The Heroic Construction of St. Kitts’ ‘Papa’ Bradshaw

Carleen Payne

Heroism has never been a question merely of what is done, but of how and why it is done and for whom.

Excerpted from Heroes: From Byron to Guevera (1977), p. 199.

Introduction

For over five centuries of colonization, the most visible reminders of heroism in the Caribbean — conquerors and settlers — have been of European provenance. But the English-speaking territories have moved from being the theatre of heroic deeds to inventing their own heroic traditions. Indeed, there has been a remarkable attempt since the last half century to create a recognizable pantheon of indigenous heroes. Since hastily returning the ashes of Marcus Garvey to Jamaica in 1964, the island has secured a gallery of seven. Although Barbados (with at least ten) leads the way, other territories like Antigua, Dominica, and St. Vincent have joined in the post-colonial project of heroic (re)construction. Even Montserrat, which is not yet an independent nation, has its candidate in William Henry Bramble. Robert Llewellyn Bradshaw — the subject of this essay — is the first National Hero of St. Kitts-Nevis.1

Despite the ongoing preoccupation with heroism in the English-speaking Caribbean, few scholars have given serious thought to how the phenomenon unfolds and what it means for the region.2 I believe the story of how an ordinary individual becomes great in a particular place might shed light on (and at the same time nuance) the larger picture. But as Alan Nolan reminds us in his "consideration" of the United States’ civil war hero General Robert E. Lee, people do not like for their heroes to be reexamined.3 Therefore, it should be said at the outset that to explore the heroization of the former labour leader-turned-premier is to better understand him, not diminish him.

Indeed, the broader purpose of this essay is to delineate and analyze the ingredients that facilitate heroic ascendance in our region. This approach is intended to facilitate the construction of the heroic on a wider canvas than traditional biographies allow. The term ‘construction’ (borrowed from the social sciences) relates first of all to the malleability of heroism. As the independence politics of ‘founding fathers’ have shown, the hero can indeed be manipulated and turned into the inert possession of the establishment. The term also connotes a concerted effort to build a reputation for greatness. The latter activity is more dynamic involving the initial heroic behaviour as well as the innovative means through which it gains recognition or becomes legendary overtime.

In former colonies, in particular, very few of the indigenous heroes gained prominence through their own efforts. This had less to do with their lack of heroism and more with the exigencies of the colonial milieu. As Franz Fanon argues, our ancestors "fought as well as they could, with the arms that they possessed", but their heroic acts went unrecognized due to the "marginal context of survivalism" in which they occurred.4 In fact, they were more likely to be demonized for attempted subversion of the colonial order. Thus, in his Searching for the Invisible Man, Michael Craton asserts convincingly: "Only when the victim is recognized as hero, his dignity restored, his aspirations fulfilled, will the ordinary black countryman … come into his own."5 It can be concluded, therefore, that the building blocks for the anticipated heroic (re)-construction might well include the creative response of post-colonial society to the heroic overtures of their forbears.6 The exact nature of this response in the former British colonies merits examination.

Caribbean-Style Heroic Construction

The vindication of indigenous ‘movers and shakers’ has been vigorously pursued by nationalist governments in alliance with a crusading print media. A former Jamaican Prime Minister who presided over the official heroic recognition of Nanny and Sam Sharpe in 1975 argued that the "courageous acts of self-assertion" by our ancestors were "unquestionably heroic" taking place as they did "against the background of cruelty, human degradation, and persistent denigration."7 In his carefully documented Wars of Respect, E. Kamau Brathwaite rescued the slave rebels from historical obscurity. Sylvia Wynter, who provided the justification for the heroization of Norman Manley and Alexander Bustamante in 1969, situated them at the forefront of the "struggle of the majority of our people to transform ourselves from being the object of the history of our nations, into the agent and creative subject of our own."8

As I have indicated elsewhere, scholarly endorsement of the latter-day Caribbean hero(ine) has implications for a much needed reconsideration of what constitutes greatness in our islands.9 Notions of "an unblemished character, closely allied to humility of purpose and the execution of the Divine Will"—i.e. the European—derived ‘great men’ concept—simply do not obtain here.10 "The great leaders of the colonized people" says Fanon, are always those who led the national resistance."11 Therefore a radical anti-colonial campaign becomes a powerful fertilizing agent in heroic recognition. This protracted struggle is complemented by the tendency of such individuals to locate their greatness within their humble origins. Self-styled charismatic behaviour also allows political heroes to develop a dynamic relationship with the crowd.12

Thus, although the controversial Marcus Garvey was not a favourite subject of study for early West Indian writers, revisionist historians are more inclined to treat his internationalization of the black anti-colonial struggle as heroic, and hail him as the prototype of the ‘new’ Caribbean hero.13 In addition, many of the popular labour and political leaders of the late colonial era enhanced their reputations by fabricating or taking on a persona to complement their perceived roles — whether it was "Joshua" Manley, Cipriani — ‘the barefoot man of the street’, ‘Ma’ Eugenia or ‘Papa’ Bradshaw.14 The recent emergence of cricket history as a field of study has served up the batsman hero of international renown who (until recently) defeated the colonials at their own game. And while the emphasis has been on anti-colonial leadership, anti-slavery agency—perhaps the most difficult to (re)construct—is increasingly gaining recognition.

