File
Residents of Trench Town queue up for the polls in the 1972 General Election. The community is part of the garrison-type constituency of South St. Andrew.

Daraine Luton and Sajoune Rose, Sunday Gleaner Writers

IT IS either you vote for Tom or vote for Tom; otherwise, cast your ballot at your own risk.

This is the reality of garrison politics in Jamaica, and the message communicated to constituents mainly through intimidation.

A situation that dates back to the late 1970s and continues to live in 21st-century Jamaica, garrison politics is characterised by one-sided voting patterns in consti-tuencies, where there is crime, violence, 'donmanship' and very few civic amenities. However, people in these areas are like horses with blinkers - they vote for the same party every time.

Steve, 27, was perhaps not born when garrison politics started. He, however, grew up alongside the phenomenon almost as brothers, and even today has refused to get separated. For, he is from a People's National Party (PNP) area, and he tells The Sunday Gleaner that his political behaviour has been influenced by his early upbringing in the Corporate Area constituency where he still lives.

"Wi a walk wid di system from before wi caan vote," Steve tells The Sunday Gleaner about his association with politics.

Illegal practice

In 2002, when he first went to the polls as a voter, Steve says he cast several ballots for the candidate of his choice, who won the seat by a landslide. He says he was not alone in doing the illegal practice of voting more than once. "Wi just vote fi di people dem," he says.

When asked how he managed to do this in the presence of the poll clerk and the indoor agent representing the opposing candidate, Steve says, "Everybody know seh a suh di system set."

Leroy, as Steve, lives in a garrison constituency. His, however, is Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) town. "Mi born come see it (garrison politics) suh and bus it up (shoot up) fi it (politics), suh a just suh it guh," Leroy says.

He is a taxi driver, who claims to have retired from politics because it has done nothing for him. "A nuff ballot box wi stuff and gun wi bus and mi nuh see weh mi get out a it," he says, adding that he regrets every moment of it.

"Di reality is dat nuh politician nuh really check fi wi. Dem just get di vote and disappear. If another man waan fight politics fi dem, him can gwaan but mi dun wid it, not even vote mi nah vote," he tells The Sunday Gleaner.

When former United States president Jimmy Carter acted as an observer in the 1997 general election, he pointed to that "one unique and most disturbing feature of Jamaican politics is the number of 'garrison' communities, mostly in the urban area of Kingston, each of which is totally dominated by one of the two major political parties. Within them, opponents enter only at the risk of being attacked".

Justice James Kerr, who headed the committee that in 1997 produced the National Committee on Political Tribalism report, noted that one way in which garrisons were created was by the development of large-scale housing schemes by the state and the location of the houses therein to supporters of the party in power.

Tivoli Gardens in West Kingston, Majesty Gardens and Payne Land in South West St. Andrew, and Arnett Gardens in South St. Andrew are examples of such communities set up in garrison constituencies.

Prime Minister Portia Simpson Miller, for example, is Member of Parliament for one such garrison constituency - South West St. Andrew - one of the strongest PNP seats on the island.

In the last election, she received 17,192 votes while Tom Tavares-Finson, who represented the JLP, polled 4,524. An inexplicable 105 per cent of registered voters went to the polls then.

Waning confidence

People such as Steve determined those results and continue to do so

These days, however, Steve is not happy with the way his political representative has treated his community. He says that after years of being in power, residents continue to be neglected. He has boycotted political rallies this time around, but says there is no chance of him abstaining or switching his allegiance.

"Is straight red and orange thing wi inna. We nah switch, a suh di thing set up," Steve tells The Sunday Gleaner.

However, it is this diehard culture that reinforces garrison politics and remains as President Carter said, "a threat to democracy."

Meet Lisa. She should be excited to vote. She has finally reached voting age and is a registered voter. Sadly, however, she is not looking forward to hearing the news that many are eagerly waiting for. She is fearful. She wants to exercise her constitutional right, but she cannot vote the way she wants to.

"Me a go vote fi dem (the party she does not favour), cuz mi no want no problem," said Lisa, a 21-year-old university student who resides in a PNP stronghold in St. Catherine. "It is either you vote or don't vote, and to be on the safe side, I will vote how dem want me fi vote."

Weighing her options carefully, Lisa notes that "I might just go there (polling station) and spoil the ballot by putting a tick weh the 'x' fi go."

Vote will be protected

Lisahas memories of the last two elections. She remembers hearing loud pounding on a neighbour's door on the morning of voting in the 2002 election. This apparently was one of the house-to-house calls from persons who are charged with the responsibility of getting persons out to the polling stations. However, for persons like her, there is assurance that her vote will be protected.

"They should know that their vote is secret and every person should come out and vote for the candidate of their choice," says Danville Walker, director of elections.

Walker says that if fear will determine whom one votes for in an election, then he would advise that such persons do not vote.

And for those who do not vote, the new electronic voter identification system, which will be used in many constituencies, makes it impossible for someone else to vote in your name, thereby ensuring one man, one vote, same man, same vote.

Names changed to protect identity.