‘A Stirring of Radicals,’ by Cecil A ‘Blazer’ Williams

A Brief Appreciation by PR Campbell

Dr Cleve Scott, in whose place I stand today, has written on the back cover of Blazer’s book:

“This is a must read if you are interested in politics, trade unionism, popular culture or international relations.”

I wholeheartedly endorse Dr Scott’s testimonial, and I go further. I say that this book is a “must read” for any Vincentian who can read.{{more}}

This book ought to be placed on the booklists if the upper forms of every secondary school and in all levels of every tertiary educational institution in the State.

Every teacher at any level should read “A Stirring of Radicals” for his or her own edification.

This is not merely a novel – indeed, it is not even a novel in the traditional understanding of the term, as embodying a main plot and, perhaps, several sub-plots. It is not an autobiography which chronicles Blazer’s seminal involvement as the cultural godfather of the radical movements of the 1960s and 1970s. It is not a biography of the main activities of the era. It only hints at elements of a love story. There are only fleeting glimpses of drama. There is no central tragedy of the Shakespearean genre. There is no sex in the book, and whatever precious little amorous passion there is, amounts only to the occasional embrace.

No. This book is, in my humble analysis, a brilliantly woven tapestry of the socio-politico-culture awakening and evolution of the progressive organizations in Vincentian society, principally during the turbulent decade covering the period from 1966 to 1976, give or take a year or two on either end of that time span, as seen through the eyes of a secondary school teacher and first-person-narrator Lawrence, centering largely on the exploits of another secondary school teacher Opio, that secondary school being the Progressive Secondary School; and the brooding militant presence of the Moscow-trained, Marxist-Leninist trade unionist, Comrade Repsac.

The book has captured every significant national event of that period – Associated Statehood, the emergence of the Educational Forum of the People, the growth of radical Trade Unionism, the birth of the Women’s Movement and the leadership roles played by progressive sisters in the struggle; the advent of Rastafarianism; the tied elections of 1972; the teachers’ strike and teargassing of 1975; events such as the bell ringing and giving out of messages by Mother Penniston of Kingstown Hill; there are historical references to the Kalinago, to Chatoyer, and to Mc Intosh. Joshua and Cato are called by name, but with commendable deference to the living, Blazer has been content to refer to other significant figures of the times, and at whose identities we can only guess, as “the Fisherman”, and in the case of a certain radical University of the West Indies lecturer pursuing his PhD studies, as “Comrade Everad Goodman”. Contemporary national figures such as Mike Findlay and “Gunny” Hinds come in for honourable mention.”Zupang” and “Babs” of football fame are mentioned posthumously.

Yes, Blazer has captured the essentials of that period in his inimitable style. Blazer is first and forecast a dramatist and a poet.

Right at the outset, on page 2 of the book, the author paints this graphic picture:

“On one school vacation, Opio was taken on one of her trips by his mother on the schooner to Union Island. It was an adventure which he always recounted as one of the most memorable experiences of his life. A squall broke as they sailed past the Bequia channel. The sea turned itself into tumbling mountains and valleys; the wind howled and tugged at the sails; the schooner climbed the mountains and slid down the valleys to rise again out of the jaws of white foaming waves; water splashed across the deck bathing the passengers who dared to jam themselves into an open hatch at the bow holding on to one another for balance; and the crew members manned the sails and moved about the dancing schooner to ensure the safety of cargo and people, as if they were born to do just that. He was particularly impressed by a boy who he thought couldn’t be more than fourteen years and who moved about the schooner with agility assisting the adults as if the petulant sea and wind posed no danger. The fearlessness of the crew moving around the schooner held his attention and like them, he was not afraid; but his mother instinctively held him close, reassuring him from time to time.

“Don’t worry, it will soon stop. God is love.” The sea did calm itself and the schooner made its way to Canouan – not before it was tossed about by jealous waves off Petite Canouan and then on to Union Island.