Although the popular classes have been known to entertain their own ‘folk’ heroes,15 the extent to which militant behaviour gains national recognition depends, in part, on the constructive response of the post-colonial audience to the historic record of heroic behaviour. The privileged witnesses to such charismatic displays—be it the crowd, or archeologist—have often committed their version of events surrounding heroic emergence to the popular imagination. Collective memories, nurtured by the oral tradition, can elevate prominent individuals to mythological status. As indicated above, nationalists in search of emblems can also influence the extent to which an individual is reified overtime. In the ‘imagined community’ of the nation, a newly acclaimed hero or heroine is likely to become what Benedict Anderson calls a "cultural artifact" alongside national flag and anthem.16 Thus there should be some appreciation on the part of the biographer for the broader process of heroic construction that takes place.

My own contribution is to attempt to gauge the multifaceted impetus behind Bradshaw’s rise from "commoner to king."17 I argue here that Bradshaw’s heroic ascendancy was effected in several interconnected ways. First, ongoing popular support during his odyssey was sustained in part by an intimate (paternalistic?) connection to the Kittitian working population. His rebellious behaviour in the colonial context and his charismatic self-fashioning endeared him to a majority of Kittitians and committed him to popular memory. Finally, Bradshaw’s ascendance into legendry can be attributed to representations emerging out of the popular consciousness; scholarly and media mobilization on his behalf, as well as official recognition of his heroism in the post-colonial era. Another aspect which influenced the heroization process (particularly in the early years) was Bradshaw’s extreme relevance to the demands of his time.

Bradshaw’s Appeal as Popular Hero

As James Sutton points out in his memoirs of early childhood days in St. Kitts, it was Sir Thomas Warner — an English Captain credited with first ‘settling’ the island in 1623 — who was "commemorated with great celebration." On Empire Day (the Birthday of Queen Victoria) teachers and children alike participated in a patriotic programme "praising England’s might and power."18 While the Victoria Monument has been moved around Basseterre with increasing visibility over the years, a Carib woman Barbe has gone down in local legend as the one who warned the English of a plot to massacre them. Carib leader Tegreman is remembered for being slaughtered during the retaliatory attack by the English in the 1600s, while Maroon leader Markus of the Woods is yet to be rescued from the notoriety he incurred for his "skillful use" of a musket in the resistance to enslavement.19

But the conviction that the ‘real’ heroes in St. Kitts were not European sovereigns or settlers has been increasingly propagated in recent years. In his 1993 memoirs Washington Archibald bewails the fact that in colonial St. Kitts "all our heroes were white" and expressed the hope that Kittitian leaders were "enlightened enough to banish the ghost of Christopher Columbus from our island and vindicate and placate that of Chief Tegreman."20 As late as 1997, Rudy Parker complains: "Our models and our heroes are all white, even our Queen is white. It must be easily understood why our people have such low self esteem."21 But biographer Whitman Browne had, as early as 1992, already sought to make a case for Bradshaw’s recognition as hero. Said Browne: Bradshaw’s stature, his high level of success in bringing change to St. Kitts, Nevis and Anguilla made him a hero."22

In many respects, Bradshaw was the ideal candidate. He fits the profile of many of the Chief Ministers, Premiers and Prime Ministers who presided over constitutional de-colonization and who predominate among National Heroes. They were for the most part: "Men who share[d] many of the characteristics of their fellows, non-white if not black, often self-educated, mainly proletarian in class origins, if not always in their sympathies."23 This self-proclaimed ‘man of the people’24 also engaged in the anti-colonial campaign that makes for greatness in the English-speaking Caribbean. Ironically, while Bradshaw became great in his native St. Kitts, he was less enthusiastically received by other members of the three-island federation. This outcome suggests the importance of environment — particularly land-use differences — in making Bradshaw more relevant, and ultimately more revered, on St. Kitts.

One explanation for the protracted Labour Movement on St. Kitts can be gleaned from a look at the key dilemma facing sugar workers for over three hundred years.25 From the 1640s onwards, the main feature in the island (as in much of the Caribbean) was an economic and social structure based on the plantation system. However, while most islands had abandoned the plantation economy by the turn of the twentieth century, it remained entrenched on St. Kitts. Gordon Lewis reported as late as 1968: "large corporate sugar estate utilizing the labour of a landless sugar tenantry has remained, up until the present time, the controlling feature of all Kittitian life."26 On the other hand, while some Nevisians sent their cane to the St. Kitts sugar factory, livelihood on the smaller island was largely focused on village agriculture and livestock husbandry. The more remotely positioned Anguilla had not experienced the plantation system and had little in the way of a peasantry. Thus of the three territories, the plantation society of St. Kitts was more conducive to the making of a labour legend.

It is commonly assumed that a leadership vacuum existed until Bradshaw came on the scene in the 1940s. But in the early 1900s, many ‘pioneers’ of the St. Kitts Labour movement sought to improve conditions for the impoverished, disenfranchised masses.27 Not only did a Trades Union (Prohibition) Ordinance make it difficult for them to organize, but they failed to gain adherents among the field workers. Glen Richards mentions a variety of reasons including their "authoritarian tendencies" and their dislike of confrontation.28 Not surprisingly, the workers resorted to ‘autonomous’ survival strategies such as the expropriation of ‘mountain grounds’, friendly societies banking, and migration.29 However, the intense political ferment from the 1930s onwards alerted Kittitian labourers to the availability of more effective weapons to deploy in the struggle for socio-economic and political equality. With the passage of the Trade Unions Act of 1939 and the subsequent formation of the St. Kitts-Nevis Trade and Labour Union in 1940, workers were able to successfully agitate for improvements in their pay and living conditions. With the introduction of adult suffrage in the 1950s, the plantation workers "faced their employers as equals."30

