Tuesday, July 17, 2012
The History of West Indies Cricket
The West Indian cricket team, also known colloquially as The Windies or The West Indies, is a multi-national cricket team representing a sporting confederation of a dozen English-speaking Caribbean countries and British dependencies that form the British West Indies.
From the mid 1970s to the early 1990s the West Indies team was one of the strongest in the world in both Test and One Day International cricket. A number of cricketers considered among the best in the world have hailed from the West Indies; Gary Sobers, Lance Gibbs, Gordon Greenidge, George Headley, Clive Lloyd, Malcolm Marshall, Andy Roberts and Everton Weekes have all been inducted into the ICC Hall of Fame, while world-record holders Brian Lara and Sir Viv Richards were both West Indies Test players.As of 19 June 2009, the West Indian team has played 457 Test matches, winning 33.26%, losing 32.38% and drawing 34.13% of its games.
read more
Monday, October 3, 2011
US Constitution: A model for others
US Constitution: A model for others
Published: Mon, 2011-10-03 01:42 trinidad guardian
Michael Delblond
In my own humble—and hopefully informed—view, genuine public discussion on constitutional matters ought not to be confused with or obscured by “cut and paste” exercises on the part of legal draughtsmen or the combing and probing of the Constitution’s fine print and grey areas for loopholes and ambiguities for the sole purpose of scoring sterile academic debating points simply in order to procure preferred outcome.
Today, more than ever, with the “wind of change” sweeping across the international landscape and autocratic regimes being swept aside, it’s probably advisable that a subsequent political vacuum and its possible attendant anarchy be eschewed in favour of attention being focused on the bedrock of liberal assumptions on which future constitutions are presumably based, with due respect for individual rights and legitimate freedoms. There is, in my respectful view, a lot of daylight between “political shadowboxing and snide innuendoes” and genuine inquiry into fundamental constitutional tenets, as distinct from an exercise in semantics and/or argumental and/or political expediency, in complete ignorance of the social, historical and political realities.
It’s perhaps fortunate that reference can be made to the US Constitution and particularly the amendments which constitute their Bill or Rights. A distinctive feature of the American Constitution is what is known as “the principle of separation of powers.” Interestingly, the framers didn’t intend that the executive, legislative and judicial arms of government should function in water-tight compartments but their overriding concern was “the dispersion of power” and ensuring that “checks and balances” would guarantee against the accumulation of power and lack of accountability which they deemed a sure recipe for tyranny.
Noted political scientist Prof James Q Wilson explained: “The framers (of the American Constitution) did not create three autonomous branches of government, but rather three separate institutions sharing power. For example, the President negotiates treaties with foreign governments, the Senate must approve them, and the Supreme Court has the right to declare presidential acts unconstitutional.” According to James Magregor Burns, the rationale for having the legislative and executive “at arm’s length,” so to speak, “was designed to prevent the mischief of factions and the tyranny of passionate majorities or ambitious politicians.”
Professor of History Jack N Rakove claimed that, like most other federalists, James Madison “thought that the legislatures were dominated by demagogues who sought office for reasons of ‘ambition’ and ‘personal interest’ rather than ‘public good.’ Such men as Patrick Henry (give me liberty or give me death), his great rival from Virginia, could always dupe more honest but unenlightened representatives, by veiling selfish views under the professions of public good.” As one of the major architects of the Constitution saw it, “The constant aim is to divide and arrange the several offices in such a manner so that each may be a check on the other.”
There is another view, as expressed by James L Sandquist: “A government structure drafted to frustrate would-be despots must, inevitably, also frustrate democratic leaders chosen by the people.” James Burns noted that the framers wanted a government “strong enough to protect individual liberties, but not too strong as to threaten those liberties.” When faced with the particular dilemma during the America Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln reflected thus, “Government must be strong enough to ensure its own existence, but not so strong to imperil the liberty of its citizens.” The American Constitution is not only regarded as a model for other written constitutions—even of the parliamentary or pseudo-parliamentary paradigm—but much can be learnt from a knowledge of how the framers approached their tasks and their chief concerns.
I do not refer to the “pseudo-parliamentary system” in any spirit of levity. Suppose—and we’re only supposing—that a Prime Minister is effectively much more than “first among equals,” and his/her Cabinet and parliamentarians, generally, are virtually under his/her thumb, then it would be difficult to discern the much touted “checks and balances” that are supposed to be an integral ingredient of a bona fide “parliamentary democracy” system. As far as I know, India is the world’s largest parliamentary democracy. Interestingly, the first Chief Justice of the Federal Court of India, referring to noted lawyer M Ramaswamy’s work (Fundamental Rights), opined that a “valuable part of that work was showing that fundamental rights conferred upon American citizens by the Constitution of the United States are real, effective, constantly enforced and readily enforceable.”
THOUGHTS
• According to James Magregor Burns, the rationale for having the legislative and executive “at arm’s length,” so to speak, “was designed to prevent the mischief of factions and the tyranny of passionate majorities or ambitious politicians.”
• The American Constitution is not only regarded as a model for other written constitutions—even of the parliamentary or pseudo-parliamentary paradigm—but much can be learnt from a knowledge of how the framers approached their tasks and their chief concerns.
Published: Mon, 2011-10-03 01:42 trinidad guardian
Michael Delblond
In my own humble—and hopefully informed—view, genuine public discussion on constitutional matters ought not to be confused with or obscured by “cut and paste” exercises on the part of legal draughtsmen or the combing and probing of the Constitution’s fine print and grey areas for loopholes and ambiguities for the sole purpose of scoring sterile academic debating points simply in order to procure preferred outcome.
Today, more than ever, with the “wind of change” sweeping across the international landscape and autocratic regimes being swept aside, it’s probably advisable that a subsequent political vacuum and its possible attendant anarchy be eschewed in favour of attention being focused on the bedrock of liberal assumptions on which future constitutions are presumably based, with due respect for individual rights and legitimate freedoms. There is, in my respectful view, a lot of daylight between “political shadowboxing and snide innuendoes” and genuine inquiry into fundamental constitutional tenets, as distinct from an exercise in semantics and/or argumental and/or political expediency, in complete ignorance of the social, historical and political realities.
