Last week I watched a television show which featured a Belizean man and lady promoting their plans for a Belize District branch of the National Kriol Council (NKC). The NKC was formed in 1995 or 1996, and some people say the driving force behind its foundation was the late Mrs. Ruby Marrith. The two people who emerged as the faces of the NKC in 1996, however, were Silvana Woods (now “Udz”) and Myrna Manzanares.
It was because of the NKC, and the attempt by officials in the National Garifuna Council (NGC) and the Central American Black Organization (CABO) to have that said and fledgling NKC represent the so-called Creole people of Belize in CABO, that a group of us, including myself, Ismail Shabazz, Wilfred Nicholas, Sr., Lillette Barkley-Waite, and Dr. Leroy Taegar, established the UBAD Educational Foundation (UEF) in 1996. Our purpose was to do exactly what the NKC was about – represent non-Garifuna Belizean black people in CABO.
Previous to 1966, black people in the United States of America were generally known as “Negroes.” After the late Stokely Carmichael (later known as “Kwame Toure”) created the “black power” movement in 1966 in Mississippi, then young, conscious African Americans began to refer to themselves as “black.”
In the United States, by law if you had just the tiniest bit of African blood, you were classified as a “Negro.” So once the “black” designation became the thing in America in the later 1960s, even very light-skinned American Negroes had no problem declaring themselves “black.” They had been “Negroes” all their lives, no matter how light they were, and now they moved over to “black.” No problem.
In British Honduras prior to 1969, black people were generally known as “Creoles.” Those black British Hondurans who had come up from St. Vincent and Roatan, for their part, were called “Caribs.” “Carib” was an all-inclusive term for a unique group of people with a specific history and mix. “Creole,” on the other hand, was an ambiguous designation, because it referred to both very dark-skinned British Hondurans and very light-skinned ones. British colonial systems in the Caribbean had allowed for light-skinned “Creoles” to enjoy a higher status than dark-skinned ones. This is the case in Belize. There existed a mulatto buffer class, Belizeans who enjoyed preferential status because their skin was lighter in color, usually because they were the victims or beneficiaries, depending on your point of view, of some degree of European paternity along the generational line.
The thing about the “Creole” designation, to my mind, apart from its ambiguity with respect to the “colorism” reality which had dominated in British Honduras/Belize, was that it made no allowance for Africa. Remember now, that Belize’s white supremacist education system, in tandem with the socio-economic status quo, had done such a job of messing up our minds in Belize that “Creoles” absolutely hated and rejected their African origin. You could not refer to any Creole as “African” without that individual believing that you were trying to insult him/her.
Along came UBAD in Belize in 1969, riding the wave of black consciousness which was surging out of America into the Caribbean and Latin America. Because of the prevailing colorism in Belize, as opposed to the stark black-versus-white situation in the United States, some Belizean Creoles, because they could see that the color of their skin was not black, or anywhere near to black, immediately condemned the “black” designation. (A Belizean named Carleton Russell came all the way from New York City in 1971 to offer UBAD money to change the “Black” in its name to “Belizean.”) For sure, nevertheless, there were thousands of young African Belizeans who embraced black consciousness and the black designation in 1969.
The “black” thing was controversial in Belize. And it was easy to see why. In Belize, black was both an ethnicity and a color. Theoretically then, you could be black in ethnicity but not black in color. In the United States, because the laws were different, color did not matter a great deal. It was the black ethnicity that mattered.
My personal position on the matter was that I believed in shock therapy. To hell with the ambiguity. Let’s be as black and as African as we can be, and then work our way from there. We’ve spent decades and centuries trying to “raise our color.” That was because of the total white supremacy around us. But in shunning Africa, we were shunning ourselves. In hating Africa, we were hating ourselves. If you don’t love yourself, then you go through life with a heavy, heavy burden. So, UBAD was shock therapy, and maybe it worked, and maybe it didn’t.
If people who consider themselves Creole truly believe that they need a Creole organization, then perhaps it’s time for people like myself to become observers instead of activists. Remember, the Creole people have become a demographic minority in the last two decades. Again, maybe Creole thinkers believe they need to differentiate themselves from the Garinagu in a specific organizational framework. I don’t know, but I’m prepared to listen.
I know that when I found out about the National Kriol Council in 1996, warning bells went off in my mind. The first thing I said to myself was, here is yet another attempt to downplay, yea deny, the African reality. The second thing was, as sweet a person as she is, Silvana Udz works for Landivar and for the oligarchy. Bottom line. Thirdly, Myrna Manzanares is a passionate UDP partisan.
I had a friend, the late Dr. Neil Garbutt, who was really into this “Creole” consciousness. I know that he was not working for Landivar or for the oligarchy, and he was not involved in party politics. So, it appears to me that there are sincere Belizeans who feel the need to “feel” Creole. Respect to them.
No need for I to play my personal music. Been doing it for 41 years. Black, African, and Belizean. Who bex, bex. Who bex fus, lose.
Power to the people. Power in the struggle.