It was ten years ago to the decade this happened. We had done what we wanted to do on the Zambian side—dog-paddled from Livingstone Island across the Zambezi River blissfully oblivious of crocs and hippos, summoned up the courage to take the big leap down into the deep but small Devil’s Pool on the precipice, inches away from an unthinkable 208 metre drop to the rock-strewn bottom of the great falls. We had seen what we wanted to see on the Zambian side—the best viewing points to survey the majestic Mosi-oa-Tunya from; the statue of explorer/evangelist Davie Livingstone. Now, having wrestled with our ethical demons and overcome them, we decided to buy a day tripper visa and cross the bridge into Zimbabwe, swayed by the lure of it supposedly having superior vantage points for seeing Vic Falls.
(Photo: www.victoriafalls.net)
As we approached the checkpoint at the Zambian end we skirted round an African kid waving copper bracelets in our face (copper bracelets are one of the few items dirt-poor Zambian youngsters have to barter in exchange for South African rands). After completing the immigration stuff we didn’t dilly-dally around at the check-point, I had read that the local troop of baboons here could be quite aggressive with tourists (just before we came to Zambia 🇿🇲 I had read that one unfortunate tourist had fallen over the falls to his doom trying to avoid the pressing attentions of a baboon who had taken a fixedly determined interest in the bright orange bag he was carrying).
(Map: Lonely Planet)
We tip-toed very cautiously onto the bridge, avoiding eye-contact with the bulky and menacing guard on border duty brandishing an AK-47, save for a single furtive glance in his direction to catch his cold, expressionless countenance. There was none or minimal passing foot traffic as we did the 1.8km bridge trek into the Zimbabwe tourist township. This bridge apparently is famous for being the site of a formal “pow-wow” between the white UDI regime representatives and Mugabe’s ZANU-PF rebels which signalled the end of the long Rhodesian Bush War (I could be wrong about this as it might be the other one, the nearby railway bridge, where the icing was put on the cake of peace?)
Not long after passing the customs point, having got a set of fresh new Zimbabwe stamps in our passport, we encountering our first Zim local keen to barter with the tourists. We managed to out-walk most of these but finally we relented and stopped for one particularly persistent guy who just wouldn’t take ‘NO!’ for an answer. As it turned out this Zim street trader did have something we were interested in – some Zimbabwe 🇿🇼 bank notes. These were not any old legal tender that you might get back in change at the nearby Victoria Falls Town shops when you buy some souvenirs of Zimbabwe, these were examples of the fiat currency that the Mugabe regime was infamous for!
So, after a very short bargaining session, in exchange for a handful of wrinkled RSA rand notes✳, we walked away with three crisp, new looking Zimbabwe bank notes. They were, respectively, a Z$20 billion note, (which we discovered was merely petty cash compared to) a Z$50 trillion note and, la crème de la crèam, a mind-boggling fresh, ‘new’ Z$100 trillion note! Talk about collectors’ items! When I enquired of the street trader what exactly could I buy with the Z$100 trillion note, he produced his default smile and replied, “one loaf of bread”! But I can happily report that on checking later I discovered he was wrong…for the Z100Trn note I could get three loaves of bread – at least…and probably a few buns thrown in as well!
Yes, I had heard about Zimbabwe’s notorious mega-inflation. Back in high school history classes I had learnt about the troubled Weimar Republic in the 1920s and it’s crazy, runaway hyperinflation which led to workers being paid every day, twice a day (morning and afternoon) and having to cart away their ‘soft’ mark currency notes in wheelbarrows! But I didn’t appreciate the full dimensions of Zimbabwe’s economic calamity until I came here. In 2008 the country’s insouciant and haphazard economic mismanagement had resulted in a tsunami of hyper-inflationary escalation which peaked at a staggering 231 Million percent. At its year’s worse, prices were doubling every 24 hours [‘Where is the next Fiat Currency Revaluation?’, (Andrew Henderson), Nomad Capitalist, Upd. 28-Dec-2019, www.nomadcapitalist.com]. A worthless, disposal nappy of a currency. Zimbabwe – welcome to the world of the “starving billionaires” as the Zimbabwe cynic (ie, realist) would put it!
As well as adding naughts to the money denominations at an alarming rate of knots, Zimbabwe in a currency-printing frenzy went paper money crazy – they started issuing notes for all the coin denominations too. At one point they even had a one cent note! In the hyper-inflationary swampland that is Zimbabwe, imagine the lunacy of printing a 1₵ note! Then again, perhaps we are underestimating the government’s capacity for irony…or maybe it was an artistic statement, theatre of the absurd, surreal farce, that sort of thing!
Within two years the out-of-control inflation reached even more embarrassing stratospheric heights – 89.7 sextillion percent. Finally the Zimbabwe government arrived at a solution of sorts, it jettisoned the worthless local dollar currency for the US dollar. It began trading principally in US$ and South African rands (today the country accepts up to eight other foreign currencies as legal tender—including the Botswana pula—in place of the valueless Zim $).
Sadly, the economic situation in Zimbabwe today is not much better. In 2019 the economy took another sharp downturn and hyperinflation rose again like an exploding thermometer…at this point Zimstat (the Zimbabwe stats office) stopping releasing inflation data (in a desperate attempt to cover the government’s own scandalous ineptitude). However the IMF put the level of Zimbabwe inflation in August 2019 at 300 per cent. Bread was now something like US$10 a loaf. The annual inflation rate as at December 2019 was sitting around 521 percent! Venezuela could happily reclaim second place in the world’s worst stakes [‘IMF: Zimbabwe has the highest inflation rate in the world’, (29-Sep-2019), www.zimbabwesituation.com; ‘Zimbabwe Inflation Rate’, www.tradingeconomics.com].
Footnote:Trillions, Quadrillions, Sextillions, Septillions, Octillions, etc.—ultimately it’s a numbers game of theoretical interest only
The dubious honour for having printed the world’s highest numerical value banknotegoes to postwar Hungary – 1 sextillion pengö back in 1946. Zimbabwean financial control suddenly doesn’t look quite so bad!
𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠𝕠
✳ and my wife’s plastic tube of hand-sanitiser gel, which the guy’s infant kid had taken a fancy to
Many observers of the abject collapse of the West Indies Federation (WIF) in 1962, looking to particularise the reasons for it (and viewing it from outside Jamaica), tend to point the finger squarely at that largest of British Caribbean islands and more precisely at the role of the powerhouse politician of Jamaica, Norman Manley.
Manley as chief minister of the colony of Jamaica and founder of the Jamaican People’s National Party (PNP) at the onset of the Caribbean Federation was in a position to exert a centrally prominent role and even a guiding influence over the shaping of the new multi-island federation. Manley however chose not to put himself forward as candidate for the WIF’s prime ministership✲, or even to stand for election to the new parliament as an MP. And given that Manley was revered within Jamaica as a national hero/father figure, his non-participation in the fledgling WIF, certainly would have dissuaded other Jamaicans from embracing the cause of union [Kwame Nantambu, ‘W. I. Federation: Failure From the Start’, (art. updated 26-Oct-2014), www.tricenter.com].
⇣ Norman Washington Manley
Federalism as an essential stage to independence
Manley’s backing off from active involvement in the WIF at its formative stage was not an indication per se of his opposition to federation in the Caribbean. Manley had long advocated his support for federalism – but for him (as for others) it was a necessary stage on the road to achieving national independence for Jamaica. As he unequivocally stated in 1947: “I cannot imagine what we should be federating about if it is not to achieve the beginning of nationhood” [‘Jamaica’s Brexit: Remembering the West Indies Federation’, (Stephen Vasciannie), Jamaica Observer, 25-Jun-2016, www.jamaicaobserver.com].
Two unit ten-pins fall and the Federation splinters
Jamaica’s and Manley’s disaffection with the Federation, and with the perceived direction it was heading in, did not abate over the next two years. In 1961, under pressure from the opposition Jamaican Labour Party (JLP) Manley put the issue to a referendum of the Jamaican people. The wily JLP opposition leader Alexander Bustamante managed to persuade some of the constituents that the referendum was a choice between federalism with independence and independence for Jamaica. The vote came down 54.1% to 45.9% in favour of exiting the WIF (only just over 60% of eligible Jamaican voters cast a ballot)…Bustamante’s reward for publicly taking a consistent line against federation was his election in 1962 as the first prime minister of an independent Jamaica [ibid.].
⇡ Eric Williams, 1st PM of independent Trinidad & Tobago
Jamaica’s departure from the WIF was a crippling blow to it, but it was Trinidad and Tobago which applied the coup de grace. Trinidad’s leader, Eric Williams, responding to Jamaica’s exit with his famous aphorism “one from ten equals nought!”, followed suit, withdrawing Trinidad and Tobago from the Federation as well. Without the two most economically advanced islands the WIF was simply not viable and the Federation collapsed abruptly in January 1962.
Jamaica was the linchpin that determined the fate of the WIF but there was more behind its eventual opt-out than simply the political jockeying of rivals Manley and Bustamante for power…there were a complicated set of considerations for Jamaica in appraising it’s role in the Federation.
The ‘exceptionalism’ of Jamaica and Trinidad within the island-countries of the West Indies
In the late 1950s nearly all the West Indian islands making up the WIF were poor, beset by unemployment and woefully lacking in development. Jamaica and Trinidad however were the economic exceptions. With the advantage of comparatively larger land masses and significantly larger populations, both colonies were able to attract foreign capital and establish export markets (Jamaica with its discovery and production of bauxite, and Trinidad with its oil). Their spurts in economic growth set them apart from the other eight territorial units of the WIF. This stark disparity in resources and economic progress would work against the Federation’s efforts to unify it’s members [‘Norman Manley and the West Indies Federation’, part two (the referendum) (David Tenner) (Narkive Newsgroup Archive, 2004), www.soc.history.what-if.narkive.com]. The differing levels of development across the southern Caribbean archipelago was a handicap to the objection of integrating the parts of the Federation❂.
“Two rival conceptions”: Trinidadian centralism v Jamaican localism
Over the course of its existence two competing views of the WIF’s raison d’être took centre stage – succinctly encapsulated by one of the antagonists (Eric Williams) himself: Federation as a “weak, central government” (Jamaica) and Federation as a “strong, Central power” (Trinidad) [Vasciannie, op.cit.]. Williams and T & T also harboured fears and misgivings about the direction the WIF was heading (though Jamaica’s and Manley’s misgivings were more demonstrative). At the heart of Jamaica’s position was that no “extraordinary powers” granted the Federation should encroach on its national sovereignty. Being more wealthier than the others Jamaica was particularly concerned with the scope and application of federal taxes…Manley believed that they would inevitably rise and therefore hit Jamaica the hardest.
Jamaica’s antipathy to the WIF centralist model drew criticism from the other member-states…Albert Gomes, first chief minister of Trinidad and Tobago accused Jamaican politicians of a power-grab, manipulating the Federation, making regular demands with the purpose of supplanting “Whitehall with Kingston✥” [Nantambu, loc.cit.].
All of the eastern Caribbean islands advocated a strong role for the central authority, but T & T chief minister Williams was the WIF’s strongest voice. Seeking dominion status for the British Caribbean islands Williams in 1956 laid out the predicament for its small countries: “The units of government are getting larger and larger…federation is inescapable if the British Caribbean territories are to cease to parade themselves to the twentieth-century world as eighteenth-century anachronisms” [Vasciannie, op.cit.]. This echoed the UK’s position at the time of the 1947 Montego Bay Conference: union was the only way the “small and isolated, separate communities could achieve and maintain full self-government” [Narkine, loc.cit.].
⇡ Kingston 🇯🇲 (1960s)
The eastern Caribbean islands’ push to make WIF more centralised kept tensions between it and Jamaica at a high point. The centralisation issue was at its most polemical on the question of the Federation’s tax provisions. PM Adams tried to run the line that federal taxing power could be applied retrospectively, much to the consternation of the Jamaicans⌖. In fact the scope of federal authority was intended to be quite limited (eg, allocating grants under the Colonial Development and Welfare Acts, assisting the University College of the West Indies)⍟. The bulk of government functions were allocated to the territorial units [Vasciannie, op.cit.].
