Dear Editor,
VS Naipaul once observed that Indians have historically lacked what he referred to as the “ideas of inquiry and the tools of scholarship.” He was referring to the Western canon and so the history of the descendants of Girmitiyas (indentured laborers) has traditionally been written by the very same Europeans who shaped our history. By the late 1980s and early 1990s, as Indians showed greater interest in documenting their history, they were told no one was interested in that narrative. Indian history was “too ethnic, too parochial.” The prevailing norms required Indians to suppress their interests and aspire to become “global humanists,” and the subaltern Indians who migrated from the plantations were considered too unsophisticated to appreciate the struggle for universal values.
Academics who wrote about Indian history were still shackled with the vestiges of the “Macaulayan” imposition. Mimicking the early 1900s black experience of Negritude, they coined for us the concept of “coolitude,” encouraging brown diasporans to valorize the “coolie” derivative. The cultural imperialists were “neo-colonizing” our minds from within, using our own kith and kin. It is within this historical context that Indians should examine their own history. Our history must not be indentured to any single individual or institution. The recent narratives on Cheddi Jagan during March month were partially precipitated by the publication of Clem Seecharan’s voluminous political biography on Cheddi.
The adulation for Cheddi is understandable. However, relying upon sentimental reverence rather than respectful criticism perpetuates an injustice to Cheddi’s enduring legacy, and legitimizes the silencing of Indian history. Cheddi himself insisted on “criticism and self-criticism.” Even our former UG Chancellor, Dr. Bertrand Ramcharan, with an extensive lettered diplomatic history, departed from his usual analytical narrative, succumbing to the temptation of an emotional catharsis. The debate will continue, as it should. No doubt, many of Cheddi’s progressive ideas are still relevant.
But there are three takeaways that bear some truth, made pellucid by his own words and actions. For one, Cheddi’s devotion to the Soviet Union (he was no fan of the “Bandung” Non-Aligned Movement) was consequential, objectively leading him to become an enabler of Burnham’s dictatorial rule. There were ideological apparatchiks within his camp who argued for “unconditional” rather than “critical” support for the dictatorship, a mere two years apart from the 1973 army-intervened rigged elections. Secondly, an inescapable fact is that in our plural multicultural society, it was the largely Indian supporters, his devotees, who suffered because Cheddi dedicated a lifetime of struggle for a universal cause, one seemingly more important to him. As Jagan told Professor Birbalsingh in Toronto in October 1984, after 20 years of being in the opposition: “I am not only fighting for the people of Guyana. I am fighting for the people of the world…That struggle is winning. That is why the United States is so hysterical at the moment.” Meanwhile, the US and Western capitalist countries opened their borders to Indians.
Third, Cheddi would have perhaps been more circumspect, more sensitive to the Indian dilemma had he been organically grounded in Indian history – his own history. Instead, he saw ethnicity within the realm of false consciousness, a temporary setback for the international proletarian revolution, which would wither away under the historical and dialectical materialism of “scientific socialism.” He might have better understood the plight of Africans, and perhaps, he might have been aggressively driven to find solutions to our ethnic and divisive politics. Rodney was no less inclined to apply the Marxist analytical tool, but he acknowledged the nuances of race/ethnicity in the anti-colonial struggle. Revealing our natural Indian sentiments was antithetical to the demise of world capitalism, which our Father of the Nation was predicting on his radio broadcasts before 1953 (and yes, Forbes Burnham had something to do with being the father of the nation too!).
None of this takes away from Jagan’s irrepressible commitment to deliver us from the dreaded logies of the plantation economy. Neither does keeping Cheddi on a pedestal require us to crucify other Indians who highlighted his political flaws. Great men – women too – stand on the shoulders of others. Ironically, in their perfunctory defense of Cheddi’s historical legacy, Ralph Ramkarran, Donald Ramotar, and Clement Rohee have all contributed to the silencing of Indian history. Hari Narayen (Ralph) Ramkarran was summarily dismissive of Seecharan’s book. “Seecharan is an historian of modest accomplishments,” he intoned (3/10/24). I doubt Ralph read the book. If Ralph had an appreciation for Indian history, he might have been aware of multiple books written by Seecharan that have left an indelible stain on Indian historiography (not only on cricket!).
One stands out: Bechu: ‘bound Coolie’ Radical in British Guiana, 1894-1901. Bechu, the enigmatic Bengali (Odeen Ishmael identified his actual name as Bhoshunath Chattapadhyay) exposed the abuses of the indenture system, as well as gendered violence against Indian women. Our urbane elite, once groomed by Billy Strachan (of the Communist Party of Great Britain) to be the successor of Cheddi Jagan, is perhaps more focused on solving the world’s imperfections – human inequality, genocide, narco-trafficking, and such.
