A Premier and a Governor in Bermuda

By: Sir David Gibbons, a.k.a. Grandpa

SCENE

POINT SHARES

November 1977 IT WAS a cool night in mid-November 1977. David Gibbons, Bermuda's new Premier, and his wife, Lully, lit a fire in the cedar-panelled library. After 17 years of living at "Leeward," their pink Bermuda stone house, they knew this would take the humid, damp chill off the room. Drinks would be even more pleasant with a bright fire burning.

A stillness enveloped their home on the outer edge of Hamilton Harbour that evening. With the coming of cool weather, the tourist season was beginning to ebb. A nearly empty ferry passed in front of "Leeward," making its last run across the harbour for the night. Motorboats tugged at their moorings in the turquoise water. Across the harbour in the parish of Paget only a few of the grand houses on the hills glowed with light.

Gibbons was buoyant this evening. He had just returned from his first trip to London as Premier of Bermuda, and his meetings with leaders there had been successful. He had made good contacts within Her Majesty's government.

At home in Bermuda, he had squelched infighting within his own political party. He and his newly appointed, racially mixed cabinet could now focus on the task at hand: creating an integrated government and society. His first ten weeks as Premier had been busy and productive. In this brief amount of time he had built a solid foundation on which to tackle the work of the country.

The doorbell rang, causing the two miniature poodles to yip in excitement. Lully shushed the little dogs as her husband opened the door to greet their dinner guests.

The new Governor of Bermuda, Sir Peter Ramsbotham, and his wife, Frances, stood before them, a portrait of diplomatic grace and experience. Over the course of his 28-year career in the Foreign Office, the couple had lived and represented Her Majesty's government all over the world - Europe, the Middle East, and the United States. Bermuda was his last post before retirement.

Sir Peter knew already that his tenure in Bermuda was not going to be just three years of birdwatching and golf. Despite the holidaymakers and gaily painted houses, tensions lurked below the surface.

Bermuda was a deeply divided country. The political parties - one ostensibly white, one ostensibly black - duelled constantly. Two black men were convicted of a string of political murders that were said to be racially motivated. Bermuda was a society in which the gulf between the whites and blacks, the "haves" and "have-nots," was widening. Enmity between many blacks and whites was growing.

The Governor also had to work with a Premier who was new to the office. On Sir Peter's first assessment, it was plain to him that Gibbons was not a political animal. He was probably one of the few people on the island of 53,000 who was not inclined to small talk. Sir Peter could already see that kissing babies - the public relations of politics - was not a natural inclination for Gibbons.

Sir Peter sensed at once, however, that Gibbons was an intelligent man. An economist, banker, and international businessman, Gibbons had expanded a family retail business into the largest conglomerate in Bermuda, with interests in banking, insurance, and retail. Gibbons was a quick study, and the new Governor anticipated that though Gibbons might make mistakes with only five years as an elected politician under his belt, he would never make the same mistake twice. Also, Gibbons was devotedly Bermudian; his family, his businesses, and his heart were deeply rooted on these islands. David Gibbons was, Sir Peter immediately discerned, a man he could work with.

Their work together had not yet really begun. Sir Peter and Lady Ramsbotham had arrived in Bermuda two months before, and their calendar had been filled with official duties. Tonight was one of the first evenings the couples had spent together out of the public eye. And intimate settings such as this, they all knew, are where working relationships are built, and friendships and trust born. The Gibbons were looking forward to a quiet evening getting to know the new Governor and his wife.

When Sir Peter walked inside the house, Gibbons instantly noticed that he looked perturbed. On previous occasions when they had met, the Governor had been quiet and circumspect, possessing a diplomat's sense for timing and tact. Tonight, he jumped straight to the point.

"David, I've got some rather urgent news for you," said Sir Peter. "Can we go out on the porch?"

Gibbons escorted the preoccupied Governor outside. They stood at the railing, overlooking the water.

"I've just received a telegram from London," Sir Peter told him. "It concerned the executions of the two black men who were convicted of the political murders."

Although a Bermudian court had sentenced these men to hang, it was understood by both the Governor and the Premier that the Queen would be advised to exercise her prerogative of mercy, substituting life imprisonment for execution.

"The telegram informed me that the foreign secretary, David Owen, had been unable to advise Her Majesty the Queen to intervene to prevent the law from taking its course." The Bermudian court's decision would hold.

"Good God in heaven, Peter," blurted the normally unflappable Premier. Gibbons was stunned by this news. "What does this mean?"

"All I can suggest to you," replied a subdued Sir Peter quietly, "is secure the services of a competent hangman."

CHAPTER 3

TO SET THINGS RIGHT

The Pitt Commission

"The Pitt Commission was a case of putting the country on the couch, so to speak, and taking stock of how we arrived at that tragic point in our history."
Alex Scott

"We interviewed many, many Bermudians - black and white - and some stories were absolutely soul-destroying."
Reginald Cooper

LOIS BROWNE-EVANS, Leader of the PLP, stayed in her house as tempers flared and buildings burned in Bermuda.

This was extremely uncharacteristic for her; for the previous 20 years, she could always be found in the thick of anything and everything political. During the 1968 riots, she had walked up and down the back-of-town streets, explaining to residents that during a state of emergency curfew, they must remain in their homes; otherwise, they could be arrested.

This time, however, she couldn't muster the energy. She was depressed, having failed to get a stay of execution granted for Tacklyn. On Thursday night, she had driven out to Casemates Prison to tell him the news. He had been hanged on Friday. She had not left home all weekend.

On Sunday night, she was watching 60 Minutes with her husband when the phone rang. It was Sir Peter Ramsbotham.

"I've been thinking about what has happened," the Governor said. "Could I arrange a meeting with you?"

"Why?" she asked. "You refused to accept my plea the other night at Government House."

"This is different," the Governor replied. "You may find it to your advantage."

From his perspective from the towers at Government House, Sir Peter Ramsbotham could see how this island country below him was dividing even further. The riots exposed great gulfs and deep animosities; the political situation had taken a terrible turn. The island had become polarised: PLP vs. UBP, black vs. white. "The situation was so precarious," Ramsbotham recalled. "It was important they should understand each other, whatever their lack of sympathy for each other. And it was my job to try to bring about reconciliation."

Sir Peter decided it was up to him to step in. He felt he could affect change and begin the process of resolution and healing between the battling factions. As Governor, he could use his role to reconcile differences, to find a way through the political infighting. "Only I could have done it," remembered Sir Peter. "Not because of any personal virtue, but because I was detached from political affairs. How could they do it themselves, two parties like that?"

This was familiar territory for Sir Peter. During his career as a diplomat, he had been in similarly heated situations - with the Turks and the Greeks in Cyprus, and in Iran, when the Shah threatened to take over islands in the Persian Gulf. He was well versed in the delicate dance of diplomacy.

His strategy was, on the face of it, a simple one: to begin a dialogue between the two political parties. His underlying motive: to curb the negative and destructive mood on the island by getting the two parties to cooperate with him.

The next morning, Sir Peter welcomed Lois Browne-Evans and Premier David Gibbons into his office at Government House. He had called this meeting, he said, to propose a public inquiry into the riots, and he wanted the two leaders' assistance in creating it. If the UBP and the PLP could - together - create an inquiry into the riots which had divided the country, then, the Governor hoped, reconciliation could begin. And if both sides participated in the inquiry's creation, they would be more inclined to support it.

In Bermuda, where politics were rife, he thought a royal inquiry and commission would be most productive. A Royal Commission, he suggested to the leaders, is above both party politics and government. A Royal Commission would have British as well as Bermudian members participating.

The three then adjourned to consider Sir Peter's proposal.

Sir Peter was adamant about including the PLP in the Royal Commission investigating the 1977 riots. He needed only to look back in Bermudian history nine years to find evidence to support this conviction. In 1968, the PLP had been left out of creating the "Royal Commission into the 1968 Riots," the Wooding Report. The party then used this fact to dismiss the content and recommendations of the Wooding Report. It did not spur great changes in Bermudian society; the report gathered dust in the halls of government.

Sir Peter was determined that this would not happen again. By involving the Opposition from the start, he would head off any complaints that might later arise about the results, recommendations, or biases of the Royal Commission. These accusations would therefore ring hollow. "They would have found it that much more difficult to turn around and say, 'This commission report is a waste of time,' " said Deputy Governor Peter Lloyd.

One week later, Sir Peter appeared on television. Speaking from the drawing room at Government House, he informed Bermudians that the curfew had been lifted, the State of Emergency was scheduled to end on December 16, and most of the British troops had left or were scheduled to leave. Life in Bermuda, he hoped, would soon be back to normal.

"And now we must turn our minds to healing wounds," he continued. He implored Bermudians to end racial polarisation, to be resolute in their march toward racial harmony and equality. Sir Peter also discussed the proposed Royal Commission. Not only would the inquiry look into the causes of the disturbances, it would also "look to the future to see what is needed to put things right." Signing off from his last televised address during the disturbances, Sir Peter concluded: "We must see to it that we emerge from our ordeal a stronger and more united country."⁴⁷

While the people of Bermuda were beginning to come to terms with the disturbances, to rebuild their country, and to get on with their lives, the political parties were doing nothing to calm things down. In fact, members of parliament were raising the political temperature on the island. Their debates in the House of Assembly became slanging matches; every question was turned into a political or racial issue.

When Sir Peter summoned representatives of the UBP and PLP to meetings of the newly formed Governor's Advisory Committee, they brought these combative temperaments with them to Government House. The purpose of these meetings, which occurred just before Christmas, was to discuss how Bermuda would heal and move forward after the riots. But so much animosity had built up between the parties that even the smallest agreement was hard won.

On the table was the issue of the Royal Commission investigation into the riots. The PLP embraced the idea. "We have swept a backlog of sociological, economic, and political iniquities under a manicured façade to fester,"⁴⁸ said Lois Browne-Evans. She saw a Royal Commission as an opportunity to air these long-withheld grievances. But she was adamant that it not be headed by a Bermudian: "Everybody in Bermuda is biased one way or another," she said.

The UBP, Sir Peter remembered, preferred not to have a commission at all. "They didn't see why they should be held up to analysis and criticism," he explained, and certainly not any criticism from what they saw as a U.K. Labour government commission. "They suspected that it would give more attention, perhaps, than it should give to the views of Lois Browne-Evans."

Also, the UBP had already enlisted American psychologist Kenneth Clark to investigate similar issues. "His reports were already to hand," said Sir Peter. "His work on the social and racial problems would be over a much longer period than covered by the Royal Commission. It would probably be more professional and less open to political skirmishing, since it was a private, and not public, exercise."

Despite the controversy, the good soldiers of the UBP and PLP attended the Governor's Advisory Committee to hammer out the details of the Royal Commission. Meetings were held in the dining room at Government House. The Governor sat at the head; Gibbons and Browne-Evans, the two leaders, to his right and left, and their colleagues by their sides. The formal setting of Government House and the presence of the Governor would require the politicians to behave with a measure of decorum which had been starkly lacking in the House of Assembly.