The internal migration issue
Another revenue worry of Jamaica’s was the Federation’s call for a customs union and freedom of movement between the member islands…some of the poorer islands tended to be overpopulated (eg, Grenada, St Kitts), so Jamaica already with population pressures and wanted to avoid the possibility of it’s island becoming a “dumping ground” for other islands’ unemployed surplus – with a resultant diminution of Jamaican quality of life [Nantambu, loc.cit.]. The T& T government was similarly concerned about the danger of it’s territory’s labour market being flooded by internal migrants. Conversely, the other economically less advanced units like Barbados (with higher employment) welcomed the free movement of labour across the various units [Vasciannie, op.cit.].
Jamaica – the West Indies ‘outlier’
Another factor in Jamaica’s failure to embrace federalism in 1958 was geography. The island’s location in the west of the Caribbean put it a long distance from the other British colonies all in the east. This sense of isolation and removal from Federal power was compounded by the WIF capital being located not in Jamaica but in Trinidad.
When individual independence did come to the West Indian islands, some like the Turks and Caicos opted to remain a British overseas territorial dependency ⇣
Geography and nationalism
This “tyranny of distance” played a role in undermining WI federalism in a general way which affected more than just Jamaica. The spread-out nature of the British group of Caribbean colonies made for difficulties of inter-island communication…before Federation West Indians didn’t have much contact with peoples from other islands. Antiguans and Dominicans and St Lucians, etc, tended to identify with their own islands rather than with the Caribbean as a whole□, this bred insularity in mindsets. Home island identity was what informed their nationalistic feeling. The populations thus never arrived at a sense of ‘oneness’ about the Anglophone Caribbean◙. Consequently, the essential prerequisite for unifying the Federation, a “substantial groundswell of popular support”, failed to materialise [ibid.].
The triumph of parochialism – self-interest rules OK!
Ultimately, this inherent disunity sowed the seeds of the Federation’s dissolution. Once it was established, no one wanted to really get behind the new structure, one’s own vested interests was paramount to most island politicians. Those who held a post in unit territorial politics at the time of Federation were faced with making a choice between seeking office in the federal parliament or retaining what they had at island level – and particularly if they were a minister in their island government, this was a lot to risk losing (Manley for instance stayed put, in part at least, because he didn’t want to afford any opportunities to the JLP under Bustamante to regain the ascendency on the island and wrest control of Jamaican politics from his party) [Coore, D. (1999). THE ROLE OF THE INTERNAL DYNAMICS OF JAMAICAN POLITICS ON THE COLLAPSE OF THE FEDERATION. Social and Economic Studies,48(4), 65-82. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/27865166 ; Nantambu, loc.cit.].
⇡ WIF crest – motto refuted: a federation without unity
This duality in Caribbean politics extended to the structures of public administration. When the policy-makers formulated the new Federation constitution, the old individual constitutions of the colonies were retained in a parallel arrangement… the new federalconstitutionwas simply “fastened on tothe variousexisting structures of government territorial units” [CB Bourne, ‘The Federation of the West Indies’, University of Toronto Law Journal, Vol. XIII, No 2, 1960]. Another fundamental problem for the territorial units was that, as British colonies, they held only limited legislative power under the Federation.
Shortcomings of leadership
The WIF’s central government has been described as virtually powerless and its leadership ‘timid’ [Cynthia Barrow-Giles, Introduction to Caribbean Politics ((2002)]. Infighting between island leaders (eg, Williams v Manley) was constant…the nearly four years of the Federation’s life was characterised by seemingly endless discussions of what it should be about, include, etc. (Federation premier Adams likened the task of governing to trying to build a house on shifting sand) [Hugh Wooding, ‘The Failure of the West Indies Federation’, Melbourne University Law Review, July 1966 (Vol.5), www.austlil.edu.au].
PostScript:Successor organisations to the WIF
The moribund West Indies Federation was eventually replaced initially by the Caribbean Free Trade Association (Carifta) in the Sixties which in turn was succeeded by the Caribbean Commission – known as CARICOM, founded in 1973. CARICOM was established to achieve economic integration in the region, operate a (CARICOM) single market, undertake special projects in the less developed countries, handle regional trade disputes, etc. It has 15 full and associate members including countries in Central and South America.
⇡ Grantley Adams of Barbados (Federation PM)
••➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖•➖••
✲ the vacuum left by Manley was filled by Barbados chief minister Grantley Adams who was selected the Federation’s inaugural PM…with no consensus between the Federation’s different units, the task was a Herculean one in any light, however Adams lacked the stature and clout of Manley and was largely ineffectual in heading the WIF
❂ a frequent criticism of Manley concerned the WIF’s perceived power imbalance resulting in the “85%” (Jamaica and T & T) being dominated by the “15%” (the remainder of the territorial units). Manley was unhappy with the Federal arrangements, believing that the voting powers, the parliamentary representation and the cabinet membership did not reflect Jamaica’s larger population and economic standing [Vasciannie, op.cit.]
✥ the Jamaican capital
⌖ the constitution actually prevented WIF from imposing direct taxes on members for a period of five years
⍟ expanding tertiary education in the Caribbean by opening a second campus of the University College of the West Indies at St Augustine, Trinidad and Tobago
□ trade between the islands had been sporadic [Nantambu, loc.cit.]
◙ only in one arena, on the sporting field, has this sense of ‘oneness’ ever shone through…the West Indies cricket team (and community), dominant in world cricket during the Seventies and Eighties, has been able to unify cohesively and successfully as a constructed ‘national’ identity
The 1950s was a fashionable period for forming international federations in different parts of the globe. Nineteen Fifty-Eight saw the creation of two competing federations of national groupings in the Middle East (both short-lived unions), see my previous blog post (March 2019), Competing Strands of Arab Unity During the Cold War: UAR and the Arab Federation. The British West Indies Federation (BWIF), also coming into being in 1958, was another ephemeral, unsuccessful but very different effort at a regional confederation.
