WHEN the history books are written it will be recorded that Edward Philip George Seaga played a pivotal role in the development of modern Jamaica. No single Jamaican living today has achieved as much as he has in national development. His service has been stellar and it can be said that it has been service above self.

Indeed, now, at the twilight of his life, he continues to serve, demonstrating a fecundity of mind that belies his years and surpasses that of many much younger. He is an enduring fixture in the Jamaican political infrastructure but, unlike others, I am not ready to elevate him or Michael Manley, for that matter, to the status of national hero.

Seaga has been in a contemplative mood of late. By his own admission, his heart is broken at what he sees as the seeming implosion of the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP). In this regard, he has been sounding like a man who has taken some comfort in the book of the Lamentations. He has decried the “unbridled selfishness” that is wrecking the politics of the country, and has urged our political practitioners to put the country above self. In the words of the Rotary dictum, he is hoping that they can return to a posture of service above self. He is deeply concerned about the extent to which the projection of self is riding roughshod over service in both political parties.

His disquiet or, more properly, lament must be placed in context. Part of this context is that he was the leader of the JLP for 30 years, serving as prime minister of Jamaica for nine years of that time. Despite his stellar achievement in government and in the portfolios he has held, Seaga’s persistent failure has been his inability to unify the JLP; to create a sense of family that is capable of settling its disputes without metaphorical swords being drawn and blood being spilt. Indeed, the culture of the JLP, starting from its founder and first leader, Sir Alexander Bustamante, has been one dominated by a paramount leader with all its attendant proclivities towards dictatorship. Seaga, during his tenure, cemented himself as the “one don” who could not be challenged. Even when he feigned resignation, it was clear that the fawning masses within the JLP would not accept it and that they would come running back to him — sankey and all — to beg him to stay. Those like Mike Henry who sought to challenge his leadership were regarded with suspicion, if not relegated.

Golding inherited this culture but did not last long enough to stamp his ‘donmanism’ over the party. Indeed, he fell on a sword of his own making and, in departing, made matters worse by anointing “Prince Andrew” as leader. It was made clear that no challenge to this decision would be countenanced as youth had won the day, and the old fogeys should line up behind the anointed. For the sake of peace and unity in the party, the rank and file lined up behind the decision. It was soon proven that highly placed officials in the party had done so reluctantly, for it was not long before fissures of discontent appeared, which eventually boiled over in a leadership challenge by the Audley Shaw camp. Today, anybody who believes that there is unity in the JLP has been smoking more than the two ounces of ganja that is now allowed by law. Not only is the JLP not skilled at diluting fractious behaviour, as the PNP is, but the whole matter is threatening to upend the party and beckons its self-immolation and a long stint in the political wilderness.

This is the context in which Seaga’s lament must be seen. But the greater context is that, on solemn reflection, Seaga must ask what has been his own contribution to this fractious melting of the JLP. Did he stay too long at the helm of the leadership of the party? When the various ‘gangs’ emerged under his leadership, did he not see that there was more than a cry for him to democratise the political process within the party instead of selfishly presenting himself as the only person who could make it a viable concern? He rightly decries the selfishness in the Jamaican political process, but what did he do in his time to stem the tide of this selfishness (I almost wrote lawlessness)? Where was the magnanimity of spirit to entertain dissension or to even recognise that his expiry date had long passed? Did he have to wait on the “young turks” to give him more than a gentle shove for him to know that he had become more than a humbug to the party?

There must indeed be room in his heart for regret and even repentance. For what Andrew Holness has inherited is no less the legacy of Seaga: A legacy of the paramount leader who was beyond question or challenge. It can safely be said that Seaga’s stellar performance in government has not been reciprocated in the way he governed the party in his time. No one in the JLP will say this, except perhaps Holness’s detractors, but what the party has become is a function of the dysfunctional leadership style adopted by Seaga when he had the opportunity to do differently.

Holness seems to harbour the illusion that this autocratic approach to leadership will win the day. Those who do not agree with him can pack up and leave. There are more highways now being built on which they can be accommodated. He is not coming across as a transformational leader precisely because he has bought into the autocratic narrative of his predecessors. We are in the season of Lent, which will culminate in the resurrection on Easter Day. This is a time for repentance, pardon and redemption. Who will repent, who will be pardoned? There is plenty redemption to be had.

Dr Raulston Nembhard is a priest and social commentator. Comments: stead6655@aol.com.