It’s perhaps fortunate that reference can be made to the US Constitution and particularly the amendments which constitute their Bill or Rights. A distinctive feature of the American Constitution is what is known as “the principle of separation of powers.” Interestingly, the framers didn’t intend that the executive, legislative and judicial arms of government should function in water-tight compartments but their overriding concern was “the dispersion of power” and ensuring that “checks and balances” would guarantee against the accumulation of power and lack of accountability which they deemed a sure recipe for tyranny.
Noted political scientist Prof James Q Wilson explained: “The framers (of the American Constitution) did not create three autonomous branches of government, but rather three separate institutions sharing power. For example, the President negotiates treaties with foreign governments, the Senate must approve them, and the Supreme Court has the right to declare presidential acts unconstitutional.” According to James Magregor Burns, the rationale for having the legislative and executive “at arm’s length,” so to speak, “was designed to prevent the mischief of factions and the tyranny of passionate majorities or ambitious politicians.”
Professor of History Jack N Rakove claimed that, like most other federalists, James Madison “thought that the legislatures were dominated by demagogues who sought office for reasons of ‘ambition’ and ‘personal interest’ rather than ‘public good.’ Such men as Patrick Henry (give me liberty or give me death), his great rival from Virginia, could always dupe more honest but unenlightened representatives, by veiling selfish views under the professions of public good.” As one of the major architects of the Constitution saw it, “The constant aim is to divide and arrange the several offices in such a manner so that each may be a check on the other.”
There is another view, as expressed by James L Sandquist: “A government structure drafted to frustrate would-be despots must, inevitably, also frustrate democratic leaders chosen by the people.” James Burns noted that the framers wanted a government “strong enough to protect individual liberties, but not too strong as to threaten those liberties.” When faced with the particular dilemma during the America Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln reflected thus, “Government must be strong enough to ensure its own existence, but not so strong to imperil the liberty of its citizens.” The American Constitution is not only regarded as a model for other written constitutions—even of the parliamentary or pseudo-parliamentary paradigm—but much can be learnt from a knowledge of how the framers approached their tasks and their chief concerns.
I do not refer to the “pseudo-parliamentary system” in any spirit of levity. Suppose—and we’re only supposing—that a Prime Minister is effectively much more than “first among equals,” and his/her Cabinet and parliamentarians, generally, are virtually under his/her thumb, then it would be difficult to discern the much touted “checks and balances” that are supposed to be an integral ingredient of a bona fide “parliamentary democracy” system. As far as I know, India is the world’s largest parliamentary democracy. Interestingly, the first Chief Justice of the Federal Court of India, referring to noted lawyer M Ramaswamy’s work (Fundamental Rights), opined that a “valuable part of that work was showing that fundamental rights conferred upon American citizens by the Constitution of the United States are real, effective, constantly enforced and readily enforceable.”
THOUGHTS
• According to James Magregor Burns, the rationale for having the legislative and executive “at arm’s length,” so to speak, “was designed to prevent the mischief of factions and the tyranny of passionate majorities or ambitious politicians.”
• The American Constitution is not only regarded as a model for other written constitutions—even of the parliamentary or pseudo-parliamentary paradigm—but much can be learnt from a knowledge of how the framers approached their tasks and their chief concerns.
'Rodney Riots'
Remembering the 'Rodney Riots'
published: Sunday | October 12, 2008 jamaica gleaner
Carolyn Cooper, Contributor
Most students at the Mona campus of the University of the West Indies are too young to have witnessed the events of October 16, 1968, when protests erupted in Kingston as a result of the banning of Walter Rodney by the then government of Jamaica. Many students don't even know the name of this distinguished Pan-Africanist.
These days, the only question the average student would ask if a lecturer were banned is, "So who is going to take over the class?" And you really have to understand. With the high cost of tuition, books, housing, food, transportation, and so on, most students are focused on getting in and out of university as fast as possible. Their goal is a 'big' job. They don't have any time to count cow. They just want to drink milk.
My generation of students also counted the cost of university education. But we counted cow as well. The late 1960s was a period of self-discovery in which the cry 'Black Power' animated conversations about racial identity and national consciousness. The promise of 'independence' and 'out of many, one people' masked the visible signs of neo-colo-nialism. So we had to take stock.
THE GOLDEN CALF
Students of the University of the West Indies break through a police cordon along Mona Road, St Andrew, in 1968. The cops, armed with tear gas canisters and riot batons, are in hot pursuit.
When I entered UWI in October 1968 I was accompanied to my hall of residence, Mary Seacole, by my immediate family, as well as the pastor of my church, the North Street Seventh-day Adventist. The university was seen as a hotbed of radicalism and so it was decided that I needed divine intervention to protect me. Or, at least, my pastor's prayers.
I had always been the kind of child who asked disquieting questions. Why can't we wear jewellery when the children of Israel had enough gold to make a calf? And why is it OK to wear a brooch and not earrings? You can well imagine the quizzical expression on my face when a well-intentioned pastor told me that you wear a brooch on your clothes and earrings on your body, so that was the important difference. The identical decorative function simply didn't matter.
It was clear that university education was going to give my restless imagination even more scope for development. So in exactly the same way that other believers would have taken their child to an obeahman or woman for protection from bad-mind and grudgeful people, my pastor was brought along to offer prayers to save me from dangerous intellectual inquiry.
IMPRISONED ON CAMPUS
Nevertheless, before the end of the month, I was out on the streets taking part in the infamous demonstrations. The meeting of the Guild of Students that was called to discuss the appropriate response to the banning of Walter Rodney took place in Mary Seacole's dining room. There was no question about not attending. I was living at the very centre of the excitement. I certainly didn't understand all the issues. But the eloquence of the older students was persuasive. I made up my mind to participate in the demonstration.