An idea with a long shelf-life
The germ of the idea of a federation of Caribbean islands is far from being a recent development, even in historical terms. Proposals and discussions about Britain’s Caribbean territories coming under collective control goes back as least as far as 1671 [Glassner, Martin Ira. “CARICOM AND THE FUTURE OF THE CARIBBEAN.” Publication Series (Conference of Latin Americanist Geographers), vol. 6, 1977, pp. 111–117. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/25765588].
In the 19th century there were various attempts at “governor-sharing” of different British West Indian possessions, eg, the Windward and Leeward Islands had a sort of federated arrangement from the 1870s to the 1950s✲. The Crown also appointed a governor to take joint control of Jamaica and British Honduras…the same thing happened at one point with Barbados and the Windwards. These constructed entities did not necessarily have satisfactory or happy outcomes, the last of these imposed ‘unions’ was followed by the Confederation Riots of 1876 in Barbados (a protest by local black labour against the sub-par wages paid by the white planter class) [Kwame Nantambu, ‘W. I. Federation: Failure From the Start’, (art. updated 26-Oct-2014), www.tricenter.com].
In the early 1930s a conference containing “liberal and radical politicians” from Trinidad, Barbados and the Leewards and the Windwards, meeting in Dominica, resolved that federation was the best way forward. Their proposals to the West Indies Closer Union Commissions were however rejected on the grounds that “public opinion was not yet ripe for federation” [Hughes, C. (1958). ‘Experiments Towards Closer Union in the British West Indies’. The Journal of Negro History,43(2), 85-104. doi:10.2307/2715591; Nantambu, loc.cit.].
Photo: Bustamante Industrial Trade Union (bitujamaica.org)
Agrarian class conflict: Quasi-slavery and organised labour militancy
In the 1930s a wave of grass-roots disturbances, riots and strikes, emanating from a burgeoning and increasingly militant labour movement, resonated throughout the Caribbean colonies. Britain, all-too-aware of the dangers of growing antipathy to its colonial rule, a scenario also playing out dramatically in British India at the time, put out ‘feelers’ to the West Indian political elites for their interest in a federation. A 1947 conference indicated that all of the colonies (with the exceptions of the Bahamas and the Virgin Islands) were in favour of a ‘loose’ association. The British government’s stated aim at this point was “the development of a federation which would help the colonies to achieve economic self-sufficiency, as well as international status as individual states” [ibid.].
Framework of the WI Federation
The UK parliament passed the British Caribbean Federation Act in 1956 (with the Federation to come into existence beginning of ’58). The framework of the West Indian Federation (originally named the Caribbean Federation) was to have an executive comprising a (British appointed) governor-general (Lord Hailes), a prime minister and cabinet. The parliament was a bi-cameral one and the federal constitution was based principally on the Australian model, allowing for a “very large measure of internal self-government” [Statement by the Earl of Perth (UK minister of state for colonial affairs), 29-Jul-1957 (WI Federation: Order in Council 1957), Hansard1803-2005, www.api.parliament.uk].Flag of the West Indies Federation
1958 Member states of BWIF:
Antigua and Barbuda, Barbados, Dominica, Grenada, Jamaica, Montserrat, St Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla, St Lucia, St Vincent, Trinidad and Tobago✥.
The ten constituent territories signing on to the Federation comprised a total geographical area of 20,239 km and a population of around 3.2 million.
A good theoretical idea?
On paper there was a lot to be gained from a confederation of regional islands in the Caribbean Sea✪ – seemingly for both the coloniser and the decolonised. From Britain’s position, there was the cost and efficiency angle. Federation of the parts supposed that Britain and Whitehall would deal with ONE political entity (the whole), rather than having to cope with eight to ten territories, thus also reducing costs for the parent government. A single central federation of many parts eliminated the need for duplication of services, thus it would result in more efficient economic and social planning [GANZERT, F. (1953). ‘British West Indian Federation’. World Affairs,116(4), 112-114. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/20668810].
For the BWIF government, more advantageous economies of scale could secure better prices for its peoples’ commodities. Enhanced prosperity of the country would serve to head-off social unrest within the island societies. Lastly, a single political entity could foster and facilitate the desired objective of democracy more smoothly [ibid.].
Approaching Federation: Confrontational rather than consensual
Unfortunately for the prospects of the Federation venture, multiple problems quickly surfaced, not least the difficulty of finding common areas of agreement among the member states, these factors beset BWIF even before the Federation came into existence. Deciding where to locate the new Federation capital itself proved problematic. Early on there was a move to make it Grenada (St George’s Town), but Jamaica and Barbados objected to awarding it to one of the smaller islands. Jamaica and Barbados also objected to Trinidad as the site but the island was chosen in preference to either of them. Even after that was determined, there was issues…the federal capital was intended to be Chaguaramas (Trinidad) but the snag here was its availability, part of Chaguaramas housed a US naval base. Ultimately, due to this complication, the Trinidad capital Port of Spain became the de facto BWIF capital [‘West Indies Federation’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].Red arrow = de jure federal capital || White arrow = de facto federal capital
Things didn’t improve after the Federation came into effect for a host of reasons – I will explore these factors in some detail in the second part of this blog topic: The West Indies Federation: A Failed Attempt at Forging a Dominion Within the British Commonwealth (Part 2).
Footnote: The Canada/BWIF relationship
From the early, nascent rumblings of a desire for self-government in the Caribbean, the Canadian Confederation was a model examined by pro-federation West Indians. Individual islands in the Caribbean had even speculated at different times on the merits of joining Canada as a province. At least twice during the 20th century the Canadian parliament considered legally annexing the Turks and Caicos Islands however this never eventuated [‘Turks and Caicos Islands’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. Aside from this particular colony, federation within Canada doesn’t seem to have been a serious proposition for either side …though relations between the Federation and Canada remained close [ibid.]. 🇨🇦
◥▅◢▅◣◥◤◢▅◣◥▅◤◢▅◣◥▅◤◥▅◤◥◤▅◤
✲ described by Hugh Springer as “weak and ineffectual” attempts at unifying the group of islands [Springer, H. (1962). Federation in the Caribbean: An Attempt that Failed. International Organization,16(4), 758-775. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/2705214]
✥ the UK mainland territories of British Guiana and British Honduras declined to join the Federation
✪ for a start the various scattered island entities shared a number of commonalities – a colonial history, the English language, a familiarity with British institutions, etc.