But the accentuated zeal on the part of labourers for more ‘organized’ livelihood strategies was intimately related to the emergence by the 1940s of a new breed of working class leaders among the union executive. According to Glen Richards, "growing disaffection in the ranks" culminated in the replacement of the conservative coloured middle class elements by more radical grassroots representatives.31 In fact, this race and class based transition opened the door for Bradshaw’s meteoric rise within the echelons of organized labour after he was fired for his role in a 1940 strike for higher wages. By 1944, he had outdistanced even his former ally and mentor, Joseph M. Sebastian and was elected Vice-President of the Workers’ League.32 In 1946, he became president of the St. Kitts-Nevis Trade and Labour Union—a post which he held for the rest of his life. Thus even before he embarked on his career in formal politics, he was pivotally positioned for what he himself termed "individual service to the people."33 Bradshaw therefore became their weapon of choice. And while his battle was fought on several fronts, it was with respect to the confrontation with the sugar barons than he most affected the labourers.

Bradshaw Versus the Plantocrats

When Bradshaw first came to historical notice in the years following the 1935 labour revolt on St. Kitts, the conditions that had produced determined strike action were particularly grave. Washington Archibald describes the island of his childhood as "a society where poverty paraded like the mark of the beast." "The poor who had nothing," he says, "lived by the mercy of their landlords."34 Of his early childhood in St. Pauls, Bradshaw himself admitted:

Our lives were the same as other people in the village: no rich people there; the biggest people were the shopkeepers and above them the estate owners and overseers. The village was totally set on estate lands, the result being that people were not quite free. Because, if they offended the owners of the estates on which they lived, the usual punishment was swift and severe, namely, they had to remove their houses to another location which was not easily found.35
Thus they evoke a haunting spectacle of a modern proletariat precariously dependent on a plantation economy for their livelihood. Such desperate conditions fuelled the campaign for the clearly articulated goal of "higher wages and perfect personal freedom" for much of the twentieth century.36

The estate owners (some fifty families appearing in the guise of the Sugar Producers’ Association) had maintained control of over 33,000 acres of the arable land. Their position was buttressed by a London-based company which had established the Basseterre Sugar factory and maintained the sugar cane infrastructure from the early 1900s. Perhaps the most formidable local opposition sprung from Basil Davis, a white descendant of the landed aristocracy whose position as General manager of the St. Kitts Sugar Factory from the late 1930s gave him "power over the lives of many from the cradle to the grave."37 But Bradshaw was among the workers who "walked out" on Davis in 1939 when a request for wages was denied. This personal vendetta probably fuelled his pivotal involvement in the mass strikes and demonstrations that characterized the nineteen forties.

The thirteen weeks strike of 1948 stands out as the most decisive of these ‘showdowns.’ As in previous years, it was not primarily driven by the stated objective of ‘cutting by the line, not by the ton.’ Rather, it was the determination "to attain through industrial action what the union leaders had failed to win through constitutional means."38 In testing their strength against that of the estate owners, the workers did not rule out actual confrontation. At a mass gathering during the dramatic standoff, Bradshaw alluded to the possibility of blood shed: "Let me sound the warning to the employer class, do not precipitate acts of violence in this island for it would be sad for most of us."39 The effectiveness of his battle strategy—what we now know as psychological warfare—can be gleaned from the alarmist correspondence that were sent to the Colonial Office. One such letter accused Bradshaw of being a "public menace" and recommended that he be removed from the island or placed under "proper control".40 The protracted standoff almost brought the sugar industry to a standstill. But the battle was not yet over.

Since the 1940s, Bradshaw had supported public ownership of the sugar lands on St. Kitts and had agitated for the factory to be operated as a public enterprise. His repeated attempts to introduce resolutions calling for nationalization had for the most part been dismissed. By the 1970s, members of the St. Kitts Sugar Producers Association began to seriously entertain proposals for the salvaging of the then ailing industry either through joint responsibility or outright government purchase. After negotiations to purchase estate lands in 1975 broke down, Bradshaw’s government ruled by legislation to acquire all the plantation land on the island. The canefields were quickly vested in the National Agricultural Corporation and thus brought under effective government control. By December 1976, the government successfully negotiated the acquisition of the assets of the St. Kitts Sugar Factory.41

Bradshaw’s detractors, of course, saw his action as a betrayal. Washington Archibald, one of his severest critics, charged "he himself had now become the plantocrat, the biggest in the history of his country."42 If, as Archibald assumes, Bradshaw’s mission was "to lead his people out of the sugar industry into the freedom of a modern economy", then the mission remained incomplete.43 But if his goal was to simply re-possess the land from an intransigent planter class on behalf of the people, he had scored a major victory. And possibly what clinched B’s reputation as hero was popular interpretations, then and now, of what this act signified. "The people’s battle", as a popular calypso by Dr. (Erold) Kroft puts it, "was won." Such a perception was fuelled by media reminders that they were ‘partners" in the sugar industry and that "the sugar lands of St. Kitts shall forever remain public property."44 With ‘Papa’ at the helm, the sugar industry now appeared to be a ‘family’ enterprise.

Over the years, Bradshaw tried to rise above the constraints of the colonial environment, but there were various setbacks. Despite his astute performance as Finance Minister of the Federation from its 1958 inception, the West Indian Federation folded in 1962. Although the long-time advocate of sovereignty participated in the 1976-77 round of independence talks with the British Government, it was the PAM government that presided over independence celebrations in 1983. Taking control of the sugar lands and factory, then, was Bradshaw’s most dramatic accomplishment. He had succeeded in redressing the social and economic imbalance that had characterized the plantation system for three centuries. The victory was not accomplished single-handedly, of course. Joseph N. France and C. A. Paul Southwell made up a triumvirate who fought with Bradshaw to bring the plantocrats to their knees. But few would dispute that Bradshaw became the leading personality in the labour movement. To what can his ascendancy be attributed?

