''The people of Elvira, Dhaniram said, tightening his belt, 'have their little funny ways, but I could say one thing for them: you don't have to bribe them twice.''
V.S. Naipaul's second novel, The Suffrage of Elvira, is set in Elvira, a marginalized rural region of Trinidad with horrible roads. Taking place in the same universe as his previous novel, with Ganesh Ransumair already rising politically, Naipaul's humorous novel satirizes the changes in Elvira during elections for the Legislative Council. The community of Elvira includes Spanish people in Cordoba and a mix of Blacks, Hindus, and Muslims, and the main candidates running for office in the upcoming office have to forge alliances and bribe members of each different racial and religious group to ensure victory. The degree to which votes are bought by Harbans, the wealthy Hindu, and his committee (comprised of a mix of Hindus and Muslims), and how Elvira itself responds to the candidates along racial, religious, and material interests are the subject of humor and problematic social commentary.
The Black teacher, Mr. Francis, the respected Hindu leader, Chittaranjan, and others question the need for democracy in this small corner of a small island in the British Empire. Mrs. Baksh, wife of the Muslim leader, as well as other members of Elvira, predict the loss of social harmony and peace between the community of different faiths and religions. Even the Indian community supporting Harbans eventually splinters before being united again by bribing the Muslim leadership, suggesting how farcical these early races were in postcolonial Trinidad. The residents, accepting bribery, gifts, and kickback deals, end up supporting Harbans for a landslide victory at the end of this shameful election (even the clerks at the ballot offices are bribed...). The campaign team of Harbans goes so far as to exploit fears of obeah, magic, and the Jehova's Witness missionaries (two white women) to ensure support for their candidate, without any discussion of the issues, anti-colonial goals, social programs.
Naipaul does not only criticize residents of this small, superstitious community for their "underdeveloped" understanding of democracy, but Harbans himself represents how dysfunctional electoral politics were in 1950s Trinidad. Instead of adequately representing his constituency after victory, Harbans only returns to Elvira once. He is dressed in a "proper" Port of Spain style, no longer communicates with his constituency, and refers to the community as a "bitch" (much like the black dog he kills when driving his car into Elvira during the beginning of the campaign). The type of Trinidadian politician represented by Harbans appears in Naipaul's first novel, The Mystic Masseur, and Lovelace's The Wine of Astonishment. Both authors share a disdainful perspective on the political class who serve free food, organize parades, and provide free rum, but once in the Legislative Council, become complacent and never challenge the social or economic conditions that leave their constituencies impoverished.
In the case of Lovelace's excellent novel, it is freedom of religion for the Spiritual Baptists. In Elvira it is the need for better roads, with more general expectations of responsive government that immediately responds to the needs of the community (the fact that Harbans is asked excessively to visit the sick Jared indicates how the community of Elvira, despite its racial and religious antagonisms, does care for the collective). Unfortunately for Elvira, the promise of democracy under colonialism does not offer much, especially since all the candidates who run have to come from the upper classes to be able to afford the deposit fees to the government. Consequently, independence would seem a natural course to take, which eventually happens, but Naipaul avoids taking his criticism of the political system to that logical conclusion.
Indeed, Naipaul's scathing portrait of early democracy in Trinidad is fascinating for its omission of overt pro-independence sentiment. In fact, allusions to British culture and travels abroad are still valued by the community, such as Lorkhoor's obsession with speaking "standard" English or Nelly's obsession with going to London to escape the strict social expectations of Hindu womanhood (paralleled by the daughter-in-law of Dhaniram, abandoned by the latter's son and trapped in service to the family until running off to Port of Spain). The Black teacher, Mr. Francis, likewise shares pro-British attitudes like the local elite, going as far as denying the need for democracy in Elvira.
Yet, in other ways, Naipaul does offer some criticism of colonialism. The anti-black prejudice of the Indian community, for example, is certainly a product of European colonialism in the Trinidadian case (not to exclude earlier color prejudice in Indian societies before colonialism). The conflict between Muslims and Hindus likewise subverts unity and assumes racial overtones, leading to the rather humorous exchange between Baksh and Chittaranjan, the highlight being the latter's ultimate insult to Islam being its Black members. The ghost of a Black baby haunts the old cocoa-house of the planter who once owned Elvira in the days of slavery, reminding residents of all racial groups of the history of slavery in their town.
Despite its overall pessimistic tone and humor, Naipaul's novel does provide evidence of peaceful coexistence among the Christians, Hindus, and Muslims. Sure, Muslims and Hindus frown upon intermarriage, but the ways in which the three religions coexist and influence each other for Elvira is astounding. Hindus sing Christian hymns, every groups' fear of obeah and sorcery, non-Hindus seek healers from the Hindu tradition, and Muslims use the cross for burials. Before the intrusion of limited electoral democracy, there was a form of coexistence that brought people together. Mahadeo's budding friendship with Sebastian, the old Black man, or Sebastian and Haq, the Muslim, being close friends indicate how religious and racial divisions are transcended in a small community. The wake for Mr. Cuffee, exploited by Harbans politically, nonetheless brought together residents of all three faiths for consumption of rum, calypso, hymns, etc.
Overall, an amusing and fun read, Naipaul's second novel is lacking the deeper questions of colonialism or Britishness one finds in The Mystic Masseur. Arguably more complex by its specific subject matter of a political campaign in an entire community, the novel's numerous social classes provide ample fodder for humor and serious social commentary. Indeed, the story's multiracial community reminded me of Miguel Street, which is similarly rich in humor, an inventive combination of dialect and standard prose, and the multicultural world that brings people together. At the end of the novel, the narrator summarizes the aftermath of the election as one of some winners, some losers, with an uncertain future ahead. What better way to conclude a novel about democracy in a colonial society with a sort of moral ambiguity?
