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<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Quote:</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><span style="color: #660000">In the early 1990s when I started writing newspaper columns I used to spend much more time in the company of young people in various volatile inner-city settings than I do now - listening to them and echoing the pain of their complaints.
Most of my writings then had a distinct bias towards the position of these poor, hopeless and "powerless" people, especially when there were clashes between their communities (read gunmen) and the police. With more than a sprinkling of naivety, I charged headlong into "defending poor people's rights" by accepting that the police were brutal to them as a first resort. Only in very few instances did I bother to scratch the veneer in order to determine if the police claims of "shootout" were authentic.
At those times the police versions were unimaginative and crude, and indicative that in any confrontation between ghetto and police, the forces of "law and order" had the full backing of the government, even if entire communities were seen as fair game.
At that stage, I heard the rumblings - an unwritten consensus among the discarded poor and powerless - that "a big one was inevitable". In conversation with a powerful politician, now in the Cabinet, I asked him, "What is it that will solve Jamaica's many problems or lead us out of our present socio-economic predicament?"
Without hesitation he answered, "Armed, violent revolution." As one who believed that a radical, societal upending was not just necessary but inevitable, I had no trouble agreeing with him. When April 1999 rolled upon us and a four-day riot over gas-price increases saw poor communities (aided by the Opposition JLP), involved in blocking roads, burning debris and a few commercial establishments, looting and extorting, I recognised it for what it was. Ghetto people's fete. Carry a bottle or a crate or a looted box of chicken. The April 1999 riots provided relief for the criminal-minded. It was not "IT".
Between 1999 and now, something has crept upon us and maybe only a few have seen it for what it is. The "riot" is really upon us, but in a more deadly and subtly toxic form. It doesn't signal to us that we cannot make it to work today because the roads are piled high with burning tyres and discarded lumber. It doesn't occupy our minds as a protest event that will blow over after the energy wanes. We have no immediate concerns that we will not be able to make it to the hospital to visit a relative who is ill because the "riot" has crippled public transportation.
The criminal gun has been in "riot" mode every day since the April 1999 riots. In 2005, the fateful year Jamaica achieved the dishonour of being classified as the murder capital of the world, our minister of national security said, "With many of the 'Kingfish' of crime out of the way, a second tier of criminals have simply sought to compensate for the loss of income from drugs by expanding their activities in extortion and robbery."
In citing a study, the minister said, "Seventy-five per cent of perpetrators as well as victims of violent crime are from the 123,000 unemployed 15-29 year-olds."
In 1996 when the perennially troubled JLP enclave Rema began its internecine warfare with Denham Town and Tivoli, I engaged about 20 young men from Rema in conversation.
After telling me of the "nuff gun" they said they had in Rema, the focus shifted to what they saw as the wider society and successive administrations abandoning them. The idea of "revolution" was introduced. Said one, "Uptown people a idiot. If a revolution start, the gardener, the helper, the plumber weh a work fi uptown people - weh yuh believe dem come from? Place like Rema an Jungle. We wouldn't even haffi fire a shot."
It is my firm conviction that the state, out of its impotence, ceded power to the streets in September 1998 when then Matthews Lane don Zeeks, after being held by the police, was given a megaphone by the authorities at the Central Police Station to address the crowd which had gathered in an effort to "cool the temperature". Since that time and after the 1999 riots, it has been the criminal gun which has been calling the shots (pun intended) in this country.
Peter Phillips as security minister then was discombobulated. The present minister, Col Trevor MacMillan, has great ideas, I am told. If he has one single idea for the short-term cessation of the runaway murder rate, he hasn't told us, and in any event, it doesn't seem to be working.
The armed "revolution" and the "rioting" is on, but we are unable to detect it because it is spread out over 365 days for the year. The criminal gun took its cue from September 1998, but in the next year when rioting broke out in April, the gunmen waited it out because their plans were for the longer term.
The politicians have tried to sell us the idea that it is a few cold-hearted gunmen who are responsible for the many murders in our society. That is just not true. In many inner-city communities, the criminality which reaps benefits from "outside" and causes it to accrue to the ghetto is supported by about 90 per cent of the residents. It is pure economics. No gun, no lunch money for the kids. Gun in action - respect, fear, eat well.
SSP Reneto Adams was spot on when he alluded to that some years ago.
I know of instances where senior policemen were approached in an effort to right some wrongs which had been perpetrated on members of a particular community. How did the police deal with it? They took the complaints to the criminal don after which all was well.
The residents in the inner-city communities have been used, abused and discarded by both JLP and PNP, based on the politics of the moment. Left to fend for themselves, they have become brutish in an unkind socio-political and economic environment. The boys I used to link with in 1993 were always impatient for "jobs" and the setting up of factories close to their communities. Since that time, they have given up on the politics helping them and the gun has been their economic saviour. Then at some stage it becomes difficult to determine between the rebel with a cause and the cold-blooded killer. After a while it doesn't matter.
Like our brightest sociologists, political scientists, social anthropologists and economists, the men with guns in the ghetto have done their keen bit of social and political watching. They know that election time is a big trip to the games room and they have witnessed these games numerous times as their hopes, their communities' hopes become dashed at the expense of electing another set of ego trippers.