"Charisma Made Flesh"

Researchers have long agreed that a certain exceptional quality in a leader often reinforces the inclination toward his or her heroization. In trying to account for the ability of an individual to arouse deep attachment, Max Weber offered his theory on ‘charisma’ which rests on: "devotion to the specific and exceptional sanctity, heroism or exemplary character of an individual person."45 However, the Caribbean crowd is hardly mesmerized by some transcendental referent. The charismatic behaviour of the Caribbean hero is less an internal mystique and more of a theatrical performance. Thus a more applicable term — utilized by Sylvia Wynter in her validation of Alexander Bustamante’s mass appeal — is "charisma made flesh."46 And certainly one thing that set Bradshaw apart from the other labour leaders at that time was his charismatic self-fashioning.

Bradshaw’s portraits reveal a tall, dark-skinned figure whose imposing physical appearance and authoritative manner at times seemed at odds with his ‘papa’ image. According to Sealy, his "fighter’s face with the clipped officer’s moustache sometimes gave him a grim forbidding look."47 Bradshaw of the sophisticated tastes wore immaculately tailored suits, old fashioned high wing collars and on occasions sported a flower in his buttonhole. At his most urbane, he was dresssed in a pin-stripe suit and knee breeches. When the Queen visited St. Kitts in 1966, he outfitted himself in morning coat and wing collar. When he served as Deputy Speaker in the Leeward Islands Federal Legislature, he often donned court dress, including a full bottomed wig. But it was his colonel’s cap and sword (worn after commissioned as a colonel in 1966) that was displayed on his funeral casket in 1978.

Perhaps because of his lack of formal education, Bradshaw gave free rein to his esoteric interests. According to former governor, Sir Fred Phillips, he was "a veritable master" in the history of the British Monarchy and the indigenous Caribbean peoples, fine wines, the culinary art and antiques (particularly British regimental flags, cut glass and rare books). He also developed an affinity for matters of heraldry (including the honorific titles in the British award system) and old ceremonial military swords.48

Yet for all his cultivated dalliance, Bradshaw could just as readily rise above the constraints of the British gentlemanly tradition. The grassroots politician was most likely to wear his shirt sleeves for his daily rounds, and during elections sported a khaki outfit which he called his "battle dress." He reportedly substituted the Rolls Royce which he drove on occasions of state for a Landrover as a day to day vehicle. During the Anguilla crisis of the sixties, Bradshaw took to wearing military uniform—emerging, according to Sealy, as "a sort of swash-buckling-politician-turned-security-force-leader."49 To be sure, it all testifies to the pervasive influence of British culture, but the manner in which the bourgeois and military trappings were adapted was unique. There was certainly no precedent on how the emergent West Indian political leader was to dress, and Bradshaw unabashedly fabricated a hybrid colourful veneer that allowed him to play the enigmatic role of the ‘great little man.’

Bradshaw’s self-fashioning has fuelled speculation about underlying motivation and implications. It might simply demonstrate, as Sealy suggests, that he enjoyed dressing for the role he played. Perhaps, as Browne believes, a lack of formal preparation precluded a rejection of psychological domination. There is always the temptation to conclude that he, like many West Indian nationalists, was "in his cultural self, a schizoid person."50 But when we consider that he possibly saw himself not only as the agent but also the symbol of change, we can conclude that in the very least, he was deliberate and strategic about what he wore. Since greatness is often associated with the grandeur of a person’s environment, he might have appropriated for himself an image of heroism fashioned out of impressive cultural accessories. The colonial symbols, then, were in a sense co-opted.51

Indeed, Bradshaw’s Anglophilism was accompanied by a strong sense of his own identity as a black man. He often boasted of his Ashanti origins, and in a society in which the majority was of African descent, this was undoubtedly part of his appeal. In 1973 Bradshaw had the Prince of Wales Bastion at Brimstone Hill restored and officially declared open by none other than the current Prince Charles. Amid all the pomp and ceremony, Bradshaw reminded His Royal Highness that the fortress was the result of "a joint enterprise between white and black people, the former operating out of the self-interest of protective defence and preservation and the latter performing compulsory toil under the whip." And in his own effort at heroic (re)construction, he went on to propagate the names of some of the "faceless people" who built and defended it.52 No doubt, the extremely voluble Bradshaw was well aware of the power of his oratory to instill in his people a fierce pride in their history and heritage.

A typical Bradshaw speech roused his listeners by its first person references and reiteration of his empathy with their experience. Those who stopped to listen at his 1948 meeting following the first major union strike heard him speak feelingly of the day-to-day problems of eking out a living, and of the steps to be taken towards their economic emancipation: "This industrial struggle is an all-out struggle for us. It is either now or never for us as workers, in this island."53 On one of Bradshaw’s talks with London Secretary of State in 1949, he had made representations for the creation of employment opportunities for women in such industries as food processing and the handling of textiles. On his return, he reported to the waiting crowd: "I told Mr. Creech-Jones that there is no work for women in this country. I stressed to him that the women are the mothers of a nation, and unless you can get them contented and properly occupied, you have no nation at all."54 Although he sounded paternalistic, the females in the audience would no doubt have been moved by his willingness to articulate their most pressing needs.

