He was by no means an Eric Williams. But Vernon Alexander Jamadar's contribution to the country's social and political landscape has earned him a permanent place in Trinidad and Tobago's history. Jamadar emerged as Leader of the Opposition after Dr. Rudranath Capildeo was ousted from the position following long periods of absence from the country (he lectured at a British university). He led the DLP until it fragmented in 1973, when he parted company with Alloy Lequay. He last contested a general election in 1976, in the Siparia constituency, when he was beaten by the ULF's Raffique Shah.

To many young people today, Jamadar may hardly mean anything - a sad indictment on the way we honour or treat our outstanding citizens who made their mark in their chosen field.

In Jamadar's case, as was the situation with many lawyers of his time, he chose politics which, combined with his legal background, made him a thorn in the side of then political heavyweight Dr Eric Williams.

Do you recall the famous or, infamous battle cry, "Ballots or Bullets"?

How about "Bloody Tuesday" in which opposition politicians, trade unionists and others were savagely beaten by baton-swinging police officers?

Those were just two of the four political epics - his word - that Jamadar was featured in during his relatively short period in active politics, but which were really landmarks in the country's political history.

Jamadar was born 70 years ago, the seventh of eight children to Eugene and Jasodia Tiah, in Freeport, Central Trinidad. His surname changed when he left home as a young child to live with his uncle who had adopted him, in San Fernando.

After primary school he went to London where he read law and returned home in 1954 to practice his profession, which he did with distinction until a stroke forced him into retirement in 1993.

His entry into politics, he told the Independent at his palatial Archibald Street, Vistabella, South Trinidad, home - which overlooks the Gulf of Paria just above the San Fernando Yacht Club - was quite accidental.

With his wife of 42 years, Mona, sitting in on the interview (surprisingly, she was not needed to assist him in recalling specific dates in his public life), he explained:

'I wanted an opportunity to serve. I was practising law and Ashford Sinanan (another political stalwart now deceased) drafted me into the Democratic Labour Party asking me to go to Fyzabad to organise the constituency.

"I was a young lawyer full of energy and I jumped at that opportunity. Instead of merely organising the constituency I exceeded my mandate and fell in love with politics, and that's how it began.

The following year he contested the 1961 general election on the DLP ticket, winning the constituency from the PNM's Muriel Donawa. In the 1966 polls he romped home winner in the Oropouche constituency and because of the controversial boycott by the opposition parties, he did not contest the 1971 general elections.

Mr. Jamadar, who has a slight slur when he speaks as a result of the stroke, but still has an active mind and a sense of humour, spoke with passion about his struggle to get rid of the voting machines.

Recalling that he was leading the fight in the absence of the party's leader, Dr. Capildeo, who was in England, Jamadar explained the DLP was in complete opposition since the machines were first used for the 1966 general elections.

Their main fear was that the machines could be rigged.

Looking back at that time, Jamadar said, with a twinkle in his eyes:

"You remember the slogan; 'ballots or bullets'? We threw down the gauntlet to Dr. Williams when we said 'ballots or bullets'."

Asked if he thought it could have really reached that situation, he replied with a sense of conviction: "It wouldn't have come from us necessarily. It could have come from any section of the society because there was great dissatisfaction and the machines obviously couldn't be trusted."

"I remember one day when we forced the authorities to take us where they were stored to inspect them and I left convinced they could be rigged. One of the things that made me form that unshakable opinion was that while on the inspection I saw a fella simply removing a part and soldering it back, at the back of a unit."

"It was after this startling eye-opener we intensified our campaign against their use especially for the 1971 polls."

The PNM administration however, refused to bow to the demand that the machines, imported from the USA, be scrapped, and that we return to the ballot; as a result there was a boycott of the polls by the major opposition parties.

Consequently the PNM made a clean sweep of the elections when just 28 percent of the electorate bothered to exercise their franchise that year.

With a smile, he philosophised last week:

"We had called for a boycott and the PNM implored their supporters to turn out in their large numbers. But we won because of the small turn out by the voters. That was the first big struggle I was involved in.

The machines were never used again.

His second epic - although that too failed - was a concerted campaign to have the country's electoral system based on the proportional representation (PR) model of government, in which seats would be allocated on the number of votes polled by each party.

But again Jamadar, a man not to be cowed even if the odds did not favour him, came up against the PNM juggernaut with William's leading his warriors.

Williams vehemently opposed this idea (PR), no doubt seeing it as a death threat to the PNM.

Jamadar took his case to the then Wooding Constitution Commission;

"Addressing a PNM convention around that time, Dr Williams gave out his soul as to why he did not want PR. He said PR was a dagger at the heart of the PNM. I also advocated PR at the Hyatali Commission, which came later.
Jamadar, who, as leader of the Opposition, refused to support the imposition of a state of emergency in 1970 to stall the swelling Black Power movement, said:

"Williams asked me to agree to the declaration of a state of emergency and I refused to support, him telling him categorically 'no.' I told him instead of that he should meet the people and talk with them because they were involved in a legitimate struggle for a place in the sun for an important section of our country.

"The emergency was still declared. But they did not have my support, so in a sense I weakened them."

His other epic struggle was the infamous "Bloody Tuesday' illegal demonstration in San Fernando, on March 18, 1975. The demonstration, which was organised by the emerging United Labour Front, was planned to take thousands of oil and sugar workers from San Fernando to Whitehall in Port of Spain. Among the organisers of that march were Basdeo Panday, George Weekes, Joe Young and Raffique Shah. Jamadar joined a number of prominent citizens who identified with the cause of the workers - the struggle for bread, peace and justice.

Jamadar: "I was among those who were beaten, arrested and jailed. We all spent one night in the cell at the San Fernando Police Station. I received blows to my back and buttocks. It was difficult sitting down for a while (laughs) after that sound cut-tail.

"The police permission was not given because Williams feared the unity of the oil and sugar workers. PNM would be in a lot of trouble, and he was right.

"So they broke up the march; not only did they break up the march, they beat people all over the place. People who were not marching but mere spectators received their share of police beating power.

"But I put it all down to the price one has to pay for democracy and I hope I will be remembered as a fighter for true democracy for everyone."

Admitting there was racial polarisation to some extent in the society today; Jamadar argued he did not think the struggle for the two major races to unite was in vain.

"No. I don't think so because as a result of the marc Williams made some concessions tot he working class that he wouldn't have made otherwise. These include better wages, better working conditions, more employment opportunities, a better social service, and better health facilities."

"You see in struggle the immediate benefits are never there. They come sometimes years after. But in this case here it was a matter of struggling against a PNM pretending to be a people's government and when in fact it was not serving the working class."

The father of three - Peter, a High Court Judge in Trinidad and Tobago; Richard, an attorney with the state in Orlando, and David, Assistant professor in Radiology at the University Hospital in Michigan - Jamadar has absolutely no regrets about how he has so spent his life so far.

These days he gets up in the morning and goes to the gym for a workout; upon returning home, he reads the Express, "because it is a smaller paper and I like to read Keith Smith and the Maha Sabha columns." Later in the evening, he takes in the news on television. He loves to play draughts and doesn't miss his weekly "cook out" with his relatives "in the bush at Freeport".

"I have had my days and I am content to watch what is happening now."