Friday, February 18, 2011

In every way and in every segment of life the Bahamian's value system has certainly changed

The Bahamas' changing value system
tribune242 editorial


WE HAVE had several calls about our editorial of February 11, which for the first time revealed the name of an anonymous letter writer, whose identity excited political circles in 1962, but for 49 years remained a mystery. Today, few people would be interested in our mystery man, but in the political turmoil of the sixties, a British editor was threatened with prison for refusing to reveal his identity.

However, with the death of Paul Bower on January 24, memories of those few days in the Magistrate's Court in October, 1963 came flooding back. For several years speculation continued about the letter writer. Today, when it no longer matters, and few would care, we realised that we were now the last living person who knows the letter's author. For the sake of history we revealed it in this column on February 11.

The calls that we have received as a result of that column, were not about the mystery writer, now unmasked, but about the fate of Paul Bower when he refused to give the court the writer's name. No, he did not go to prison as threatened by Magistrate John Bailey, who when off the bench was one of his best friends.

The case ended suddenly when the Guardian owners decided to pay the plaintiffs' damages, and rescue their man from the edge of the cliff. Magistrate Bailey had refused the Guardian leave to appeal his decision of name or prison.

Mr Bower, who was Guardian editor from 1958 to August 1962 (two months before the case came to court in October), asked the magistrate: "What would happen should I refuse (to reveal the writer's name)?"

"You would be in contempt," the Irish magistrate replied.

"What would be the consequences?" Mr Bower pressed. "A fine or a prison sentence," the magistrate shot back.

"Ten days in Her Majesty's prison!" LB Johnson, one of the six PLP plaintiffs, demanded loudly. This exchange was followed by a luncheon adjournment. By the afternoon the case was over, Mr Bower had missed the arrow, the plaintiffs had their damages, and letter writer Bert Cambridge was still a mystery man.

Guardian lawyer James Liddell had argued that not only was the plaintiffs' complaints vexatious, but that what was being complained of before the court was the letter and its content, not the identity of the writer. But the plaintiffs were not buying that argument, nor was the magistrate. In a few weeks time there would be a general election, which the PLP were confident of winning - in fact they lost. Racism was a heavy card being played at the time, and the six PLP plaintiffs -- all lawyers - wanted to know which white man would dare question their integrity in an anonymous letter. What they did not know was that the writer was, like themselves, a black man, a former politician, whose character Mr Bower had described in glowing terms in court. Several of the plaintiffs were Bert Cambridge's friends. In fact he had given music lessons to one of them. Bert Cambridge's Orchestra was the hottest band in town in the twenties and thirties, and music was his career.

But what we find most interesting is the change over the years in public values. In those days it was seldom that one sued a newspaper for defamation, and anything over £100 in damages was certainly unheard of. And so for "An Open Letter to Mr Paul Adderley," published in The Guardian on August 21, 1962 the six lawyers -- Paul Adderley, Loftus Roker, Lynden Pindling, AD Hanna, LB Johnson and Orville Turnquest -- each asked for £100 for the damage perceived to have been done to their reputations, plus costs, which in those days would have been minimal.

However, thanks to the influence over the years of America's legal system where it almost pays to do oneself an injury in a public place and walk away with millions awarded by the courts, Bahamians have adjusted their opinion of their own worth.

In 1962, Orville Turnquest who became the Bahamas' Governor General, was not bloated up with his own importance. He obviously felt well compensated with £100 for the slight he had felt was committed against him. If he had known that it was his old piano teacher, he probably would have slapped him on the back, had a good laugh and they would have gone off to make music together.

However, today we see some of these complaints, many of them vexatious, and the value -- starting in the thousands --that persons put on their own worth and we wonder where they are coming from.

In every way and in every segment of life the Bahamian's value system has certainly changed.

February 18, 2011

tribune242 editorial