We had been advised to take damp towels to protect ourselves from tear gas. As it turned out, I was quite lucky and was able to jump into a passing car when we were tear-gassed in Liguanea. When the march divided - some students going downtown and others down Hope Road - I took what I anticipated would be the less dangerous route. I headed for Half-Way Tree.
But when I realised that I could actually be arrested, the demonstration lost its appeal. I don't know what I would have told my poor mother. I quickly calculated that discretion was, indeed, the better part of valour and retreated to the campus. Imprisoned there for two weeks as police and soldiers cordoned the university, we had the luxury of time to reflect on the meaning of the protests and our role as university students in transforming political systems of inequality.
GROUNDINGS
This week, the University of the West Indies will host 'Groundings: The Walter Rodney Conference', to mark the 40th anniversary of the student protests. The conference, one of the many activities to commemorate the University's 60th year, will open on October 16 with the 10th Annual Walter Rodney lecture. Professor Patricia Rodney will speak on the topic, 'Remembering Walter Rodney: My Personal, Political and Professional Journey'.
The conference continues on Friday and Saturday with panels on 'Rodney, Revolution and Popular Music'; 'Rastafari and Political Activism in Jamaica'; 'Oral Histories of the Rodney Protests'; 'Rodney, Race, Class and Gender'; 'Student and Youth Activism Past and Present'; 'Rethinking Development' and 'Walter Rodney's Academic and Political Legacy'.
Some of the featured speakers include Donna Hope, whose paper is titled 'Pon di Gullyside: From Rodney to Mavado'. Horace Campbell will examine Rodney's contribution to the Dar es Salaam School of Philosophy. Rupert Lewis will assess the implications of the demonstrations for UWI and the idea of regionalism.
Karen Jefferson, head of Archives and Special Collections at the Atlanta University Center's Robert W. Woodruff Library, will focus on the Walter Rodney papers which are housed there. Asha Rodney will speak about the role of the Walter Rodney Foundation in sustaining her father's legacy.
CONFERENCE HIGHLIGHT
One of the highlights of the conference will be Edward Seaga's reflections on Walter Rodney as an activist. Frederick Hickling's multi-media presentation on 'Rastafari as an African Disapora National Liberation Movement' promises to be another high point. There will be film screenings and poetry readings and the conference will close with a dance at the UWI Student Union, 'Eras: Reunion at the Union'.
Like Walter Rodney's influential book, The Groundings With My Brothers, the 40th anniversary conference will provide a unique opportunity for conversation with both sisters and brothers about how we can help create humane societies in the 21st century.
In the spirit of Rodney's inclusive politics, the 'Groundings' conference is open to the public and there is no registration fee. For further information, email conferencewalter rodney@yahoo.com or telephone the Institute of Caribbean Studies at 977-1951 or 512-3228.
Letters to the Editor
published: Sunday | October 12, 2008 jamaica gleaner
Carolyn Cooper, Contributor
Most students at the Mona campus of the University of the West Indies are too young to have witnessed the events of October 16, 1968, when protests erupted in Kingston as a result of the banning of Walter Rodney by the then government of Jamaica. Many students don't even know the name of this distinguished Pan-Africanist.
These days, the only question the average student would ask if a lecturer were banned is, "So who is going to take over the class?" And you really have to understand. With the high cost of tuition, books, housing, food, transportation, and so on, most students are focused on getting in and out of university as fast as possible. Their goal is a 'big' job. They don't have any time to count cow. They just want to drink milk.
My generation of students also counted the cost of university education. But we counted cow as well. The late 1960s was a period of self-discovery in which the cry 'Black Power' animated conversations about racial identity and national consciousness. The promise of 'independence' and 'out of many, one people' masked the visible signs of neo-colo-nialism. So we had to take stock.
THE GOLDEN CALF
Students of the University of the West Indies break through a police cordon along Mona Road, St Andrew, in 1968. The cops, armed with tear gas canisters and riot batons, are in hot pursuit.
When I entered UWI in October 1968 I was accompanied to my hall of residence, Mary Seacole, by my immediate family, as well as the pastor of my church, the North Street Seventh-day Adventist. The university was seen as a hotbed of radicalism and so it was decided that I needed divine intervention to protect me. Or, at least, my pastor's prayers.
I had always been the kind of child who asked disquieting questions. Why can't we wear jewellery when the children of Israel had enough gold to make a calf? And why is it OK to wear a brooch and not earrings? You can well imagine the quizzical expression on my face when a well-intentioned pastor told me that you wear a brooch on your clothes and earrings on your body, so that was the important difference. The identical decorative function simply didn't matter.
It was clear that university education was going to give my restless imagination even more scope for development. So in exactly the same way that other believers would have taken their child to an obeahman or woman for protection from bad-mind and grudgeful people, my pastor was brought along to offer prayers to save me from dangerous intellectual inquiry.
IMPRISONED ON CAMPUS
Nevertheless, before the end of the month, I was out on the streets taking part in the infamous demonstrations. The meeting of the Guild of Students that was called to discuss the appropriate response to the banning of Walter Rodney took place in Mary Seacole's dining room. There was no question about not attending. I was living at the very centre of the excitement. I certainly didn't understand all the issues. But the eloquence of the older students was persuasive. I made up my mind to participate in the demonstration.
We had been advised to take damp towels to protect ourselves from tear gas. As it turned out, I was quite lucky and was able to jump into a passing car when we were tear-gassed in Liguanea. When the march divided - some students going downtown and others down Hope Road - I took what I anticipated would be the less dangerous route. I headed for Half-Way Tree.
But when I realised that I could actually be arrested, the demonstration lost its appeal. I don't know what I would have told my poor mother. I quickly calculated that discretion was, indeed, the better part of valour and retreated to the campus. Imprisoned there for two weeks as police and soldiers cordoned the university, we had the luxury of time to reflect on the meaning of the protests and our role as university students in transforming political systems of inequality.