At the end of the table, however, squared off across from each other, sat the UBP's David Wilkinson and the PLP's Walter Robinson. The two men frequently clashed.

"I wish you would tell your respective members to behave themselves!" said the Governor, sternly. "They're not in Parliament. They are in my house, and I'm not going to tolerate it. If they continue to behave here as they do in Parliament, they can leave and I will call this meeting off right away!"⁴⁹

For several months, these meetings dragged on.⁵⁰ Conclusions and agreements were painfully reached. "I did bang their heads together," remembered Sir Peter.

He banged heads particularly over the composition of the Royal Commission. Its makeup was the key to its long-term success and effectiveness. "If Gibbons had insisted on rather strong UBP types on the commission, or if Lois Browne-Evans had strongly objected to appointing someone who wasn't strongly militant PLP, the commission wouldn't have worked," recalled Sir Peter. "So I commend Lois Browne-Evans and David Gibbons for letting all this happen."

This discussion over who should be appointed to the commission dominated the agenda of the Governor's Advisory Committee for many weeks. Sir Peter first nominated Sir Henry Tucker, the founder of the UBP. Lois Browne-Evans was vehemently opposed to this; she would not have someone with such a strong UBP bias on the commission. In the end, Sir Peter appointed white hotelier Reginald Cooper to represent the UBP, and for the PLP, Walter Robinson, a black lawyer and the former party leader. Premier Gibbons nominated black businessman J. Irving Pearman, and the PLP put up Alex Scott, a black owner of an advertising agency. A tempered spirit of cooperation was beginning to emerge.

Sir Peter chose the chairman of the commission, Lord Pitt of Hampstead, a black Grenada-born doctor who had been a British Labour party supporter, chairman of the Greater London Council, and deputy chairman of the Community Relations Commission in Britain for more than 20 years. The Foreign and Commonwealth Office suggested Professor Michael Banton, a professor of sociology at Bristol University, who had worked on a British Home Office study on police and race relations. "He was the real brains behind the whole outfit," remembered Cooper.

Sir Peter had a vision for the Royal Commission: he saw it as an opportunity to open up Bermudian society. He encouraged Lord Pitt to interpret his terms of reference widely, to investigate the social, economic, racial, and political grievances that had contributed to the riots. In addition to identifying the causes of the disturbances, Sir Peter wanted the commission to look to the future to see what was needed, in his words, "to put things right." He specifically asked Lord Pitt to look into electoral reform in order to remove - or at least ameliorate - some of the PLP's grievances. "The PLP's most long-standing grievance lay with the present electoral arrangement," said Sir Peter. "They thought it was rigged against them. So this was a matter to be tackled in order to avoid further disturbances," said Sir Peter.

The mandate of the Royal Commission, then, was a broad examination of Bermuda, a microscope held over the Isles of Rest.

"Getting the Pitt Commission committee together was an achievement," concluded Sir Peter Ramsbotham. "People didn't realise how near it could have been to impossible."
ON APRIL 5, 1978, the Pitt Commission began proceedings. On that day, Bermudian society directed a magnifying glass onto itself, discussing, exposing, and airing out problems and grievances in an exhaustive manner. Across the island, there was great interest in the proceedings. The open meetings, held in City Hall in Hamilton, attracted local residents by the score. More than 100 people each day turned out to listen. The seats in the visitors' gallery were filled with a cross-section of the multiracial society that was Bermuda. Those who didn't attend could have read daily verbatim transcripts of the proceedings in The Royal Gazette. Bermuda had thrown its full weight behind the Pitt Commission.

People came to hear from the politicians, the police, and the press; black and white and Portuguese; young and old.

The six members of the Royal Commission - Lord Pitt and Professor Banton from the U.K., Cooper and Pearman from the UBP, and Robinson and Scott from the PLP - met in private before the hearings began. They soon came to hold Lord Pitt in the highest regard. "He was quite extraordinary," said Alex Scott. "I learned much from him about how an individual can chair and manage a diverse group of individuals. He was able to manage the various interests, political perspectives, temperaments, personalities, and, in my case, tantrums." Reginald Cooper agreed. "He was a divine guy," said Cooper. "He had great empathy for people."

It was Professor Michael Banton, however, who was the architect of the Pitt Report. "He came from England with a blank piece of paper," recounted Scott. "And he sat down in one of our early meetings and asked us, 'What is your view, as a commission, of what happened?' " Banton then drew up the commission's view in outline form, and witnesses' testimony was then placed underneath the appropriate headings. By the time the hearings were completed, Banton had organised much of the nuts-and-bolts - the structure, the order, and the form - of the report.

Over the next six weeks, the Pitt Commission questioned more than 250 witnesses. "Question," might be too gentle a description for what occurred on some days. "People would sit with their mouths open while we interrogated a minister," said Cooper. "And if someone was being evasive in answering a question, Lord Pitt would say, 'Look, here, that's not the question we asked you. Please be more accurate in your answer.' "

On the first day, Deputy Police Commissioner Alfred Morris was called as a witness. The decisions he made on the night the riots began were called into question. "I had drawn the lot to question the commissioner," said Scott. "And it was the most extraordinary experience for me. I looked across a small table, into the cold, steel-blue eyes of the police commissioner. His cap sat on the table beside him. To begin my experience on the Pitt Commission with this man, to start to interview/interrogate him - it was a very sobering moment for me."

The generally accepted view of the sequence of events leading up to the riots was that the situation got out of control when Mrs. Browne-Evans appeared on the steps of the House of Assembly at 10 p.m. Through careful questioning and leading the commissioner hour-by-hour through his own statement, the police commissioner was compelled to admit that, indeed, he had lost control of the crowds much earlier in the evening.⁵¹

Premier David Gibbons was another of the early appearing witnesses. The range of subjects that were covered in his appearance indicated that the Pitt Commission was casting a wide net. The incidents that actually sparked the riots were not of primary concern. Indeed, the Pitt commissioners were looking to get at the endemic and systemic problems in Bermudian culture.

Gibbons was asked about myriad government concerns: the Bermuda Regiment, education, unemployment, independence, the Bermudianisation of the work force, national identity, and segregation.

And, of course, he was queried about race relations. "Bigotry in Bermuda manifests itself in many areas," testified the Premier. "But it is pretty difficult to legislate the hearts and minds of men." He wisely took this opportunity to reiterate that Government was dedicated to a "totally integrated society."⁵²

Premier Gibbons appeared again, this time in the capacity of minister of finance, and provided a detailed analysis of Bermuda's economy. He made clear his conviction that Bermuda's prosperity and high employment rate were largely due to the general system of taxation on consumption.⁵³

A parade of government ministers followed. Their testimony generally focused on Government's plans for improving the social system and race relations. They offered a careful look at the workings of the Gibbons government, offering detailed information on social assistance, expansion of housing, job protection for Bermudians, and the education system.

The most valuable testimony came from private citizens. This is what the Pitt Commission is remembered for today: the extensive, emotional testimony of everyday people. And this is where the healing of this divided country began.

"The hearings served as a safety valve for pent-up emotions," remembered Sir Peter Ramsbotham. "The frustrated, and those who nursed real or imaginary grievances, could get things off their chest and see others doing so. If you allow people to have their say, there is psychological relief in the person. 'Did you see what I said?' he can say to his friends. 'I am heard, I am valued, I am reported in The Royal Gazette.' It's very difficult to assess the success of something like that. I think that was much more important than was recognised."

"Every cross-section of the country came before the commission," said J. Irving Pearman, the Premier's appointment to the commission. "People had this opportunity to comfortably and safely say what they honestly felt were the rights and the wrongs."

One day, Lord Pitt threw open the doors to City Hall, calling for a day of "contributions from individuals." The report in The Royal Gazette shows that Bermudians embraced this chance. It also shows the immense patience of the six members of the Pitt Commission, who often listened to the testimony of more than ten witnesses each day. As the following excerpt reports, witnesses ran the gamut of emotions and tones: angry and accusatory; nostalgic and sad; rambling, unfocused, and confused.

The first scheduled witness, Mr. Rolfe Commissiong [sic], did not show up at all. After a wait of 20 minutes or so... a woman then rose from the audience and identified herself as Mrs. Elizabeth Richardson of Smith's Parish, and proceeded to speak against capital punishment, "drunk" M.P.s, the land tax, and the $5 departure tax.
The second scheduled witness, Mr. R.M. Roberts of St. George's, began his testimony with a prayer, and later swore to its truth on a Bible that he carried among other books and papers. Much of his speech could not be made out clearly at the press table.
He gave copious quotations from Scripture in connection with capital punishment, but only Lord Pitt's questioning gave a clue to whether he was for it or against it. Two commission members, questioned later, said they did not know [where he stood], and would have to wait for the official transcript....
The third witness, Mr. J. Derek Taylor, expanded on his written submission to the commission, speaking personally on the basis of his experience as Commanding Officer of the Sea Cadet unit in Hamilton. He called for help to rehabilitate substandard housing, and stressed the need for parents to be at home evenings and for young people to have realistic job expectations.
During the afternoon session, Mr. Herbert H. Browne took the commission back to 1920, on the day the Prince of Wales came to Bermuda. The white schoolchildren were invited to greet the dashing bachelor, while the black children stayed in class and as a consolation received a photo of the heir to the throne and a shilling.
Mr. McInnis Looby, a shoe salesman and social worker, complained for nearly an hour about the neglect of youth programmes by Government.⁵⁴

Some witnesses chose to testify behind closed doors. "We interviewed many, many Bermudians, black and white, and some of the ones in camera were absolutely soul-destroying," recounted Cooper. "What they had been through from childhood, to what they were going through today - it made us feel very, very committed to do something."

Sir Peter's great hope was that racial and political tensions in Bermuda would be relieved "by allowing everybody in the community - even the dotty - to have their say, to let it all hang out," he explained. "That is exactly what I had in mind."

One prominent voice in Bermuda was noticeably silent, absent from the hearings at City Hall. Sir Peter Ramsbotham steered completely clear of the Royal Commission. "I had appointed them, and I delegated to them," he said, "and I didn't want to interfere."

