“In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer”

— Albert Camus

In December 1977, as a young man living temporarily in London, I had an experience that resonates with that metaphor above. I began to discover an unconquerable aspect of my self. It eventually became apparent to me that this is also available to everyone. It is revealed to us as we begin to understand that we cannot really be defeated — regardless of the nature of any challenge — once we are able to “trust” ourselves, others and the universe. Of course, this doesn’t mean we always “get our own way”.

It was during 1977 that I began to appreciate that my ability to trust leverages my access to this invincibility within myself. Of course, each individual’s life journey is unique but they eventually intersect with so many others. London was a crossroads because some of these strands came together there during 1977.

The roots of some strands emerged in London in the 15th century, when the business interests of the day established “settlements” across the New World. Robber barons were able to take advantage of the hyper-competition among various tribes in Africa, leading to the slave trade, making free labour available. That scenario optimised profits for business, resulting in the consequential human tragedy. While the system of slavery was eventually dismantled, the consequences that followed led to centuries of society stuck in segregation and substantial inequality.

That “winter” was warmed up, over time, by the collaborative actions of many mostly nameless “actors” who possessed a considerable trust in themselves.

For example, Mary Prince, born in Bermuda, eventually lived in London and played a critical role in the collaboration that brought about emancipation on August 1, 1834. Rosa Parks trusted herself enough to take a stand on that bus in Montgomery in 1956. The Progressive Group trusted themselves and fellow Bermudians so that the successful Theatre Boycott peacefully removed Bermuda’s formal, racial barriers by July 2, 1959.

This process was not straightforward; it was complex with one step forward and two steps backward. Those setbacks led to some undermining of trust and the resultant temptation to take the “low road”. This was the prevailing “climate” of the late 1960s to early 1970s. It was in that context that Martin Luther King was assassinated on April 5, 1968. The resultant riots led many of us to forget his reminder that the “arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards justice”.

It was during that “cold spell” that trust was eclipsed. Rather than embracing the faith in ourselves to directly engage those resisting the coming “summer”, some of us yielded to temptation, taking the low road. At that point, I was among those who looked to polarise our community rather than to seek to thaw relations.

This “cold front” moved across Bermuda, feeding a spiral of tit-for-tat that ushered in a gathering storm. Over time, this pressure led to a destructive momentum that stoked conditions, eventually leading to the cold-blooded assassinations of a police commissioner, governor and others.

Living systems in concert with the laws of the universe have a way of bringing about balance — a process called homeostasis. After that most chilling period of our island’s collective story, some of us were able foster a grassroots shift.

In the spirit of making amends, we chose to work to regain balance, stretching to recapture trust in ourselves and in our wider community. This led us to mindfully taking collaborative action, fostering relations — and the pendulum began to return towards the centre.

The response to the assassinations resulted in the convictions of Erskine “Buck” Burrows and Larry Tacklyn, and this reality led us to explore the context of restorative justice. One simple goal was to stay the hangman.

Over a period of almost two years, a small group of us exercised a deep trust because, in spite of having only minimal initial support, we were able to foster a broader societal shift. Given that Britain’s governing party of the day, the Labour Party, officially opposed capital punishment and that there had been no hangings in Bermuda for decades, it looked as if we were “safe”.

However, it was not until days after engaging directly with members of the British Parliament in December 1977 that we became aware that we had misjudged circumstances — as history has documented. The benefit of hindsight and significant research has shown that the vast majority of others involved in this matter from all sides were also mistaken.

The rest is history. Notwithstanding the many fires from the resulting riots, that December the island went through a deep cold spell. This “error” will become more fully understood only if our entire island commits to become a “learning community” and seeks to draw lessons to benefit our whole society.

That said, the easy takeaway offered to all of us is to seek to nurture trust in ourselves and each other.

Out of the ashes of December 1977, some of us sought to rebuild a sense of community that trusted itself and was committed to peace rather than polarisation. These efforts proved to be so successful that during the islandwide protests of 1981, it was evident that during that totally peaceful campaign that the police and protesters worked together in concert.

I was able to see at first hand that this was owing to a sense of trust in self and others.

Our community’s latest challenge last Friday on Parliament Hill could benefit from us reflecting on lessons from this chapter of our past.

We are all called to reflect on how we come to the table. Do we trust ourselves or not? Do we seek to polarise or aim to strengthen our community?

Regardless of our differences, together we have the capacity to not only survive, but to thrive. Let’s engage with each other with trust in ourselves. With courage, we can mindfully look to benefit our children, our grandchildren and upcoming generations.