The northern coastline of suburban Sydney, with its abundance of picturesque beaches, is a magnet in summer for many visitors from far and near. One of the less frequented of the Northern Beaches, owing to its relative inaccessibility and lack of a rock pool✲, is Bungan Beach.
What drew me to Bungan this summer was not however the pristine waters of its uncrowded beach, but one particular unusual building standing out high up on Bungan Head…Bungan Castle, which this year celebrates 100 years since it was constructed.
Situated as one later observer noted “on a bold headland of the coast, about eighteen miles from Sydney” [1] (Newport, NSW), Bungan’s castle was built at the very pinnacle of a cliff-top by Gustav Adolph Wilhelm Albers, a German-born Australian artists’ agent. Today it is hemmed in and surrounded by a raft of modern, multi-million dollar mansions which share its unparalleled breathtaking views. But when Albers built “Bungan Castle” on what is now Bungan Head Road, the imposing high dwelling was surrounded only by bush and cleared scrub and completely neighbourless!✪
∆ [photo (ca.1928): National Library of Australia]
Albers in 1919 was considered something of a doyen of the Australian art community, he represented local artists like Sidney Long and JJ Hilder, and the castle (his abode at weekends and holidays❇) acted as a kind of 1920s arts hub, an unofficial Sydney artists’ colony. The leather-bound visitors’ book (still surviving) records the names of numerous artistic personalities of the early 20th century including the formidable and influential Norman Lindsay.
∆[photo: NSW Archives & Records]
Aside from creating a skyline haven for practitioners of the art community, the eccentricity of Albers’ personal taste in decor is worthy of elaboration: he furnished Bungan Castle with an idiosyncratic and vast array of collectibles, a number of which the art connoisseur acquired on his regular jaunts overseas✤. The castle interior was inundated with a phenomenal “hotch-potch” of antiquated weaponry – including Medieval armour, Saracen helmets, Viking shields, sword and daggers including a Malay kris, battle-axes, muskets, flint-lock guns, Zulu rifles; convicts’ leg-irons and Aboriginal breast-plates.
∆ [photo: Fairfax Archives]
In addition to the assortment of objects of a martial nature, there were numerous other oddities and curios, such as a big bell previously located at Wisemans Ferry and used to signal the carrying out of convict executions in colonial times; a human skull mounted above the hall door (washed up on Bungan Beach below the castle); a sea chest; a variety of ships’ lanterns; “tom-toms” (drums) and various items of taxidermy [2].
This home is a castle – a “Half-Monty” of a castle
From the road below, staring up at the tree-lined Bungan Castle, it does bear the countenance of something from a pre-modern time and not out of place in a rural British landscape. Constructed of rough-hewn stone (quarried from local (Pittwater) sandstone), it contains many of the castellated features associated with such a historic piece of architecture – towers and turrets, a donjon (keep), battlements, vaults, a great hall, a coat-of-arms, etc.
This said, Bungan Castle lacks other standard features – a drawbridge with a portcullis and a barbican ; visible gargoyles; and a moat (although Edinburgh Castle also lacks a moat, being built up high on bedrock it doesn’t require one for defensive purposes); and it is also bereft of a dungeon! And of course, most telling, parts of the southern and eastern facades are clearly more ‘home’ than castle! One could easily dismiss any claim to it being thought of as an authentic facsimile of the “real thing” (some early observers described it, erroneously, as a ‘Norman’ castle), but with a bit of licence we can reasonably ascribe the descriptor (small) ‘castle’ to Bungan, much as New Zealand tourism promotes the lauded Lanarch ‘Castle’ on the Otago Peninsula (also without many of those classic features).
A family concern
GAW Albers’ prominence in the Northern Beaches area and the talking point uniqueness of Bungan Castle led many locals to dub the Sydney art dealer “the Baron of Bungan Castle”. Albers died in 1959 but the ‘baronial’ castle has remained firmly in family hands. The current owners are Albers’ nephew John Webeck and his wife Pauline. John maintains the family’s artistic bent as well, having like Uncle William had a career as an art dealer.
Artists’ Mecca? museum? both?
Webeck has signalled that he would like to reprise the castle’s former mantle as an artists’ Mecca, but I can’t help feeling that with such a wealth of out-of-the-ordinary artifacts within its walls, that its future might be most apt as an historical museum. Such suggestions have been made in the past – the Avalon Beach Historical Society referred to Bungan Castle having been an “unofficial repository for many articles, (sufficient to deem it) Pittwater’s first museum”[3].
—⇴—⇴—⇴—⇴—⇴—⇹—⇹—-⇹—⇹—⇹—⇸—⇸—⇸—⇸—
✲ the close proximity of larger beaches with on-site car parks (absent from Bungan) – Newport, The Basin and Mona Vale – make them a more popular choice for beach-goers
✪ at the time there was only three other homes on the entire headland
❇ Albers’ principal family home was in Gordon, not far way on the North Shore of Sydney
✤ although the bulk of the castle’s collection were donated to Albers by others who thought it an appropriate home
[1] WEM Abbott, ‘Castle on a Cliff Edge’, The Scone Advocate, 25-Mar-1949, http://nla.gov.au.news-article162719685
[2] ‘Castle Turrets on Sydney’s Skyline’ (Nobody Wants them…Our Baronial Halls), The Sun (Sydney), 08-May-1927, http://nla.gov.au.news-article223623550. The author of this article goes on to lament the fact that Sydney’s castle homes had fallen out of fashion for the well-heeled “princes of commerce” in search of a suitable ancestoral mansion…in 1927 their preference was apparently for modern Californian villas with all the latest conveniences.