Both the UBP and the PLP submitted position papers to the Royal Commission. The UBP's submission opened by aggressively finger-pointing "certain leading personalities in the PLP and their associates.... [and finding] them guilty of raising the emotional temperature among frustrated, susceptible, and responsive black youth to the point where rioting was all but inevitable." Its 44-page submission articulated plans for race relations, housing, economic development, and education. The report concluded: "We are now precariously perched on a watershed in our social and political development. The watershed is defined in terms of race."⁵⁵

The PLP's submission highlighted its strong desire and push for constitutional change:

We in the Bermuda Progressive Labour Party are firmly convinced that no amount of social and economic reform, however wisely conceived and however efficiently conducted, would be completely successful without the alteration of the electoral and constitutional processes paving the way ultimately for Independence, and nationhood.
We are also firmly convinced that this deep-seated sense of frustration will not dissipate itself or be eradicated until this country's political processes are seen to be separate and apart from the control and dominance by the very same persons who manage the wealth of this country.
We propose in this written submission to deal mainly with those areas of injustice in our Constitution which we feel add to and heighten the basic underlying frustrations of the indigenous Bermudians.⁵⁶

"The case that the PLP wanted to make," explained Alex Scott, "was that all of this must conclude with a constitutional conference. That's where, as far as the party was concerned, the road had to lead. The Pitt Commission would not have been successful if, at the end of the day, all we had was a report."

Some of the commission's work was done outside of City Hall. Lord Pitt and his committee members viewed three hours of videotape of the riots at the ZBM television studio. They visited Casemates Prison, where Burrows and Tacklyn had been held, and back-of-town sites of substandard housing. One Saturday afternoon, Lord Pitt, Professor Banton, and Alex Scott attended a "Young Progressives" political rally at Devil's Hole in Smith's Parish. For half an hour, the three commission members walked among the crowd of more than 500 people. That afternoon, they probably heard many firsthand accounts of problems in Bermuda and dissatisfaction with government.

Over six weeks, 250 people either testified before or made written submissions to the Pitt Commission. "Believe me," said J. Irving Pearman. "It was a concentrated effort."

THE MEMBERS of the commission were then sent to London to write the report. "We were sent to the U.K.," remembered Pearman, "so we would get away from the domestic pressures. And they were there. They were there from Front Street, employer groups, the rank and file, the average man."

For 14 days straight, the Royal Commission convened in the boardroom of the Bermuda Tourist Office. The meetings were long and intense, remembered one participant, "but it was not a battlefield."⁵⁷

Professor Banton thought otherwise, remembered Alex Scott. "I can remember him saying, 'If we're not careful, this thing could end up in fisticuffs.' That English term - such a curious phrase - has always stayed with me. I never thought it would go quite that far, but that underscores the determination each of us brought to getting our points of view in. Especially for Irving [Pearman] and I: we had [our parties] to answer to, to report to, to represent."

Deliberations at the Tourist Office were impassioned, Reginald Cooper remembered, because "we all felt we were on a mission. We really did." Although they were thousands of miles away from Bermuda, the voices of the people - 36 notebooks full of verbatim transcripts of all the witnesses - echoed in the room as they debated. A great feeling of responsibility hung over the shoulders of the commission. "It's one thing for an individual to represent his own opinion," said Scott. But when a witness "brings the views of representatives of the community, then you fight for the insertion of those views. Or, the conclusions have to take into consideration the problems that large segments of the community are having."

Every sentence, every phrase, every word, every comma was debated by the commission. "At any given moment, any commissioner could insert his concerns and his views into the report. But that view had to be tested by all of the others," said Scott.

THE 196-PAGE Pitt Commission Report was signed by Lord Pitt and the commissioners and submitted to Sir Peter Ramsbotham on July 14, 1978. It was released to the Bermudian public just before Cup Match, the annual cricket festival in late July. Sir Peter chose this date so that Bermudians could read and discuss the lengthy report during the two-month-long House of Assembly vacation.

Each chapter of the Pitt Report opens with a quotation from Shakespeare's play The Tempest. It is an odd grace note on such a detailed sociological report. One explanation could simply be that this play was set on the island of Bermuda. Another, that the "tempest" refers to the stormy and volatile nature of the riots that sparked the investigation. Either way, credit for this literary lagniappe is given to Lord Pitt. "He loved that sort of thing," said one participant.

Responsibility for the immediate cause of the riots was placed squarely on the government's shoulders. The PLP was basically exonerated of the charge of fanning any flames of racial enmity. "David Gibbons was furious," remembered Cooper.

"He must have known that a Royal Commission would put him and the party of government under pressure for being responsible," explained Sir Peter. "And Gibbons was a big enough man to go along with the commission. But I'm guessing that he understood why I wanted the Pitt Commission, and he brought his own party along behind it. And this is why our collaboration, which started at the time of the riots, worked. We did trust each other."

For the underlying causes, the Pitt Report took a magnifying glass to Bermudian society, covering topics such as economic growth, immigration, housing, land use, family and social services, education, social integration, the criminal justice system, and internal security.

Some recommendations were received with hostility. "Some of my UBP friends said to me, 'I won't read that bloody thing,' " recalled Cooper. "They said it was too anti-establishment, too anti-white. But that's what we were there for."

Income tax was one such topic. There is no income tax in Bermuda, so this proposal was "very, very unpopular," remembered Cooper. "That took a lot of soul-searching to decide. In my opinion, there has to be a better way to tax than we have now. We were probably wrong in saying, 'Let's have income tax.' We probably should have said, in retrospect, 'Let's have a major overhaul of our tax structure.' "

Independence was another contentious topic. The last chapter of the Pitt Report was a 16-paragraph-long discussion about how "it is no longer inappropriate to consider Bermuda in terms of nationhood or potential nationhood... before long, Bermuda must become independent." The two final sentences of the behemoth 196-page Pitt Report concluded, "We consider it our duty to declare our conclusion that only with independence can national unity be forged and pride in being Bermudian fully develop. We call upon the people of Bermuda to act boldly in fashioning their future."

Reginald Cooper explained what occurred behind the scenes. "Lord Pitt was of the opinion that independence for Bermuda would bring blacks and whites together as one people, fighting for the same thing. That, he thought, may alleviate the racial tension. We knew it was going to be totally unpopular in Bermuda among the hierarchy. We just didn't realise how strongly Bermuda felt about its ties to England."

"Independence was the one significant recommendation in the Pitt Report in which I strongly differed from Lord Pitt," remembered Sir Peter. "In the annual Throne Speech, I had reiterated that the British government would accede to any request for independence from Bermuda which was supported by a majority of the people. But I thought then that it would be many years before that might become a reality, since it seemed that the majority of Bermudians would continue to wish to have their cake and eat it, too. They wished to remain a Dependent Territory with full flexibility of choice, and without the expense and commitment of independent sovereignty."

The third controversial topic tackled by the Pitt Commission was constitutional issues. At issue was the Commonwealth Residency Vote. The 1968 Constitution, in Section 55, subsection 1(b), provided that British subjects age 21 or older who had been residing in Bermuda for three years were entitled to vote in elections. "This provision has been the subject of bitter resentment on the part of many Bermudians," said the Pitt Report. The number of Commonwealth residency voters "has been sufficient to have decided the outcomes of elections in several constituencies. It is said that the resentment it arouses was a contributory cause to the disturbances, and that it remains a threat to any programme of integration."

Explained Sir Peter, "The PLP didn't think they could ever get elected without this being removed."

The UBP was inflexible on this point; it wanted to continue the three-year residency vote. There was no way, therefore, that the two UBP representatives on the Royal Commission could return to Bermuda having conceded on this issue. The Pitt Report thus reads: "The commission has debated this issue at great length and believes that this should be a priority item for the proposed [constitutional] conference and recommends that conference to bring the provisions of residential voting to an end."

"The report says they 'debated at length,' " reiterated Sir Peter. "They couldn't come to an agreement. On all the other things they managed to. But Pearman and Cooper would have been hounded when they got back to Bermuda if they had given that away, so they didn't allow Pitt to do what the majority wanted, which was recommend elimination. They did allow the Report to say "it 'should be a priority item for the proposed conference.' "

"You have to read between the lines of the Pitt Report," Sir Peter continued. "Once or twice they let slip into the report that the question of the three-year residency vote created 'bitter resentment.' This is the main thing I spotted, and later cured, after the Constitutional Conference."

"And that's why it was such a well-chosen commission," said Sir Peter. "To allow [the compromises] to happen, and also for David Gibbons and others to allow this to happen."

The "Report of the Royal Commission Into the 1977 Disturbances," also known as the Pitt Report, is an important point of reference in Bermuda today. The report is still referred to in the House of Assembly. It is also a bellwether for the press and politicians, a means of measuring how far Bermuda has come in terms of race relations.

But its immediate effects - serving as a safety valve for the release of pent-up emotions - may be its greatest legacy, in that it allowed all Bermudians to be heard. "It was a genuine hearing," said Ottiwell Simmons, who was then president of the Bermuda Industrial Union. "Before the riots, they had tried to get people to listen to them and nobody would listen. So that's what you get from suppression, suppression, suppression, suppression - something explodes. So [the Pitt Commission] was the proper way to handle the aftermath - letting people have an opportunity to express themselves and throw off some feelings."

David L. White, editor of The Royal Gazette, said, "The Pitt Commission allowed people of all sorts of stripes to have their say, and it made recommendations that were healthy. It made it perfectly clear that there was a large segment of Bermuda, largely black, which felt disenfranchised, that it didn't have a voice in the country. Since that time we have far more black representatives in Parliament and the Senate and everywhere else. It's easy to decry these commissions, but the Pitt Commission really did change the atmosphere."

The Pitt Report did, in effect, calm Bermuda down. "We were beginning to have something of a riot season," said Alex Scott. "And the Pitt Report contributed greatly to the stability of the community in the period after '78."

The report itself has become an important document, an important chapter in Bermuda's history. "It was a real slice of life in Bermuda," continued Scott. "It is a living document, and it has relevance today. But back then, any government, any Premier, any Governor, any commissioner, any administrator - if he or she was a man or woman of conscience and was really concerned about the management of affairs in Bermuda - they could look to the Pitt Report as a guidebook of what to do, what not to do, what to look for, and what to look out for."

"My main goal," said Sir Peter Ramsbotham, "from the point of view of subduing the element of unrest which could lead to riots again - was to let everything hang out, to let everyone have their say."

His goals were exceeded, because the Royal Commission became an impetus for change in Bermuda. "I had not anticipated to what extent the Pitt Report would kick the government out of its complacency," concluded Sir Peter. "It kicked us all to get on with things."

CHAPTER 4

ON A PARALLEL TRACK

The Bermuda Plan

"Bermuda can survive only as a model of racial justice and cooperation - and in doing so, suggests the path for other nations throughout the world."
Kenneth Clark

AT THE same time as the Pitt Royal Commission was taking a microscope to Bermudian society, the Bermudian government was working on addressing similar problems from a somewhat parallel track. The work of the Pitt Commission - which was initiated by Sir Peter Ramsbotham - and the work of government, initiated by David Gibbons, overlapped in terms of areas of study, recommendations, and time frame.

Premier David Gibbons, who was responsible for the day-to-day workings of the Bermudian government, put all his energies towards building a better Bermuda as soon as he got into office. He took a decidedly modern, analytical, and businesslike approach to addressing the underlying racial problems that Bermuda faced. He sought advice from experts, made swift decisions, and moved quickly to engender healing and to encourage a more biracial society.

