Tags
Authoritarian government, “This is the Dark Time My Love” by Martin Carter, Dr. Cheddi Jagan, Forbes Burnham, Fr. Bernard Darke SJ, Guyanese Poet Martin Carter, Poems of Resistance from British Guiana by Martin Carter, Racial and ethnic divisive politics, Suspension of the British Guiana Constitution 1953, Working class oppression
British soldiers arrive in Georgetown – British Guiana – October 9, 1953
Photo Credit: Stabroek News (Photo British Pathé)
My Poetry Corner July 2019 features the poem “This is the Dark Time My Love” by Guyanese poet Martin Carter (1927-1997) from his poetry collection, Poems of Resistance from British Guiana (London 1954). Following the suspension of the British Guiana Constitution in 1953, the poet-politician composed the poems in this collection during his three-month detention, together with other political leaders, by the British Army.
For readers unfamiliar with Guyana’s history, a former British colony until May 26, 1966, slavery ended in 1834. Indentured laborers began arriving from India in 1838 and continued until 1917. Other immigrant workers came from Portuguese Madeira (1835-1882) and China (1853-1879). The population of the colony in the mid-1950s was about 450,000 people (UN estimate).
Born in 1927 in Georgetown, the capital of then British Guiana, to middle class parents of African, Indian, and European ancestry, the young Martin grows up with an appreciation for literature, poetry, and philosophy. After attending the colony’s prestigious Queen’s College, for boys only, he gains entry to the civil service, working first at the post office, then later as the secretary of the superintendent of prisons.
Aware of the oppression and despair of the sugarcane workers who toil under harsh conditions on the British-owned sugar plantations, Carter joins the political struggle for self-governance. In “Looking at Your Hands” (1), he affirms his solidarity with the plantation workers in their shared struggle under British rule.
No!
I will not still my voice!
I have
too much to claim –
[…]
you must know
I do not sleep to dream
but dream to change the world.
Then everything changes on October 9, 1953. After holding local elections for shared governance, the British under Churchill clandestinely land troops to oust the 133-day-old elected government led by the leftist-leaning Dr. Cheddi Jagan, an American trained dentist of Indian descent. Carter, a member of Jagan’s political party, is devastated. He writes in “Not Hands Like Mine” (2):
Here, right at my feet
my strangled city lies,
my father’s city and my mother’s heart:
hoarse, groaning tongues,
children without love,
mothers without blood
all cold as dust, night dim, there is no rest.
Forbes Burnham (rear) and Cheddi Jagan
boarding British Guiana Airways for London/UK in 1953
Photo Credit: Stabroek News
Carter’s life remains in the balance when British soldiers arrive at his residence and place him under arrest. Together with other senior members of the party, he spends the next three months at a British army detention camp. In “Letter 2” (2), the poet-politician writes to his wife from prison:
O my darling!
O my dear wife whose voice I cannot hear.
Tell me, the young one, is he creeping now
and is he well and mischievous as ever?
Or is the cloud so heavy on the land
too deep for him to see the wonderful sky?
Martin Carter (right) in a prison van with Cheddi Jagan – British Guiana – 1954
Photo courtesy Nigel Westmaas
Photo Credit: The Caribbean Review of Books
The following year (1955), the rattled labor party splinters into two. While Jagan maintains his hold over the Indian base, Forbes Burnham—the party’s co-founder, a British trained attorney of African descent, favored by the British—secures most of the African base and forms a new and more moderate party. The stage is set for the divisive racial and ethnic politics that cripples Guyana to this day.
A year after Black Friday 1962, when rioters and looters torched Georgetown’s commercial district, Carter laments the violence, destruction, and death that affect and corrupt them all, himself included, in his poem “After One Year” (3).
Rude citizen! think you I do not know
that love is stammered, hate is shouted out
in every human city in this world?
Men murder men, as men must murder men,
to build their shining governments of the damned.
With a sense of impotence, Carter struggles with the lies, fears, anger, and bloodshed that become a part of their daily lives. In “What Can a Man Do More?” (3), he expresses his deep remorse / for seeds that rot, for interrupted love, / and hours spent digging hopes out of a grave. He, too, search[es] through nights of frightened stars / and weep[s] by gateways of the bleeding houses. He shares his frustrations:
How utter truth when falsehood is the truth?
How welcome dreams, how flee the newest lie?
With support from the British and American governments, Burnham’s centrist party leads the colony to independence in May 1966. Now a supporter of the Burnham government, Carter becomes Guyana’s representative to the United Nations (1966-1967). Later, he accepts the appointment as the nation’s Minister of Information. In 1970, disillusioned by the racism, hypocrisy, and corruption under their new government, Carter resigns his post. In his public announcement, he cites two lines from his poem “A Mouth is Always Muzzled,” (4): a mouth is always muzzled / by the food it eats to live. Freedom of the press and freedom of individual speech are held captive.
Carter’s featured poem, “This is the Dark Time My Love” (2), written during his three-month period in detention, reflects these dark days under America’s current administration where each new day can bring a new crisis of some sort—for targeted individuals, minority groups, or vulnerable communities across America; for our foreign allies, or declared enemies. In the second of three verses, the poet shares his anxiety and fears about the future of his country and its people.
This is the dark time, my love.
It is the season of oppression, dark metal, and tears.
It is the festival of guns, the carnival of misery.
Everywhere the faces of men are strained and anxious.
