Are we really independent?
Published:Thursday | February 2, 2012 | 12:00 AM
THE EDITOR, Sir
AFTER 50 years, we have not really released our vestiges of the Crown in England. Granted, Mrs Simpson Miller has made the gesture towards a break with the Crown, but I cannot help but feel it is just political talk, pandering to the public. We still have a representative of the Queen as an influential part of the state, the governor general. We still have British ceremonials in Parliament, we still have appeals to the British courts. We are a part of their Commonwealth, we still have the remnants of their laws. Are we really independent of England?
After our recent return to the International Monetary Fund and our leaders begging on a world tour, are we financially independent? Our money is printed in mints in England and is backed by debt and United States dollars, which is losing its footing as world currency. How can one really say we are independent? What are we celebrating this 50th anniversary?
How are we independent when we are slaves to the foreign media, especially the 'mighty' Uncle Sam? We are dependent on imports from the USA; we depend on their food, their clothes, even their entertainment.
How are we independent when we subscribe to the neoliberalist policies of globalisation that insist on lessening the powers and sovereignty of the state, and the continuous breakdown of international barriers? How are we independent when foreigners own our electrical supplies, our airports, our mining plants? What are we independent of?
Bound by handcuffs
Are we not bound by so many handcuffs of ever-growing poverty, illiteracy, unemployment, crime, men-women inequality, limited technology and, worst of all, which result in other bounding forces too - corruption?
In the word of Kahlil Gibran ... "Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks a wine that flows not from its own wine press. Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful. Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block. Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking. Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting, and farewells him with hooting, only to welcome another with trumpeting again. Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation."
Yannick Pessoa