GROUNDINGS
This week, the University of the West Indies will host 'Groundings: The Walter Rodney Conference', to mark the 40th anniversary of the student protests. The conference, one of the many activities to commemorate the University's 60th year, will open on October 16 with the 10th Annual Walter Rodney lecture. Professor Patricia Rodney will speak on the topic, 'Remembering Walter Rodney: My Personal, Political and Professional Journey'.
The conference continues on Friday and Saturday with panels on 'Rodney, Revolution and Popular Music'; 'Rastafari and Political Activism in Jamaica'; 'Oral Histories of the Rodney Protests'; 'Rodney, Race, Class and Gender'; 'Student and Youth Activism Past and Present'; 'Rethinking Development' and 'Walter Rodney's Academic and Political Legacy'.
Some of the featured speakers include Donna Hope, whose paper is titled 'Pon di Gullyside: From Rodney to Mavado'. Horace Campbell will examine Rodney's contribution to the Dar es Salaam School of Philosophy. Rupert Lewis will assess the implications of the demonstrations for UWI and the idea of regionalism.
Karen Jefferson, head of Archives and Special Collections at the Atlanta University Center's Robert W. Woodruff Library, will focus on the Walter Rodney papers which are housed there. Asha Rodney will speak about the role of the Walter Rodney Foundation in sustaining her father's legacy.
CONFERENCE HIGHLIGHT
One of the highlights of the conference will be Edward Seaga's reflections on Walter Rodney as an activist. Frederick Hickling's multi-media presentation on 'Rastafari as an African Disapora National Liberation Movement' promises to be another high point. There will be film screenings and poetry readings and the conference will close with a dance at the UWI Student Union, 'Eras: Reunion at the Union'.
Like Walter Rodney's influential book, The Groundings With My Brothers, the 40th anniversary conference will provide a unique opportunity for conversation with both sisters and brothers about how we can help create humane societies in the 21st century.
In the spirit of Rodney's inclusive politics, the 'Groundings' conference is open to the public and there is no registration fee. For further information, email conferencewalter rodney@yahoo.com or telephone the Institute of Caribbean Studies at 977-1951 or 512-3228.
Letters to the Editor
ccj
Is the CCJ a Trojan Horse?
Published: Sunday | December 26, 2010 jamaica gleaner
Priya LeversAshford W. Meikle, Contributor
In a recent address to the Cornwall Bar Association, Justice Patrick Robinson blamed a colonial mentality for the failure of Jamaicans to abolish appeals to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council and embrace the Caribbean Court of Justice as the country's final court of appeal.
In advancing his arguments, he quoted Marcus Garvey, saying it was better to misgovern yourself rather than be governed by another.
The eminent jurist's views echo similar sentiments that were expressed just over a year ago by the president of the Court of Appeal, Justice Seymour Panton, who described people favouring a retention of the Privy Council as being "the very wealthy, murderers and the ones with colonial mentality".
As well intentioned as they are, the views of both judges are misplaced. There has been a tendency to intellectualise the Privy Council-CCJ debate, one that betrays the intelligentsia's belief that it knows what is best for the Jamaican people. Ironically, it may be argued that this paternalism is itself one of the vestiges of colonialism - backra massa knew what was best for his innocent and naive slaves.
Recent polls suggest that a majority of Jamaicans support the Privy Council as the country's final court of appeal, and with good reason. Twice, since Independence, the Jamaican government - in a calculated and cynical strategy - has launched a direct attack on the Constitution and the civil liberties of Jamaicans.
Serious breach
The 1977 case, Hinds v R, challenged legislation passed by parliament which established the Gun Court. Effectively, the act transferred the jurisdiction of the Supreme Court over criminal firearm offences to a tribunal of resident magistrates who did not enjoy the security of tenure of Supreme Court judges, as guaranteed in the Constitution. The legislation was a serious breach of the principle of separation of powers (as implied by the Constitution) between the judiciary and the executive.
In 2004, in a brazen and Machiavellian move, the Jamaican government attempted to abrogate the constitutional rights of Jamaicans when it rushed legislation through parliament to establish the CCJ as the country's final court of appeal. This was challenged in IJCHR v Syringa Marshall-Burnett, in which it was argued that if appeals to the Privy Council were abolished, the Constitution mandated a referendum to entrench the CCJ so that its judges would enjoy the security of tenure afforded to our Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges in the constitution.
Ironically, in both cases, it was a 'foreign' court - far removed from the corruption and graft of our politics - that stood as the bulwark for the constitutional rights of Jamaicans against government misbehaviour. Indeed, if an argument is to be made for getting rid of the vestiges of colonialism, it is that we should dismantle the Westminster system of government. It is Britain's lasting legacy to her former colonial empire, and it is one which has engendered executive dictatorship (with too much power concentrated into the hands of the prime minister) and, in the case of Jamaica, the fight for scarce benefits and political spoils.
Nationalism has always been the cri de guerre of the proponents of the CCJ. However, it is an argument which stands on feet of clay. On that issue, Marcus Garvey is wrong. Misgovernment is unacceptable and against the rule of law. Robert Mugabe is Zimbabwe's modern-day Ozymandias. It is intellectually dishonest to argue that the Privy Council is comprised of 'foreign' judges when the CCJ itself is chartered to invite other Commonwealth judges to sit in the court. The argument also ignores the fact that four Caribbean chief justices, including Jamaica's own Justice Zacca, have been appointed to the Privy Council.
Given our turbulent and violent political culture, it is a testimony to the integrity of our judiciary that it has, for the most part, remained unscathed and protected from poli-tical interference and corruption. Yet, as the IJCHR case has shown, there is a real risk that the judiciary is susceptible to the emotional appeal of nationalism. There is also the belief that our local courts, at times, take a narrow approach in its interpretation of legislation concerning constitutional rights (the Hinds case), human-rights issues (Pratt and Morgan) and the liability of the state when its servants abuse their power (the Clinton Bernard case). In each case, the profoundly unsatisfactory judgment of our local court was overturned by the Privy Council, ensuring justice for poor and disenfranchised Jamaicans.