Even before he officially became Premier, Gibbons turned for guidance to his good friend Stanley Ratteray, who had been an influential member in the United Bermuda Party's Black Caucus three years earlier. Gibbons admitted to Ratteray a gulf of understanding between his experiences as a white Bermudian and the experiences of black Bermudians. And that was the moment when Ratteray told the Premier, "In order to understand black people, you need a psychologist."

"David has always had a curious interest in social engineering," remembered Ratteray. "So Kenneth Clark was right up his alley."

So on the advice of Stanley Ratteray, David Gibbons immediately engaged Dr. Kenneth Clark, the prominent black social psychologist; less than four weeks after Gibbons was made leader of the United Bermuda Party, Dr. Clark was working in Bermuda.

"I was, in a sense, pre-sold on Kenneth Clark," remembered Sir David. "He was a man of incredible credentials, and I have great faith in Stan Ratteray." Sir David and Dr. Clark struck up an immediate rapport and easy personal chemistry, two essential ingredients to a good working relationship. This chemistry grew into a deep personal friendship that has spanned over 20 years.

For his work in Bermuda, Clark defined a clear approach and agenda, and spelled it out in the first Clark Report. He and his consulting firm (Clark, Phipps, Clark, & Harris - CPC&H, named for Kenneth Clark, his wife, Mamie Phipps Clark, their son, Hilton Clark, and daughter, Kate Clark Harris) were engaged "to work with government officials and civic leaders to assist Bermuda to achieve a more meaningful integration of the races and more equitable distribution of the wealth of the community."

Today, it would be nearly impossible to view the hiring of Kenneth Clark to investigate and propose changes in Bermuda as a controversial act. His son, Hilton Clark, who worked as a consultant in Bermuda, argued that it was a bold move on David Gibbons' part.

"Was it a visionary act bringing in Kenneth Clark?" asked Hilton Clark. "No, but I think it was a prudent act, a courageous act, bringing us in."

"What's so damn courageous about that?" shot back the now 85-year-old father. In this retort, one could clearly see the vestiges of his famous status-quo-challenging self.

"Gibbons had opposition in his own party," Hilton Clark explained. "He had conservative whites who were hard to manage. And he had blacks in the party who were a vocal minority at that time. So I thought it was courageous politically. And it was a very wise move on the Premier's part to bring in an expert, and a black one, too."

The Bermuda that the consultants to government visited in the fall of 1977 was "calm and easy," according to Dr. Clark. "Bermuda was a quiet vacation place," elaborated Hilton Clark. "The economy was tourism, and it didn't give itself to violent human beings."

When the riots occurred in December 1977, Dr. Clark was "a little surprised" that the hostility "became overt. In my view of Bermuda, it was not going to be overt."

These American consultants were well aware that they were working in a different society, with different reactions, attitudes, and mores. In the United States, explained Hilton Clark, one can point to Martin Luther King's Montgomery, Alabama, bus boycott of 1955 as the catalyst for the civil rights movement. "Then, there was an explosion," he continued. "Bull Connor with the hoses in 1963, the Voting Rights Act and changes in '68. There was no such thing in Bermuda."

In Bermuda, no one event could be singled out as the watershed or the catalyst. "Yes, hangings occurred and there was trouble, unrest," Hilton Clark said. "But even trouble and unrest didn't move anything; it was kind of contained. It didn't explode; it was managed, kept in.... Bermuda was kind of in the wake of things. Things happened elsewhere, and Bermuda kind of just followed along."

Both Dr. Kenneth Clark and Hilton Clark agreed that in Bermuda in 1977, the processes of change and integration had become stagnant. Racism, Dr. Clark explained, can be overt or subtle. And in Bermuda, racism had, in the past 20 years since the theatre boycott, become subtle.

How do you break down this kind of subtle discrimination? "By pointing it out," said Dr. Clark. "That's it." And that's what Clark, Phipps, Clark, and Harris were mandated to do.

Consultants from Dr. Kenneth Clark's firm made eight trips to Bermuda from September to December 1977 - preceding, during, and after the riots. In order to get an in-depth assessment and picture of the situation, they interviewed more than 150 Bermudians during those four months. Most interviews were individual, although some took place in groups. Dr. Kenneth Clark and an associate interviewed and worked with members of Premier Gibbons' cabinet, senior government officials, clergy, and black businessmen and businesswomen. Hilton Clark and an associate interviewed leaders and members of the Progressive Labour Party and the Bermuda Industrial Union. Another CPC&H associate was responsible for interviewing government financial officials, bank executives, and prominent businessmen.

The CPC&H staff also observed the workings of the community by going out in the field. They attended sessions at the House of Assembly, sat in on church meetings, visited neighbourhoods before and after the December disturbances, and systematically observed the staffing and day-to-day operations of hotels, retail stores, and banks.

Kenneth Clark and his colleagues' presence in Bermuda was visible. They fanned out across the island, asking questions and putting their fingers on the pulse of the country. Most who came in contact with Clark came away with a strong impression. People's reactions seemed to reflect their political allegiances.

"Dr. Clark was absolutely brilliant," remembered Mike Winfield. "He did some very good analysis of Bermuda." Recounted David L. White, editor of The Royal Gazette: "He's a sociologist of some magnitude, and he understands the black philosophy and the black psyche extraordinarily well."

Not all Bermudians, of course, shared these glowing reviews. Lois Browne-Evans, leader of the Progressive Labour Party, was suspicious of Clark's motivations and allegiances. "He had no touch with the masses," said Browne-Evans. "I gave him an audience in my office across the street from the cabinet building, and the vibes didn't take because he looked like he was working for [the UBP] - finding all about what black people felt and black people's grievances and taking it back to them to patch it up and then just go through the motions."

Calvin Smith, who was chief government statistician at the time, was highly critical of Clark's approach to the racial problems in Bermuda. He felt that Clark approached Bermuda as if it had the same racial composition as the United States. "Here's a man totally indoctrinated in the strategy of a group that's ten percent of the population that is hostile to them," said Smith. "I'm thinking to myself, 'We're the majority here! We don't need to continue to think like a minority, thanks to these bloody Americans.' But with Clark, it was almost as if he was saying, 'It doesn't matter what you are, man, because you are a minority.' "

The culmination of this first round of research was a 34-page interim report titled "A Proposal for a Comprehensive Programme Toward Racial Integration and Economic Equity," which was delivered to David Gibbons in January 1978. The report hailed the decision of the Bermuda government to authorise and embark on the project as an "example of wise and farsighted government planning." The riots that followed the hangings in early December 1977 "made this decision [to hire CPC&H to investigate the racial problems in Bermuda] seem almost weirdly prophetic." The Gibbons government, the report suggests, was prescient and ahead of the curve in addressing racial issues in Bermuda.

The disturbances of December 1977 escalated and intensified the urgency for government to react. They removed the appearance of total tranquillity in Bermuda, and, stated the interim report, "revealed an underlying reality of racial resentments and latent seething unrest which are as much a part of the reality of Bermuda as its idyllic climate and its dependence on tourism." Government, which might have planned to take a more conservative and measured approach toward making changes in the structure of the country, had been pushed into high gear. Government - and Gibbons - had to react.

The Bermudian population, according to the first Clark Report, had become more politicised, and creeping change would no longer be tolerated. The reason? "A decisive percentage of black Bermudians have torn away the mask of passivity and acceptance of the past," read the report, "and are now expressing an assertive demand for change."

But these changes must, the Clark Report repeatedly stressed, occur peacefully; the extremely sensitive tourist-based economy demanded it. "Continued tensions and conflicts - and certainly, violence - threaten the basic foundations of Bermuda and, therefore, are detrimental to all Bermudians without regard to party affiliation, economic status, or race and colour," read the report.

It was within these parameters - rapid, significant changes to occur in a peaceful, observable way - that the Clark Report examined Bermuda. It addressed the current situations in business (including economic development, the distribution of wealth, and small-business development), criminal justice, education, housing, social services, and social, cultural, and youth programmes. These observations and conclusions were culled from interviews and research, and accompanied by specific recommendations for the government and community to follow.

(It is significant to note the similarities and differences here between the work of Kenneth Clark and Lord Pitt. Most significant was their different mandates and time frames. Pitt, a royal appointment who was brought to Bermuda for six weeks of hearings, was to examine the underlying causes of the riots and to make recommendations "to set things right." Clark, a UBP appointment who worked in Bermuda over the span of three years, was "to achieve more meaningful integration of the races and a more equitable distribution of wealth of the community." They did, however, address similar areas; their work covered much of the same territory. Both Pitt and Clark looked at and cited the need for reform in employment, housing, immigration, and the justice system. However, the Pitt Commission, being a Crown-appointed, nonpartisan body, examined political, constitutional, and electoral questions as well. Both the Clark and the Pitt reports acknowledged the work of the other, referring positively to the other as "working together" towards similar goals. Ultimately, both reports stressed the need to address these issues, not only to avoid further disturbances but to build a more egalitarian, biracial society in Bermuda.)

The Clark Report clearly articulated that it was not offering "a utopian programme" for Bermuda. Instead, "it is pragmatic." Bermuda must seek acceptable economic changes and progress toward unqualified racial justice, the report implored, through the pragmatic cooperation of both races at all levels of the social and economic system. "If this cannot be accomplished in Bermuda," the report forewarned, "rational and humane racial justice and equity is not likely to be obtained anywhere else in the world."

One word appeared repeatedly in the Clark Report: "perception." The report emphasised how problems in Bermuda were "perceived" to exist and how problems of perception were really at the root of many conflicts. Some examples of the problems of "perception" [italics have been added]:

"Black Bermudians described a number of specific forms of economic and employment disparities which are perceived, and resented, as forms of pervasive racial discrimination";
"their perception that they are being treated in a racially discriminatory manner"; and
"Historically, blacks tend to see the police and the courts and the prisons as symbols and instruments of white domination. This perception seems so deep as to persist even when the facts are to the contrary."

The Clark Report suggested addressing these "perceptions" by conducting studies in various areas to investigate the factual truths behind the perceptions. Premier David Gibbons, however, took another route to address them.

"I learned one great thing about people from Kenneth Clark," remembered Sir David. "Sometimes you can't understand why people react one way, or take a position which is at variance with the facts. And Kenneth Clark said this wonderful thing: 'People's feelings, grievances, and perceptions - be they real or imagined - are as good as fact.' "

In other words, a politician can't just say "you're wrong" to the segment of the population that perceives a problem, then supply the facts and expect the electorate to accept and go along with his word. "You have to find out why the individual thinks that way, and this is where polling comes in," he explained. "Because then you can address these misconceptions and correct them."

Four months into his term as Premier, David Gibbons took the first step of combining the advice, experience, and wisdom of two American consultants. On the social/racial front, he hired social psychologist Kenneth Clark. On the political front, he turned to political consultant David Garth.