[3] ‘A Visit To Bungan Castle By ABHS’, Pittwater Online News, 14-20 Oct 2018, Issue 379, www.pittwatetonlinenew.com
The first Levittown housing development on a former potato farm on New York’s Long Island (1947-1951) was seen as a ‘godsend’ by GIs returning from the war. Two-bedroom homes in the suburbs at a cost of only $6,990 with a minimal amount of money down (zilch down if you were a GI), seemed an opportunity too good to miss. The only catch was you had to be White as well as a veteran to get one! William Levitt’s planned housing development was intended for Caucasians only, restrictive covenants were inserted into sales contracts barring African-American families from membership of these new, model suburban communities.
Building comfortable White enclaves?
With Black veterans of WWII turned away from Levittown, Bill Levitt was forced to defend his exclusivist policy. Despite avowing (rather hollowly) that “as a Jew, I have no room in my heart for racial prejudice”, Levitt sought to justify his position on the grounds that a White-only community was best for business. He argued that if he sold “to one Negro family, 90 to 95 per cent of White customers would not want to buy into the community”. Levitt was clearly not prepared to be an agent of social change if it meant a diminution of business profitability…self-interestedly and rather lamely he protested that it was unreasonable to saddle one builder with “the entire risk and burden of a vast social experiment” (even though the particular “one builder” in this case had been recognised by Time magazine as one of the 100 most influential people in America) [‘When the Niggers Moved into Levittown’: Review of David Kushner’s Levittown: Two Families, One Tycoon, and the Fight for Civil Rights in America’s Legendary Suburb, Journal of Blacks in Higher Education, 63 (Spring 2009): 80–81; Schuyler, D. (2003), ‘Reflections on Levittown at Fifty’, Pennsylvania History: A Journal of Mid-Atlantic Studies, 70(1), 101-109]. The FHA (Federal Housing Administration) was complicit with Levitt and other developers in the perpetuation of the practice of segregation, despite its clear violation of federal housing laws [‘Levittown, New York’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.Wikipedia.org]. Little wonder then that African-Americans saw the housing market as tainted, a “symbol of racial inequality”✱.
ef=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/image-22.jpg”> The Myers[/cap
Levitt received a phalanx of criticism for the racially restrictive clause⍍…the NAACP (National Committee for the Advancement of Colored People) and the ACLU (American Civil Rights Union) campaigned against it, a Committee to End Discrimination for formed to specifically take on the task of fighting housing segregation. In 1957 a Black family moved into one of the homes in Levittown Pennsylvania⌖. After Daisy and William Myers (and their children) arrived in the Dogwood Hollow section of the estate, they were subjected to ongoing harassment and intimidation by White bigots nightly outside their home. Some Levittowners called in “professional supremacists”, the Ku Klux Klan to coordinate the protest (jeering crowds milling on the front lawn, cross burnings, Confederate flags, rocks thrown through the Myers’ windows, petitions to force the family out). After the local police failed to protect the family, the protesting crowds were eventually ended only after intervention by state troopers✫ [‘White Riot in Response to Arrival of First African American Family in Levittown, PA’, www.historyengine.richmond.edu; ’60 years later, the Levittown shame that still lingers’, (Jerry Jonas), Bucks County Courier Times, 12-Aug-2017, www.buckscountycouriertimes.com].
Desegregation of Levittown
Levitt resisted the criticism and made his third mass-produced settlement, Willingboro/Levittown in New Jersey, another Whites only community (no Blacks but it did permit White ‘ethnics’ – Hispanics/Latinos and Jews). By 1960 Willingboro had its first African-American family residing there (by 1970 it was 11 per cent Black). Only in 1968, after the assassination of Martin Luther King, did Levitt come out and announce that Levittown housing developments would no longer be racially segregated. Pointedly this occurred at the same time as the federal government enacted the Fair Housing Act into law [Kushner].
Over the years many sociological studies and much cultural criticism has focused on the Levittown housing model. An early take on Levittown described the housing project in aspirational working class terms as “the dream come true of the skilled mechanic in the blue dungarees” [‘Levittown U.S.A.’, A. Miller, Phylon Quarterly, 19(1), 1st Quarter 1958, 108-112]. Many observers have portrayed Levittown as a double-edged sword…”Levittown embodied the best and worst of the postwar American story”, some saw Levittown’s achievements symbolising America’s can do” spirit, its ingenuity and entrepreneurship, but for many liberals it symbolised violent prejudice, unthinking conformity and race-based exclusion [‘Levittown: The Imperfect Rise of the American Suburb’ (C Galyean), US History Scene, www.ushistoryscene.com].
Sanitised homogeneity of Levittown
From the time of Levittown’s first outing in New York in 1947, some critics were concerned than the large-scale experiments in housing may turn into mass slums of suburban sprawl. If they weren’t thought of as slums, they were characterised as bland and unoriginal. Sociologist Lewis Mumford depicted the developments as comprising a “low-grade, uniform environment from which escape is impossible” [‘Suburban Legend William Levitt’, (Richard Lacayo), Time, 07-Dec-1998, www.time.com]. A common perception of Levittown from the outside looking in that has become generic is of an over-sanitised suburb consisting largely of identical housing [‘Levittown, New York’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. Standardised houses produce standardised people was a popular view of critics at the time. Some went further and labelled Levittown a “social failure and an environmental disaster” [Steven Conn].
From an aerial or from a panoramic view, Levittown did leave itself susceptible to satire…the clear-cut “cookie-cutter” pattern of little boxes and white picket-fence wholesomeness invited comparisons with the world of the 1950s as portrayed on American television. The neighbourhood houses and their neat configurations resembled the sets of Leave It To Beaver and Father Knows Best: images of irenic and idyllic communities of harmonious middle class suburbia…in other words, they looked like the cruel parodies of the American dream detached from realities – as depicted on the small screen [Review of Diane Harris (Ed), Second Suburb: Levittown, Pennsylvania, (2010), (DR Contosa)].
Customising a Levittowner
The view of the Levittown landscape as fixed and immutable has been rejected by some observers who point out that the owners themselves were the agents of change and non-conformity…after they settled in some of the residents altered the nature of their tract-houses to suit themselves and their lifestyle – extending a standard utilitarian Cape Cod or a Rancher to express the individuality of their homes. They also converted car ports into garages or additional rooms for new children, and the like [Schuyler]. Furthermore, Richard Lacayo argues that Levitt homes were made to be customised, the original structures were basic and over time homeowners added features such as porches, dormers and new wings [Lacayo].
