Before There Was Cheddi Jagan, There Was Hubert Nathaniel Critchlow
Let that not just be said—let it be understood, respected, and recorded in the permanent ledger of this nation’s history.
I call on every Guyanese, regardless of origin, race, class or circumstance, to stand up and defend the truth of our history. Because when we sit idly by and allow others—yes, I speak directly of the People’s Progressive Party (PPP) regime—to rewrite this nation’s story, to push some to the margins as though they never existed, we participate in a dangerous falsehood. A nation built on distortion cannot stand in dignity.
This attempt to recast Guyana’s history as though it began with one man, one race and one political tradition is not only dishonest—it is an insult to those who laid the foundation with sweat, sacrifice, and struggle.
And I say to the young Minister of Labour, Keoma Griffith, who I am advised is an attorney-at-law: pause and reflect on the path you are treading. You are of African descent—at least by appearance—and whether you embrace that heritage or not, it is written into the history of this country.
If you are not proud of the struggles and sacrifices of your ancestors, that is your burden to carry. But it does not give you the right—nor the authority—to erase their contribution from the national story. You may be uncomfortable in your own skin, but you cannot rewrite the history written by others in theirs.
Many will say President Irfaan Ali is beyond persuasion—that he will continue as he pleases, unbothered by truth. That may well be so. But to you, Minister, I say again: be guided. Be guided by history. Be guided by truth. Because before Cheddi Jagan, there was Hubert Nathaniel Critchlow.
When Critchlow—a young man forced to leave primary school to support his family—was organising workers and igniting a movement across British Guiana and the wider Commonwealth, Cheddi Jagan was not born. The struggle for workers’ rights, the foundation of trade unionism, did not begin with Jagan. It began decades earlier.
Cheddie was born in 1918. But as early as 1905, workers were rising. By the time Jagan returned to Guyana in 1943, Critchlow had already spent nearly forty years laying the groundwork for trade unionism and industrial relations in this country. These are irrefutable facts!
And the beauty of history is this: it builds. One generation stands on the shoulders of another. You cannot erase the foundation and pretend the structure still stands.
Let me also speak plainly to what I would regard as a sister union—the Guyana Agricultural and General Workers Union (GAWU). Yes, you have celebrated 50 years, and that milestone deserves recognition. But it could have been marked without denigrating Black contributions to this society—and more so, without ignoring the towering legacy of the Father of Trade Unionism in Guyana and the British Commonwealth, a National Hero of Guyana, second only to Cuffy: Hubert Nathaniel Critchlow.
History did not begin with GAWU, nor does it revolve around it. Your rise was not without the interplay of forces, including the People’s National Congress (PNC) government, the wider trade union movement, and the leadership of Forbes Burnham—even amid political rivalry with Cheddi Jagan.
Burnham did not obstruct the recognition of GAWU. He allowed organisation. He allowed growth.
Today, independent trade unions that refuse to bow to the PPP are denied that same space. The Guyana Bauxite and General Workers Union (GB&GWU)—my union—can point to repeated instances where efforts to organise workers have been stifled, blocked at the level of the Trade Union Recognition and Certification Board (TURB), where GAWU and the Guyana Labour Union sit.
So do not speak to us about progress while practicing exclusion.
We must be vigilant. We must be honest.
Let me say it again: before there was Cheddi Jagan, there was Hubert Nathaniel Critchlow.
Jagan’s political consciousness did not emerge in a vacuum. Yes, he grew up on the sugar estates. Yes, he struggled. But his formal journey into politics began as a student in the United States at Howard University—one of the historically Black colleges and universities—where he would have wet his feet among Black activists and earlier African American civil rights fighters. That environment sharpened his political awareness and curiosity.
And when he returned to Guyana, he entered a landscape already shaped by organised labour—led by Critchlow, a Black man whose contribution is now being conveniently minimised.
One must ask: why this persistent effort by the PPP, particularly in the post-Jagan era, to erase or diminish the role of Black Guyanese in building this nation?
I knew Cheddi Jagan. And the Cheddi Jagan I knew would never have supported this rewriting of history. He would have acknowledged Critchlow. He would have said plainly: “Before me, there were others.” That is what principled leadership does—it recognises those who came before.
I did not know Critchlow personally. But I proudly stand on his shoulders. And from all accounts—from those who knew him and from the historical record—he was a man of principle, humility, and courage. Perhaps in his humility, he might have bowed his head and accepted being overlooked. But we will not!
We will not allow Hubert Nathaniel Critchlow to be erased. We will not allow his contribution—or the contribution of Black Guyanese—to be written out of this nation’s history.
To those who are in government and opposition today, who sit in Parliament, who hold elected office, who benefit from universal adult suffrage—let me remind you: the struggle for the right to vote, for “one man, one vote,” did not begin with you. It began with the workers under Critchlow’s leadership in 1926 when Jagan was merely eight-year-old.
Cheddi Jagan was not there in those early years.
You sit where you sit today because of the groundwork laid by a Black man. And it is a tragic indictment of this society that we must continuously remind you of that fact.
You stand on theirs and Critchlow’s shoulders.
You walk on the political ground that Hubert Nathaniel Critchlow helped to pave—the very earth his ancestors carved out with their bare hands, toiling under inhumane and brutal conditions without compensation. And no matter how hard you try, you cannot erase that truth.
Not now. Not ever.
I rest my case.
