The Tribune

By SIMON

ON 9 July 1973, six and a half years after the Second Emancipation of majority rule, a jubilant crowd of approximately 50,000 descended on Clifford Park to usher in and to celebrate the first light of dawn of a new Bahamas on 10 July 1973.

There was a stillness in the air and in the hushed crowd as the Union Jack was lowered. When the new tri-coloured Bahamian standard finally climbed the flagstaff, the citizens of the new country roared with exuberance and expectation.

Expectations of: hope, prosperity, a fairer land, of a successful predominantly black country possibly destined and certainly reaching for first world status.

Already, the government-operated school system was making the promise of universal education a reality. There was a rising black middle class. The colony was receiving generally good international press.

At Clifford Park, there were the expectations of a 26-year-old woman, a teacher in a government-operated school and a mother of one, and her husband, a public officer.

There was anxiety about a small country now responsible for its defense and foreign relations. An economic recession was gripping the world. However, the anxiety was no match for the expectations and hopes of the citizens of the new Commonwealth.

A boy of nearly 10, also on the Park with his mother, had spent weeks at school like thousands of other children, learning the new national anthem, part collective dream and part vision statement for Bahamaland:

“Lift up your head to the rising sun, Bahamaland, March on to glory, your bright banners waving high. See how the world marks the manner of your bearing;

 “Pledge to excel thro’ love and unity. Pressing onward, march together, to a common loftier goal. Steady sunward tho’ the weather hide the wide and treacherous shoal.”

The founders and champions of the freedom movement who ushered in majority rule and liberated Bahamians, white and black, dreamed of a multiracial society committed to racial and social equality. They also had a vision of a successful mixed-economy and stable two-party parliamentary democracy.

Though the freedom movement was already split politically, which proved a healthy occurrence for the developing democracy, its leaders shared an ideological consensus and the dream of moving “steady sunward”.

There was the expectation that we would build one of the more successful predominantly black countries in the world, an example to a global community that we believed would mark the manner of our bearing.

Fifty-plus three years hence, independence, “the rising sun” of our dreams is dissipating, faltering. We are staggering toward a setting sun of dwindling expectations.

In the minds of many Bahamians, there was something about The Bahamas as a small independent state blessed with certain geographical advantages, strategically located in the Americas and along well-located sea lanes and air routes.

Though we still enjoy these geographical advantages and have achieved much since 1973, we have tragically squandered extraordinary dreams in the past five decades. We have often shackled native creativity and talent. State corruption has robbed the country of myriad economic and social opportunities.

We have lost our way in so many ways. We expect and accept substandard service.

The value of civility has atrophied dramatically. We have become crude and crass in terms of basic social mores and public conduct which are on display in our driving habits.

While quite a number of the motorists at New Providence are considerate, a large number treat the roadways and parking spaces as their personal space, self-absorbed and indifferent to the needs of fellow motorists.

Why do we observe some civilities, norms and mores while ignoring others? The proximate answer has to do with what is tolerated. Translated into Bahamian: We like it so. Many of us are comfortable with low and poor standards.

We do not have the resources to be first world in terms of certain facilities and advantages. But we can achieve first world standards in certain areas and with certain attitudes.

We have made progress in education. Still, many of our children in the government-operated school system leave high school barely literate and numerate. This bleak state of affairs does not outrage scores of parents.

The majority of young people on New Providence and throughout The Bahamas, are law-abiding citizens, who share essential positive values and social mores. However, there is a large cohort of what sociologist Orland Patterson describes as “disconnected youth”.

Most of these youth do poorly in school and are chronically unemployed. The staggeringly high rate of youth unemployment is having a toxic effect on our social landscape.

The chronic unemployment of approximately a quarter of young Bahamians is an economic and social emergency with far-reaching ramifications.

Thousands of young people wake up every morning with no work, no job prospects, with nothing to do. And they do so day after day and year after year. What is the impact of such an existence on individuals and on society?

There are many thousands of disaffected youth who have not been sufficiently reared with certain positive values and mores, and who are in basic survival mode and feel cut off from society and improved life prospects.

With current and future prospects seemingly bleak, is it any wonder that many disaffected youth live for the day and have little interest in disciplined effort, restraint from violent conflict, and self-control.

Sadly, today, few Bahamians still believe the dream of becoming first world in terms of certain standards and practices. We have settled into an acceptance of poorer standards for our country. We accept our public spaces looking tacky and run-down and often filthy.

The new Bahamian reality that we have accepted is that of high crime, low public standards, high unemployment, mass incivility, acceptance of political corruption.

We are in a downward spiral: The Family Islands, New Providence and Grand Bahama are in desperate straits on so many fronts.

The irony is that while many high net worth individuals from abroad are buying luxury properties in the country, The Bahamas middle class may be shrinking, unable to afford a basic Bahamian dream in terms of housing, education for their children, adequate health care, and other social goods.

We are a shadow of what we could have been or could be. The flight of talent and of enterprising Bahamians is worsening, along with the flight of those who feel hopeless about the country’s medium to long-term prospects.

Meanwhile, much of the country’s elite are even more disconnected from the reality of an ever growing number of poorer Bahamians. Bahamians know that it will take more than political leaders to move the country in a better direction. Still, such leadership is essential.

Unfortunately, there is a widespread sense that many political leaders lack empathy and have become callous as they aggrandize themselves with power and the spoils of office.

It would be overly simplistic to mostly blame our leaders for the civic decline we are experiencing, though the generally poor quality of many of our leaders does not augur well for helping to arrest the social decay.

We are collectively responsible for the culture of decay into which we have settled. There are some flickers of hope. Nevertheless, we need to nurture even greater hope amidst the national decline which needs not be inexorable.