Austin Tuitt is no Johnny-come-lately. From his humble beginnings in south Trinidad as The Mighty Skylark, he has always excelled at provoking the social conscience. "Wake up," "Think," and "Act" continue to be his mantra in his latest literary effort-Global Caribbean Representation: By our Peoples' will-from the grassroots up! Here, Tuitt presents his template for economic and social reform. The Caribbean, including its Diaspora, he believes, is uniquely positioned to benefit from his programme. His writing style though, is verbose and laden with acronyms, which, in addition to being unsettling, hamstrings the fluidity of the book's oratorical pinning. This is unfortunate and can undermine the relevance and universality of the message-restructuring the society through peoples' participation and real democratic representation.
However, Caribbean Representation should not be dismissed. It raises key issues and builds on the Grameen concept of micro-financing, which is growing throughout Asia, Africa and Latin America. The author is intuitive and offers an interesting socio-economic prescription after his detailed diagnosis.
He uses a historical lens to understand the region's limited productivity and "low self-esteem that emits from lack of ownership" (emphasis mine.) This approach is hardly original. What defines Tuitt is his ability to effortlessly and effectively delineate the "thread of evil intent" in past forms of servitude and their contemporary counterparts-the IMF and the World Bank. The result has always been the same-the amalgamation of wealth and resources in the hands of the few. Tuitt is relentless, laying down the gauntlet-the present system is untenable. Corruption, nepotism, graft, social upheavals are symptomatic of a social malaise supported by artificial values. Here, he introduces one of his many concepts, Total Relativity, basically meaning that society is gestalt in nature-that the whole cannot truly survive without the parts. But does Caribbean Representation offer a viable and applicable solution? The author's plan is ambitious. It promotes the reconfiguration of the education system and the preeminence of the family unit as the purveyors of his joint ventures and cooperative philosophy. But a peep into the annals of history may also show just how flawed Tuitt's thesis might be.
The failure of the Grenadian Revolution which touted the "Peoples' participation" ideology, and sabotage of The Freedom Charter in post Apartheid South Africa beg the question: Are such noble causes forever doomed by the outside elements, pernicious and unforgiving in nature? Tuitt is understandably an admirer of Jamaican revolutionary, Marcus Garvey and Grenadian born Uriah "Buzz" Butler, both pioneers of grassroots movements that have had a global impact. But again, can Tuitt's model provoke the same response? The answer may be hidden in the author's philosophical tone in the closing stages of Caribbean Representation. Maybe, he too realises the enormity, if not the impossibility of re-sculpting society. He appeals to the "atman," within us-that pure inner spirit that should, but has never united humankind. Maybe, we are too insatiable, ruthlessly competitive and individualistic. Maybe, Caribbean Representation goes against our natural instincts. While demonstrations and anti-establishment rhetoric are the zeitgeist of our time, so they were in past eras. Maybe we are obsessed over wresting power from the hands of the few, not really changing the system. Possibly, it's a leap of faith on Tuitt's part to believe otherwise. Tuitt's undertaking is no doubt bold, and he should be lauded for his naked honesty. His ideas are brilliant. But he can be faulted for dabbling in idealism. Sadly, his efforts may never bear lasting fruits. Humankind, by its very selfish nature, will not allow it.