I was rather pleasantly surprised when I received an email from Sir Neville’s daughter Sardia, with a simple request from Sir Neville, affectionally “Chandel mol” seeking a review of his manuscript “C’est l’heure: Crossing the Divide.” How could I decline the request of the former Governor-General and given so many unanswered questions concerning the events surrounding that fateful decision of 1987. I knew without a doubt that whatever else the book promised, 1987 would feature prominently and so with much anticipation I consented.
Not so long ago, I noted that one of the unfortunates about Caribbean politicians is that few of them produce political memoirs leaving this primarily to academics. While these academic works are quite useful, they do carry with them the taint of bias. And yes, autobiographies can be accused of the same and more, often engaging in vanities, self-indulgence, egotistical and distorted recollections of history and their part in that history. Too often politicians elevate themselves over events and people. But political autobiographies are critical.
One of the most important aspects of the book is the author’s meticulous use of personal notes taken at critical junctures and reference to official documentation which he used liberally throughout the work. These provide much authenticity and make for easy verification.
This political memoir written three decades after he exited electoral politics, after a political career which spanned over four decades, and having served as Governor General chronicles his political journey. It is written in a style that is not always easily digestible, but it moves with relative ease between the native language patois and the language of the colonial master. It is a book which should not be read just once, there is simply far too much to absorb, far too much to disentangle.
Sir E. Neville Cenac’s 288 page, C’est l’heure: Crossing the Divide, fills in a void, and attempts to answer questions that many St. Lucians have pondered since 1987. The political autobiography is partly motivated by the need of the author to clear the air on what is perhaps one of the most controversial political party and parliamentary developments in the country. Many readers would recall 1987 and the unprecedented two general elections called by then Prime Minister John Compton designed to improve the parliamentary strength of the UWP in the context of a very slim working majority. It was the crossing of the floor by the author that provided that parliamentary majority which the PM thought desirable. The autobiography makes a valiant attempt to set the record straight. But it is his recollections of events, and some of those recollections may not sit easily with persons who were intimately connected to the events that he so painstakingly seeks to reconstruct and in which he makes himself the focal point of the major developments.
But Sir Neville is cognisant of this and assures that in his narrative “the important answer to the question as to why the faithful Labour birdie flew from its very cosy Labour nest in 1987 will satisfy all but his hunters.” The reader however will be left in little doubt that the spectre of 1987 still haunts him. The pain of that decision is etched on the pages of the manuscript and amply demonstrated by his words “Even after thirty years, my heart is still heavy in having to put it in writing and reflect upon it, for it is a painful thing to have to forsake the place you love and seek refuge elsewhere”. The reader will be drawn to chapters 17 and 18, “The Most Unkindest Cut of All” and The Cross of Chandel “Si Libenter cruchem portes portabit te” in which he seeks to justify and explain his separation from the party.
But the autobiography does far more than that. Understandably, it takes the reader through a guided tour of 1940-1980s Saint Lucia, providing glimpses into the early life of Sir Neville, detailing his family’s life and specifically his journey from poverty to parliament and the cabinet. It is far too easy for many of us who have benefitted from education to forget what colonial Saint Lucia represented. It was an elitist society with few if any opportunities for those who were unfortunate to be born of non-white, non-privileged working-class families. It was precisely of that class that Sir Neville was born, and Sir Neville paints a vivid portrait, unvarnished truths of family relations, trials, and triumphs.
Few of us today may know much if anything about the history of Sir Neville but this book paints a picture of a working-class boy whose academic prowess enabled him to win a scholarship providing him with the opportunity to escape what many other working-class children were unable to do. So quite rightly he devotes a considerable amount of the autobiography to his early life and that of his family.
One of the values of the autobiography is therefore the opportunity provided to the citizenry to become familiar with Neville Cenac. In the pages of the book, we meet Neville Cenac, the boy, the aspiring politician, the father, husband, friend, mentee, Labourite, City councillor, loyalist, “defector”, representative, ambitious, member of the House, and cabinet member.
The first few pages of the book recount the family history which cannot be divorced from class, while the second half of the book revolves around party politics, the rise and fall of the Saint Lucia Labour party, his seminal role in healing the fracture in the party following the disastrous 1964 elections, the formation of the Saint Lucia Labour Action Movement (SLAM), his role in single-handedly elevating Julian Hunte to the leadership of the SLP as and ultimately his split with the Labour party.
Even while some may question his assessment of his role as kingmaker and the saviour of labour between 1964-1978 when he writes “In the fourteen lean years (1964 to 1978) of the Labour Party, had I not persuaded Sir Allan, the SLP might have had to resort to priests, prophets and diviners to drive Compton’s UWP out of the seat of power”, no doubt Sir Neville is well placed to speak on the ills of party politics in Saint Lucia. This is specifically true of the SLP and to a limited extent UWP, both of which he served. He does not disappoint as he vigorously critiques partisan politics and the nature of leadership.
Beyond providing the reader with a rare insight into the political history of Saint Lucia, and the intersection of class, status and politics, the autobiography resurrects so many long-forgotten powerful politicians and their contributions to the socio-economic and political development of the country. We are regaled with stories about the Bousquet brothers, Kenneth Foster, George Charles, John Compton, the Odlums and others, and the reader is immediately transported to the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s, a time which seemed ripe with opportunities. He showcased his intimate knowledge of many of the pre and post-independence party politics developments in Saint Lucia as well as of key politicians in the country. Many of these like Kenneth Foster and JMD Bousquet he credits with piquing his interest in elective politics and ultimately mentoring him whether accidentally or deliberately.
But beyond this, are the musings on governance with an entire chapter devoted to “floor crossing”, institutional reformations and constitutional change, themes that are on the current national political agenda. Throughout, it is clear that Sir Neville abhors many of the political institutional practices and he therefore offers the readers alternatives though without necessarily always providing convincing rationalisation for them. But this was not the prime objective of the autobiography.
It is a book worth reading, compelling, rich in detail and an excellent contribution to the understanding of party politics in twentieth-century Saint Lucia. The 20 chapters are in bite sizes, focusing on key moments in time and developments but with a common thread linking the twenty chapters to create a powerful story.
*Professor: Constitutional Governance & Politics, Department of Government, Sociology, Social Work and Psychology, Faculty of Social Sciences, University of the West Indies, Cave Hill Campus, Barbados.