Neville Cenac: The Man I Know

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]am Neville Cenac’s daughter. Because of it, I often choose to keep my own counsel, especially on State issues. On this occasion, I break my self-imposed rule. As Pastor Aristide said in his article published in this paper on 14 January, I must bear witness to the truth I know. Many my own age and younger, unless raised in overtly political households, do not know much of the 78-year-old man we call “Daddy,” “Papa,” “Papsy,” “Papalou”; the person most older Saint Lucians know as “Chandel Mol,” a name coined following a political speech when he said, “Saint Lucia has a stiff neck. It needs a soft candle, and I am that chandel mol.”

Even when the assault on his character is bitter and relentless, he is this family’s chandel mol, that soft but powerful balm and elixir that soothes the pain. Let me tell you a little more about the man who raised me. He is an extremely disciplined man; I have hardly ever seen him idling, even in his retirement. I am happy to paint a brief picture of his regimen. As a religious, spiritually-aware person, my father spends a long time every morning in contemplative prayer. Daddy, raised in a strict Catholic home, is always one to think for himself. When I could still count my age in single digits, he, under the study of a close relative, considered baptism into the Seventh Day Adventist Church. Of course, word on the street was that he was “looking for votes.” Meanwhile, at home, my father pored over books on theology, religious history and Catholic doctrine, most supplied, with Mom’s passionate encouragement, by family friend Miss Rosemary Cooper of Catholic Television Broadcasting Station. Upon a full and complete inquiry and careful study, my father reconciled himself to that which he, and we, accept as the Faith. You see, my dad approaches all important matters with, to quote George Odlum, a “flood of passion” but “studied grace.”

After morning prayer and grooming (yes, his wind-blown Afro is carefully coiffed), he busies himself with reading (or writing) for much of the day and well into the night, bent over the dining table. He takes brief breaks to perform his unique brand of exercise or otherwise, to help Mom with something in the kitchen. Yes, he’s a fine cook, especially of the local fare. His accra and stewed anything are something to shout about—in fact, my husband keeps clamouring for a Nev-Les cook-off. Daddy is game for it.

What of his temperament? My father is generous. He gives freely of all he has to offer, especially his time. Despite running an office, and later, a ministry, and being endlessly available to his constituents throughout the week, on weekends, during holidays, we, his children, never felt wanting for his attention.  He listened to our childhood babble with smiling delight, but, a stern look from those grey eyes was enough to bring us to Von Trapp-like rectitude. Daddy is the most affectionate of men, especially in speaking. Darling, sweetheart and the like nouns are never far from his lips – and he is not discriminating in his use – be you man, woman or child. The loving fatherly gaze and higher-toned inflections often reserved for children still find ready expression daily – so is his manner.

Our favourite thing as children was to clamber up onto his bed every morning to have him recount Aesop’s Fables or Shakespearean lines (in English and French) or to tell us stories of his childhood in Marchand, where he was home-schooled by his father until he was 9 because the family was too poor to afford to send him to School. He subsequently won a Vestry scholarship to attend St. Mary’s College. Upon graduating, Brother Ignatius’ reference letter stated that he was “pleasant and co-operative in manner and a very good student.” That good student went on to obtain his “A” levels in French Literature and the British Constitution, via correspondence.

But back to those childhood stories, they were often light-hearted and funny but never without a moral; often exhorting us to be hardworking, to be kind, charitable, to be good, to fear God, to have the courage of our convictions. We try, although we may inevitably stumble, to uphold these values.

Three of his children turned to the study of law—we were filled with a passion for the subject because of Daddy’s reverencing of it. He called us daily “to hear your voices” whilst we were in England studying; and took us through our paces on certain legal subjects. His own law studies were derailed when, foregoing his own ambitions, he returned home to offer his service in the post-1979 turmoil. For that I hear him called a “drop-out.” How could he not respond to the death throes of a party (yes, Labour) that he and Kenneth Foster, in apparently long forgotten years, had done so much to restore to vibrancy? And when his back was turned, his attention diverted, for the first time, to attend to himself, the Party stumbled and fell. The Labour base now wishes to deride him as a turban wearing clown who contributed naught. For shame! Disagree with his crossing if you must, but do not marginalise his contribution.

Interestingly, George Odlum, in an article published in the St. Lucia Labour Party’s 1974 Manifesto which I quoted from earlier, observed: “Many a Labour supporter has rushed to the Castries market steps to listen to the somewhat unique performance of young Neville Cenac. Flouting his flamboyance with a white towel turban or an outsize red cravat, the willowy Cenac can sting with waspish accuracy. He can cajole or flatter with a Creole turn of phrase that would warm the cockles of our grandmother’s heart. This art of vivid bilingual speechmaking springs not from any natural cunning of the Cenac tongue. It springs from a studied grace, a carefully organised mind . . . Neville Cenac is almost completely identified with the Labour movement during the past decade. He kept the light of the Labour star flickering when the fortunes of the party were at its lowest ebb. He charmed the Labour followers and kept their hopes alive with his peculiar blend of comedy and high seriousness . . .”