It may be argued that the articles of the 2001 Agreement Establishing the Caribbean Court of Justice are so rigid in their provisions that political interference in the court and the manipulation of judges by Caribbean politicians will be virtually possible. Of course, it is not without a sense of irony to note that the agreement itself was written by politicians. In any event, almost all the judges will be drawn from a pool of regional jurists who, ultimately, are appointed to their local judiciary by their respective heads of government. As an example, in Jamaica, members of the judiciary are appointed by the Judicial Service Commission. Yet, four of the six members of the commission hold their positions ultimately on the recommendation of the prime minister. Services commissions are protected in the Constitution but, as the Stephen Vasciannie imbroglio demonstrated, the prime minister can force the resignation of members of a service commission at his pleasure.
Eminent jurists
There is no doubt that the region is not short of eminent jurists who are equal to their peers worldwide. However, the actions of some Caribbean judges invariably bring into question their objectivity and political agenda. In Cayman, recently, the Privy Council ruled that Justice Priya Levers should be removed from the bench as a result of her history of misconduct in making derogatory statements about Jamaican women who appeared in her court.
Earlier this year, Trinidadian High Court Judge, Justice Herbert Philip Volney (a strident critic of the former Patrick Manning government while the judge was on the bench), resigned to run on the winning ticket of Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar. In Jamaica, we have our own example, with former RM judge, Marlene Malahoo-Forte, who was appointed to the Senate.
Whether or not the CCJ will consider itself bound by previous Privy Council decisions remains to be seen. The position of the High Court of Australia is that Australia, having left the Privy Council, is not bound by previous, established rulings. In the context of the Caribbean, this is frightening. It is for this reason why the sceptics of the CCJ regard it as a Trojan horse designed by Caribbean politicians to launch an assault on our civil liberties and human rights.
It was, in fact, dissatisfaction with the Pratt and Morgan ruling and a desire to expedite hanging which provided the catalyst for the previous People's National Party government (and a number of other Caribbean governments) to hastily pass legislation to establish the CCJ as our final appellate court. But, until the Jamaican Government looks into the mirror and, like Caliban, recoils at its revolting image, many Jamaicans will feel quite justified in continuing to believe that the scale of justice is more likely to be balanced 5,000 miles away, in London, among a venerable group of 'foreign' men.
Ashford Meikle is a law student and a member of Jamaicans for Justice. Feedbackmay be sentto columns@gleanerjm.com
Published: Sunday | December 26, 2010 jamaica gleaner
Priya LeversAshford W. Meikle, Contributor
In a recent address to the Cornwall Bar Association, Justice Patrick Robinson blamed a colonial mentality for the failure of Jamaicans to abolish appeals to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council and embrace the Caribbean Court of Justice as the country's final court of appeal.
In advancing his arguments, he quoted Marcus Garvey, saying it was better to misgovern yourself rather than be governed by another.
The eminent jurist's views echo similar sentiments that were expressed just over a year ago by the president of the Court of Appeal, Justice Seymour Panton, who described people favouring a retention of the Privy Council as being "the very wealthy, murderers and the ones with colonial mentality".
As well intentioned as they are, the views of both judges are misplaced. There has been a tendency to intellectualise the Privy Council-CCJ debate, one that betrays the intelligentsia's belief that it knows what is best for the Jamaican people. Ironically, it may be argued that this paternalism is itself one of the vestiges of colonialism - backra massa knew what was best for his innocent and naive slaves.
Recent polls suggest that a majority of Jamaicans support the Privy Council as the country's final court of appeal, and with good reason. Twice, since Independence, the Jamaican government - in a calculated and cynical strategy - has launched a direct attack on the Constitution and the civil liberties of Jamaicans.
Serious breach
The 1977 case, Hinds v R, challenged legislation passed by parliament which established the Gun Court. Effectively, the act transferred the jurisdiction of the Supreme Court over criminal firearm offences to a tribunal of resident magistrates who did not enjoy the security of tenure of Supreme Court judges, as guaranteed in the Constitution. The legislation was a serious breach of the principle of separation of powers (as implied by the Constitution) between the judiciary and the executive.
In 2004, in a brazen and Machiavellian move, the Jamaican government attempted to abrogate the constitutional rights of Jamaicans when it rushed legislation through parliament to establish the CCJ as the country's final court of appeal. This was challenged in IJCHR v Syringa Marshall-Burnett, in which it was argued that if appeals to the Privy Council were abolished, the Constitution mandated a referendum to entrench the CCJ so that its judges would enjoy the security of tenure afforded to our Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges in the constitution.
Ironically, in both cases, it was a 'foreign' court - far removed from the corruption and graft of our politics - that stood as the bulwark for the constitutional rights of Jamaicans against government misbehaviour. Indeed, if an argument is to be made for getting rid of the vestiges of colonialism, it is that we should dismantle the Westminster system of government. It is Britain's lasting legacy to her former colonial empire, and it is one which has engendered executive dictatorship (with too much power concentrated into the hands of the prime minister) and, in the case of Jamaica, the fight for scarce benefits and political spoils.
Nationalism has always been the cri de guerre of the proponents of the CCJ. However, it is an argument which stands on feet of clay. On that issue, Marcus Garvey is wrong. Misgovernment is unacceptable and against the rule of law. Robert Mugabe is Zimbabwe's modern-day Ozymandias. It is intellectually dishonest to argue that the Privy Council is comprised of 'foreign' judges when the CCJ itself is chartered to invite other Commonwealth judges to sit in the court. The argument also ignores the fact that four Caribbean chief justices, including Jamaica's own Justice Zacca, have been appointed to the Privy Council.
