N reading the recently published history commissioned by the Bermuda Industrial Union and written by Ira Philip, several thoughts immediately came to mind. First, I would say that the material in the book is well researched and clearly presented in a timeless form that will make it accessible to future generations.

It chronicles in a lucid and largely challenging way, with concise but comprehensive details, those issues that gave rise to the formation of the unions and in so doing highlights the struggles of black people and the pernicious nature of white suppression during the 19th and early 20th centuries. The book brings to life those epochal movements that rose to challenge that suppression.

The natural and inherent problem with reporting historical events, though, is that what's presented as a truth is in reality a perspective. The facts may be undeniable but the rationalisations and interpretations that provide objectivity to those facts often need the support of additional information ? and even opposing points of view in order for readers to gain a fully rounded perspective. That's not only true for this book, it is true in all cases of history. Interpreting the past is not an exact science.

So what's often deemed to be "history" in many cases is merely the interpretation of an individual subscribing to a narrow and highly specific viewpoint ? or even the propagandistic product of special interest groups (both the anti-Bush film and the Kerry-bashing documentary would seem to fall into this category: history deliberately distorted into propaganda and then passed off to the public as "objective" reporting when the intent of both films is to advance a partisan political cause).

Some of the observations made quite early in Mr. Philip's book may cause readers to become self-conscious ? particularly if the readers in question are native-born black Bermudians. I will cite a couple of paragraphs by way of example. On page 16, the second to last paragraph begins:

"Not only did Dr. (E.F.) Gordon find a different breed of whites from what he was accustomed to in the Caribbean. But he also found a different crop of black people as well, particularly the black elite who displayed a discernable anti-West Indian bias . . .

"He shook his head in amazement at the contrast to Caribbean blacks, who were held in subjugation through poverty and starvation and by force from gunboats from Bermuda. Bermudians were not starved into submission, but 'fed' and 'clothed' into submission. They were also flattered by the refrain of respective Governors who contended they were the best-dressed; best-fed, and best housed Negroes in the world."

One might ask, what were those black Bermudians doing for 300 years?

Would it be right to conclude that after having lived 300 years there was no evidence of them having struggled for freedom?

Did they produce no brave souls?

Did they accomplish nothing heroic?

Did it take individuals from overseas like Dr. E.F. Gordon to sort out their issue of freedom?

Given the book's focus is the development of trade unionism, it's both understandable and right that it highlights significant participants in that development. Nevertheless, the rationalisations for those pioneers' actions cannot be viewed in isolation. They are unequivocally linked to the entire social and cultural evolution of Bermuda and its people.

It is a normal feature in history to view specific events and individuals as symbols of major change. Rosa Parks in the USA civil rights movement; the storming of the Bastille in the French Revolution; and, perhaps, the 1959 theatre boycott in the desegregation of Bermuda.

But it should always be acknowledged that Rosa Parks was no more individually responsible for the wholesale racial transformation of American society than the storming of the Bastille was the key factor in the French Revolution.

Similarly, in the local context, one would have to investigate of the players in black Bermudian society in order to properly apportion credit and appreciation for the events and episodes that have come to symbolise our long path towards freedom. Indeed the very idea of freedom itself ? and what true freedom means to a human ? would need to be fully analysed before we deem certain individuals to be "freedom fighter".

Just look back at the recent history of the Soviet Union and the breakdown, after almost a century, of Communist ideological coercion. We saw the very symbols of the Bolshevik "freedom fighters" being torn down by angry crowds.

The much revered Lenin and Stalin, icons of the great proletariat during the Soviet era, became redefined during the era of and as being, in reality, obstacles to freedom. They were redefined as obstacles because they were finally seen as bringing an ineffective ideology to the people, one which in truth took away the very freedoms they were inherently seeking.

Similarly, here at home we need to reconcile in our collective minds to an ideal and appropriate Bermudian interpretation of human freedoms. As a subjugated people, many of us have fallen for the trappings of the modernised society and view the attainment of civil rights as the true measure of freedom.

That's a limited definition. During the highly revolutionary 18th century, the idea of freedom and human liberty came to have far broader meanings than our current generation of socio/politico activists attribute to the terms.

In the aftermath of the American Revolution, the "pursuit of happiness" and, indeed, the very term liberty, applied to a whole range of functions within the spectrum of human behaviour. Hence ownership of property, leisure, education, having a trade or profession; money or exchangeable wealth were all associated with the notion of freedom. It would naturally be construed that without these features freedom would prove to be very limited indeed.