From day one of his premiership, Gibbons, the banker and international businessman, knew he wanted guidance in the political sphere. So he asked an American friend who lived in Bermuda, movie producer Arthur Rankin of Rankin Bass Productions, for advice. Rankin suggested hiring a media consultant, and got a list from the ABC-TV publicity department. Gibbons travelled to Washington, D.C., and New York City to interview candidates.

He felt an immediate rapport with David Garth. Garth, who was based in New York, had by this time already done more than 50 political campaigns. His list of prominent clients was long: Mayor of New York City John Lindsay; Governor of New York Hugh Carey; Governor of New Jersey Brendan Byrne; thrice-elected Mayor of Los Angeles Tom Bradley; Adlai Stevenson, the senator from Illinois, to name just a few. Garth had recently entered the international arena, consulting on campaigns in Israel, Venezuela, Colombia, and Puerto Rico.

David Garth pitched a simple message to Premier David Gibbons: find out what people's priorities are and then decide what government can do to implement them.

"You've got to understand one thing," Sir David remembered Garth saying in their first meeting. "I'm not only interested in helping you with this coming election, I'm always interested in your winning your next election, too."

"Oh?" asked the Premier.

"Yes," replied Garth. "I don't want you to win an election, then have you fail to deliver on your promises, and then not win the one thereafter."

Recalled Sir David: "It was that sort of wisdom and philosophical approach that I liked about David Garth."

Garth remembered a similar like-mindedness and respect for the new Premier of Bermuda. Gibbons' approach to politics was straightforward. "Look: I know business, and I know the country," Gibbons told Garth. "I don't know how to do political campaigns. You're the expert. You tell me what to do, and I'll ask you questions why."

Gibbons understood that in politics he would be challenged in many ways and on many different fronts. His success in business would not, he knew, necessarily translate into success in politics. Garth was here to help him in the political arena. "I think I was hired because he was going into unsure and unsafe waters, he knew it, and he had never been there before in his life," said Garth. Politics is one of the few places in the Western world where a person has to go out in the middle of the arena and literally put it on the line, explained Garth. "You go before the audience, and they go 'thumbs up' or 'thumbs down,' " he said. "It's very, very traumatic, ego-wise."

This may explain why most successful people do not enter politics. The power associated with business success is buffered. Executives in the private sector are generally protected from the reactions and opinions of the rank and file.

But in politics, success and failure - in fact, every move - is in public and open to criticism from every individual. "If Gibbons had screwed up, the country would have screwed up, and he would be blamed," said Garth.

"It was not a smart move personally for David Gibbons, for his career, and for his life, to take on that public front," continued Garth. Why, then, did he do it? Why did he risk his prestige in the community? Garth felt that David Gibbons had two motivations: enlightened self-interest and caring. "If Bermuda did well, he would do well," explained Garth. "And he cared so much about the country, and he genuinely cared about the biracial society."

If a biracial society could work anywhere in the world, Gibbons, Clark, and Garth believed it was in Bermuda. Bermuda was a wealthy country with a very educated populace. "If a biracial society could work here," said Garth, "the idea was that this could be something to model."

In Bermuda, it was the quintessential enemy - the white oligarchy in the symbolic form of David Gibbons - that was moving toward the middle, and most importantly, reaching out to the black population⁵⁸. In fact, the main goal of the premiership of David Gibbons, according to David Garth, "was to get as many people, black and white, involved as we could.... The whole reason why Kenneth Clark was there and the reason why we ran the campaign the way we did was to use politics as a bridge between the races."

WHEN POLITICAL consultant David Garth arrived in Bermuda in January 1978, he felt a tension bubbling just beneath the surface. "You could sense it in the air," he remembered. "There was a carry-over from the hangings: people were a little bit distant, a little bit too polite, a little bit too careful with each other.

"And that tension gave us the urgency to do something," said Garth.

What to do? Bermuda was still recovering from the trauma of the hangings and the riots. The Premier had his ideas for how to heal. His cabinet had other ideas. And individual Bermudians had theirs. To cut through all these various opinions, Garth's first move was to conduct polls. "In all fairness, nobody has a clue what people want until they take a really good poll," said Garth.

Garth's approach was to use polling as a tool to understand what Bermuda felt, as well as a tool to understand what government should do. "David Gibbons understood this the same way that he understood a company - you need to do an analysis of your audience and your marketplace," explained Garth. By implementing polling, the politician could avoid those issues that would be politically disastrous. He could also be moved toward a politically beneficial plan of action.

In June 1978, David Garth hired a pair of young pollsters to conduct the polls. Mark Penn immediately impressed Premier David Gibbons. "He's literally a human computer," Gibbons remembered. Penn's expertise was in writing computer programmes that were complete with checks and balances, so that if a respondent contradicted himself, his entire set of answers would be discarded from the poll.

His partner, Douglas Schoen, had an equally impressive and broad curriculum vitae for such a young man: he graduated from Harvard College, had studied at Oxford, and was in the middle of Harvard Law School. "There was a sense that I understood both American politics and British politics," said Douglas Schoen. This background was useful for the work Gibbons had undertaken in Bermuda: while grounded historically and politically in the parliamentary system of the United Kingdom, Bermuda was beginning to use the methodologies of the American political arena under David Gibbons' leadership. "I wanted Schoen in Bermuda," said Garth, "because I felt he might have some good ideas, and he might see something in the numbers that I missed."

The Bermuda that Schoen first encountered in June 1978 was "closer to the American South circa 1968 than America 1978," Schoen remembered. "People made comments about blacks that were, frankly speaking, insensitive or worse." In terms of social trends, Schoen also noted that alcoholism and over-consumption of tobacco, which had begun to leave the mainstream in America, were still widespread in Bermuda. Politically, the Progressive Labour Party was clearly socialist, a working-class party with elements that were sympathetic to Cuba; the United Bermuda Party was fractionalised and divided. Economically, the bulk of the business in Bermuda came from tourism, and the insurance industry was "really sort of sleepy," said Schoen. "It was a cloistered little island at that point.

"Even survey research - polling - was considered a shock," recounted Schoen.

Penn and Schoen conducted the first polls in July 1978. Telephones were set up in the clerical offices of the Bank of N.T. Butterfield & Son, of which Premier David Gibbons had been a director and deputy chairman. Schoen was surprised by the venue: "Could you imagine walking into a Chase Bank and saying, 'We want to make outside telephone calls for an outside company'? They'd look at you as if you should have your head examined," recounted Schoen. "It was just a sort of mom-and-pop world."

This mom-and-pop world was not, however, welcoming and friendly towards anonymous telephone interviews. Bermudians greeted the calls with vocal hostility. Residents were angered by "late-night questioning," and complained to The Royal Gazette, which immediately launched an inquiry. A front-page story ran under the title, "Who Ordered the 'Sinister' Survey?"⁵⁹:

The Police Commissioner, government, the UBP, and the Progressive Labour Party early yesterday denied knowledge of the survey. Most condemned it.
Indeed, Government said no Immigration permission had been granted for the survey, and the police commissioner called in Special Branch.
It was only after a cabinet meeting had discussed the mystery poll and a mini-inquiry by government agents that it became clear much later in the day that the survey had been ordered at the very highest levels of government or the UBP.

The article identified Penn & Schoen Associates as the American pollsters who had hired "a team of girls" to ask questions "from an unknown location in Bermuda."⁶⁰ Six hundred to 800 residents were "interrogated" with more than 80 questions on topics such as the interviewees' views on political figures, the December hangings, Government policies, income tax, small businesses, and bank directorships. Interviewees were also queried on their race, religion, income, and political allegiances.⁶¹

The following day, The Royal Gazette reported that the Premier, David Gibbons, ordered the UBP survey without consultation with party officers and cabinet members, instead consulting only a handful of advisers. A strong sense of indignation ran throughout the news report.

The Royal Gazette's liberal use of negative language - "sinister," "scheme," "interrogated," to name just a few - reflected Bermudians' suspicious stance toward polling and telephone surveys.

Despite the population's hostile reaction, this first poll was a watershed event in Bermudian politics. The political machine was now under the influence and spell of survey research. In the results, the politicians could see the political road signs put up by the population.

The results of the poll were greatly anticipated. For example, the UBP, once it cooled down from its initial outrage at being kept out of the loop, decided to postpone its summer party conference until after the results were released.⁶²

Premier Gibbons called the survey a "very successful enterprise," and revealed that the UBP planned to commission more telephone surveys. In a statement announcing the end of the "controversial poll," Gibbons said: "It is most important for us to clearly understand those issues that are on the minds of Bermudians, and to determine those issues on a firsthand basis.... The only way to make those determinations is to conduct a poll on such a basis that all groups are represented in the proper proportions."⁶³

"SO - BINGO - we did this first poll, and everybody was astonished," remembered Sir David. "The priorities that came out of the polls were markedly different than anyone had expected."

In cabinet meetings held before the Penn & Schoen polls, Premier Gibbons looked to his colleagues to help him set priorities for his government. Gibbons remembered that many members pointed to the book published in 1973, Black Clubs in Bermuda: Ethnography of a Play World, by anthropologist Frank E. Manning. In Black Clubs, cabinet members found an argument that funding for black sports clubs should be near the top of priorities for government. "And when we did the first poll, black clubs were so far down the line, it was a joke," recounted Sir David. "About three percent [of those polled] wanted to support black clubs, while 29 percent wanted effort put toward education and 27 percent for the elderly. It was absolutely farcical. I was astounded, and I think even David Garth was surprised."

Indeed, Garth was surprised. He remembered that the cabinet's proposals were solid and logical. But when the results of the polls prioritised the issues, Garth was also shocked at how far away from knowing the voters the cabinet was. "It wasn't very close," Garth said. "It wasn't by one point."

Polling, then, provided Premier Gibbons and his cabinet with a clear road map showing which direction to lead Bermuda in. Polling set some guidelines: if they were going to spend precious political power, effort, and sweat equity on a few select issues, the polls guided them to the issues that Bermudians cared about greatly. From that point onward, Gibbons and his cabinet chose their targets carefully.

The political consultants who worked with David Gibbons saw how the polling methodology resonated with the Premier's personality. This analytical and evaluative approach to people and politics was clearly right up his alley. It gave Gibbons the businessman hard numbers to work with and Gibbons the politician a clear mandate to move ahead in the directions that Bermudians wanted their country to go.

"He used to memorise the polls," remembered pollster Douglas Schoen. "He would take the numbers as statistical truth rather than as a guide to action. For example, if 53 percent of Bermudians wanted more housing, his thinking was: we should get it for them. That was his approach. He didn't say, 'This is terrible, and I feel for the people who are living in back-of-town.' Instead it was, 'There's a prescription for us to follow.' He would literally sit down and read the polls to develop an agenda."

