One of Thirteen National Holidays September 24
So many holidays, so many causes for remembrance or celebration. Catholic Corpus Christi, Anglican Boxing Day, Hindu Divali, Muslim Eid al-Fitr, and, of course, Pagan Carnival—so many get to have their day here. Republic Day, the 24th of this month, is one of 13 national designations, and the day is not quite right. In 1976, when Trinidad and Tobago finally replaced the tit of the titular head of state, Queen Elizabeth, with a republican government, the actual event was on Independence Day in August, so wiser minds judiciously pushed the celebration into late September, when a day off was deemed due. Not a month goes by without at least one three-day weekend, which speaks directly to national priorities.
I pay my respects with a visit to the house of parliament, the Red House, on the west side of Woodford Square, in the heart of downtown Port of Spain. Woodford was the first governor of British Trinidad. The Red House itself was named after the original residence, which was built in 1897, the year of Victoria’s Jubilee and the colony’s centenary, but it burned down almost right away. In 1903, the present structure was erected. Today the Red House appears in traction, braced on all sides with scaffolds, as a new bloody coat of paint is applied to the pocked terra-cotta walls.
The institutions of government and culture are closed for the holiday, freeing Woodford Square from the typical executive workday bustle. Sandwiched between the Victorian edifices is the Hall of Justice, which must have seemed modern and forward-looking fifty years ago but now resembles a derelict concrete prison. The builders judiciously placed the structure upon eight-foot ramparts in case of public assault, which does occasionally happen, as the pocks and divots on the Red House attest.
In 1990 Jamaat al Muslimeen, a home-grown East Indian terrorist group, attempted a coup d’etat, fire-bombing the police barracks on Abercromby Street and seizing the prime minister and his cabinet as hostages in the Red House. Scheduled programming at Trinidad and Tobago Television, TTT, the only station in the country at the time, was interrupted at dinner by radical Islamic leader Yasin Abu Bakr, who urged calm and assured the public that the military was supporting the takeover—but he was wrong about that. It turns out that Trinidadian’s, defiant and proud of their multi-cultural tolerance, did not warm to the idea of Sharia law in the homeland. The siege ended peacefully with “curfew parties“ after six days. The surviving leaders of the coup are free today, and zealotry is recently on the rise, although their latest proposal, to wreak violent havoc during Carnival, should do nothing to endear the extremists to hearts and minds.
Just a few blocks south of the government ghost town, on the Broadway of Independence Square, there is plenty of morning activity. From the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception to the ferry terminals, bazaars are selling produce, electronics, footwear, lightly-used clothing and furniture in the coveted shade. Meanwhile, the Catholic and Anglican houses of worship are chained and locked. The only open church in the area is Church’s Chicken on Henry Street, which is doing brisk business, particularly compared to the Kentucky Colonel’s version of fried fowl across the Broadway. The TT Stock Exchange, a twenty-story glass tower, is gated and under heavy republican guard. Across King Street is a burned-out church of some kind, with its denomination charred beyond identification, yet its airy enclave serves nicely as an impromptu homeless shelter—God does work in mysterious ways.