Un-Americanism, McCarthyism and Levitt
The formative days of the first Levittown projects coincided with the McCarthyist period of political witch-hunts aimed at exposing supposed communists within America. By a curious convergence of mutual interests, Senator Joe McCarthy joined up with fellow illiberal Bill Levitt in promoting the virtues of Levittown (“a model of the American way” McCarthy declared). In one of his incendiary speeches McCarthy equated public housing (Levitt’s competitors) with communism [‘The Levittown Legacy’, (Ellen Leopold), Monthly Review, 01-Nov-2000, www.monthlyreview.org]. Levitt returned the favour by vilifying anyone who opposed his segregationist practices as ‘communist’, linking Levittown to the McCarthyist cause, and by endorsing the Levittown way of housing as a more American and capitalist alternative to public housing [Galyean].
In 1968 Levitt sold Levitt & Sons to telecommunications goliath ITT for a cool $92M. Subsequent attempts by Levitt to replicate the glory days of Levittown in overseas housing projects (Nigeria, Iran, Venezuela) floundered, and then a big project in Orlando, Florida, also went “belly up”, with dire personal consequences for the realty developer. Levitt misused funds belonging to customers and from his charitable trust [‘Tough Times for Mr. Levittown’, (MT Kaufman), New York Times Magazine, 24-Sep-1989, www.nytimes.com]. The once great ‘King of Suburbia’ – whose multi-multi-million dollar business at its height was constructing 12 houses a day on its construction sites – died in debt, still dreaming of pulling off one more mega-housing triumph.
FN: By the late 1980s there were high taxes imposed on individual Levittown properties due to the absence of a commercial tax base. Levitt recognised, all-too belatedly, that this was a weakness of his developments (the estates were designed without adjacent industrial/commercial complexes)… which also deprived residents of a local employment source [Kaufman]. Another ironic twist for Levitt whose marketing mantra always invoked the affordability of a Levitt home, in 1988 homes in Levittown Philadelphia had a $200,000 price tag on them! [‘It Started With Levittown in 1947: Nation’s 1st Planned Community Transformed Suburbia’, (JF Peltz), Los Angeles Times, www.latimes.com]
PostScript: “Little Boxes”
The period from the mid/late Fifties to the early Sixties saw a heightening of criticism of Levittown (and its clones) in literary and cultural forms. US novels of the period presented a downbeat, unappealing and even bleak view of life in a Levittown style environment, especially John C Keats’s The Crack in the Picture Window and Richard Yates’ Revolutionary Road. Social critic Keats wrote of the postwar suburban ‘solutions’, “find a box of your own in one of the fresh air slums”, Yates spoke of an era dominated by “a general lust for conformity”. The takeaway message of these works was that the tract-home buyer was entering a stultifying world of social alienation, the anonymity of suburbs, impersonal supermarkets, inane ‘mod’ gadgetry and mortgage servitude✜…bleak stuff indeed! To William H Whyte these were the “new package suburbs” whose residents (were) “transient, interchangeable cogs in the engine of corporate America” [Schuyler]. The critique of the Levitt house also extended to pop music of the day, Malvina Reynolds’ song ‘Little Boxes’ added a similar disparaging note to the Levittown commentary.
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✱ even after the removal of racial exclusion covenants in the 1960s, the 2000 Census revealed that Caucasian residents of Levittown, Bucks County, still comprised 98 per cent of the population
⍍ Kenneth Jackson has argued that the problem would have been avoided had Levitt simply made Levittown available to all from the start, he asserts that the demand for houses after the war was so great that White buyers wouldn’t have been put off by the prospect of having some Black neighbours [quoted in Schuyler]
⌖ it had been sold to the African-American couple by the home’s original owner (Levitt was legally powerless to prevent the re-selling of Levittown properties)
✫ the 2017 George Clooney movie Suburbicon is a fictionalised interpretation of the Myers Levittown incident
✜ the acerbic (other) Mr Keats followed up The Crack in the Picture Window with The Insolent Chariots (1958), a comparable hatchet job on the automobile and Americans’ problematic relationship with it
Postwar society – in America as elsewhere – was beset with a multitude of problems. Affordable housing was high on the agenda of priorities – servicemen returning from World War II and a new generation of Americans that would become known as the ‘Baby Boomers’ were about to come into the world. Due to preoccupation with the war and its drain on US domestic manpower, housing construction levels were well down at a time that birth-rate numbers were about to take off.
Into this scenario, at a most opportune time, walked the Levitt family, father Abraham and sons Bill and Alfred. Bill Levitt, who took over the family real estate development business from his father, saw a chance to meet the country’s pressing accommodation needs by mass producing houses at lower cost. Levitt and Sons, as the company was called, had already entered the field pre-war, initially successfully but had failed in its first foray into the high-volume sector✱. Venturing into postwar low-cost housing bore a certain irony for the Levitts – as they had began their career in property development during the Depression building and selling high-end, custom-made houses to upper middle class people (the Strathmore project in Manhasset, Long Island). Indeed, the years spent making and selling exclusive, upscale properties to the gentry of New York made the family rich[‘William Levitt Facts’, (Your Dictionary), www.biography.yourdictionary.com].
Levittown, New YorkThe first mass scale suburban project, commenced in 1947, was at Island Trees, a hamlet in the town of Hempstead (Nassau County, Long Island). 1,400 tract-homes were sold in the first three hours of the opening of the Island Trees estate sales office [‘Levittown New York’, Wikipedia Republished, http://wiki2.org], within four years the Levitts had built 17,500 homes in Hempstead. The company concentrated on small two-bedroom dwellings, predominantly ‘rancher’ or Cape Cod style, seventh-of-an-acre lots (750 square foot). These tract-houses as they are known in the trade were modest structures, for the most part pretty basic (a living room, a kitchen, but no garage, an unfinished second floor) and pressed fairly close together in rows. But they were (initially anyway) very reasonably priced as well, affordable to US veterans from the World War, Levitt’s initial target market (“the Levittown house was the reduction of the American Dream to an affordable reality” as historian Barbara Kelly described it). Each Levittown housing complex was divided into distinct sections.
