Striking a Delicate Balance

Alister Hughes, 64, editor of the Grenada Newsletter, has not found it easy to be a journalist on the island. In 1973, under the despotic regime of Prime Minister Sir Eric Gairy, Hughes was beaten up while covering pre-independence rallies. Five years later, the Marxist government of Maurice Bishop began harassing him because of his editorial independence. Three weeks ago, Hughes was thrown into jail for having reported on the violent coup that brought down Bishop. Freed one day after the U.S. invasion, Hughes, who is also a part-time reporter for the London Sunday Tunes, ABC and TIME, offers his view of his country's future:

Island history teaches us something. However welcome the Americans seem to us at the moment, they might be well advised to learn some lessons from the arrival of the first French invaders more than three centuries ago. The records show that in 1650 Grenadians happily "sold" their island for "some knives and hatchets, a large quantity of glass beads and two bottles of brandy for the Chief himself." Only nine months later (presumably after the brandy ran out), the islanders began bridling under the restrictions imposed on them by an alien culture and decided they wanted their island back. In the end, a bloody confrontation erupted in which bows and arrows were smashed against French guns. Our moods have not changed much since then: we are quick to welcome those who come here, even quicker to suspect those who stay too long.

The Grenadians of today are, to be sure, grateful to the U.S. for rescuing them from a dangerous predicament. But, unlike our forebears, we have not sold the island. Perhaps the Reagan Administration understands this. But if the point is missed, the welcome will sour, recriminations will begin, and the same people who are now willing to exchange their hospitality for U.S. humanitarianism may start pointing accusing fingers at the Americans.

We are worried that the "rescue mission" may turn into an occupying force; that the U.S. may seek to dominate Grenadian political decisions; that the very sovereignty of our 120-sq.-mi. home may be threatened.

In the weeks immediately ahead, Americans must realize that our spontaneous expression of joy upon being saved cannot be sustained indefinitely. Roadblocks, searches and overall military control are now accepted with good-natured tolerance. But as the days pass, the risk of misunderstandings, irritations and even confrontations increases.

The G.I.s who now float on a comfortable cloud of acceptance as our "rescuers" may find themselves rejected as "invaders."

Grenadians are also anxious about what some call the "threat" of U.S. aid. The U.S. is undoubtedly aware of radical political elements in all the region's former British colonies. Having wrested Grenada from the grasp of Havana and Moscow, the U.S. may wish to prove to Grenadians, and everyone else in the Caribbean, that the capitalist world can provide more economic benefits than the Communist. Some Grenadians fear that as the U.S. tries to administer that lesson, the islanders will lose their distinctive characteristics as a West Indian people. They do not want a community shorn of its traditions and hankering after the American way of life. They feel that an injudicious lavishing of American largesse on Grenada would result in horrendous social consequences.