Dr Winford James
Max Albert and I continue our discussions on the Tobago autonomy question.
In recent weeks, our conversations have focused on the constitutional evolution of Tobago and the institutions created to give expression to Tobago’s distinct identity within the Republic, and as often happens in serious inquiry, one question has led to another. We have found ourselves considering a matter that has surprisingly little national attention: what T&T thought it was restoring when the Tobago House of Assembly (THA) was re-established through Act 37 of 1980.
The purpose of the Act was to make provision for the administration of Tobago by devolving specific powers—formulation of policy and implementation of national policies from the central government. It allowed for an elected THA, appointed Councillors, an Executive Council, and administrative staff.
But the new powers and structure not only moved Tobago away from the County Council and gave Tobago more administrative ability; they were a constitutional acknowledgement that Tobago possessed a distinct identity, unique developmental challenges, and legitimate aspirations requiring institutional expression. They were, in effect, a recognition that Tobago could not be properly governed solely through arrangements designed for the larger island.
Indeed, if we examine Tobago’s constitutional evolution carefully, the 1980 re-establishment and the administrative developments embodied in Act No 8 of 1988 may be viewed as two components of the same constitutional project: political leadership on the one hand, and the machinery for implementation on the other. Together, they represented the gradual emergence of a distinctive politico-administrative structure within the Republic.
Authority needs administrative teeth if it is not to be mired in inertia. And administration without political direction lacks democratic legitimacy. Viewed through this lens, the restoration of the Assembly and the administrative reforms that followed were part of a larger constitutional projection and evolution whose implications may not have been fully absorbed by the national consciousness.
The laws changed. The institutions changed. The constitutional landscape changed. But did the psychology of the Republic change accordingly?
If Trinidad genuinely regarded the restored Assembly as an authentic instrument of governance within its sphere of responsibility, one would expect a corresponding adjustment in the way the institution and its officeholders were viewed. One would expect status to reflect responsibility. One would expect protocol to reflect constitutional significance. One would expect remuneration to reflect executive authority. One would expect recognition to evolve alongside constitutional development.
Yet Tobago’s experience often suggests a more uncomfortable reality.
The Assembly exists, but debates over its authority have persisted. Administrative responsibilities have expanded, yet questions of control remain unresolved. Financial authority remains contested. Planning authority remains disputed. And autonomy itself has become the subject of recurring national debate.
These controversies all point toward a deeper unresolved question. What place was Tobago intended to occupy within the constitutional imagination of the Republic? Was the Assembly viewed as a genuine partner institution within the national framework? Or was it regarded primarily as an administrative accommodation designed to address Tobago’s concerns without fundamentally altering established patterns of authority?
The distinction is important, for institutions are shaped not only by legislation but also by perception. How a nation views an institution often determines how it treats that institution.
These reflections have been sharpened by our examination of the financial circumstances of former, pioneering Assembly members, particularly circumstances relating to remuneration, pensions, and retirement benefits. As we explored them, however, a larger question began to emerge. Salary is more than compensation. It is recognition. It is society’s way of signalling the importance attached to an office and the responsibilities carried by its holder.
The same may be said of protocol. Many citizens regard protocol as little more than ceremony. In reality, protocol is one of the clearest expressions of constitutional psychology.
Protocol lists reveal how a State understands authority, responsibility, and status. They indicate where institutions and officeholders are situated within the national order. They communicate how the Republic values the offices through which public power is exercised.
This raises an important question. Where should the Chief Secretary stand within the protocol structure of T&T? Where should Secretaries of the Assembly stand?
These questions are not matters of vanity. They are matters of constitutional meaning. The issue is not whether the Chief Secretary is identical to the Prime Minister. Nor is it whether Secretaries of the Assembly are identical to Ministers of Government.
The issue is whether they occupy analogous positions within their respective spheres of responsibility and whether that reality deserves greater recognition than has traditionally been accorded.
A mature Republic should not fear that discussion. Indeed, one may reasonably argue that the constitutional evolution of Tobago requires a corresponding evolution in protocol, status, and remuneration. Such an evolution would not diminish national institutions. Rather, it would strengthen the Union by aligning constitutional perception with constitutional reality. If the Assembly is to be regarded as a genuine instrument of governance and not merely an administrative convenience, then those entrusted with its leadership must be accorded a level of recognition consistent with the significance of the offices they hold.
This is not a matter of privilege. It is a matter of constitutional coherence. Perhaps it is the recognition that the political and administrative institutions created for Tobago over the last four decades deserve a place within the national order that reflects their true constitutional significance. That conversation is long overdue.
Dr Winford James is a retired UWI lecturer who has been analysing issues in education, language, development and politics in T&T 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.
