign is Cheddi the THIRD.

He is solidly with Granger and the APNU.

 Probably you do not knew who your real father hence you accept Dr Jagan.

Did you shave your head when he died? The barber who shaved  your head should have knock it with a brick!