AS the season of reverence, commerce, merrymaking — and politics — recedes from our view in the rear-view mirror, we now have to buckle down and face a new, hard year. The new prime minister acknowledged this as she spoke after taking the oath of office two days ago. Portia Simpson Miller’s first undertaking is to take a hard look at the state of the economy and what she and her team can do to make things better. That’s not going to be an easy task — it never is, in the best of times, and these are certainly far from being the best of times.

But the year which began a scant week ago is important for a different reason. I don’t need to remind you that in a little more than seven months, all our attention will be focused on the celebrations of a half-century of Independence. I recall the events of 1962 well, even though I wasn’t privileged to witness first-hand the dramatic moment symbolising the changeover.

At midnight on that August night 50 years ago, the old Union Jack, which had been flying from the mast at the National Stadium, was lowered as Jamaica’s national standard for the last time and the new banner, with its four triangles of green and black intersected by a diagonal gold cross, was run up the pole and spread itself out as the wind took it.

Six months earlier, I had come on staff at the Jamaica Broadcasting Corporation as a rookie news editor, and on that momentous night I was on duty with two eminent colleagues — John Maxwell and Audrey Chong — both of whom, sadly, are no longer with us. Television was more than a year away, so we listened to the live radio broadcast from the National Stadium and wrote scripts for the next morning’s newscasts, which would take place on our first Independence Day.

The whole country had been in a state of frenzied activity in the previous 11 months. On September 19, 1961, almost 800,000 Jamaicans had turned out to polling stations from the scruffy environs of West Kingston and palatial mansions in upper St Andrew to humble dwellings in rural Clarendon and hillside schoolhouses in deepest Hanover. Just over 54 per cent voted against the island continuing as a province of the fledgling West Indies Federation, in existence less than four years at that point.

That’s when things became really busy. Norman Manley, as premier, responded to the protracted anti-sniping by Alexander Bustamante and his JLP by asking the people for their opinion. When he heard their verdict, he announced that Jamaica would now go it alone as an independent country. We have to remember that selfdetermination was on the agenda from the founding of the PNP almost a quartercentury before.

Manley threw himself into the task of drawing up the blueprints for a new country. Along with members of his Cabinet and the political opposition, he went off to London for negotiations with the British Colonial Office on exactly how to implement this business of independence.

Coupled with the official talks at Marlborough House in London, the Government had named a committee to hear submissions from the public on what sort of things they would like to see in the organic document which would form the foundation of the new independent country. The committee received submissions from a variety of sources — old-line public-spirited bodies which had always commented on public affairs; special-interest organisations with particular axes to grind; as well as ad hoc groups put together specifically for this purpose. In the end, the product which emerged stuck quite closely to the type of government which had evolved over the years of British tutelage.

Those founders refused to strike out on a new path and devise a national setup which reflected the polyglot nature the mid-century Jamaica had evolved into. So the document which governs today’s Jamaica resembles more closely the unwritten constitution under which Britain had operated for centuries, rather than the realities of a New World nation.

Sure, there are a couple of wrinkles, the most important, noted widely at the time, being constitutional recognition of the leader of the opposition. We were stuck with the old Westminster system, complete with that relic of colonialism, the governor general, who to this day carries a British title, that of a knight of the realm. In fact, the first governor general wasn’t even a Jamaican, but rather the same person who was the last colonial governor!

So I was happy to hear Simpson Miller proclaim that she intends to complete the independence project and become a republic with its own indigenous head of state as well as ditching the anachronistic Privy Council as the final judicial referee. We have, of course, heard these promises before — from Michael Manley on down — but so far they have been nothing but hollow rhetoric and empty promises. We can only hope that this time it has a chance of becoming a reality.

Life can be brutal, and political life is an extremely fickle and unforgiving business. So Norman Manley, who had spent his entire political life working towards taking his beloved country into independence, was thwarted of that ambition on the threshold of the reality. Going against the prevailing feeling of his political colleagues, Manley called an election to decide who should lead the country into the new world. On April 10, 1962, Jamaican voters awarded 26 of the 45 seats in Parliament to his political opponents. Thus it was Bustamante, with a last-minute knighthood from Britain, who became Jamaica’s first prime minister.

If Sister P is serious about the republican project, she should take advantage of the opportunity to review several other aspects of the country’s governance and make the commensurate adjustments necessary to bring the country into the 21st century. For instance — aside from the fact that a considerable amount of money is needed — the folks looking at constitutional changes may want to see whether the whole judicial system needs modernisation: appointments, standard operations and extensive use of technology to facilitate processing and disposal of cases, handling of evidence and the maintenance of records.

In a couple of recent columns I discussed some aspects of what kind of republic and legislature would work in the new scheme of things and some of the pitfalls that could trip up the unwary. As I noted, converting to a republic and making other structural changes is an intricate and involved process and should be tackled carefully and systematically.

Therefore, I would recommend that even as the new administration begins to examine these matters and to sketch out the way it wants to go, it should strongly resist the temptation to introduce changes in time for the observance of the 50th anniversary of Independence. At this stage of the game, there is absolutely no need to rush the process —we have had 50 years in which to do it and it hasn’t happened yet.

Instead, the new set of Comrades occupying Gordon House should heed their leader’s remarks this week and focus like a laser on the economy. That’s the priority, and re-tooling the constitutional arrangements can proceed at a more measured pace, taking care to get it right this time. Among the serious business, the fun should be in commemorating the transition to Independence and showcasing the real progress that has been made in the first 50 years.