Dear Editor,
At the recent annual conference of the Caribbean Studies Association held in Haiti, acclaimed scholar-activist, Angela Davis, gave a memorable address in which she linked race, class, nation, history, oppression and survival. When she got to the point of her address that discussed underdevelopment, she asked the audience who she was thinking about and hundreds of voices responded in unison—“Walter Rodney,” followed by a generous round of applause.
It is commonplace to hear Rodney’s work quoted by scholars who speak about him in elevated ways; after all he belonged to the world—one of Guyana’s most precious gifts to world civilization. But when I heard that audience speak his name that evening, I felt a rush of pride as a Guyanese, as a comrade and a descendant of Rodney and the Caribbean, Black, African and Guyanese radical tradition which he contributed immensely to. But I also felt a gush of pain, largely because Guyanese of the post-1980 generation do not get to experience moments like those when their country is lifted to the mountaintop by the mere mention of his name. There were several Guyanese scholars at the conference to witness that moment, but shamefully, there was only one scholar from the University of Guyana—lecturer and historian, Estherene Adams—who presented a well-received paper on another outstanding Guyanese, Eusi Kwayana.
As I think about Walter Rodney who we assassinated 36 years ago on a Friday night, I think about Guyana and its slow but steady march towards the edge. I think about some of the backwardness I read on Facebook and the newspaper blogs and I wonder if we can pull ourselves back. In the end our words betray our thoughts and our thoughts are shaped by what we see and feel. Despite our glorious history of overcoming, the Guyana of today assassinates that history at every twist and turn. The brutal murders and our seeming numbness to them; the national hypocrisy when it comes to our ethno-racial condition; the persistent betrayal by our political leaders replete with economic and psychological brutalization of poor people—the doom varies but it never goes away.
But in the end, we must press on, for we have no choice but to confront our demons. Walter Rodney had taught us how to use the combined weapon of resistance, history and self-activity to overcome our ethnic insecurities. He also taught us the value of asking questions of power even when the face of that power looks like ours. It was he, the scholar-activist, who argued that the educated sons and daughters of the poor must serve the poor in word and deed and in this regard he led by example. Walter Rodney, in the 1970s gave Guyana hope again as we were plunging into the deep and dangerous waters of self-destruction. He represented and still represents light in the midst of darkness.
Rodney had asked that should he be cut down, his body should be used as a barricade for the revolution. The revolution which he started and for which he was murdered by the hand of the State, is still incomplete. That State still stalks the land— always looking for the next victim. The poor are still impoverished and powerless. Ethnic domination and spite still reside in our political bosoms.
If we must keep alive the freedom spirit of Emancipation and Independence, Walter Rodney must live again in Guyana as he lives in the global space. As CLR James, another Caribbean intellectual giant, would say—there is always work to be done. Let us on this June 13, whatever our politics, say thanks to Walter Rodney for making us whole while he worked this space and for the legacy of hope he has left us. And if we must dare to ask questions of our powers and push them to see our collective liberation as paramount, we must reach for Rodney’s spirit and praxis.
Yours faithfully,
David Hinds