Perhaps, Bradshaw’s most remarkable gift was in presenting himself, and being accepted, as the father figure of a large family. A modern reflection on his family values reveal that he believed that a child nurtured by both parents would "grow up to be a productive man or woman."55 At one of the annual conferences of the Labour Union, (like a disgruntled grandfather) he expressed concern that: "The quality of life is tending to erode almost in proportion to the degree by which parental control over children is either relaxed or abandoned."56 He even perceived colonial domination as a threat to the family. In a speech made on the inauguration of the 1948 strike, he warned: "The time has come, when …there can be no more compromise with the welfare of our children, and with our economic situation in this island.57 Since Bradshaw was not given to idle talk, he took on the role of ‘provider’ by visiting households, organizing co-op shops and savings plans and, in keeping with his commitment to education, sending people abroad to study. His concern with issues important to Kittitian family life, coupled with his livelihood struggle on their behalf, helped reinforce the ‘Papa’ Bradshaw image.

Bradshaw was also likely to encourage the subalterns to be agents of their own destiny. A speech made during the 1948 strike reminded: ‘It is our duty to lay the foundations and to see that those foundations are well laid, on which our children can build.58 During the difficult year following the Anguilla secession, Bradshaw declared: "Together we passed through the testing fires from which we have emerged fitter than ever to elect, to govern and to live our lives in peace.59 Not surprisingly his charismatic open-air speeches were copied by adept short-hand writers and forwarded to the Colonial Office for scrutiny. Obviously, the British officials were not prepared to underestimate the psychological appeal of his speeches. It is no exaggeration to say, he could (during the forties and fifties) make his followers go anywhere and do anything he wanted. His ability to mobilize the crowd to protest European appointments to the islands — as evidenced in the ‘Greening must Go’ campaign unleashed against the St. Kitts administrator in 1947 — demonstrated that.

While Bradshaw attracted the support of many, he inspired intense hatred in others. As the Croft calypso says, "‘Papa Bradshaw’did not give a damm which ‘powers’ he did displease." Colonial Office officials with whom he periodically interacted complained repeatedly of his rudeness and arrogance. Governor Kenneth W. Blackburne who was booed out of the island in 1950 thought he "suffered from overweening conceit, bordering on megalomania."60 Perhaps he was conditioned by his background to maintain a posture of combativeness against the British. But even on the home front, Bradshaw entertained no opposition to his government. This was particularly apparent in the way he abruptly dismissed his political opponents and was even occasionally at odds with his peers. According to Sir Fred Phillips, he "tended to see the opposition as an element of subversion and a group with motives that could only be sinister in-so-far as the business of governing the country was concerned.61 His former Public Relations Officer admits: "Premier Bradshaw was at times a difficult man to deal with. He stuck to his ‘guns’ and at times would be quite brusque."62 But he also commanded grudging respect in some quarters. Edgar Parry in the Colonial Office admitted: "Mr. Bradshaw is at least preferable to other labour leaders … in that he is straightforward and frank."63

It was not just the noble qualities that so captured the collective cultural imagination, but also the moments when he took on the persona of the ‘tragic hero’. One such occasion is the 1967 ‘rebellion’ against his authority by Anguillans who ironically accused ‘Papa’ of treating them like poor relations. He even managed to alienate the people of St. Kitts-Nevis following the 1970 sinking of the overloaded inter-island ferry Christena and the death of over 200. According to Whitman Browne, his customary resort to "shared church experience" in an attempt to comfort them was rejected because "the people were well aware that it was government neglect that had led to the disaster."64 Even more mystifying was Bradshaw’s unwavering federalist stance in the face of Nevisian secessionist sentiments. Still there was some poignancy in the relentless pursuit of seemingly hopeless causes. The various flashpoints have been committed to the collective memory and subsequently propagated.

Constructing the Legend

By the 1970s, it was apparent that Bradshaw had lost some of his earlier influence. In discussing the formidable challenge brought on by a new breed of Labour politicians as well as the Peoples Action Movement and Nevis politicians, Whitman Browne reflects: "those tried, tested and seasoned heroes of Labour, such as Bradshaw and Southwell, relied on their stories of sacrifice, and their political know-how to keep themselves at the helm."65 Ironically, Bradshaw’s abrupt death in 1978 was partly responsible for the rehabilitation of his heroic image. In fact, upon acquiring news of his passing, his contemporaries began commemorating a legend. Telegrammed condolences from regional political leaders saluted "a great West Indian leader", "a great hero", and "a great statesman."66 He was accorded the tribute of a state funeral in which Kittitians struggled to come to terms with the collective loss of a hero. That some have not succeeded is evidenced by reports of elderly individuals who still insist on voting for ‘Papa’ during elections.

Many parents took their unsuspecting children to catch a last glimpse of the popular hero as he lay in state. Years later some would remember that day with pathos. A poem by a second generation Kittitian, simply entitled Papa Bradshaw, captured the deep sense of loss that permeated that historic day:

And in a section which illustrates the readiness to commit Bradshaw to mythological status, the poetess reminisces:
Says the more analytical Browne, "Bradshaw’s death was a true signal that an era had ended in St. Kitts".68 The apotheosis of Bradshaw is not confined to this historic moment. Bradshaw’s heroic, almost legendary national stature has steadily enlarged since his death.

The extent to which Bradshaw has been embraced by the succeeding generation can be gleaned from recent interviews of Kittitian college students. They testify to having grown up in households where his contributions were praised and most share their parents’ conviction that he was a hero. One such assessment reiterates the ‘Papa’ Bradshaw mystique: "To me he deserves to be called a hero. His main concern/goal was the upliftment of those on the lowest rung of the social ladder. Like many heroes he faced obstacles but fought for the interests of the masses." The resilience of popular memory can also be glimpsed in a persistent rumour that Bradshaw threatened to turn the rebel island (Anguilla) into a desert. Although the details remain sketchy, there have been many recountings of how after one of his anti-British appointments campaign, he defied the British Government by flinging back his shirt and inviting the war ships to come in.