The polls also removed some of the personality- and ego-driven aspects of politics. Remembered Garth: "David liked polls because so much of politics is sitting around the cabinet or the living room or the lodge, having a couple of drinks, and one guy saying, 'I think...,' and another guy saying, 'I know a guy in my neighbourhood who thinks...,' and another saying, 'No, no, no.' They mean well, but people are just talking off the top of their heads." With polls, Gibbons could point to hard numbers, no longer relying solely on his peers' and cabinet's political instincts. And by doing this, Garth argued that "it started to make a transition from clubhouse b.s. to political reality in a sense that political reality matters in people's lives."

Armed with the polling data, Gibbons then met with Kenneth Clark to produce ways to incorporate the two agendas - the social goal of achieving a more meaningful integration of the races and more equitable distribution of the wealth of the community, and the political goal of getting more people involved in the political system. The result of melding these aims was eventually called the Bermuda Plan. "The Bermuda Plan," explained Sir David, "was a compendium of all the things rising out of Kenneth Clark's discussions and David Garth's analysis of Penn & Schoen's polling."

THE BERMUDA Plan was an umbrella term for the amalgamation of the political agenda with the social agenda - a blueprint of what was going to happen under David Gibbons' leadership. It was never a document per se. Instead, it was the new approach to governing Bermuda that evolved throughout the four years that David Gibbons was Premier.

The seeds of the Bermuda Plan - the issues and problems to be addressed by the Gibbons government - were found in the first Clark Report, which was delivered to the Premier in January 1978. After his thorough research, Clark articulated what he believed should be the main areas of focus for the Gibbons government. The objective, again, was to "achieve a more meaningful integration of the races and more equitable distribution of the wealth of the community." Clark pointed to ten areas to be addressed by the Gibbons government to achieve that goal:

1. Employment of black Bermudians in managerial and supervisory positions
2. Problems of financing small-business enterprises
3. Increasing the number and percentage of black Bermudians in policy-making positions
4. Criminal justice system
5. Elementary, secondary, and higher education
6. Housing
7. Specific professional and vocational training programmes
8. Health and social services
9. Social, cultural, recreational, and youth programmes
10. Reorganisation of the Bermuda Race Relations Council.

The report then offered specific findings and recommendations for each area.

The first poll of June 1978 most likely confirmed Clark's findings and pointed the direction for the government to go in. Unfortunately, these actual polls cannot be found today. In fact, it is likely that they were destroyed. "A couple of the polls were so sensitive," explained Sir David, "that David Garth insisted there was only one copy, which was carefully kept under lock and key in a safe in my office, and then was later destroyed." Still, the second poll, which was conducted in January 1979, narrowed the scope, message, and agenda of the Gibbons government. Subsequent polls focused on developing UBP candidates for future elections.

Armed, then, with Clark's research, the polling statistics, and above all his vision of a biracial society, Premier Gibbons now had a clear agenda. Gibbons himself heartily believed in a biracial society and had hired consultants to aid him in creating a pragmatic plan to make it a reality. The polls confirmed that, for the most part, Bermuda, too, was committed to a biracial society. But how to get the message across to the people of Bermuda that Gibbons planned to achieve this goal?

The decision was to use the Throne Speech to unveil the new plan for Bermuda. This annual speech was delivered by the Governor at the convening of Parliament, much like the speech Queen Elizabeth delivers to Parliament in London each year. And although the Throne Speech was delivered by a representative of Her Majesty's government, it was, for all intents and purposes, a political speech for the local community. In terms of content, the speech was composed completely by Premier David Gibbons and his advisers; the Governor, Sir Peter Ramsbotham, added brief personal statements of thanks and observations to the opening and closing of the speech.

The Throne Speech delivered by Sir Peter Ramsbotham on Friday, October 27, 1978, was strong, earnest, and assertive. Gravitas and weight permeated the entire speech, heralding a commitment to change and an active government. The rhetoric was solid and serious. The speech clearly intended to usher in a new era of responsible, responsive government. Said the Governor to the convened members:

Parliament stands on the threshold of what promises to be one of the most significant sessions in the history of Bermuda. Government is fully conscious of its responsibility to provide for the total well-being of all Bermudians. The challenge before Government is great. Government intends to accomplish its goals with a well-prepared, overall plan.

Therein lay the seedling of what would become the Bermuda Plan - the "well-prepared, overall plan."

What this speech seemed to have lacked in terms of accessibility, it made up for with its seriousness of purpose. "It is the intention of government," the Governor continued to the members of the Legislature, "to press forward and to attain greater accomplishments in such general areas as education, the elderly, housing, economic development, equality of economic opportunity, and the needy."

In this list, Kenneth Clark's influence can be seen. Indeed, there is a nod to the psychologist and his work in the Throne Speech: "It is fully expected that the valuable and specific recommendations for action already received from Dr. Kenneth Clark will be extremely important to shape that plan [for the further development of our country]." The remainder of the speech specified how various social issues would be addressed, and continued in the same declarative, vigorous tone.

The Throne Speech of 1978 sent a clear, streamlined message to the Bermudian population that Premier Gibbons intended to tackle social issues and problems head-on. The speech, and the programme contained within it, seemed to be extremely well received. The speech was hailed by The Royal Gazette as a "blueprint for progress and social good."⁶⁴

It is interesting to compare the Throne Speeches of 1977 and 1978, and note evidence of how quickly the Gibbons government learned to respond and react to the needs of Bermuda. In the 1977 Throne Speech, the Gibbons government painted a rosy portrait. The speech never referred to or acknowledged the upcoming hangings, which brought to a head the racial tensions that were brewing under the polite surface. In fact, all seemed well on the island of Bermuda - at least that is the image this speech projects.

"The people of Bermuda can indeed be proud of the accomplishments of this small island," the new Governor, Sir Peter Ramsbotham, read to the House of Assembly on October 28, 1977. "The healthy situation in which Bermuda finds itself is undoubtedly a result of the efforts of everyone working together to develop a first-class reputation for efficiency, friendliness, and good service."

"Healthy situation"? "Working together"? "Friendliness"? This is an example of how out of touch government was to the state of being in Bermuda, just over a month before the riots erupted.

In the same speech, the hierarchy of priorities seemed not well thought out either. For example, paragraph 15 of the 1977 Throne Speech discussed "the troublesome problem of stray dogs." Paragraph 16 discussed the new educational philosophy. It would be crude to surmise from this that stray dogs were a higher priority than education. But this example illuminated where David Gibbons started as Premier in 1977, and how much he grew as Premier in 1978. In terms of political sophistication and clarity of agenda, Premier David Gibbons' growth in one brief year was immense.

THE CORNERSTONE for the Bermuda Plan had been laid down in the Throne Speech of 1978. Now it was time to hand over the reins to Premier David Gibbons and his cabinet so they could get to the work of government and begin implementing these changes.

Gibbons was an intense, purpose-minded Premier. "He didn't suffer fools gladly," said Mike Winfield. "He ran a tight, business-oriented, results-oriented ship."

Meetings with the Premier were brisk and efficient. Coffee was never served in any meeting where the Premier was present. ("It slowed things down," explained Sir David.) Most photographs from that era depict the Premier as serious, intense, thoughtful, earnest, and always, it seemed, in motion.

Dr. James King, who was a supporter of Gibbons, described the Premier's approach as positive and resourceful. "David's attitude was very clear: 'If it's wrong, we'll change it.' And to his cabinet members, he said, 'Don't bring me a sob story. If you can't do something, tell me why you can't, and let's see what resources you require for doing it, so that we can get on with it.' "

That was the tenor of the premiership of David Gibbons: "These are the areas we need to address. Now, let's find a way to do it," was the unspoken, underlying thinking. To accomplish their goals, it was almost as if Kenneth Clark presented the Premier with a clipboard every year or so. On that clipboard, Clark would have written a list of ingrained, complex problems concerning integration of the races and distribution of wealth in the community. Gibbons then made it his mission to address each issue as expediently and effectively as possible.

For example, the first finding and recommendation discussed in the initial Clark Report of January 1978 was about the discrimination against black Bermudians in business. Young black Bermudians insisted that they were discriminated against when they applied for white-collar managerial and supervisory jobs in banks, insurance companies, and hotels, the report stated. Some of these young people stated that despite their seeking higher education and training abroad, when they returned to Bermuda and applied for positions consistent with their training, they were rejected, and these positions were given to white non-Bermudians. At higher levels in business, "there is a pitiable small percentage of blacks in policy-making and executive positions in Bermuda-based corporations," read the Clark Report. Banks, insurance companies, and large retail stores had few black Bermudians on their boards of directors, and some companies had no blacks in these positions.

To address these entrenched, exclusionary problems, Clark recommended that the government of Bermuda - the Premier and the appropriate members of his cabinet - arrange meetings with chairmen of the boards and chief executive officers of corporations doing business in Bermuda. Clark suggested that government use these meetings to encourage the companies to develop and implement plans to increase the number of black Bermudians on their boards and the number of black managers, officers, and executives. If these plans were not voluntarily developed within a year or two, Clark recommended that government enact "the necessary legislation to obtain these objectives."

Gibbons took Clark's advice, and carried out the recommendations in the way he thought would be most effective in Bermuda. He surmised that formal meetings and the threat of legislation would alienate the heads of companies: it would force them into a defensive, intransigent posture, rather than encouraging them to open up to change.

So Gibbons, generally a formal man, took a more casual approach, one that he knew the Bermudian business culture would be more receptive to.

"When I went to lunches at the banks and law firms or I met with senior managers of insurance companies," remembered Sir David, "I would preach the gospel according to Kenneth Clark." Sir David knew the best way in was through casual exhortation. "I'd say to them, 'Gentlemen, what can you do?' " In other words, will you begin to include more blacks in the upper echelons and supervisory positions in your organisations?

Here was one of the benefits to having Gibbons as Premier. His prestigious position in Bermuda's business community gave him direct access to the highest reaches of power. He was, in fact, part of that elite group; he was one of them. It was in the innermost circles, then, that the Premier could promote his agenda.

Premier Gibbons had cabinet members handle other issues with similar expediency and results. Another example of government working in concert with Kenneth Clark was with discrimination in the tendering of government contracts. Black contractors complained that all the government contracts were allocated among a select group of white, mainly UBP-supporting contractors⁶⁵; none of the contractors that won bids was black. Clark arranged for a meeting between the contractors and Minister of Works and Agriculture Ralph Marshall in which grievances were aired. Then, in January 1979, Marshall announced an amendment to the Tendering Procedure for Public Works: Bermuda's largest contractors would no longer be permitted to bid on projects worth less than $350,000.⁶⁶ In addition, all bids on government projects - construction and supplies, for example - would be opened in public, thereby eliminating any appearances of underhanded favouritism.⁶⁷ Kenneth Clark and Ralph Marshall worked together to identify the problems, open communication, and execute the changes in a manner that best suited the Bermudian culture.

Education is one area where one can see how the expertise of Kenneth Clark and David Garth was interwoven with the work of David Gibbons, the government, and ministers. Together they wanted to create and enact the Bermuda Plan on a large, interconnected scale.

