Dr Winford James
In my previous column, Max Albert and I talked about autonomy implicitly, as if we expected its meaning to be clear to the reader. In this column, in order to enable the reader to better understand where we are coming from, we correct that oversight by stating that we view autonomy in its truest sense to be the natural right of a people to shape their society, manage their resources, and order their development according to their own judgement – subject to a properly constructed Constitution. We continue this Sunday against that background.
In the column, we addressed the threatening reliance on Memoranda of Understanding to resolve questions that properly belong within the Fifth Schedule of the Tobago House of Assembly Act 40 of 1996. We made the point then—and we repeat it here—that such instruments are wholly inappropriate where authority is already vested in Tobago. They belong more logically to the domains of the Sixth and Seventh Schedules.
If indeed there is an intention to use a memorandum of understanding to achieve an outcome that is already available in the Fifth Schedule, then it must be pointed out that the matter goes beyond law into the very economic future of Tobago.
Autonomy delayed is not without cost. It is expensive.
Every time a planning decision in Tobago must await confirmation or reversal from a Minister in Trinidad, economic activity is slowed, deferred, or lost. Residential developments stall. Commercial investments hesitate. Financial institutions grow cautious. And here is the kicker: young Tobagonians seeking to build homes and livelihoods are left to navigate uncertainty in a system that should be unconfusing and responsive.
This is not merely inefficiency. It is structural underdevelopment. A planning system divided between application in Tobago and final authority in Trinidad cannot achieve coherent development outcomes. On the contrary, it introduces delay at precisely the point where certainty is required. And in a modern economy, delay is cost—real, measurable, and compounding.
The question must therefore be asked: how long can Tobago afford this arrangement?
The present configuration of the House of Representatives makes at least one fact abundantly clear: Tobago’s two seats are not decisive in the formation of Government. Whether under the People’s National Movement or the United National Congress, the arithmetic demonstrates, sine qua non, that political power in Trinidad and Tobago as a whole can be secured without Tobago in the mix.
That reality is not theoretical; it is operational. And it carries consequences.
What, then, is the leverage of the Tobago People’s Party within such a configuration? What capacity exists to compel a Prime Minister to adopt a “No Contest” position, or to bring forward a simple legislative clarification that Fifth Schedule matters are to be exercised fully by Tobago, wherever the word “Minister” appears in the Act?
History provides a sobering answer. In 1996, during debates on Tobago self-governance, Ramesh Lawrence Maharaj was pressed on whether Tobago would be granted powers equivalent to those of the Cabinet. Ramesh acknowledged similarity, if not equivalence, but left it there. So did Kamla Persad-Bissessar.
This is the socio-political reality into which every Tobagonian is born: a system in which autonomy is discussed, negotiated, and deferred, but seldom fully realised.
It is against this backdrop that current policy choices must now be judged—firmly and uncompromisingly.
If, after years of governance, the solution advanced for Town and Country Planning is a Memorandum of Understanding, then a more fundamental question arises: how will Tobago address the larger constitutional issues that would define its future?
What role will Tobago have in the selection of the President, given the representative framework of Parliament? What meaningful influence will it exercise in the appointment of a Commissioner of Police, and what authority will that office have over Tobago in matters of national security?
What, in real terms, is Tobago’s budgetary entitlement? By what mechanism will Tobago determine its economic value within the Republic—not as an afterthought, but as a matter of right? And what of the resources within Tobago’s maritime space? By what logic are these to be measured, valued, and accounted for?
These are not abstract questions. They are foundational.
If, after four years of governance, Tobago cannot resolve a matter of immediate socio-economic importance such as Town and Country Planning—where the law already provides a clear pathway—then serious questions must be asked about both strategy and resolve.
At some point, a more difficult concept must enter the national conversation: BATNA—the Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement.
If Tobago’s position within the Republic continues to be defined by delay, partial authority, and negotiated compromise on matters already settled in law, then the question is no longer whether reform is desirable but whether the existing arrangement is sustainable. That is not a rhetorical question. It is a constitutional one.
Leadership, therefore, must confront a simple but unavoidable truth. Where political leverage is limited, constitutional clarity becomes imperative. Where numbers do not compel, principle must. And where authority already exists in law, it must be exercised—fully, firmly, and unapologetically.
The path forward remains clear. A concise legislative provision that, in respect of Tobago, references “Minister” in laws governing Fifth Schedule matters must be construed as referring to the Tobago Executive Council or its authorised authority. And a formal “No Contest” posture by the State must allow Tobago full exercise of its jurisdiction. Anything less would perpetuate a system where Tobago’s autonomy exists only in theory, and where economic development continues to pay the price for constitutional hesitation.
Tobago cannot afford that delay.
And if autonomy, already written into law, must still be negotiated for in practice, then the time has come not only to question the process, but the arrangement itself.
Dr Winford James is a retired UWI lecturer who has been analysing issues in education, language, development and politics in Trinidad and Tobago and the wider Caribbean on radio and TV since the 1970s. He has also written thousands of columns for all major newspapers in the country.
