The ‘colonial scaffold’

PJ Patterson, has rejected in forthright terms any “attempt to portray the notion that the WICB has accepted and is proceeding in accordance” with the report that bears his name and which was submitted almost two years ago, on improving the governance of West Indian cricket (SN, August 22, 2009, ‘Wanted: A new governance for West Indies Cricket Board’). Characteristically diplomatic, he has stated that to do so would be “erroneous.” In highlighting the current board’s outdated governance structure and reiterating the case for reform, the former Jamaican Prime Minister quotes at length from a memorandum submitted by Professor Hilary Beckles, one of the region’s foremost analysts of cricket in West Indian history and culture. Among the points made by Professor Beckles, is the following justification: “The urgency of this matter is to be found in the realization that West Indian people have made their greatest single cultural investment in cricket. They have also attached to cricket their finest hopes and aspirations in the struggle to distance themselves from an ancient, debilitating colonial scaffold.”

It is the colonial connotation that we wish to explore further.
As is well known, the original West Indies Cricket Board of Control (our emphasis) was established in 1927, when the various territories of the British West Indies came under the umbrella of colonial rule. But rather than reinforce colonialism, cricket provided an outlet for West Indians to prove that they could compete as equals and eventually surpass their colonial masters on the field of play. And the impact of the world-beating teams led by Clive Lloyd and Vivian Richards on the post-Independence psyche of West Indians cannot be overstated.

One of the underlying and recurring criticisms of the present day WICB is that it is too rooted in the distant past, when it was dominated by the largely white, landowning and business class, and that it is still a ‘colonial’ institution, representative of a paternalistic, top-down approach to governance. Accordingly, the WICB has succeeded in remaining deaf to the clamour of players and public alike for a greater say in how things are done and for better husbandry of a precious regional resource. But just because the WICB’s approach to sports administration and governance is deemed to be archaic, authoritarian, dysfunctional and incompetent does not necessarily mean that it is “colonial.” For the label may be serving to obscure some less than convenient truths about governance in the Caribbean in general.

In truth, while the WICB has also been pretty successful in appearing to be nothing more than an ‘old boys’ club’ and maintaining a highhanded approach to cricket governance, it is, strictly speaking, not anti-democratic in structure. The directors of the WICB are nominated by the national boards of the member countries. The national boards are in turn elected by their constituent stakeholders, the cricket clubs, whose representatives are themselves determined by their membership. This reflects, at least on paper, a bottom-up approach to governance.

However, somewhere along the line, something gets thrown out of kilter and the WICB does not function as a truly democratic and representative institution. Whether the WICB’s collective incompetence is a root cause or a result of this is a moot point. The fact remains that there is a fundamental disconnect between the democratic underpinnings of West Indies cricket governance and the actual manner in which West Indies cricket is governed.

This is not necessarily “colonial.” It may well be argued that it is innately West Indian and simply represents the way that successive governments have been democratically elected across the region, only to ignore the basic tenets of democratic governance – consultation and consensus, transparency and accountability – as they cynically take advantage of Westminster or quasi-Westminster systems to rule largely as they please. The origins of this malady may lie in our colonial past, but the willingness to manipulate systems of governance to advance narrow, partisan interests is a contemporary, Caribbean problem.

The suggestion has also arisen that Caricom should intervene to boot out those who have brought ridicule and disaster upon West Indies cricket and take control of the regional game. But is this not itself a “colonial” approach, as in the much criticized (at least in these parts) recent suspension of the constitution in the Turks and Caicos Islands and the imposition of direct rule by the British government?

Furthermore, is there any evidence that Caricom governments have the will or wherewithal to pour money into the development of West Indies cricket, when it is better left in the hands of an independent, non-governmental authority, representative of its key stakeholders, not least of whom would be the West Indian people? Indeed, the role of governments should be one of partnership rather than direct intervention and control. The recommendations of the Patterson Report on the restructuring of the WICB, to make it more representative, efficient and accountable, are therefore most apposite.

It will of course be ironic to some that Mr Patterson is getting hot under the collar that these recommendations have not been acted upon, when Caricom, during and since his term as a serving head of government, has been guilty of shelving critical recommendations on the improved governance of the community and the deepening of regional integration. Nevertheless, Mr Patterson’s most recent intervention is very welcome and we urge closer consideration of and action on the key recommendations of the Patterson Report.

In all this, however, we can’t help but wonder whether we have merely replaced the colonial model of governance and colonial elites with our own immature institutions and home-grown governors – the “doctor politicians,” “the validating elite,” “the parasitic oligarchy,” as the late Lloyd Best variously called them – who in their inherent resistance to real reform, continue to fail us. The scaffold may no longer be colonial, but perhaps we are still hanging from it.