Well-known for his oratory, few would know that young Neville struggled with a speech impediment. He could not properly pronounce the letter “r.” With patient practice or practised patience, he, by First Form, perfected, and delivered to himself that most reticent letter. Mom would often proudly remark that, by virtue of his eloquence, many a world leader would reclaim his seat when Daddy began speaking at the U.N. On account of their listening, Saint Lucia benefitted in more ways than one.

And what, more precisely, of his work? My father worked for eleven years as a civil servant; first, at the Audit. He was then quickly promoted to Customs as a Class II Clerk. The Audit subsequently requested his return to that department, where he was again promoted, serving as a Class I Clerk. As a gentleman on “Street Vibes” remarked, Daddy became a paymaster at the Treasury; and then, a Class I Clerk at the Registry of the High Court. In each department, those who have worked with him can attest to the significant contribution that he made. Notably, at the tender age of 21, and for six years thereafter, he held the post of General Secretary of the Civil Service Association, in the company of Dr. Graham Louisy, Fitzgerald

Louisy, Cornelius Lubin and Leonard Augier; President, 1st Vice President, Treasurer and Heads of Department Representative, respectively. He also served as Director of St. Lucia Electricity Services, Manager of Radio St. Lucia and Secretary of the Supervisory Committee of the Civil Service Credit Union from its inception. Few would know that my father, who loves languages, was, together with others like Madam Le Jeune and the Laurent sisters, instrumental in establishing Alliance Française in Saint Lucia.

And what of his politics? As was mentioned during the Installation Ceremony, Daddy was Mayor of the City of Castries, General Secretary of the St. Lucia Labour Party, Leader of the Opposition (SLP), Chairman of the Public Accounts Committee, Minister for Foreign Affairs and President of the Senate. I am especially proud to observe, that he chaired the Public Accounts Committee of the House of Assembly during his tenure as Leader of the Opposition. It is because of my father’s disciplined study of all facets of parliamentary democracy that he ensured, as Leader of the Opposition, that an important committee of the House, that is, the Public Accounts Committee, was put to work. I am not aware of any parliamentarian or leader, other than my father, to have done so.

I would have liked to highlight his contributions in each of the positions he held but that would cause me to too far exceed my word count, as I have already. So, I’ll leave it there for now.

And what of the notorious floor crossing? My father explained, in brief, the circumstances leading to his change of association, in a 2013 article in this paper, entitled, “He Who is Double-Crossed Crosses”, (a prelude to his book, the publication of which has been deferred). I do not need to revisit his reasons here. But, as there is a tendency to persist in conveying the notion that all my father ever did was become, by pure happenstance, the Leader of the Labour Party and then cross the floor in an ultimate act of betrayal, I must reiterate Odlum’s words quoted above which go a small way to dispelling that perception, for, he “kept the light of the Labour Star flickering when the fortunes of the party were at its lowest ebb.” After giving so much, would he lightly turn his back to it?

I spoke earlier about my father’s generosity. His history in the political parties with which he has been associated, namely, the St. Lucia Labour Party, the United Workers Party and St. Lucia Labour Action Movement (which he co-founded with George Odlum, Julian R  Hunte and others) is a tribute to that generosity, as he worked tirelessly for these parties in the interests of the people he sought to represent; never pressing, tussling, jostling, or manoeuvring for position; often working hardest and best, to facilitate another’s leadership.

The circumstances leading to his floor crossing bears witness to that fact. In 1982, my father became the Leader of the Opposition, as the holder of one of two SLP seats. Despite indications to the contrary, he was in fact made political leader of that party at the 1982 Convention in Laborie and was re-elected as political leader in 1983 at a Convention in Vieux Fort. At that time, as it was from 1951, the Rules of the St. Lucia Labour Party provided that, “A political leader who loses his seat after an election shall automatically resign in order to allow a political
leader to be selected from among the winning candidates.” My father engaged the party processes to change these Rules to allow “any member of the party” to become the political leader. He then stood down as political leader and nominated Julian R Hunte, who assumed the leadership. By his magnanimity, therefore, he opened the way for Mr. Hunte (now Sir Julian Hunte), and subsequently, our former Prime Minister Dr. Kenny Anthony, to assume the political leadership of the Party, without having first won a seat.

In September 2016, while attending the OECS Bar Association’s conference, I approached Mr. Velon John to extend greetings. For those who do not know, in the 1992 elections, Mr. John ran for Labour against my father in Laborie, and won. He, upon realising that I was “Neville’s daughter,” said, which I do not think he would mind me repeating, “Your father was a politician par excellence. The people loved him. If he had not stopped coming to Laborie in the two years after he crossed the floor he would have won.” That is perhaps not far-fetched, for the statistics show that my father (despite his crossing) performed better than other UWP candidates who have run the Laborie seat.

As Prime Minister Chastanet observed, my father had the “courage of his convictions” in exercising his constitutional right and freedom to associate, that courage, unpopular though it made him in some quarters (smaller than we think, despite the “noise”) is something to be encouraged not scoffed at – it’s an example for every generation. To those who claim that he is partisan and would lack the objectivity and impartiality required for the office of Governor-General I would say simply, rethink his history, and acknowledge the inherent contradiction embodied in that notion. One should also pay heed to his inaugural address.