Donald Rabindranauth Ramotar, our former President, displayed a similar penchant for silencing the Indian voice. Mr. Ramotar has emerged as our national voice of condemnation of the genocide (as we all should be!) against the Palestinians in the Gaza strip (not to be confused with his defence of Putin’s invasion of Ukraine). He was elected to the presidency in 2011, primarily due to the collective strength of Indians. On January 12, 1998, Indians were targeted and beaten on the streets of Georgetown for no other reasons than being Indian and perceived supporters of the PPP. President Janet Jagan refused to commission an inquiry into the ethnic violence. The task was taken up by Indian businessmen who collected the data and compiled the GIFT Report on the civil disorder.
On a live Globespan show on March 13, I asked President Ramotar where his voice of indignation was when atrocities were directed against his own supporters. He was mum. If Ramotar had been concerned about un-silencing and preserving the history of Indians he would have supported calls for a balanced disciplinary forces, lobbied for the digitization of the decaying indentured records kept in the Rodney National Archives, and supported the yearly ritual demands for “Indian” to be reinstated in Arrival Day. But that would deem him an “Indian nationalist.” Invoking his Indianness would be a burden too heavy to bear.
A more egregious example of Ramotar’s silencing of the Indian voice is evidenced by an issue he frequently invokes – Wismar 1964. Referring to the anti-Indian attacks in 1964, he opined, “The real reason for the disturbances in the 1960s which culminated [in] the ethnic cleansing of Mackenzie [Wismar], now Linden is often masked by some historian still infected with a colonial mentality as a racial problem” (KN, 5/15/19). Colonial mentality? Our dear former President must be aware that a report was commissioned on the Wismar atrocities, as well as a UN-funded research conducted by Alissa Trotz and Red Thread which interrogated the victims. Ramotar’s narrative is a brazen attempt to silence the voices of Indians, the very people who supported his Presidential bid.
Clement James Rohee, like Ramotar, has also contributed to the silencing of the Indian voice. Rohee, a regular Stabroek News blogger, writes fondly about the glorious days when he bundled copies of “Moscow News, Granma, Soviet Weekly, New Times and China Today or Peking Review” and peddled them “for $1.00 at meetings.” Describing himself as “a mixed-race Guyanese” from Bent Street, Wortmanville, he captured the anti-Indian sentiments quite well in his book. He recalled a meeting at Plantation Bel Air between Cheddi and several Indians (Doodnauth Singh, Jailall Kissoon, Dr. Ganraj Kumar, and Ayube McDoom), all of whom objected to critical support, which they argued, legitimized the Burnham dictatorship. Not to be outdone, Rohee described these prominent Indians as people expressing “racial and extremists’ sentiments.” They represented what he condescendingly referred to as the “Indian bogey” (code words for Indians who demonstrated concern for their interests).
Rohee has a proclivity for referencing Balram Singh Rai, the PPP Minister of Home Affairs, who was expelled in April 1962. He was too young to know of this historical event. Rohee was 12 years old then and had not joined the PYO until 1968. The election for PPP Party Chairman was rigged by the Jagans, Brindley and Patricia Benn, Jack Kelshall, and others, in favour of Brindley Benn. Most influential Africans had departed the PPP after the 1956/57 split. So understandably, the Jagans had to have an African as the second in command. Rai protested the rigging (detailed in Democracy Betrayed), prompting Fenton Ramsahoye’s famous statement, “the party works in devious ways.” His expulsion from the PPP on June 15, 1962, triggered a series of protests throughout the Colony with PPP support groups adopting resolutions opposing the expulsion. Rai was remembered for his actions to balance the police force and his role (as Minister of Education) in placing Christian schools under government control – clearing a pathway for Indians to become educators and preventing the Christianization of Hindu and Muslim children.
What is of significance is that Benn later “cussed out” Janet for her dictatorial control of the party, left the party in 1968, formed the Maoist Working Peoples Vanguard Party (WPVP), was very critical of Dr. Jagan, opposed critical support, and his WPVP flirted with the WPA. Benn was later re-invited as a member of the “Civic,” rewarded with a seat in Parliament and appointed High Commissioner to Canada. Rai, on the other hand, was denied his parliamentary pension, despite repeated written requests made to Cheddi Jagan after 1992. Before his death, at the age of 100, he stipulated that his pension’s worth be donated to the Dharm Shala. Rai was Indian; Benn was a comrade, a true believer in the global proletarian revolution.
Neither Ralph Ramkarran, Donald Ramotar, Dr. Bertrand Ramcharan or Clement Rohee – and I reiterate – none of these individuals have demonstrated an appreciation for Indian history. Nor can they boast of a public record of defending Indian interests. They have, instead, knowingly in some cases, contributed to the silencing of the Indian voice.
Sincerely,
Baytoram Ramharack