A few university scholars have canvassed for Bradshaw’s recognition as hero and have contributed to perceptions of Bradshaw’s ‘greatness’as extending beyond St. Kitts to the Caribbean at large. In a 1992 preface, S. B. Jones-Hendrickson explains: "I wanted to demonstrate that Robert Llewellyn Bradshaw, the official and unofficial first hero of St. Kitts, deserved a place in the annals of the country, and indeed in the pages of Caribbean and world history."69 Jones-Hendrickson went on to suggest how Bradshaw’s philosophical outlook could inspire progress in the modern Caribbean. Whitman Browne’s biography eulogizes Bradshaw as a "crusader for dignity and justice in the Caribbean." He places Bradshaw in the company of world messianic heroes: "Like Alfred the Great, or Joan of Arc, Bradshaw felt chosen for a task of deliverance." On the origin of the ennobling "Papa" Bradshaw label Browne reveals: "Initially, the name was associated with [his] stand for honesty. Later, it was given a lot of explanations such as, Bradshaw, like a father, provided."70

While the so-called labour ‘stalwart’ has been enthroned in the popular consciousness as the dynamic ‘Papa’ Bradshaw, government officials have turned him into a more expansive cultural emblem. At the unveiling ceremony of the "Robert Llewellyn Bradshaw (Social Security) Building" in 1995, he was hailed as "more than just a man, …a hero, a visionary, the father of our nation."71 Later that same day the reconstructed Golden Rock Airport was renamed the "Robert Llewellyn Bradshaw International Airport." National Heroes Day 1997 saw the issuance of a set of stamps commemorating the life and work of the Federations’s three heroes — France, Southwell and Bradshaw. A bust of the late premier was unveiled at the arrivals hall of the airport during the inaugural National Heroes Day ceremony in 1998. His memory continues to be kept alive by airing of his speeches and the dissemination of educational brochures depicting his life and work.

In an article in the Labour Spokesman (the government’s primary medium for educating about Bradshaw) proclaiming Robert Bradshaw Day in 1990, the author maintained: "His words and policies appear more prophetic today as events unfold themselves in the life of the country".72 If Labour Government predictions are true, the historic Bradshaw—who "spearhead[ed] the fight against colonialism, against political disenfranchisement and against poverty"—still has relevance for today.73 That the man and his work lived on is suggested in the rationale provided for national heroization in 1997:

Their [i.e. Bradshaw, France and Southwell] roles in the shaping of our history and development are becoming more distinct, as time goes by. As we search more diligently within our ranks to find role models and meaningful and inspirational national symbols, they are looming up larger than life in our consciousness.74
A belief in Bradshaw’s continuing presence is accompanied by a rationalization of many of his beliefs and policies. Even nationalization of the sugar lands—arguably the most anachronistic of his economic policies—is modernized when explained as "the prerequisite for sustainable development in the interest of all the people of the land."75 But the heroic construction project on St. Kitts has gone beyond mere reifying and inspiring.

The political gains that can be derived from affiliation with a popular legend has not been lost on the new generation of labour politicians. References to old labour and Bradshaw’s role in it provide a rallying point for a new breed of politicians anxious to maintain the close connection with a more independent middle class and a working class for whom sugar cane cultivation has ironically lost its attraction. If, as constantly claimed, Bradshaw was the "architect of modern St. Kitts", new policies can be more readily explained as the carrying on of the Bradshaw mantle. For a people inclined to believe in divine providence, even birthplace and name associations provide legitimacy. Thus, a labour conference exposition can explain tongue in cheek:

By some quirk of faith or is it divine design Premier Robert Llewellyn Bradshaw was followed after a brief intervention ….by Premier Lee Llewellyn Moore and now Prime Minister Dr. Denzil Llewellyn Douglas. This last named dynamic young leader also hails from St. Pauls Village. In the short space of time he has followed in the footsteps of the revered ‘Papa.’ Dr. Douglas has made a viable impact at home, regionally and abroad. It must be that the spirit of Bradshaw lives on.76

Government in the unconventional role of historians can play a more active role in shaping the collective memory. But such public relations techniques might yet betray the official granting of National Hero awards as a principal tool of social control based on the power to grant and manipulate prestige.77

Besides, the political liaison might not be as productive as imagined. The Nevisian secession issue continues to loom on the horizon. And whether or not Bradshaw had promised Nevisians "bones in their rice, and pepper in their soup", the constant repetition of this allegation contributes to its popularity.78 In an interesting retreat from the heroization project, Bradshaw’s daughter made demands in 1998 for her father’s name to be taken off the social security building and the airport. She alleged that the government was "just using him for political mileage."79 But perhaps the most revealing departure from state manipulated cultural emblems is a non-commissioned painted wall mural (in the Irishtown area of Basseterre) which places a formally attired Bradshaw among world-renowned black heroes Marcus Garvey and Malcolm X. Thus even though he has become a static nationalist symbol, he remains very much the malleable property of the people.

Click on image to see a larger version.

