THE ROOTS OF CONFLICT IN JAMAICA

OCHO RIOS, Jamaica -- During the spasm of violence in Jamaica earlier this
month, my wife and I spent a quiet afternoon on the veranda at the home of
my 84-year old mother, in a part of Kingston less than three miles from the
center of the conflict that, over four days, left more than 25 people dead.
We felt about as safe as we would anywhere in New York or Boston.

Jamaica is a 144-mile mountain range jutting out of the Caribbean. The
capital city of Kingston and the homes of most of the country's 2.5 million
inhabitants are on the southern coast. Nearly all the hotels worth visiting
are located a huge mountain and a social world away, on the northern coast.
Jamaica does have a higher level of crime and violence than most other
nations, but the violence is largely confined to particular urban
neighborhoods in the southern part of the island. And the recent clash
between police and politically motivated gangsters was restricted to one
small section of the western urban slums of Kingston.

What is really going on here?

Jamaica is a test case of all that's best and worst about democratic
regimes in less developed countries. It shares with most of the other
Caribbean islands of the British Commonwealth a deeply rooted commitment to
personal freedom and democratic governance. Voter participation rates here
put the United States to shame. What's more, unlike Japan and many other
modern democracies, Jamaica has repeatedly passed the ultimate test of any
thoroughly institutionalized democracy: it has had several changes of
government since independence in 1962, the two dominant parties each having
ruled and been thrown out of office by the voters about the same number of
times. Supporting this democracy are a free and vigilant press, a
sophisticated tradition of social and political discourse, and a vibrant
civil society. The country also has a complex and highly developed popular
culture and intellectual tradition. That's the good news.

The bad news is that Jamaica's attempts at economic development have
largely failed. Here, as in Puerto Rico and most other Caribbean islands,
post-independence attempts at industrialization have fallen apart. Jamaica
now has vast shantytowns; unemployment at depression levels; and high rates
of economic inequality, crime and drug abuse. The government has met many
conditions imposed by the International Monetary Fund in return for
much-needed loans: a stable annual inflation rate of 5.8 percent, falling
interest rates, adequate international reserves and the return of positive
growth. But at the same time, public debt is nearly 160 percent of the
gross domestic product and interest consumes more than half of all
government expenditure, leaving little to address the social problems.

External migration and a thriving informal economy have been safety valves
of the system. Between a quarter and a third of all Jamaicans live abroad,
most in the United States. Secretary of State Colin Powell, a
second-generation Jamaican- American, is the most visible symbol of
Jamaicans' achievements in America. Even Jamaicans who have become American
citizens tend to maintain strong ties with the island, making Jamaica in
effect a transnational society. And the money they send home ranks second
only to tourism in contributing to the economy's net foreign earnings. This
half explains the large villas sprouting all over the countryside in spite
of years of negative economic growth.

The other half of the explanation is in the darker side of the informal
economy: the drug trade. Marijuana has traditionally been used in Jamaica,
but more sinister, the island is increasingly used as a transshipment
center by Colombian dealers feeding America's insatiable demand for
narcotics. And as in America and other parts of the world, guns and turf
wars follow the illicit drug trade. The dons and drug gangs of the slums
are often more heavily armed than the security forces waging losing battles
to control them. The police have increasingly resorted to illegal tactics
that violate the rights not only of the criminal elements but of innocent
residents trapped in the neighborhoods where the criminals operate.

Jamaica's parliamentary democracy, on the British model, interacts badly
with this turbulent socioeconomic mix. A politician's political survival
depends entirely on his or her ability to win repeatedly at the local
level. One sure method of ensuring repeated victory is to create what is
called a garrison constituency: a pocket of housing erected with public
funds, with carefully screened residents who will constitute the unbeatable
core of the politician's voters.

These began with Edward Seaga, now the leader of the Jamaica Labor Party,
when he was in office during the 1960's and 80's. The leading politicians
of the other main party soon followed his lead. There are now about 15
hard-core garrison constituencies, and political fights between them during
elections have spilled over into broader, ongoing turf wars. The resulting
gangs, initially formed for political purposes, now also serve the drug
trade. During the 80's, many of these gangs migrated to America, where they
became known as posses and soon forged a reputation for violence.

These gangs have increasingly worked to generate unrest as a political
tactic. This may have been a cause of the recent violence, which was as
much a police riot as a counterattack by political thugs against police.
The violence took place in garrison constituencies loyal to the opposition
party, and many commentators here see it as an attempt by the opposition to
pressure the government to call an early election (the next scheduled
election is not until next year).

Last week Prime Minister P. J. Patterson, leader of the People's National
Party, ordered a commission of inquiry to determine the causes of the
recent violence and propose steps to fight criminality. Mr. Seaga had
called for such a commission.

Today Jamaica, like the few other genuine democracies in the third world,
is attempting to do what history has so far found to be impossible: develop
a successful capitalist economy after first embracing freedom, allowing a
vigorous trade union movement and guaranteeing universal adult suffrage.
Economic failure and mass poverty have in no way diminished the nation's
passion for freedom.

The United States should recognize its interest in supporting this small
struggling nation right at its doorstep -- especially since a healthy,
functioning democracy there would be better able to resist the drug trade
that harms both countries.

Orlando Patterson, a professor of sociology at Harvard, was special adviser
for social policy and development to Prime Minister Michael Manley of
Jamaica from 1972 to 1980.