Their message to the politicians, to genteel uptown folk hiding behind steel-grilled fences and doors and clutching their licensed firearms? Don't wait for the riots. It is here, in your face, Glock-style, all day, year-round.</span></div></div>
Reference:
Wignall, M. (2008 June 26). Columns. The Jamaica Observer. Retrieved on June 26, 2008, from http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/columns/h..._BLOWN_RIOT.asp
Most of my writings then had a distinct bias towards the position of these poor, hopeless and "powerless" people, especially when there were clashes between their communities (read gunmen) and the police. With more than a sprinkling of naivety, I charged headlong into "defending poor people's rights" by accepting that the police were brutal to them as a first resort. Only in very few instances did I bother to scratch the veneer in order to determine if the police claims of "shootout" were authentic.
At those times the police versions were unimaginative and crude, and indicative that in any confrontation between ghetto and police, the forces of "law and order" had the full backing of the government, even if entire communities were seen as fair game.
At that stage, I heard the rumblings - an unwritten consensus among the discarded poor and powerless - that "a big one was inevitable". In conversation with a powerful politician, now in the Cabinet, I asked him, "What is it that will solve Jamaica's many problems or lead us out of our present socio-economic predicament?"
Without hesitation he answered, "Armed, violent revolution." As one who believed that a radical, societal upending was not just necessary but inevitable, I had no trouble agreeing with him. When April 1999 rolled upon us and a four-day riot over gas-price increases saw poor communities (aided by the Opposition JLP), involved in blocking roads, burning debris and a few commercial establishments, looting and extorting, I recognised it for what it was. Ghetto people's fete. Carry a bottle or a crate or a looted box of chicken. The April 1999 riots provided relief for the criminal-minded. It was not "IT".
Between 1999 and now, something has crept upon us and maybe only a few have seen it for what it is. The "riot" is really upon us, but in a more deadly and subtly toxic form. It doesn't signal to us that we cannot make it to work today because the roads are piled high with burning tyres and discarded lumber. It doesn't occupy our minds as a protest event that will blow over after the energy wanes. We have no immediate concerns that we will not be able to make it to the hospital to visit a relative who is ill because the "riot" has crippled public transportation.
The criminal gun has been in "riot" mode every day since the April 1999 riots. In 2005, the fateful year Jamaica achieved the dishonour of being classified as the murder capital of the world, our minister of national security said, "With many of the 'Kingfish' of crime out of the way, a second tier of criminals have simply sought to compensate for the loss of income from drugs by expanding their activities in extortion and robbery."
In citing a study, the minister said, "Seventy-five per cent of perpetrators as well as victims of violent crime are from the 123,000 unemployed 15-29 year-olds."
In 1996 when the perennially troubled JLP enclave Rema began its internecine warfare with Denham Town and Tivoli, I engaged about 20 young men from Rema in conversation.
After telling me of the "nuff gun" they said they had in Rema, the focus shifted to what they saw as the wider society and successive administrations abandoning them. The idea of "revolution" was introduced. Said one, "Uptown people a idiot. If a revolution start, the gardener, the helper, the plumber weh a work fi uptown people - weh yuh believe dem come from? Place like Rema an Jungle. We wouldn't even haffi fire a shot."
It is my firm conviction that the state, out of its impotence, ceded power to the streets in September 1998 when then Matthews Lane don Zeeks, after being held by the police, was given a megaphone by the authorities at the Central Police Station to address the crowd which had gathered in an effort to "cool the temperature". Since that time and after the 1999 riots, it has been the criminal gun which has been calling the shots (pun intended) in this country.
Peter Phillips as security minister then was discombobulated. The present minister, Col Trevor MacMillan, has great ideas, I am told. If he has one single idea for the short-term cessation of the runaway murder rate, he hasn't told us, and in any event, it doesn't seem to be working.
The armed "revolution" and the "rioting" is on, but we are unable to detect it because it is spread out over 365 days for the year. The criminal gun took its cue from September 1998, but in the next year when rioting broke out in April, the gunmen waited it out because their plans were for the longer term.
The politicians have tried to sell us the idea that it is a few cold-hearted gunmen who are responsible for the many murders in our society. That is just not true. In many inner-city communities, the criminality which reaps benefits from "outside" and causes it to accrue to the ghetto is supported by about 90 per cent of the residents. It is pure economics. No gun, no lunch money for the kids. Gun in action - respect, fear, eat well.
SSP Reneto Adams was spot on when he alluded to that some years ago.
I know of instances where senior policemen were approached in an effort to right some wrongs which had been perpetrated on members of a particular community. How did the police deal with it? They took the complaints to the criminal don after which all was well.
The residents in the inner-city communities have been used, abused and discarded by both JLP and PNP, based on the politics of the moment. Left to fend for themselves, they have become brutish in an unkind socio-political and economic environment. The boys I used to link with in 1993 were always impatient for "jobs" and the setting up of factories close to their communities. Since that time, they have given up on the politics helping them and the gun has been their economic saviour. Then at some stage it becomes difficult to determine between the rebel with a cause and the cold-blooded killer. After a while it doesn't matter.
Like our brightest sociologists, political scientists, social anthropologists and economists, the men with guns in the ghetto have done their keen bit of social and political watching. They know that election time is a big trip to the games room and they have witnessed these games numerous times as their hopes, their communities' hopes become dashed at the expense of electing another set of ego trippers.
Their message to the politicians, to genteel uptown folk hiding behind steel-grilled fences and doors and clutching their licensed firearms? Don't wait for the riots. It is here, in your face, Glock-style, all day, year-round.</span></div></div>
Reference:
Wignall, M. (2008 June 26). Columns. The Jamaica Observer. Retrieved on June 26, 2008, from http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/columns/h..._BLOWN_RIOT.asp
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