Dons are criminal non-state actors that evolved out of the divisive trade union and partisan battles in Jamaica from the 1940s to 1960s... ...The term 'don' is a recent one, however, one that gained venom in the 1980s... ...before that you had 'rude bwoys', 'top rankings' and 'area leaders'

Garrisons: Empires Of The Dons

By Damion Blake, jamaica-gleaner guest columnist

The Jamaican don is a unique figure, created by a divisive and polarised partisan culture, and produced by the social and economic conditions of urban poverty and limited access to legitimate employment.

Dons emerged in a country where social status and prestige are important markers of upward mobility, and what the late Professor Rex Nettleford termed a 'smaddy'.

But who really are dons? How have they come to dominate the geopolitical spaces of garrison neighbourhoods in Jamaica? I view them as governance actors who use both fear and material rewards as tools for achieving and maintaining power inside Jamaica's garrison communities.

I write this article against the background of research I conducted in one of Jamaica's urban communities in the Kingston and Metropolitan Area last year from August to December 2011. This urban inner city, which I will refer to as 'California Villa', is in a garrison constituency and has been termed a garrison community.

I interviewed more than 40 persons who lived and/or worked in the community. I also spoke with civil-society and NGO groups that have worked in garrison and inner-city communities for decades in Jamaica.

One respondent who lives in California Villa remarked, "Don is a leader, a man who decide when the war fi start and when it fi end. Him decide who lives and who dies." I found the pronouncement of the respondent to be both instructive and scary. Like an investigator, I followed several trails trying to better understand who these community figures really are.

The late Professor Barry Chevannes once referred to dons as "folk heroes"; I think in many ways Prof was right. Dons have a kind of social power inside garrison communities that gives them perverse legitimacy, respect, social prestige but, most of all, a deep fear among residents. Residents fear dons and the gangs they lead. To cross paths with, or diss, the don is an almost sure ticket to punishment.

Dons also have network connections outside the walls of garrison communities. One respondent who runs a community-based association remarked, "There is no don without a politician, and there is no don without his own police."

Categorising criminal dons

But are all dons the same?

From the research I carried out, I realised that there are different types of dons in garrison spaces; in fact, there are some community figures that have social influence, but are not really dons.

One respondent, who works closely with inner-city and garrison communities, informed me that there are some men called 'boss man' who provide material resources to residents in these communities. They have respect among the youth in the area, but they are, technically, not dons.

Based on my research, a three-tier structure of dons emerges: there is the mega don, the powerful community don, and the lower-ranked street/corner don. Most garrisons, it seems, tend to have street-level dons, with fewer powerful dons and still fewer mega dons.

The mega don operates across garrison communities, is awash in wealth, has transnational links to organised crime (drug and gun trafficking), leads a gang, has legitimate businesses but also organises mega robberies and extortion rackets.

The don is essentially a male (I came across no female dons) who has resources in the form of money, has some political association (loose or strong), has an arsenal of weapons, usually is a leader or top-ranking gang member, has respect in the community (whether out of fear or admiration), and someone who provides some social benefits to the community.

Dons are criminal non-state actors that evolved out of the divisive trade union and partisan battles in Jamaica from the 1940s to 1960s. The term 'don' is a recent one, however, one that gained venom in the 1980s; before that you had 'rude bwoys', 'top rankings' and 'area leaders'.

Damion Blake is an instructor and PhD student at Virginia Tech State University. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and damionkblake@gmail.com.

February 27, 2012

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London's lesson on urban poverty

By Dennie Quill, Gleaner Columnist:



A peaceful vigil for a black man killed by a police bullet that turned into fiery protests in London has held the attention of the world over the last couple of days. Scenes of looters plundering businesses and homes in broad daylight projected an ugly image not unlike what we have become accustomed to seeing being beamed from impoverished Third World countries.

But this is London, a lavish city which sets the trend in fashion and luxury living. Poverty is the last thing an outsider would likely conjure up when thinking about London.

But this is not the first time this modern city has erupted in violence, and invariably the troubles have involved the police and disgruntled youth caught in poverty and a jobless cycle. Railing against the police and the political status quo is a regular feature of these uprisings. Rioters accuse the police and politicians of ignoring their plight and treating them unfairly. And this time, we have to factor the powerful influence of the Internet in rallying support for the protest.

In reality, London is no different from New York or Santiago or Kingston, where there is a hazy mosaic of wealth and poverty existing side by side.

And as the ranks of the urban poor swell, amid a stubborn global economic crisis, improving these communities must be a political priority for every government.

The question that must be exercising the minds of many policymakers is: how can governments, strangled by debt payments and experiencing declining earnings and no growth, fulfil their social obligations to the citizens of their countries.

Take Jamaica with its estimated one million squatters. These squatter communities have developed along the edge of townships and they spawn various challenges to national security, health and sanitation. A visitor to any of these poor communities will immediately be met with a litany of complaints highlighting their plight - poor housing, unemployment, bad roads and water woes are some of the common grievances. In some cases, too, eviction is hanging over their heads.

Survival instincts

With limited skills and little education, people who find themselves in poor communities will do what they have to do to survive. Invariably, they end up in the informal sector, where they will hustle, and this may mean stealing, extorting, peddling drugs or vending illegally. These activities inevitably bring many of the urban poor into direct conflict with the authorities. The result is evictions and arrests. And the common questions they ask are: "Ah wha wi a go do now?" and "Ah how wi ah go sen wi pickney go a school?"

Our social scientists and our private-sector thinkers should recognise that discontent is simmering all around us, and we ignore this situation to our peril. Initiatives to change the circumstances of the urban poor will benefit the entire country.

What kinds of public-private sector partnerships can we develop to alleviate the stress of these communities? Can Grants Pen become the model for other areas?

Today, it is London that's ablaze, but we don't know where in the world the news cameras will take us tomorrow.

Dennie Quill is a veteran journalist. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and denniequill@hotmail.com.

August 10, 2011

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