Later on he writes:

“The dying darkness of the morning unfolded like curtains to reveal the bright spotlight of the sun’s rays widening on the opening of a new scene in the play of life. Was the play moving in the direction of tragedy, or comedy, or tragic-comedy? The day before unfolded a scene of placards, banners, a sit-in, arrests, drumming, chanting and folded upright fists in defiance.”

This is how Blazer presented a classic case of gender abuse, having told us about a jealous lover who took his girl to a dance and then drove her to a secluded spot late at night:

“He raised his polo shirt and pulled his revolver from its holster. He swore that he was going to kill her. She cried hysterically begging for mercy. She would do anything he wanted her to do. Screaming would be useless, because only the crickets and frogs would hear her. He put the revolver to her head. She felt her underwear go wet. He had told her that he had gotten rid of someone before in the same way. She fainted. She recovered when he was almost at the gate of her rented wooden house. She was alive! She virtually flew from the car when it stopped. The gentleman’s car ran off the road into a utility pole a few days after. He died on the spot.”

Blazer may be a chronicler of the times, but he portrays both the radical characters and the people of the day with almost brutal honestly. Witness the following passages:

Describing Comrade Repsac:

“He was a Christian, but he had abandoned going to the Pentecostal church in which he had himself baptized as a born-again in his mid-teens.

An evangelist had come from Holland and held numerous crusades at the Victoria Park. It was a few years after the crusades that the evangelist turned one of the wooden structures, close to the Anglican Bishop’s Court, into a church. Comrade Repsac frequented the Victoria Park to play flannel ball cricket and three-goals-kick-out-kick-in football. His ears couldn’t escape the lively singing, clapping and music from the church which appeared to come alive in the late afternoon when those who frequented the Park were retiring from their exhausting physical activities. He was invited to “come to church” by a former schoolmate. He went and was overpowered by the Holy Spirit. His water baptism followed not too late thereafter.”

And describing an inaugural people’s rally at the Ottley Hall Beach, he observes:

“There was an area which was used as a playing field just before the black sand beach. We parked Brother Shaka’s pick-up on the field and used battery as our source of power for our sound system. Speeches about the History of Labour Day were given by Comrade Repsac. Brother Maxi gave a comprehensive analysis of what was happening to workers in the public sector. He indicated that his Union was reorganizing itself and preparing for serious struggles ahead. There were drummers and poets who read and recited poems on justice liberation and love, and dancers from a number of cultural groups who performed in traditional and African costumes. We circulated handouts on the History of Labour Day and on the nature and programme of the Peoples Movement for Genuine Development.

“Many of the persons present were not always focused on the rally. They listened and looked, then made a dash for the sea, got out of the water, listened and looked, then made a dash for the sea.”

This is how he narrated the summary dismissal of the central character:

“As I was about to enter Back Street I saw the postman on his bicycle turning into the street from which I was just existing.

“Mr. Lawrence, I have a letter for you,” he called out as he stopped his bicycle and dismounted.

“He opened his long-strapped dark brown canvas bag, reached in and took out a brown envelope and handed it to me. I took it and said thanks. I instinctively felt that my dismissal letter had arrived. I opened it immediately. The letterhead of Progressive secondary stood out. I read swiftly. My services were no longer required with immediate effect. The letter was signed by the Secretary to the Board of Governors. I had become an addition to the unemployment heap.”

The poet in Blazer spat at that injustice:

“The Board of Governors had come alive, did their task and, most likely, had disappeared once more to hibernate under decaying leaves in their pond of apathy.”

I conclude this brief appreciation with one of my favourite quotations from this magnificent work by one of this region’s most blessed and creative Brothers, whom I have the genuine honour and privilege to be able to call my friend.

“I understand the feeling. We cannot abandon the future of the country, because of those who appear to be trapped in the vain gloriousness of the politics of narcissism,” Opio’s brief creative description spoke volumes to those who understood the English language.”