Remembering Emancipation Some light on Light by David Chanderbali Stabroek News July 30, 2000 One hundred and sixty-two years ago, on June 26, Lieutenant-Governor Henry Light landed in the then British Guiana with a directive from the British Government to see that a Bill was passed in the local legislature, immediately emancipating the field apprentices two years ahead of the date which had been set by Act of Parliament in 1834. Upon his arrival here the editor of the Royal Gazette observed: "Mr Light takes over the sway of a very important Province of the British Empire, at the most momentous period of her history, that ever did, or perhaps, ever will occur." Certainly, no colonial administrator ever commenced his period of office here during a more important crisis, while the whole colony was in ferment. The planters were resisting the inevitable, representing immediate Emancipation as the final assault upon their ownership of human "property," by whose labour all the industries of the colony had, up to that time, been kept going. They were anxious to retain their labourers, keep themselves in profitable business, avoid the possibility of reprisals from the workforce and ensure that Light would not govern in a way inimical to their commercial interests. If they failed in this, most of the planters expected nothing less than absolute ruin. On the opposite side, the slaves were expecting Governor Light to put the seal on Emancipation and usher in a new era when they would be free to work or not to work on the plantations, free to labour for wages, free to bargain for higher wage rates, free to build their own homes, and rid themselves of the manipulations of the plantocracy. In short, they would be able for the first time to take the destiny of their lives in their own hands. It was not as if the slaves had not themselves been struggling for freedom. Long before the Berbice Uprising in 1763 there had been open revolts whereby they had signalled their intentions, and these had continued after it had been put down. Fifteen years before Light's arrival, a massive revolt had broken out on the East Coast of Demerara - the Demerara Rising of 1823 - which had had an impact on the course of the emancipation movement in the metropolis itself. The last expression of resistance occurred in Essequibo in 1834, occasioned by the belief that the British Government had granted freedom but that the local Government was withholding it. In spite of Light's attempts to promote the public welfare in the interest of all competing forces, his opponents soon unleashed their hostility upon him, as he said, "at first mildly, later more virulently." His publicly ventilated views on emancipation did nothing to assuage the fears of the planters. To him, Emancipation was "wise, politic, necessary; it was imperative for the tranquility of the colony". He anticipated "brighter days" because he believed, "the Act of Emancipation would be the salvation of the Colony". Such opinions were anathema to the planters and they gave him no shriving time. It was: "For us or against us, without delay, or we will write you down and strain every nerve to ruin your reputation and to blast your prospects." Light's instruction from the Colonial Office was to bring to pass the full emancipation of the slaves on August 1, 1838. A motion to carry out the orders of the home Government had been already brought in the local legislature by a progressive planter, Michael McTurk, and the planters and proprietory body crowded round the new Governor to endeavour to convince him that the apprenticeship system might be upheld without departing from the spirit of the imperial orders in regard to Emancipation. They endeavoured to prove that the measure would be ruinous to them and dangerous to the peace and prosperity of the community. The planters' chief spokesman, Peter Rose, a wealthy planter and one of Light's most implacable opponents, spearheaded the attack on the Emancipation Bill in the Court of Policy, the local legislature in which the Government had a majority. He labelled it "illegal and unjust" arguing that "it at once deprives a large number of Her Majesty's [Queen Victoria's] subjects of the services of the praedial apprentices, which have been secured to them by Act of Parliament until the first of August 1840." On the latter claim Rose was right. By the terms of the Act of Abolition of 1834, the Colonial Office had indeed agreed to secure to the planters their field slaves until 1 August, 1840. Rose's eventual realization that it was futile to block the Emancipation Bill, persuaded him to try and prevail upon Light to agree to two demands instead. The first was a restriction aimed at anchoring the praedials on their respective plantations until 1 August, 1840, and the second was the payment of compensation from the colonial coffers for the two years by which the apprenticeship period was to be curtailed. He argued that to "legally deprive individuals of their property without providing due compensation" was an "invasion of private rights, and a breach of national faith." The compensation that Rose demanded was in addition to the 20 million pounds sterling voted by the British Government as special compensation for planters in the British West Indies for their loss of slave labour. To these demands, Light laconically responded: "Compensation hopeless, restriction impossible." Rose's reaction to the Bill was essentially an outburst of anger at the prospect of an imminent decrease in the supply of labour, a consequential drop in sugar production and, ultimately, possible ruin. Rose made it sound as if it was Light personally who was imposing an unacceptable measure on the planters. That did not seem to be the case. The Governor was only acting on instructions. Once the British Government had made up its mind, given its humanitarian mood and the pressure of public opinion, Light had no alternative but to uphold the original Bill, whatever his private opinion might have been regarding any impolicy. Had he agreed to modify the letter and the spirit of the Emancipation Bill, he would have been acting ultra vires and would have exposed himself to the censure of the Crown. In addition, he would have sacrificed the general interests of the Black community to party purposes and ephemeral popularity, and he would have extended the era of "the crouching slave and the imperious master." The planters' expectation that Light would include restrictions in the Emancipation Bill was a futile railing at a setting sun. On the question of additional compensation, the planters' argument was that they had undergone great expense to pay for their estates, to introduce some machinery and to erect dwellings for their labourers. Some had even converted a number of derelict cotton estates to sugar plantations. But if anyone truly deserved to be compensated, it was the black labourers and their children, and the disabled and the destitute who, after Emancipation, would be thrown upon whatever meagre resources they possessed. They were the ones whose labours had been coercively extracted from the time of their enslavement with little given in return. Had Light agreed to the planters' demand for compensation, it would have been met out of public revenue, which would have been tantamount to the slaves paying for their own freedom. Besides, such a measure would have been countermanded by the British Government. As irrational as Rose might have sounded, from the planters' point of view there was some kind of logic to it. The existing cane-crop was not due for reaping until early January, 1839, and in the likely event of a massive withdrawal of labour, the planters would suffer an immediate loss. The planters knew that Emancipation was due in 1840, and it appears that they had partially reconciled themselves to this later date as it gave them time to prepare. They were less disposed, however, to deal with the perceived consequences of Emancipation in 1838, thrust prematurely upon them. The planters' fear of ultimate ruin articulated by Rose was also understandable. It sprang from the apprehension that Emancipation would rob them of a labour supply so necessary for the maintenance of high-cost fixed capital and for the continuation of profitable production to meet those costs and recurrent expenditure. Full freedom would bring about a radical change in the financing of the plantations. Until Emancipation, the planters had been able to operate with comparatively little working capital. Emancipation meant paid labour and less profits, and it would deny the planters their coercive power over the labourers, instituting instead the freedom to bargain. Governor Light was neither moved nor intimidated by the planters' representations. By firmness and conciliation, the Act of unconditional Emancipation was carried and became law on August 1, 1838. The result of this was that during the rest of his two terms in British Guiana, until 1848, he had to face relentless opposition which made him, as he said, "the scapegoat on which to vent their [the planters'] ire." Follow the goings-on in Guyana in Guyana Today