A revolutionary approach to housingPrior to the advent of the Levittown model, house construction was done in a unitary fashion, a building company would work on a new home until completed and then move on to the next project (the average builder had been constructing only about four to five homes a year). William and Alfred Levitt✫, building on the mass-production experience of Californian builders, devised something radically different, a totally new division of labour to speed up the process dramatically. Construction was divided into 27 separate steps or operations, each worker or specialised team of workers would complete one step and then move to the next house to repeat the step there, and so on (for example one worker’s job would be the singular task of going from house to house bolting washing machines onto the floor all day!)[Schuyler, D. (2003), ‘Reflections on Levittown at Fifty’, Pennsylvania History: A Journal of Mid-Atlantic Studies, 70(1), 101-109. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/27778531].
Everything on site was orchestrated to work seamlessly, the tradesmen were scheduled to arrive in a strictly planned sequence. Bill Levitt admired automobile tsar Henry Ford’s production methods and replicated them in what was an assembly line style of home construction. The comparison was widely noted, Time magazine called Bill Levitt “the Henry Ford of Housing” [Schuyler]. Others, only barely a little less grandly, styled him “the King of Suburbia”.
Vertical integrationKey to the spectacular success of Levitt & Sons (at its peak the company was constructing homes at the staggering rate of one every 16 minutes!), and its rapid prosperity, was the way it achieved a vertical integration of the industry…the company purchased its own forests in Oregon and started its own mills to provide the lumber it needed; a lot of the parts came in prefabricated; Levitt & Sons even made its own nails. It also purchased materials in mass quantities thus avoiding markups on prices paid [Schuyler]. By buying directly from the manufacturer, Levitt’s saved through cutting out the middleman in the process. Kenneth Jackson credited the Levitt brothers with “transforming a cottage industry into a major manufacturing process” [KT Jackson, Crabtree Frontier: The Suburbanization of the United States (1985)].
Integral to Bill Levitt’s cunning strategy for success was his exclusion of labour unions from his projects and his capacity to persuade lawmakers into softening industry regulations making Levittown easier to achieve [‘William Levitt Facts’]. Another huge advantage in boosting the success of Levitt’s projects was the securing of mortgage financing incentives from the federal government (veterans could buy into the estates with little or no down-payment) [‘Levittowns (Pennsylvania and New Jersey)’, (Suzanne Lashner Dayanim, The Encyclopedia of Greater Philadelphia), www.philadelphiaencyclopedia.org].
Levittown, Pa. ca.1959
Levittown, Pennsylvania
The second Levittown (commenced in 1952) was located in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, about 20 miles north of Philadelphia. The Levitt houses built had limited exterior variations – six types: the Levittowner, the Rancher, the Jubilee, the Pennsylvanian, the Colonial, the Country Clubber – but again they were moderately priced with low down-payments. At project’s end, 1958, a total of 17,311 homes had been built on the site [‘Levittown, Pennsylvania’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].
Growth and expansion of the prototypeEventually the Levittown concept of housing estates extended elsewhere – both far and wide. In Burlington County, New Jersey, Levittown Willingboro started in 1958, followed by Levittown Largo in Maryland, 1963, and two other Maryland communities, Bowie (1964) and Crofton (1970). As well, a Levittown in Puerto Rico was built in 1963, and two “Gallic Levittowns” in Northern France in the 1960s, Lésigny and Mennecy (both close to Paris)⍉.The Levitt covenantsWilliam Levitt, in the first instance at least, once he sold families a Levitt house, did not entirely leave them to their own devices. Owners had to comply with certain suburban covenants that he wrote into the contracts…the rules and regulations included no laundry to be done on Sundays and no fencing off of yards. Owners were required to keep their lawns mown and neatly hedged. Bill Levitt himself would drive around some of the communities on Saturdays to ensure that the residents complied with this edict – when he spotted properties that were non-compliant, he would despatch his own lawn-mowing team to do the job and bill the owners on the following weekday [‘Suburban Legend William Levitt’, (Richard Lacayo), Time, 07-Dec-1998, www.time.com].
There was another more controversial Levitt covenant, this one with grossly inequitable and far-reaching overtones. From the onset of the first Levittown, Bill Levitt refused outright to allow African-Americans to buy into the company’s housing estates. Levitt, a Jew, copped a lot of flak for his stance on excluding Black citizens, including Black veterans (see below FN re the dilemma of his Jewishness). I will detail this less edifying side of the Levittown phenomena in Part II of the blog.
Footnote: A “Gentlemen’s Agreement”:
‘Gentleman’s Agreement’, a lauded film of the day
William Levitt’s discrimination against Non-Whites in Levittown was preceded by a similar policy against his own race in the earlier, North Strathmore housing project. Despite being Jewish himself (and a generous benefactor of the state of Israel and an organiser of Jewish-American funding for Israel during the Six-Day War) Levitt in his business dealings would not buck the local practice of real-estate agents refusing to sell to Jews – the unspoken “Gentlemen’s Agreement” among Gentiles to discriminate against Jews [‘William Levitt Facts’].
__________________________________✱ building a 1,600-shack community in Norfolk, Virginia, which still had unsold units in 1950 [‘William Levitt’ Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]✫ William was overall the boss of the business as the financier and promoter, whilst Alfred created the mass production techniques, designed the homes and the developments’ layouts. Father, Abraham, pretty much early on took a step back, ceding the running of the enterprise to oldest son Bill. This allowed the elder Levitt (a horticulturist by training) free rein to pursuit his pet interest, taking charge of the Levitt projects’ landscaping.⍉ Levitt designed tract-homes can be found also in Buffalo Grove and Vernon Hills (Illinois) and Fairfax (Virginia)
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𓇽 see also the October 2021 blog Lakewood Park, Ca Housing Development, the West Coast Answer to Levittownon www.7dayadventurer.com Lakewood Park, a mega-sized, rapidly constructed Californian housing development in the 1950s—the brainchild of three Jewish American developers—operated what was effectively a (unwritten) covenant discriminating against non-white prospective home-buyers.