Given our turbulent and violent political culture, it is a testimony to the integrity of our judiciary that it has, for the most part, remained unscathed and protected from poli-tical interference and corruption. Yet, as the IJCHR case has shown, there is a real risk that the judiciary is susceptible to the emotional appeal of nationalism. There is also the belief that our local courts, at times, take a narrow approach in its interpretation of legislation concerning constitutional rights (the Hinds case), human-rights issues (Pratt and Morgan) and the liability of the state when its servants abuse their power (the Clinton Bernard case). In each case, the profoundly unsatisfactory judgment of our local court was overturned by the Privy Council, ensuring justice for poor and disenfranchised Jamaicans.
It may be argued that the articles of the 2001 Agreement Establishing the Caribbean Court of Justice are so rigid in their provisions that political interference in the court and the manipulation of judges by Caribbean politicians will be virtually possible. Of course, it is not without a sense of irony to note that the agreement itself was written by politicians. In any event, almost all the judges will be drawn from a pool of regional jurists who, ultimately, are appointed to their local judiciary by their respective heads of government. As an example, in Jamaica, members of the judiciary are appointed by the Judicial Service Commission. Yet, four of the six members of the commission hold their positions ultimately on the recommendation of the prime minister. Services commissions are protected in the Constitution but, as the Stephen Vasciannie imbroglio demonstrated, the prime minister can force the resignation of members of a service commission at his pleasure.
Eminent jurists
There is no doubt that the region is not short of eminent jurists who are equal to their peers worldwide. However, the actions of some Caribbean judges invariably bring into question their objectivity and political agenda. In Cayman, recently, the Privy Council ruled that Justice Priya Levers should be removed from the bench as a result of her history of misconduct in making derogatory statements about Jamaican women who appeared in her court.
Earlier this year, Trinidadian High Court Judge, Justice Herbert Philip Volney (a strident critic of the former Patrick Manning government while the judge was on the bench), resigned to run on the winning ticket of Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar. In Jamaica, we have our own example, with former RM judge, Marlene Malahoo-Forte, who was appointed to the Senate.
Whether or not the CCJ will consider itself bound by previous Privy Council decisions remains to be seen. The position of the High Court of Australia is that Australia, having left the Privy Council, is not bound by previous, established rulings. In the context of the Caribbean, this is frightening. It is for this reason why the sceptics of the CCJ regard it as a Trojan horse designed by Caribbean politicians to launch an assault on our civil liberties and human rights.
It was, in fact, dissatisfaction with the Pratt and Morgan ruling and a desire to expedite hanging which provided the catalyst for the previous People's National Party government (and a number of other Caribbean governments) to hastily pass legislation to establish the CCJ as our final appellate court. But, until the Jamaican Government looks into the mirror and, like Caliban, recoils at its revolting image, many Jamaicans will feel quite justified in continuing to believe that the scale of justice is more likely to be balanced 5,000 miles away, in London, among a venerable group of 'foreign' men.
Ashford Meikle is a law student and a member of Jamaicans for Justice. Feedbackmay be sentto columns@gleanerjm.com
What is carnival?
It is an annual celebration of life found in many countries of the world. And in fact, by learning more about carnival we can learn more about ourselves and a lot about accepting and understanding other cultures.
Where did the word “carnival” come from?
Hundred and hundreds of years ago, the followers of the Catholic religion in Italy started the tradition of holding a wild costume festival right before the first day of Lent. Because Catholics are not supposed to eat meat during Lent, they called their festival, carnevale — which means “to put away the meat.” As time passed, carnivals in Italy became quite famous; and in fact the practice spread to France, Spain, and all the Catholic countries in Europe. Then as the French, Spanish, and Portuguese began to take control of the Americas and other parts of the world, they brought with them their tradition of celebrating carnival.
The dynamic economic and political history of the Caribbean are indeed the ingredients of festival arts as we find them today throughout the African and Caribbean Diaspora. Once Columbus had steered his boat through Caribbean waters, it was only a few hundred years before the slave trade was well established. By the early 19th century, some six million slaves had been brought to the Caribbean. Between 1836 and 1917, indentured workers from Europe, west and central Africa, southern China, and India were brought to the Caribbean as laborers.
African influences on carnival traditions
Important to Caribbean festival arts are the ancient African traditions of parading and moving in circles through villages in costumes and masks. Circling villages was believed to bring good fortune, to heal problems, and chill out angry relatives who had died and passed into the next world. Carnival traditions also borrow from the African tradition of putting together natural objects (bones, grasses, beads, shells, fabric) to create a piece of sculpture, a mask, or costume — with each object or combination of objects representing a certain idea or spiritual force.
Feathers were frequently used by Africans in their motherland on masks and headdresses as a symbol of our ability as humans to rise above problems, pains, heartbreaks, illness — to travel to another world to be reborn and to grow spiritually. Today, we see feathers used in many, many forms in creating carnival costumes.
African dance and music traditions transformed the early carnival celebrations in the Americas, as African drum rhythms, large puppets, stick fighters, and stilt dancers began to make their appearances in the carnival festivities.
In many parts of the world, where Catholic Europeans set up colonies and entered into the slave trade, carnival took root. Brazil, once a Portuguese colony, is famous for its carnival, as is Mardi Gras in Louisiana (where African-Americans mixed with French settlers and Native Americans). Carnival celebrations are now found throughout the Caribbean in Barbados, Jamaica, Grenada, Dominica, Haiti, Cuba, St. Thomas, St. Marten; in Central and South America in Belize, Panama, Brazil; and in large cities in Canada and the U.S. where Caribbean people have settled, including Brooklyn, Miami, and Toronto. Even San Francisco has a carnival!
Carnival in Trinidad and Tobago
Trinidad's carnival is a beautiful example of how carnival can unite the world. For in this small nation, the beliefs and traditions of many cultures have come together; and for a brief five days each year, the whole country forgets their differences to celebrate life!