Most Western economies after the advent of the Industrial Revolution witnessed the development of trade unionism. As in the case of England, unionism helped check the blatant exploitation and inhumane, near slave-like conditions that workers were subjected to. Consequently, trade unionism has become a natural balancing force in capitalism. Nevertheless, we still need to examine in the cold light of day what tangible benefits trade unionism brought to the black economic experience in Bermuda.

In fact, maybe the black economic experience needs to be interpreted in a twofold manner. We can easily appreciate the role trade unionism played in securing worker rights and benefits. Less well understood, though, are the effects of unionism on black entrepreneurship and black economic upward mobility.

It is intellectually prudent that we examine the role of trade unionism in our current and future affairs. We must have an informed position on what role it has played in Bermuda's past, its current role, and what role it should or could play in the future.

The genuine value of trade unionism to us is wrapped up in any such analysis. Hence, aside from the needed collective response to the old oligarchs, we need to examine the net value of this movement on the issue of black economic empowerment and its relationship with the development of entrepreneurship.

We have to bear in mind the immense level of entrepreneurship present among blacks in Bermuda from the 18th century through to the 20th century, which saw the advent of trade unionism locally. We have to determine posthumously what happened to nearly two centuries of entrepreneurial development in the black community.

Did we develop an ideology that rewarded and sustained that development? Or did we adapt to an ideology that facilitated the systematic destruction of the cumulative work of several generations.

In fact, did we in reality assist the oligarchs' entrenched hold on black economic potential by glorifying the status of being labour while, by neglect, denigrate the role of entrepreneurship? Was the unionist movement, notwithstanding its much needed role, entirely in sync with black Bermudian potential of the time?

It may not appear as an obvious question for many but I often reflect on the history of struggle.

Most black Bermudians are familiar with the 1959 dock strike and the 1965 Belco riots, turning points in the unfair treatment of Bermudian workers. And virtually everyone knows of the 1959 Theatre Boycott that brought an end to officially sponsored segregation in one memorable and turbulent week.

But did we ever hear about any protests following on from the Hill Top block plant being blown up? A mighty dynamite blast at 3 a.m. in the morning of June 17, 1959 ? ironically, the second day of the Theatre Boycott ? put an end to what was at the time the most successful block plant in operation in Bermuda, a black-owned company.

Has anyone calculated the hundreds of millions of block plant revenue dollars lost to black businessmen in the years to come? Was this an act of white intimidation?Was it "freedom fighters" engaging in an act of economic self-sabotage against a fellow black? At this late stage we'll never know. But what we do know is that this highly successful plant was taken out of the hands of black entrepreneurs. Yet there were no marches, no demonstrations. Why don't we all know about this act? Why has it been relegated to footnote status in black Bermudian history?

Such non-responsiveness to the block plant blast is indicative of how our entrepreneurship was destroyed with both a bang and a collective public whimper at a time when unionism and militancy were reaching their apex in Bermuda.

The fact this incident is not embedded in our collective memory like the Theatre Boycott, the fact the owner is not remembered as a leader of black economic self-sufficiency, is an indictment against us all.

That owner is representative of the kind of black people Bermuda developed over the centuries and would be an archetype of the kind of black that Mr. Philip's book describes as "our black elite". We, as a people, demonstrated paradoxical behaviour by fighting the oligarch for a ten cent on the dollar raise on the one hand while watching him walk through the door and take over a profit-generating industry like block production without a whimper.

Given this peculiar context, it makes no sense to selectively elevate individuals into heroes or icons for their roles in the creation of a progressive Bermuda if, in the end, we determine within the overall context of the Bermudian black experience the ideas they espoused were intrinsically flawed. We must develop the ability to give credit when and where it is appropriately due. We must, of course, recognise and reward bravery and courage in the face of adversity. But we must begin to include in our ideal of heroism those examples of ingeniousness and creativity pursued by black Bermudian entrepeneurs. We celebrate Dr. Gordon while at the same time turning a blind eye to another Bermudian who had his dreams blown up, intimidated out of business, with no comment, no support or recognition. Even worse, we have either entirely forgotten him or seen him portrayed as complacent ? not considered part of the black struggle for economic independence.

My own acid test for the book is whether I would give one to my children in hopes of generating some black Bermudian pride. The answer is yes ? but not before I attempted to put in perspective the whole notion of freedom and what it should mean in the Bermudian context.