Look to Jamaica
By Clayton Goodwin
Standing down in the face of shameless opportunism
Has a noble history
The sound sense of the major political parties – Labour, Conservatives, Liberal Democrats, Greens – in not playing along with Nigel Farage’s coup de theatre in staging a by-election in Clacton, the constituency of which he was the MP, shows greater maturity and sounder sense than I had thought to be possible from the British political system. It is a pity that the showdown between the otherwise irrelevant Count Binface and the ever more preposterous Farage has been impeded to some, though not great, extent by the entry of a gaggle of other fringe candidates with no opportunity really to prove anything. Count Binface has mimicked and underscored the essence of Faragism. Standing down in the face of shameless opportunism – the electoral equivalent of the Boycott in politics – has a noble history.
By chance I happened to be in Jamaica, touring the region in my post as editor of The Caribbean Handbook, when the U.S.A. and its local allies intervened militarily – invaded – Grenada on 25th October 1983. Opinion in the island was divided – much as the electorate is split more or less equally, each taking a turn at the helm of government, between the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) and the People’s National Party (PNP). This time it was the JLP led by Edward Seaga, a keen supporter of the USA, where, indeed, he had been born. His keenness to follow President Ronald Reagan into conflict was not matched by the more left-ward leaning PNP led by Michael Manley. There was every prospect of civil disturbance which would have been exacerbated by an residual feeling from the violence of the two most recent general elections.
Trust having been broken
Stroll to apparent victory
There was already a truce that no further general election would be called pending the updating of the electoral roll amid allegations of voter fraud. Manley, too, it is understood, stayed his hand in the expectation that that in the event of an American/Allies victory over the small Eastern Caribbean island his rival, flushed with success, would not call a “war election” to take advantage of the military impetus. To the surprise of his opponents, at least, Prime Minister Seaga, went to the polls on 15th December 1983. We heard considerable talk of trust having been broken amid the near-certainty that, euphoric in triumph, the JLP would be returned in triumph.
The PLP were having none of it. They cited the understanding to await the approval of the new electoral role and played the only weapon available to them by boycotting the election. And they stuck by that decision. Presented with a series of open goals the JLP strolled home in every one of the 60 parliamentary seats with 89.67% of the ballots cast (there were a few minor parties). Champions – they had the field to themselves. Not quite. The PNP’s silence, instead of the raucous hustings, drew greater attention to their grievance against those they considered had broken trust and, with total power, the JLP could not avoid censure for any- and everything – that went wrong in the next five years. In the (translated) words of Julius Caesar after the battle of Pharsalus “they had wanted it”. When Jamaica voted again on 9th February 1989 the morally-enhanced PNP won 45 out of the 60 seats, and, surviving Manley’s passing, held power into the next century.
Batting on a very different wicket
In terms of electoral success Edward Seaga’s ploy of a snap election had been justified, but his rivals’ tactics had ensured that when normal service was resumed they – the PNP – would return in triumph. Nigel Farage is unlikely to be unseated by Count Binface. Yet his hollow victory in a “contest” in which none of the major contenders had taken part would be empty. And when the citizens of Clacton go to the polls again, which could be quite soon, he, and they, will be batting on a verry different wicket.