As Stephen Lee’s biography of the now legendary Russian ruler, Peter the Great, reminds: "The true test of greatness is time."81 Thus while Bradshaw’s impact on the Kittitian imagination remains unbroken for now, the possibility of future de-heroization cannot be discounted. If the sparse attention by the opposition government to the pioneering role of the so-called "Father of Independence" is any indication, a change in government might not enhance Bradshaw’s reputation. The more politically partisan the choices of heroes, the more contrived the project is likely to appear. And the poignant criticism levelled at the official granting of National Hero awards as a "system of social control based upon the power to grant and manipulate prestige" might yet undermine the regional heroization project.81 However, the heroic construction of St. Kitts ‘Papa’ Bradshaw was accomplished using a formidable complement of heroic behaviour, popular memories, scholarly motifs and government icons. Thus it might be difficult, if not impossible to, completely erase or replace the now legendary figure.


Footnotes

1 In St. Kitts, a National Honours Act provides for the official recognition of outstanding individuals. The order of National Hero is the highest award.

2 In Writing West Indian Histories (London, 1999), Barry Higman suggests that emotions such as shame and pride, guilt and forgiveness are fundamental to the new Caribbean preoccupation with heroes. See pp. 202-241.

3 Alan Nolan, Lee Considered: General Robert E. Lee and Civil War History (North Carolina, 1991), p. 5.

4 Franz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (New York, 1968), p. 207.

5 Michael Craton, Searching for the Invisible Man (1978), p. 384.

6 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London, 1986) and Eric Hobsbawn, The Invention of Tradition (1983) have provided conceptual frameworks focusing on the (re)construction of national and cultural identities.

7 M. Manley, "Nanny, Sam Sharpe Helped Set Road to Freedom", Daily Gleaner, November 19, 1975, p. 1.

8 E. K. Brathwaite, Wars of Respect: Nanny, Sam Sharpe and the Struggle for People’s Liberation (Jamaica, 1977); Sylvia Wynter, Jamaica’s National Heroes (Jamaica, 1971), p. 1.

9 Carleen Payne, "When the Ordinary Becomes Great: ‘Papa’ Bradshaw and the Heroic in St. Kitts’ Recent Past", U.W.I. (Mona) Staff/Postgraduate Seminar, May 1999.

10 See Thomas Carlyle, On Heroes, Hero Worship and the Heroic in History (London, 1888).

11 Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, p. 69.

12 See Archie Singham, The Hero and the Crowd in a Colonial Polity (New Haven, 1968), p. 315.

13 For example, see Rupert Lewis, Marcus Garvey: Anti-Colonial Champion (New Jersey, 1998).

14 Peter Burke explores this type of heroic self-fashioning in The Fabrication of Louis XIV (London, 1992).

15 In his Wars of Respect, Kamau Brathwaite advanced the criteria that the national hero should not be just a political icon but also a "folk figure" springing from the "collective memory of the people". See pp. 3-4.

16 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities. See introductory chapter.

17 Whitman Browne’s From Commoner to King: Robert L. BradshawCrusader for Dignity and Justice in the Caribbean (New York, 1992) is the only full-length published biography on Bradshaw.

18 James Sutton, A Testimony of Triumph (Canada, 1996), pp. 33 & 94.

19 Richard Frucht, "From Slavery to Unfreedom in the Plantation Society of St. Kitts, W. I." in Comparative Perspectives in New World Plantation Society, Vera Rubin & Arthur Tuden, Eds., (New York, 1977), p. 384.

20 Washington Archibald, Reflections (St. Kitts, 1993), p. 113.

21 Ruby Parker, Society and the Judas Kissers (St. Kitts, 1997), p. 103.

22 Whitman Browne, From Commoner to King, p. 34.

23 Woodville Marshall in Theodore Sealy’s Caribbean Leaders (Jamaica, 1991), p. ii.

24 Bradshaw’s mother was a domestic servant and some his relations reportedly worked in the canefields. Bradshaw was an ex-factory worker. See Sealy’s Caribbean Leaders, p. 52.

25 The Labour Movement on St. Kitts can be dated from the 1834 "revolt of the Labouring classes" against the terms of the Emancipation Act. The century following was wracked with ‘spontaneous’ strikes and the formation of incipient workers’ organizations. See Probyn Innis’ Historic Basseterre (Antigua, 1985), p. 31.

26 Lewis, Growth of the Modern West Indies, (New York, 1968), p. 119.

27 Victoria Borg O’Flaherty’s Pioneers of the St. Kitts-Nevis Labour Movement (1999) includes Joseph Nathan, Thomas Manchester and Edgar Challenger among this cohort.

28 Glen Richards, Masters and Servants: The Growth of the Labour Movement in St. Christopher–Nevis, 1896 to 1956 (Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, 1989).

29 See Land Tenure and Development in the Eastern Caribbean, Frank Alleyne, Ed., (Barbados, 1994), pp. 29-31; Bonham Richardson, Caribbean Migrants: Environment and Human Survival on St. Kitts-Nevis (Knoxville, 1983); Glen Richards, "Friendly Societies and Labour Organisation in the Leeward Islands, 1912-19" in Before and After 1865, B. Moore & S. Wilmot Eds., (Kingston, 1998), pp. 136-149.

30 Glen Richards, "The Pursuit of ‘Higher Wages’ and ‘Perfect Personal Freedom’ " in From Chattel Slaves to Wage Slaves: the Dynamics of Labour Bargaining in the Americas, Mary Turner, Ed. (London, 1995), p. 296.

31 Glen Richards, Masters and Servants: The Growth of the Labour Movement in St. Christopher-Nevis, 1896 to 1956. Unpublished Doctoral thesis, 1989.

32 Elise Marthol credits Sebastian with recognizing Bradshaw’s leadership potential but admits there was "quite a generation gap" between them. See Meet My Father: Joseph Matthew Sebastian (St. Kitts, 1993), p. 36.

