Remembering Cheddi Jagan
Remembering Cheddi Jagan
Fragments from memory
By Moses V. Nagamootoo
My last lap with Cheddi JaganON 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.)
PPP Says "Unite Around Lesson Of Dr Cheddi Jaga
The People’s Progressive Party (PPP), in marking the 3rd death anniversary of the late General Secretary of the PPP and President of Guyana, says "the life and work of Dr. Cheddi Jagan grows more important to Guyana with every passing year."
It says "this important year in the history of humankind, which also marks the 50th anniversary of the founding of the PPP, is an appropriate time to reflect on his multi-faceted and enduring legacy which as ennobled our nation."
According to a Freedom House release: "In almost every aspect of public affairs Dr. Cheddi Jagan stamped an indelible legacy and his outstanding personal qualities remain an example for every person, particularly Guyanese, to emulate.
The statement added: "Cheddi Jagan began his adult life with one main purpose, to serve the interests of the working people of Guyana by fighting for their liberation and empowerment. His devotion to this single cause has taken our nation through an adventure of freedom struggle and has taught us unforgettable lessons of heroism, dedication, sacrifice and humility - qualities with which he was endowed in full measure, and which he demonstrated with increasing firmness as the challenges against the PPP and the nation multiplied."
The PPP is calling on all Guyanese to unite around the lessons, "which Dr. Cheddi Jagan has left us, and to continue the struggle for unity and social justice."
To observe the 3rd death anniversary of the Father of the Nation, the PPP has organized a month-long series of activities, which starts on Sunday, March 5th with a Tribute Rally at Babu John, Port Mourant.
The rally is to be addressed by President Bharrat Jagdeo, former President Janet Jagan, General Secretary Donald Ramotar and other Party leaders. The youth arm of the PPP, the PYO, and the women’s arm, the WPO, have also planned commemorative activities.
"We urge all Guyanese to fully participate in these events," according to the ruling Party.
Some people called him CBJ, letters for Cheddi Bharrat Jagan. He’d explained time and again that ‘Bharrat’ wasn’t one of his names. But although he was a stickler for details, for discipline and for professionalism, the late Dr. Cheddi Jagan decided at that there were much more important things to fume over.
For as long as Guyanese can remember, Dr. Jagan’s major goals were to see his people unite, not giving up their unique cultural heritage but working together to create a single national identity, and taking on the responsibility, with government as facilitator, for self-fulfilment and living standard improvements. He spent his adult years realizing those goals.
His death on March 6, 1997, didn’t plunge the Guyanese society "into a state of emotional paralysis," as one writer put it, only because Guyanese of all races, of all walks of life, loved and admired him dearly. Guyanese mourned because he single-handedly bore the torch that kindled their hopes for the peace, progress and prosperity that had eluded them after December 1964.
Dr. Jagan had been the Moses of Guyanese that had brought them from the abyss of party paramouncy and socio-economic chaos to the promised haven of democracy and freedom, a society in which individual initiative could flourish. People who were demeaned and overlooked because of their social status became freshly assertive. Those who had festered the tendency to bypass others because of race had to cross the lines of ethnicity before they could join Dr. Jagan in any process to transform Guyana into a society of one people.
H. Z. Ally said a mouthful in a 1998 tribute to Dr. Jagan’s memory when he wrote that, "unlike so many others who got carried away with positions of power, influence and intellect, Dr. Jagan made use of his tremendous powers of intellect to advance the cause for which he believed - the betterment of life for the working people."
Attempts by Guyana’s colonial masters and local reactionaries to marginalize him failed. He remained ever focused, determined to use the remainder of his life to reshape the Guyanese landscape. When he became the first elected President in Guyana’s first free and transparent elections in October 1992, Dr. Jagan said "the people have won." Democracy had returned to Guyana after 28 years and with it opportunities for them to begin anew the journey toward development.
By the time he succumbed to nature’s call in 1997, Dr. Jagan had made Guyanese proud. Better housing, improved water supply, the rebuilding of the country’s rundown infrastructure, a higher standard of education, the independence of the judiciary and trade union movement, freedom of expression, an easing of racial tensions, high worker incomes, stable electricity - these and more became the order of the day.
"The remarkable thing about the late President Jagan," someone wrote, "was the strength and tenacity of his conviction and his ability to see beyond the immediate."
As we commemorate the 3rd anniversary of his death, may we reflect on his multi-faceted and enduring legacy and resolve to unite around the lessons he left.
PPP Government Devoted To Peoples' Interest
by Hugo BrentlyThe establishment of the University of Guyana in 1963, and now its extension-the Berbice Campus-will go down as quite outstanding contributions to the Nation's development. No less in importance has been the People's Progressive Party's contribution to agriculture through its activities in distribution of land for agriculture, and for housing. What is interesting about those two programmes is that they have been pushed through in the face of the most intensive opposition in the 1960s and as the new Millennium dawned.
In the run up to the establishment of the University of Guyana, the PNC and other opposition elements declared that Guyana should continue its relationship with UWI and not establish its own University. As anyone who observes the strategies of the PNC, will realise, every obstacle, and argument which was available to that group was thrown into action. It was no wonder then that they and the United Force went to the extent to claiming that the University was being set up with Cuban money, and that the foreign tutors and distinguished Dr Lancelot Hogben were communist fellow travellers. The University was dubbed "Jagan night school."
Today Guyanese in general are proud of the institution, and many PNC leaders have been students, as well as tutors there. Another massive opposition protest then, which to some extent, continues today is the PPP's land distribution for agriculture and for housing. It should not have been any thing strange to them. Cheddi Jagan, since His entry into politics and in Parliament in 1947, was the lone voice pleading and demanding for drainage and irrigation and land to the tiller. And his demand did not exclude the Amerindians, who today, seem to be getting a lot of new friends.
Dr Jagan's name must be associated with all the drainage and irrigation schemes - with the establishment of the Black Bush Polder, the Tapacuma, the Boeraserie, the Mahaica/Mahaicony and the greater Canje drainage and irrigation project, which opened millions of acres for agriculture including pasturage and for settlement. His pressures also caused the Colonial Government to purchase Mara Ma Retraite in the Berbice River and garden of Eden on the Demerara. Thousands of people have been settled on these lands. Thousands have been able to grow from fifteen-acre farmers to wealthy persons.The Government of the PPP rooted in its devotion to the peoples' interest will continue its tasks despite every opposition.
