The West Indies: Goodbye to Mother

All the usual trappings and ceremonies will mark the occasion. The Union Jack will come fluttering down, and a new blue and yellow flag will rise in its place. A week of parading and full-dress parties is planned. A new Hilton is opening, and the government is getting ready its application for the United Nations. President Johnson is sending Chief Justice Earl Warren to represent him at the ceremonies, and the Duke and Duchess of Kent will represent the Queen. Yet this week, as tiny (166 sq. mi.), ham-shaped Barbados gets its formal independence from Britain—the 23rd British possession to do so since World War II—its air is filled with a sense of restraint and nostalgia not usually associated with independence celebrations.

Teddibly British. For one thing, “Bajans”—as the residents are known—are pretty used to the ‘idea of self-government: they have had an elected legislature since 1639 and have fully governed themselves since 1961. For another, they are likely to miss the ties to Mother England, whose ways and even appearance are duplicated on the island to a remarkable degree. Alone among the British islands of the Caribbean, Barbados has never been out of English hands since it was settled in 1627. Driving is on the left; neat hedges or stone walls mark property lines; the effective civil service and the police are very British; there is tea at 4, and everyone is keen on cricket. In fact, everything is so teddibly, teddibly British that the capital of Bridgetown has a Trafalgar Square, complete with statue of Lord Nelson, that was built before London’s.

Barbados, for all that, is no little England. Fully a seventh of the island is sinking as a result of swift underground currents, and it will take an estimated $40 million to correct the situation. The island’s 250,000 population makes it the third most densely populated area in the Commonwealth, after Hong Kong and Malta. The density is easing only where it can least be afforded: the cream of Bajan youth is emigrating to the better opportunities in the U.S., Canada or Britain. Though the economy is viable, its heavy dependence on sugar, which provides 90% of the nation’s income, makes it dangerously vulnerable. The man who gets full responsibility for solving these problems when his official title switches from Premier to Prime Minister this week is Errol Barrow, 46, a stocky, brilliant Negro lawyer who looks and operates like an oldtime American ward boss.

Wind & Surf. Barrow is luckier than some of his West Indian neighbors in at least one respect: there is no hint of any interest in Communism among the Bajans, who are 98% literate and exhibit an easygoing gentility. Race relations are good, although the whites, who make up only 8% of the population, control most of the island’s wealth. Easternmost of the West Indies, Barbados is kept at a comfortable 70° to 85° year round by the trade winds, has fine beaches—with Atlantic surf on one side and the calm, clear Caribbean on the other. The island’s great hope is that these attractions will bring enough tourists to offset its dependence on sugar. The annual influx of tourists has risen from 25,000 in 1958 to 67,000, and is increasing by more than 15% a year.

Most of the newcomers are Americans. That seems only fitting, for the father of the U.S. gave Barbados an enthusiastic endorsement. In 1751—be fore he stopped liking things British—George Washington pronounced himself “perfectly ravished” by the island. It was the only place that he ever slept outside his homeland.