33 Cited in Sealy’s Caribbean Leaders, p. 56.

34 Washington Archibald, Reflections, pp. 11 & 17.

35 Sealy, Caribbean Leaders, p. 52.

36 Glen Richards, "The Pursuit of ‘Higher Wages’ and ‘Perfect Personal Freedom’ " in From Chattel Slaves to Wage Slaves: The Dynamics of Labour Bargaining in the Americas, Mary Turner, Ed. (London, 1995), pp. 275-301.

37 Archibald, Reflections, 43.

38 Richards, Masters and Servants, p. 397.

39 CO152/529, Address delivered by the Hon. R. Bradshaw at Warner Park, on Thursday 22nd January, 1948, 10.

40 CO152/5299, Untitled letter signed by Mary Gore Graham, 1-2.

41 For details see Background to the Acquisition by Negotiation of the assets of the St. Kitts (Basseterre) Sugar Factory, Ltd., (St. Kitts, 1976).

42 Archibald, Reflections, p. 89.

43 Archibald, "Mission Incomplete", St. Kitts-Nevis Observer, May 30-June 5, 1998, p. 22.

44 "Premier’s Broadcasts", St. Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla Newsletter, December 1975.

45 Max Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (New York, 1964), p. 328.

46 Wynter, Jamaica’s National Heroes, p. 32.

47 Sealy, Caribbean Leaders, p. 51.

48 Sir Fred Phillips, Caribbean Life and Culture: A Citizen Reflects (Jamaica, 1991); "A Tribute to the Late Robert Bradshaw, Premier of St. Kitts", pp. 30-33.

49 Sealy, Caribbean Leaders, p. 51.

50 Lewis, Growth of the Modern West Indies, p. 393; Browne, From Commoner to King, p. 120; Sealy, Caribbean Leaders, p. 62.

51 It has even been suggested that his fascination with royalty stemmed from a latent desire to replace British imperialism with a model of black kingship of which Haiti’s Christophe (a native of St. Kitts) was the most visible example. See V. S. Naipaul’s "St. Kitts: Papa and the Power Set" in The Overcrowded Barracoon and Other Articles (New York, 1973).

52 Address by Premier Bradshaw at the Opening of the Restored Prince of Wales Bastion in the Fortress of Brimstone Hill, St. Kitts, June, 1973, St. Kitts-Nevis–Anguilla Newsletter, Vol. III, p. 16.

53 CO/152/529, An Address Delivered by the Hon. R. Bradshaw at Warner Park, January 22, 1948.

54 CO152/526 Address Delivered by the Hon. Robert Bradshaw on his Return from England, May, 1949.

55 "The Legacy of the Hon. Robert Bradshaw…Destroyed?", Labour Spokesman, November 18, 1995, p. 3.

56 Address at the Thirty-Third Annual Conference of the St. Kitts-Nevis Trades & Labour Union, October 1972, St. Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla Newsletter, Vol. II), p. 1.

57 CO152/529, Forwarded Address by the Hon.R. Bradshaw, January 18, 1948.

58 Ibid.

59 "The Trial and Triumph of the People", Labour Spokesman, February 27, 1968.

60 CO537/6120, Personal letter of Governor K. W. Blackburne to H. Beckett, November, 1950.

61 Phillips, "A Tribute to the Late Robert Bradshaw", p. 32.

62 Henry Stogumber Browne, Law, Power and Government in St. Kitts, Nevis and Anguilla (St. Kitts, 1980), p. 13.

63 CO152/529, Minutes of a Meeting on the situation in St. Kitts and Antigua, March 19, 1948.

64 Whitman Browne, The Christena Disaster in Retrospect (USVI, 1985), pp. 46-7.

65 Browne, The Christena Disaster, p. 52.

66 "Robert Llewellyn Bradshaw, 1916-1978" (Memorial Booklet and Order of Burial Service).

67 Cin D Quashie, "Papa Bradshaw". Unpublished poem, 1993.

68 Browne, From Commoner to King, 3.

69 S.B. Jones-Hendrickson, "Sixty Years Later and One who Played a Part" (Preface to 1992 Bradshaw Memorial Service Programme in New York), p. 1. See his "Strategies for Progress in the post-Independence Caribbean: A Bradshawian Synthesis" in Caribbean Visions: Ten Presidential Addresses of Ten Presidents of the Caribbean Studies Association (USVI, 1990).

70 Browne, From Commoner to King, pp. 117- 127.

71 "Social Security Headquarters Named after Nation’s First Premier", Labour Spokesman, December 30, 1995, p. 5.

72 "Tomorrow is Robert Bradshaw Day", The Labour Spokesman, Saturday, September 15, 1990.

73 "Bradshaw, Southwell, France: A Formidable Trio", Labour Spoksman, May 23, 1998, p. 3.

74 "A Nation Salutes its First Three National Heroes", The Labour Spokesman, September 20, 1997, p. 2.

75Ibid, pp. 2, 2b.

76 Annual National Labour Conference Booklet, May 17, 1998, p. 5.

77This is William J. Goode's thesis, The Celebration of Heroes: Prestige as a Control System, 1978.

78 For example, a 1996 commentary encouraging Nevisian secession said: "We have withstood the bones in our rice and pepper in our soup." See Livingston Herbert, "Bigger than Politics", St. Kitts-Nevis Observer, July 21-21, 1996, p. 16.

79 "Bradshaw’s Daughter Fed up with Labour Government", St. Kitts-Nevis Observer, February 28-March 6, 1998, p. 6.

80 Stephen J. Lee, Peter the Great (London, 1993), p. 75.

81 Higman, Writing West Indian Histories, p. 209.


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