March 15, 1997, The Economist (US) Michael Manley. (former prime minister of Jamaica; also former Guyanan Pres Cheddi Jagan) (Obituary)

March 15, 1997, The Economist (US) Michael Manley. (former prime minister of Jamaica; also former Guyanan Pres Cheddi Jagan) (Obituary)

THE Michael Manley who visited the United States in 1990 had cast aside his Che Guevara bush jacket in favour of a suit. The free market had replaced his party's "ten steps to socialism". President Bush was happy to bless a sinner who had apparently repented and he went out of his way to praise the "first-class job" that Mr Manley was doing as prime minister of Jamaica. It takes style and gall to change sides successfully, and Mr Manley had plenty of both. He turned on a reporter who seemed puzzled that the old leftie had become a free marketeer, and said: "Is your outlook on everything the same as it was ten years ago?"

The conversion of Michael Manley meant more to the Americans than the simple falling into line of a politician from a small neighbouring island. Mr Manley sought to be an international figure. In the non-aligned movement and the United Nations he could rise above the little politics of Jamaica and use his accomplished oratory on a world-class audience: Indira Gandhi of India, Nyerere of Tanzania, Kaunda of Zambia, but also Canada's Trudeau and Germany's Brandt. He talked of a "new international economic order" with a redistribution of the world's wealth. Capitalism had to be demolished "brick by brick". Fidel Castro's Cuba was an "interesting experiment".

With stuff like this, whether he actually believed it or was just appeasing Marxists in his party, it was inevitable that opponents called Mr Manley a communist. But his inclination was more towards the democratic socialism invented in Britain called Fabianism. His teacher at the London School of Economics was Harold Laski, the mentor, for better or worse, of numerous students who became politicians in Britain's former colonies. Mr Manley called himself "the most privileged man in Jamaica", and there was some truth in this throwaway phrase.

The spur of a famous father

He was born into Jamaica's mixed-race elite. His father, Norman Manley, a barrister, piloted Jamaica to independence in 1962. His mother, born in Yorkshire, was a sculptor. The need to outdo his dad may have been a spur. And, in his day, Mr Manley commanded the sort of attention accorded to Lee Kuan Yew, another visionary politician from a small island. Sadly for Mr Manley, Jamaica, unlike Singapore, could not be held up as an example of a well-run and prospering nation.

Not all of Jamaica's poverty was Mr Manley's fault. Oil prices jumped, sugar prices did not. But he deserved much of the blame. In 1980, at the end of Mr Manley's first eight years as prime minister, the tourist hotels were almost empty, and so were the supermarket shelves. Much of the middle class had moved to Miami or Toronto. Almost 900 people had been killed in the run-up to the election, partly as a result of warfare between gangs allied to political parties.

Mr Manley's party was decisively beaten by that of Edward Seaga, a conservative. The foreign aid that had been cut off was resumed, but the economy still did not prosper. In 1989 Mr Manley was back in office but without his old ideology. He did as the IMF told him, liberalised foreign exchange and speeded up the privatisation of state enterprises. He stepped down in 1992 with failing health, and grew roses and orchids and watched cricket.

By one of the coincidences of history, another Caribbean politician who once worried the Americans, Cheddi Jagan, president of Guyana, died on the same day as Mr Manley, March 6th. He was 78.

Cheddi Jagan was not "privileged". His parents had come to what was British Guiana as indentured labourers from India. But young Cheddi, the eldest of 11 children, did well. With a few dollars in his pocket he made his way to the United States, got into university, supported himself with part-time jobs and graduated as a dentist. Back home he founded a political party, which had huge success in elections under the colonial regime.

Dr Jagan seemed the likely leader after independence. But the Americans feared that he was a communist. Recently disclosed documents show that America fostered race riots in the country aimed at discrediting Dr Jagan and persuaded Britain to delay independence until voting arrangements could be fixed in favour of his opponent, Forbes Burnham. However, Mr Burnham turned out to be a nasty: an authoritarian with links to the Soviet Union. In retrospect, it seems likely that Dr Jagan would have been a far more desirable national leader. Mr Burnham died in 1985. After holding his party together in opposition for 28 years, Dr Jagan became president in 1992 in the country's first fair election since independence. Yes, he said, he had been a Marxist but "I was a Gorbachev even before Gorbachev." His politically-active wife Janet, an energetic 76, may stand for president in the election likely to be held this year.

With the deaths of Mr Manley and Dr Jagan, the Caribbean will seem a duller place. Only Fidel Castro remains to give the American State Department an occasional sleepless night.