Father Bernard Darke (extreme left) flees attackers during public demonstration Georgetown, Guyana – July 14, 1979
Photo Credit: Guyana Under Siege
Despite his disillusion with the corrupt, authoritarian government, Carter never deserts his beloved homeland to reside overseas. After witnessing the deadly attack on Father Bernard Darke—a British Jesuit priest who was taking photographs of a public demonstration outside the Georgetown Magistrates’ Court for the Catholic newspapers on July 14, 1979—the Poems Man, as he is fondly known among the people, writes in “Bastille Day – Georgetown” (5):
I have at last started
to understand the origin
of our vileness, and being
unable to deny it, I suggest
its nativity.
In the shame of knowledge
of our vileness, we shall fight.
Carter lived to see the crumbling of the British Empire and the rise of a new American power from the ashes of World War II. Since then, very little has changed for working men and women. The vileness of our species, of the powerful elite that dominate our world and its resources, hounds us still.
To read the featured poem, “This is the Dark Time My Love,” and learn more about Martin Carter and his work, go to my Poetry Corner July 2019.
FOOTNOTES:
(1) The Hill of Fire Glows Red, British Guiana, 1951
(2) Poems of Resistance from British Guiana, London/England, 1954
(3) Jail Me Quickly: five poems, British Guiana, 1966
(4) Poems of Succession, London/England, 1977
(5) Poems of Affinity 1978-1980, Guyana, 1980
Thanks for the Guyana history lesson. Martin Carter wrote powerful words. -Rebecca
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for reading, Rebecca 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Foi um prazer! -Rebecca
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a vile tragedy. Great poetry and spirit from Carter.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for dropping by, Paul 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Most welcome Rosaliene 🙂
LikeLike
Reminded me of W.E.B. Du Bois and his writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No doubt, Martin Carter was familiar with his work.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wondered, what a desperate time. Reminded me of Patrice Lumumba’s fight in the Congo.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Independence did not come without much bloodshed and internal strife for the British colonies.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No, they were so bad, mind you, shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but really bad at relinquishing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you for bringing this
history to my attention, Rosaliene!
i can feel the sadness of his words
and experience how those old sentiments
have become anew social/political reality.
may those who are not aligned with fear,
hate and greed find away to come together
and change the situation before it is
really too late 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I share your hope, David. We humans have been down this road before and it never ends well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
i’m curious if you experience people or communities connecting in your area, as a way to feel safer and/or prepare of possible ‘disasters?’
LikeLiked by 1 person
David, I’m not aware of such plans in my area. This year, our police department has held two open-house events for the general public. Ever distrustful of the police, I did not participate.
For my part, I work at building a community spirit among my neighbors within our thirty-unit, apartment complex. I’ve connected with a few; the majority guard their privacy.
LikeLike
thanks for the reply, Rosaliene! how wonderful to build community spirit, best you can. perhaps there will be non-profit organization which could potentially assist future community building efforts by neighbors. i understand trusting the govt is problematic at this point, having established actual border concentration camps 😦 wishing you a happy day 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
A happy day to you, too, David 🙂
LikeLike
Sad and troubling history as our world is once again.
Love the poem…it speaks to me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Mary. Of late, the words of Carter’s poem have been haunting me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think some poems and certain photos, especially black and white, can say a lot.
I collect sayings and shorter poems and this one spoke to me as well. I wish I could write poetry, but I can’t.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, such powerful words evoking strong emotions. And a history lesson on top of that.
Great post.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Shift 🙂 Guyana’s story is not only tied up with Britain, but also with America.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was 11 in 1953 and remained ignorant of all this. Thank you for the enlightenment. An excellent poem
LikeLiked by 2 people
So glad that I can offer you some enlightenment about British history, Derrick. By design, we the people rarely know the havoc our country’s foreign policies are raining down on people in countries beyond our borders.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My dad talked about the political situation in Guyana when I was a child. I remember him saying the name Cheddi Jagan. What with Jamaica emerging as a sovereign nation as well, the adults would have kept in the know about our neighbours.
“Carter lived to see the crumbling of the British Empire and the rise of a new American power from the ashes of World War II.” I liked how you summarized the changing of the guard from colonialism to imperialism. It echoes the line in the poem about the man at death aiming a gun at the people’s dreams.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Jackie, thanks for sharing your personal experience. The former British Caribbean territories, including Guyana, share a common history. What happened in Guyana would definitely have raised alarms throughout the region.
LikeLike
The poem is desperately sad, but simultaneously beautiful. A rare creation. Thank you, Rosaliene.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dr. Stein, I’m pleased that you can appreciate the work of Martin Carter 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you for sharing!.. it is sad that a element of world’s society uses knowledge not to improve the well being of the human race but rather improve upon the “club” and impose their ideology on others… 🙂
“The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom”. Isaac Asimov
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dutch, I’m glad that you can appreciate Carter’s poetry 🙂 What’s sad, more tragic, is that the Masters of Our World are still busy at imposing their ideology on sovereign nations worldwide.
LikeLike
Quote: “Carter lived to see the crumbling of the British Empire and the rise of a new American power from the ashes of World War II. Since then, very little has changed for working men and women. The vileness of our species, of the powerful elite that dominate our world and its resources, hounds us still.”
I think that sums it up only too well. The more things change, the more they stay the same, said my history teacher. In my opinion, they become worse, seldom better. “The vileness of our species” answers why that is.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for dropping by and sharing your thoughts, Sha’Tara 🙂
LikeLike
Powerful words indeed, Rosaliene.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for dropping by, Henry 🙂
LikeLike
Always my pleasure Rosaliene!
LikeLike
🙂
LikeLike
Great Great poetry.
LikeLike
Thanks for reading 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Powerful poetry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Mark 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your words ring as true today as a year ago. Thank you for the introduction to Martin Carter.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for reading, Crystal 🙂 Tragically, conditions have worsened since then.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s awful.
LikeLiked by 1 person