Like many other nations under colonial rule, the history of Native Americans and African people in Trinidad is a brutal, sad story. Spain and England at different times both claimed Trinidad as their colonies. Under British rule, the French settled in Trinidad, bringing with them their slaves, customs, and culture. By 1797, 14,000 French settlers came to live in Trinidad, consisting of about 2,000 whites and 12,000 slaves. Most of the native peoples (often called the Amerindians) who were the first people to live in Trinidad, died from forced labor and illness.
Carnival was introduced to Trinidad around 1785, as the French settlers began to arrive. The tradition caught on quickly, and fancy balls were held where the wealthy planters put on masks, wigs, and beautiful dresses and danced long into the night. The use of masks had special meaning for the slaves, because for many African peoples, masking is widely used in their rituals for the dead. Obviously banned from the masked balls of the French, the slaves would hold their own little carnivals in their backyards — using their own rituals and folklore, but also imitating their masters’ behavior at the masked balls.
For African people, carnival became a way to express their power as individuals, as well as their rich cultural traditions. After 1838 (when slavery was abolished), the freed Africans began to host their own carnival celebrations in the streets that grew more and more elaborate, and soon became more popular than the balls.
Today, carnival in Trinidad is like a mirror that reflects the faces the many immigrants who have come to this island nation from Europe, Africa, India, and China. African, Asian, and American Indian influences have been particularly strong.
Carnival is such an important aspect of life in Trinidad that many schools believe that sponsoring a carnival band is a way to teach young people about their roots and culture. In Trinidad’s Kiddies Carnival, hundreds of schools and community organizations participate! In this way, communities work together to develop stronger friendships and greater respect for the many cultures that make up Trinidad.
Creating a carnival production
In order to put a carnival band together, it takes many weeks of welding; sewing; gluing; applying feathers, sequins, foil papers, glitter and lots of creativity, energy, and patience. The first step is to come up with a theme or overall concept for the band and to develop costume illustrations for each section of dancers. Costumes are then sewn, decorated, and fitted to each individual dancer. All this creative activity takes place in what are referred to in the Caribbean as “mas camps,” where teamwork and organization are crucial to creating an award-winning production.
The larger costumes are usually more difficult to design and build. Huge frames are created by bending wire into shapes, then covering with paper mâché, foam, and other materials. Physics play an important role, as the costume must be able to move and dance across stages and streets, and not fall apart! Many different forms of decorations and materials (natural and man-made) are used to transform the costume into a dream of the mind’s eye. The Praying Mantis pictured here was created by Ronald Blaize (from Marabella, Trinidad), who also created All Ah We’s Sun Fire King in 1992. Created primarily from wire, netting, foam, and paint, these awesome costumes mesmerize and dazzle spectators.
One of the most incredible artists working today in Trinidad is Peter Minshall. He is acclaimed internationally as the foremost artist working in the field of “dancing mobiles,” a form of performance art that combines the three-dimensional quality of large-scale sculpture with the dramatic and choreographic expressiveness of a live human performer. As Minshall has noted, “The dancing mobile is one of many forms to grow out of the masquerade tradition of Trinidad Carnival.”
The Birth of the Steelband
One of the exciting aspects of Caribbean carnival is the appearance in the early 20th century of the steel pan, which are instruments made from used oil drums that have been cut off on one end and then shaped, pounded, and tuned. Every carnival season, steelbands, composed of one to two hundred pan players, practice for months on end. Ready with their tunes, these steelbands take to the stadiums and the streets, to create some of the most beautiful music in the world.
The history of the steelband in Trinidad and Tobago is directly tied to the banning of all types of drumming in Trinidad in the 1880’s. Though this ban was not readily accepted and rioting resulted, ultimately Africans applied and readapted their tradition of the drum to create new forms and mediums of music, including the tamboo bamboo, a rhythmic ensemble made up of bamboo joints beaten together and pounded on the ground. Biscuit tins and dustbins were manipulated and crafted into instruments, becoming the first “pans.” To explore the roots of pan and understand that this phenomenal music came about through years of struggle and sacrifice, visit Steelbands of Trinidad and Tobago.
Uniting the World
Carnival arts offers all of us a dynamic tool for self-expression and exploration, a tool to seek out our roots, a tool to develop new forms of looking at the world and its cultures, and finally, a tool to unite the world, to discover what we all have in common, and to celebrate what makes us different. The power and creativity that underlies these art forms can transform lives. Join hands with All Ah We, and together we will dance the song of life!
Recommended Reading
Caribbean Festival Arts, written by John W. Nunley and Judith Bettleheim (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1988).
It is an annual celebration of life found in many countries of the world. And in fact, by learning more about carnival we can learn more about ourselves and a lot about accepting and understanding other cultures.
Where did the word “carnival” come from?
Hundred and hundreds of years ago, the followers of the Catholic religion in Italy started the tradition of holding a wild costume festival right before the first day of Lent. Because Catholics are not supposed to eat meat during Lent, they called their festival, carnevale — which means “to put away the meat.” As time passed, carnivals in Italy became quite famous; and in fact the practice spread to France, Spain, and all the Catholic countries in Europe. Then as the French, Spanish, and Portuguese began to take control of the Americas and other parts of the world, they brought with them their tradition of celebrating carnival.
The dynamic economic and political history of the Caribbean are indeed the ingredients of festival arts as we find them today throughout the African and Caribbean Diaspora. Once Columbus had steered his boat through Caribbean waters, it was only a few hundred years before the slave trade was well established. By the early 19th century, some six million slaves had been brought to the Caribbean. Between 1836 and 1917, indentured workers from Europe, west and central Africa, southern China, and India were brought to the Caribbean as laborers.
African influences on carnival traditions
Important to Caribbean festival arts are the ancient African traditions of parading and moving in circles through villages in costumes and masks. Circling villages was believed to bring good fortune, to heal problems, and chill out angry relatives who had died and passed into the next world. Carnival traditions also borrow from the African tradition of putting together natural objects (bones, grasses, beads, shells, fabric) to create a piece of sculpture, a mask, or costume — with each object or combination of objects representing a certain idea or spiritual force.