First, the initial Clark Report, delivered in January 1978 (before Garth was hired), clearly stated that education should be a major priority for Premier David Gibbons. This was urgent, because "the educational system is not now perceived by the majority of black Bermudians as an instrument of upward mobility for them and their children." Elementary and secondary education in Bermuda, the Clark Report stated, were "perceived at best as adequate." Additionally, those who were less well educated were overwhelmingly black.

The report offered specific recommendations to ameliorate these problems: increasing the budget of the department of education; evaluating the Bermudian school system; and improving dramatically the quality of education and physical plant of the Bermuda College.

Second, Penn & Schoen conducted the first polls in June 1978, five months after the first Clark Report was released. These polls reflected that education was at the top of the list of priorities among the Bermudian populace.

And third, the Throne Speech, written with the help of political consultant David Garth and his associates, was delivered in October 1978. It addressed the issues of education and upward mobility in strong, committed, forthright language:

Government will do everything in its power further to enhance the upward mobility of all its people (paragraph 5).... Government places maximum emphasis on education because it recognises that the future of Bermuda rests in the hands of young people, and that only a sound education will enable them to realise the goals of the future. Further, education is the key to upward mobility, and the very foundation of a solid democracy (paragraph 7).... A complete evaluation of all aspects of the local educational system will be undertaken by a team of external evaluators (paragraph 19).... A number of tuition-free places at the Bermuda College will be provided by government (paragraph 20).... The first phase of construction of a unified Bermuda College campus will begin shortly (paragraph 21)....

Thus the Gibbons government laid down the framework for improving the quality and accessibility of education in Bermuda.

Government was not, however, making changes in education in a vacuum. Permanent Secretary of Education Mansfield Brock was already hard at work. Brock shared Dr. Kenneth Clark's vision, and the two worked together quite closely. "Dr. Clark felt that, clearly, the answer to upward mobility in any society is educational achievement," said Brock. "And he felt that there should be an equality of educational opportunity for all people. That was his main focus."

Education was Brock's focus, too. An extremely energetic man who had high ambitions for the Bermudian educational system, Brock was the first chief executive officer of the Bermuda College. He had also conceived of an Educational Philosophy for Bermuda, articulating objectives and goals for the country's educational system. Brock had consulted teachers, principals, parents, students, and the business community, all of whom participated in the philosophy's creation. This document so impressed Dr. Kenneth Clark that Clark sent copies of Bermuda's Educational Philosophy to the School of Education at Harvard University, to show that educational philosophies were not just academic exercises.

In 1976, Brock had been appointed permanent secretary of education and he immediately shook the system up. He fired teachers whose students were not performing. He put a ceiling on the number of students per classroom. He hired outside consultants to evaluate Bermudian schools. He announced a plan to standardise the curriculum.⁶⁸

He also found ways to increase the number of university awards - gifts for education based on financial need and academic achievement. For example, by eliminating bus transportation for primary school students to take field trips to the aquarium, Brock created six more university awards. Then he went to Gibbons and the cabinet to ask for more.

"I need more money," he said in the meeting. "This is not good enough."

The Premier replied, "Well, who increased the awards from six to 12?"

"I did," said Brock, defensively. He assumed his decision was being questioned. "I took money from kids in nursery school for busses. I figured the parents would do it."

"I'm not attacking you," said the Premier. "I'm saying, why stop at an additional six awards? Why not do as many as are needed?"

To Brock, this exchange was significant. It conveyed Gibbons' deep commitment to education. Gibbons would, Brock saw then, really put his money where his mouth was. "And that to me was a revelation," remembered Brock. "This guy was saying, 'You take care of children's post-secondary education.' "

Gibbons' dedication to education may have come as a surprise to Mansfield Brock, but, in fact, the Premier had long been committed and involved. He served on the board of education from 1960 to 1973. Before that, he was chairman of the Bermuda Technical Institute. Gibbons was also the first chairman of the Bermuda College and extremely involved in and integral to its founding in 1974.

Bermuda College was created by combining three post-secondary schools that existed on the island: the Technical Institute, the Hotel College, and the Academic Sixth Form Centre. The goal was to create under one roof a college that served the entire community and was able to "respond quickly to the ever-changing local demands for skilled manpower. It follows from this that a high priority must be placed on the provision of training for the hospitality industry and for business."⁶⁹ Some students attended to gain job skills; others to train for skills for the hotel industry, to fill jobs within this important sector of the Bermudian economy. Still other students attended Bermuda College in order to complete the first two years of their undergraduate studies before going on to finish their degrees overseas. Finally, working professionals attended to gain additional job skills and certificates.

Those were the goals of Bermuda College. In 1977, 19 students were placed abroad in American, Canadian, and British institutions. "In the early days," said Dr. George Cooke, current president of Bermuda College, "placements were essentially done student by student, institution by institution, case by case."

In 1978, land was purchased on the beach in Paget for the construction of a 68-bedroom training hotel for the Department of Hotel Technology. That same year, the first phase of construction of a unified Bermuda College campus also began. And in 1979, the Bermuda College held its first formal commencement exercises. More than 100 students graduated. Degrees were awarded in academic studies (these students would then transfer overseas to finish their degrees); job skills - bookkeeping, secretarial skills, clerical skills, automotive mechanics, electrical installation, refrigeration and air-conditioning, and building construction; and hotel technology - management, front-office reception, and catering craft.⁷⁰ At the graduation ceremony Premier David Gibbons made this announcement:

No single issue has greater priority for our government [than education].... So let us reiterate our pledge to the people of Bermuda: We will educate our young. We will educate them regardless of economic condition, of race, or of gender. We will educate them regardless of their background or initial aptitude. We will assure basic proficiency in basic skills.⁷¹

The Premier also pledged that no Bermudian child would be deprived of an education because of financial need: "Government scholarships and private awards now ensure admission for all qualified students in financial need."⁷² This announcement marked the beginning of the availability of Bermuda government ten-year interest-free education loans. "We would guarantee," explained Mansfield Brock, "that if a student went as far as he could at the Bermuda College and he still needed two more years to complete the degree, he could do it with a ten-year interest-free loan."

Since its founding in 1974, it has become routine for Bermuda College students to transfer with two years' full standing to many international universities. The Bermuda College has sent students to most of the Ivy League universities and other prestigious American colleges such as William & Mary and Bryn Mawr; the London School of Economics and a number of universities in Britain; Queens University in Ontario and many other universities in Canada. Rhodes Scholarships have been awarded to four students who completed at least one year at Bermuda College.

In 1998, 780 students were enrolled in a full-time programme of study, working toward an associate's degree or a certificate from the College, which is more employment-oriented. Bermuda College President Dr. George Cooke pointed to the 3,500 part-time students as one of the institution's most important achievements. "This constitutes 11 to 12 percent of the labour force," he explained. "It's one of the highest participating labour forces in the world, and maybe the highest. If you really want to understand Bermuda College, you really have to come at night to see this. Hundreds of people coming here, looking for a means to upgrade their skills so that they can participate more effectively in this economy." Recent shifts in enrollment in courses and degrees at Bermuda College reflect the changes in the Bermudian economy: enrollment in hospitality courses and technical courses is down, while enrollment in insurance studies is up. "I always argue that Bermuda College is the single most important social institution because of the impact it has on the labour force," said Dr. Cooke. "It facilitates upward mobility for people in the labour force, and it provides access for people who, 25 years ago, never had that opportunity."

Mansfield Brock had his eye on the bigger picture of education in Bermuda. He succinctly summed up the advancements in education that occurred during the premiership of David Gibbons. "The Bermuda Plan was heavily weighted toward education and upward mobility for people for whom upward mobility was only a dream in the past," said Brock. "It contained a lot of good stuff."

A SECOND poll, conducted in January 1979, underscored and reinforced the direction of the Bermuda Plan. These polls indicated that government should address itself to the following problems: aid to the elderly (27 percent of those polled citing the elderly as a priority); education (20 percent); crime (15 percent); economic development (13 percent); and housing (11 percent).

The strategy developed at that time was that the government and the United Bermuda Party would work in tandem to address these five categories. By doing so, they would touch all the basic areas of concern and demonstrate that they were moving forward, progressing on things that meant something to the people.⁷³

This plan of action emanated from political consultant David Garth's office on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. His strategy was to get information out to the people, to broadcast the plans of the Gibbons government, which were created with the help of Kenneth Clark and polling information. The goal was to have the Throne Speech of 1978 - and all the commitments made therein - become synonymous with the Bermuda Plan. "We would like to see the Bermuda Plan become a catchphrase in which all citizens can immediately identify the phrase with a 'blueprint for progress.' "⁷⁴

Garth encouraged Gibbons, his cabinet, and party members to take every opportunity to refer to the Throne Speech, and to underscore any and all progress made on Throne Speech commitments. "Each and every member of the cabinet, and each and every ranking member of the UBP should, at every opportunity... whether in public or in private... discuss the Throne Speech and the commitments contained therein."⁷⁵ Under Garth's guidance, the UBP's message was consistent and direct.

Premier Gibbons gave a speech on January 5, 1979, that drove that point home with resounding impact. The Royal Gazette, which, from the perspective of the political consultants, often wrote sour and sometimes negative editorials, hailed this speech for taking up "the theme of social reform, integration, advancement of Bermudians, and the general good of the country in a way it has never been expressed before.... The Premier's speech was an elaboration on the Throne Speech's blueprint for progress and national good, [and] has now become the rallying cry of the UBP and the Gibbons government."⁷⁶

The strategy was working: in the intervening six months between polls, the electorate's satisfaction with government's performance had increased five percent, which Garth's colleague Ron Maiorana called "a very strong indicator that the Bermuda electorate is coming to perceive government as leading the country in the right direction." Government's performance, the polls suggested, had improved by a margin of eight percent. Forty-seven percent of the electorate thought that government's performance had improved; 39 percent thought it had stayed the same; 11 percent thought government's performance had gotten worse; and two percent did not know. The 39 percent who thought there had been no movement upward was viewed as a good number. According to Ron Maiorana, it was an area where ground could be gained, in which "the field would be wide open to impact those voters."

The January 1979 polls revealed with a great degree of specificity how the voters in Bermuda were thinking and feeling about Gibbons and his government. A majority were not satisfied with how government handled problems: 59 percent believed that it dealt with issues from crisis to crisis, a number that had jumped 11 percent in the six months between polls. It must be taken into account that this was an extremely active period: the foundation of the Bermuda Plan was laid down, and problems arose in areas as diverse as the prison, a brewery, the Dockyard, and the unemployment benefits of hotel workers. All this, indeed, reinforced the crisis-to-crisis perception. To ameliorate this problem, Garth suggested preparing well in advance for handling issues that could become controversial.

The polls were also good indicators of what issues were political hot potatoes. For example, 66 percent of those polled disapproved of an increase in parliamentary salaries, saying the increase was unjustified. The advice from Garth and Maiorana was to steer clear of this topic: "The only apparent strategy is not to discuss the matter, and hope that it goes away."

A memorandum titled "Polling Strategy" from Ron Maiorana revealed the continuing presence and influence of Dr. Kenneth Clark in the political realm. In this particular situation, the UBP had appointed a new leader, Ward Young, who was white, and who also gave the UBP a young image. A second deputy needed to be appointed. Both consultants - political and social - weighed in with their opinions. Writes Maiorana:

In a conversation today with Dr. Clark, he expressed concern that the party might select "an old boy" rather than a relatively young black male. We agree with Dr. Clark's concern. The party would provide a better racial and age distribution if such a person as mentioned by Dr. Clark were named.... That would appeal to younger and middle-life blacks and provide a voice in the UBP politics of the "future." ⁷⁷

Gibbons took this advice to heart: he appointed Julian Hall, a young black lawyer, to the post. Gibbons cleaned house in the cabinet and appointed other young UBP blacks as ministers, and nary an "old boy" was to be seen in the Gibbons government.
THE MOST significant statistic to come out of the second poll was this: 81 percent of the electorate felt that government should do more to inform the public. This "astounding revelation," as the Garth Group memo read, "simply means that government has not properly geared itself to keep the public sufficiently informed." Government had been relying on news releases and news stories. These latest polling statistics revealed that what was called for now was a "precise programme of public relations."

David Garth and Ron Maiorana called this "Phase II." In "Phase I," Premier Gibbons, the cabinet, and the consultants had all been devoted to the "substance of matters in Bermuda," a memorandum of March 1, 1979, reads. "In a sense, we have come through and completed what could be described as Phase I. Now we enter into Phase II, which consists of making the public aware of what you have done and accomplished." Spreading the word: that was the new focus.

Since 46 percent of the people were unfamiliar with the increasingly important Throne Speech of 1978, each time there was anything positive to report on it, government was encouraged to "go hot and heavy in the media." This entailed members of the cabinet, the House of Assembly, and the UBP travelling around the island to discuss the Throne Speech and the Bermuda Plan. In town meetings and question-and-answer sessions, a dialogue between the UBP, government, and various constituencies of the electorate began.

David Garth also produced a public information programme aimed at the electorate to promote the Bermuda Plan. He flew in media consultants to prepare ministers and party officials for television appearances and interviews, and provided coaching, direction, and, occasionally, scripts for promotional television pieces. Maureen Connelley, who had worked on political campaigns in Pennsylvania, wrote press releases and prepped ministers for press conferences. Ron Maiorana, who was a 17-year-veteran reporter of The New York Times and had been Governor Nelson Rockefeller's press secretary, created strategies out of the polling data. "I think we really brought modern politics into Bermuda," said Garth.

The polls of January 1979 also quantified a problem that consultant David Garth had already foreseen: the strength of Premier David Gibbons' connection to the electorate.

The polls asked specific questions comparing the Premier with the leader of the Progressive Labour Party, Lois Browne-Evans. When rating who was more responsible and trustworthy, the Premier was perceived better, with 53 percent rating him more responsible than Lois Browne-Evans (who was chosen by 22 percent of those polled as more responsible), and 41 percent calling him more trustworthy, as compared to Browne-Evans' 27 percent.

However, Lois Browne-Evans was the leader when it came to quantifying people skills. She took the lead when those polled were asked who was more "in touch with people" (56 percent cited Evans as being "in touch," compared to Gibbons' 20 percent; 24 percent remained undecided) and who had greater warmth (Evans: 40 percent; Gibbons: 26 percent; undecided: 34 percent). In the face of these polling statistics, Ron Maiorana offered this advice:

To increase the perception of being in touch with people, the Premier must simply devote the time to moving around Bermuda, mixing with various elements of the society, and doing so with proper media notice. With respect to increasing his warmth favourability, the Premier must again be seen in public and with people, inside and outside his responsibilities as the leader of government. The two perceptions, warmth and in touch, go hand-in-hand.

These numbers were no great surprise to David Garth. He had spotted straight off that Gibbons was not, and would never be, a "man of the people."

"He's not a peacock," said Garth. "He's a white-collar guy with a blue-collar ethic. He works."

But Gibbons was a man whom Garth could be absolutely straight with. "One thing I liked about David from the beginning was you could tell him the truth," remembered Garth. "To most people, if you said, 'You shouldn't be out there campaigning because you're not very attractive to people, but your wife is terrific, so get her,' they would be crushed. But with Gibbons, he knew what he didn't know, and was secure enough to let other people take the stage from time to time. Also, he came from an area that was terribly important but nobody understood: finance. He had a hold on finance, and people trusted him there."

Garth remembered being taken aback when Gibbons did not bury what came to be called by Gibbons "the famous memo." In fact, he shared the information with his cabinet. "David Garth said, 'The Premier can never be presented as a man of the people,''' remembered Gibbons. "'However, the economy can be made to work. And we are now going to use Lully, and she can go around kissing babies.' "

Recounted Sir David: "Kissing strange little babies doesn't grab me, and Lady Gibbons doesn't mind that at all. In addition, there's a limit to the number of trades you can try. I have never tried to be a jack-of-all-trades. I'm an economist and a banker, and to try to pretend that I'm someone who's happy kissing babies would be so completely bogus."

Lully Gibbons, who is Norwegian and not Bermudian-born, had been involved in the Gibbons government from the beginning of Sir David's premiership. She spent the first year refurbishing "Camden," a house on the grounds of the Bermuda Botanical Gardens, into the Premier's official residence. (Official government functions had previously been held at the Princess Hotel.) It was Sir David's idea to raise the profile of the Bermudian government by housing and transporting government officials in grander style. Hence he moved the Premier's offices, which had been over the Post Office, into the Cabinet Building; the Premier from then on was driven in an official Morris Oxford with a flag flying; and, most importantly, "Camden," purchased from UBP founder Sir Henry Tucker, was made into the Premier's official residence.

"I was told to fix up 'Camden' and make it into a place where we could entertain," remembered Lady Gibbons. "And I think that was why I got such a high profile." The refurbishment took well over a year to complete. The Gibbons family also contributed Bermuda cedar to make the official government dining table.

"Camden" was put to constant use by the Gibbons government. Along with official functions, Lady Gibbons hosted many parties there: over the course of Sir David's premiership, 196 receptions for all the charitable organisations in Bermuda. "Lully had parties," remembered David Garth, "and people would kill each other to get there. She didn't play the part of Lady Bountiful; she really knew people. They liked her, and they loved it."

Lully Gibbons became, in a way, the public face of the Gibbons government. Along with the parties, she did much of the public relations work. She visited all the nursery schools on the island with Ernest Vesey, the minister of education. Nearly every day, she attended funerals, fund-raisers, parties, schools, clubs, or dinners. She visited the hospital at Christmas with the Governor. The Royal Gazette wrote articles about Lully Gibbons with Lady Ramsbotham learning how to do CPR and doing headstands in yoga class.

Lully Gibbons came to be universally adored on the island. She was beautiful, young, glamorous, and warm. Across the political spectrum, Bermudians responded to Lully Gibbons - they couldn't help themselves.

"She worked really hard," recounted David L. White, editor of The Royal Gazette. "You'd see David charging ahead, paying no attention, and Lully would stay behind chatting, kissing, shaking hands. She warmed him up. And she became a figure in her own right."

Lully Gibbons attributed her popularity to basic personality differences. "I think Sir David is simply not interested - he does his own thing," said Lady Gibbons. "I actually am very interested in hearing what people do and what makes them tick. I just admire people enormously."

David Garth gave her much more credit than simply her innate interest in people. He remembered Lady Gibbons as being very smart, critical, and savvy, as well as disarmingly charming. Most meetings Garth had with Gibbons took place by the fireplace in the library at the Gibbons's home, and Lady Gibbons, generally, was present. "She was very free and very critical," said Garth. "And I would rather have her know as much as possible, answer any questions that she had, so that she could be there 24 hours a day to support David. Plus the fact that we wanted her to go outside and be part of the public front. Otherwise, if the mate in that position is not tuned in, they feel like they're being used, that they're not important, that they're a prop. And she was no prop.

"People say that candidates' wives don't matter," Garth continued. "I think that they do matter, and the smaller the country, the more they matter. So Lully was the real reason for them winning; I'm not even sure we realised it at the time." (Sir John Plowman, who was chairman of the UBP at the time, would have agreed with this statement.)

Lully Gibbons' popularity enormously enhanced David Gibbons' premiership. But over time, Gibbons himself became a political success almost because he portrayed himself as the anti-politician. "I think he became a very good politician by not having to apologise for his lack of political polish," said Garth. "He'd say, 'I know I'm not a pretty face,' and it became kind of charming, like the very beautiful woman who says, 'I wish I was prettier.' "

"David has charm by denying he has charm," concluded Garth, "and Lully has charm because she was born with it."
ONCE THE cornerstones of the Bermuda Plan were set firmly in place, David Gibbons called an election for December 1980. It was time, he believed, to get his own mandate to govern Bermuda and to push ahead with the Bermuda Plan.

Lully Gibbons campaigned extensively for her husband. She made countless public appearances on behalf of the Premier himself, and on behalf of many UBP candidates. In particularly tight races, she even did some door-to-door canvassing.

"That is not a fun job," she remembered, recounting evenings of walking around the neighbourhood, knocking on doors. "People are always complaining; we're never doing anything right for them." To understand this better, she heeded the words of their friend in Washington, Tip O'Neill.

"Tip O'Neill said that 'All politics is local,' " said Lady Gibbons. "And it's so true. I think education is important, and we were working on that. What people in Bermuda are worried about is that there's no streetlight outside their home, or that there's a pothole. And if you can fix their pothole and get their light going, you can get their vote. If you can fix the little things, then they're happy."

The election also revealed that a handful of UBP politicians did not fully support the use of polling, and were not comfortable depending upon the results of polls. They dismissed the advice coming from Garth and Schoen to step up their canvassing in their constituencies, that their races were, in fact, being hotly contested. In the end, a few of these members lost their seats in the House of Assembly.

The election was close. The final results: the UBP held on to 22 seats, and the PLP now had 18.

Why, if the Gibbons government was working so hard to make fundamental, important changes in Bermuda, was this election so close?

One factor: the personalities involved. The polls indicated that Lois Browne-Evans was seen as being more in touch with the people and having greater warmth than Gibbons.

Another aspect: changes on the scale of the Bermuda Plan take a long time to be realised; the results are often not seen immediately. "Voters think, 'You said you were going to change education. You brought in Ken Clark. Where are the results?' " explained David Garth.

Bermuda had shown at the polls that it backed Gibbons and his Bermuda Plan. "The 1980 election was a test of [the people] going with David Gibbons," said Garth. "In the end, I think they did."