Feathers were frequently used by Africans in their motherland on masks and headdresses as a symbol of our ability as humans to rise above problems, pains, heartbreaks, illness — to travel to another world to be reborn and to grow spiritually. Today, we see feathers used in many, many forms in creating carnival costumes.
African dance and music traditions transformed the early carnival celebrations in the Americas, as African drum rhythms, large puppets, stick fighters, and stilt dancers began to make their appearances in the carnival festivities.
In many parts of the world, where Catholic Europeans set up colonies and entered into the slave trade, carnival took root. Brazil, once a Portuguese colony, is famous for its carnival, as is Mardi Gras in Louisiana (where African-Americans mixed with French settlers and Native Americans). Carnival celebrations are now found throughout the Caribbean in Barbados, Jamaica, Grenada, Dominica, Haiti, Cuba, St. Thomas, St. Marten; in Central and South America in Belize, Panama, Brazil; and in large cities in Canada and the U.S. where Caribbean people have settled, including Brooklyn, Miami, and Toronto. Even San Francisco has a carnival!
Carnival in Trinidad and Tobago
Trinidad's carnival is a beautiful example of how carnival can unite the world. For in this small nation, the beliefs and traditions of many cultures have come together; and for a brief five days each year, the whole country forgets their differences to celebrate life!
Like many other nations under colonial rule, the history of Native Americans and African people in Trinidad is a brutal, sad story. Spain and England at different times both claimed Trinidad as their colonies. Under British rule, the French settled in Trinidad, bringing with them their slaves, customs, and culture. By 1797, 14,000 French settlers came to live in Trinidad, consisting of about 2,000 whites and 12,000 slaves. Most of the native peoples (often called the Amerindians) who were the first people to live in Trinidad, died from forced labor and illness.
Carnival was introduced to Trinidad around 1785, as the French settlers began to arrive. The tradition caught on quickly, and fancy balls were held where the wealthy planters put on masks, wigs, and beautiful dresses and danced long into the night. The use of masks had special meaning for the slaves, because for many African peoples, masking is widely used in their rituals for the dead. Obviously banned from the masked balls of the French, the slaves would hold their own little carnivals in their backyards — using their own rituals and folklore, but also imitating their masters’ behavior at the masked balls.
For African people, carnival became a way to express their power as individuals, as well as their rich cultural traditions. After 1838 (when slavery was abolished), the freed Africans began to host their own carnival celebrations in the streets that grew more and more elaborate, and soon became more popular than the balls.
Today, carnival in Trinidad is like a mirror that reflects the faces the many immigrants who have come to this island nation from Europe, Africa, India, and China. African, Asian, and American Indian influences have been particularly strong.
Carnival is such an important aspect of life in Trinidad that many schools believe that sponsoring a carnival band is a way to teach young people about their roots and culture. In Trinidad’s Kiddies Carnival, hundreds of schools and community organizations participate! In this way, communities work together to develop stronger friendships and greater respect for the many cultures that make up Trinidad.
Creating a carnival production
In order to put a carnival band together, it takes many weeks of welding; sewing; gluing; applying feathers, sequins, foil papers, glitter and lots of creativity, energy, and patience. The first step is to come up with a theme or overall concept for the band and to develop costume illustrations for each section of dancers. Costumes are then sewn, decorated, and fitted to each individual dancer. All this creative activity takes place in what are referred to in the Caribbean as “mas camps,” where teamwork and organization are crucial to creating an award-winning production.
The larger costumes are usually more difficult to design and build. Huge frames are created by bending wire into shapes, then covering with paper mâché, foam, and other materials. Physics play an important role, as the costume must be able to move and dance across stages and streets, and not fall apart! Many different forms of decorations and materials (natural and man-made) are used to transform the costume into a dream of the mind’s eye. The Praying Mantis pictured here was created by Ronald Blaize (from Marabella, Trinidad), who also created All Ah We’s Sun Fire King in 1992. Created primarily from wire, netting, foam, and paint, these awesome costumes mesmerize and dazzle spectators.
One of the most incredible artists working today in Trinidad is Peter Minshall. He is acclaimed internationally as the foremost artist working in the field of “dancing mobiles,” a form of performance art that combines the three-dimensional quality of large-scale sculpture with the dramatic and choreographic expressiveness of a live human performer. As Minshall has noted, “The dancing mobile is one of many forms to grow out of the masquerade tradition of Trinidad Carnival.”
The Birth of the Steelband
One of the exciting aspects of Caribbean carnival is the appearance in the early 20th century of the steel pan, which are instruments made from used oil drums that have been cut off on one end and then shaped, pounded, and tuned. Every carnival season, steelbands, composed of one to two hundred pan players, practice for months on end. Ready with their tunes, these steelbands take to the stadiums and the streets, to create some of the most beautiful music in the world.
The history of the steelband in Trinidad and Tobago is directly tied to the banning of all types of drumming in Trinidad in the 1880’s. Though this ban was not readily accepted and rioting resulted, ultimately Africans applied and readapted their tradition of the drum to create new forms and mediums of music, including the tamboo bamboo, a rhythmic ensemble made up of bamboo joints beaten together and pounded on the ground. Biscuit tins and dustbins were manipulated and crafted into instruments, becoming the first “pans.” To explore the roots of pan and understand that this phenomenal music came about through years of struggle and sacrifice, visit Steelbands of Trinidad and Tobago.
Uniting the World
Carnival arts offers all of us a dynamic tool for self-expression and exploration, a tool to seek out our roots, a tool to develop new forms of looking at the world and its cultures, and finally, a tool to unite the world, to discover what we all have in common, and to celebrate what makes us different. The power and creativity that underlies these art forms can transform lives. Join hands with All Ah We, and together we will dance the song of life!
Recommended Reading
Caribbean Festival Arts, written by John W. Nunley and Judith Bettleheim (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1988).
Friday, September 16, 2011
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