En marge du centenaire de la naissance de Sir Satcam Boolell, voici deux hommages appuyés à l’ancien homme du Parti travailliste. Un par son neveu, l’avocat Sanjay Bhuckory, et l’autre par l’observateur Vijay Makhan.

Sir Satcam Boolell: a man for all seasons by Sanjay Bhuckory, SC

Today marks the birth centenary of Sir Satcam Boolell, my maternal uncle (mamou). He was like a second father to me. I have even been told that I resemble him and have his voice. He always doted on me since my childhood, during my university days in London and after my return to Mauritius as a barrister.

Childhood Memories

My earliest recollection of him was that of a tall, elegant and handsome man. He would always tender useful advice, and encourage us to focus on our studies, as this was the gateway to success. He was highly cultured and well read. He had a richly endowed library at home; and his books ranged from literature, biographies, politics, art, philosophy, classics and novels. His bedside reading consisted of ‘The Economist’, ‘National Geographic’ and ‘Historia’. As I grew up, the articles and photographs of these magazines kept fascinating me and taking me on imaginary journeys in time and space - in fact they still do. Satcam added to the magic, by recounting his worldwide travel experiences to us whenever he would be back in Mauritius.

I had a soft spot for Satcam’s elegant Italian leather shoes. I told him so; and despite my refusal, he gifted me a couple of them. I was the only one in the family to match his shoe size. I wore them to go to college, and my fellow classmates at the Royal College, who got to know the story, would tease me: «Souliers Satcam! »

Satcam was always open to discussion on any subject, and he had the humility to interact with children and adults alike, regardless of their social condition. He was a man of the people. He was a man for all seasons. Despite his ministerial commitments, he found time to take my sisters, and myself, along with his children, for a swim at Mon Choisy beach. Once, on our way to the North, whilst driving through Triolet, someone shouted an unpleasant remark at him. He asked the driver to stop, alighted from the car, walked straight towards the culprit, confronted him, got him to apologise, got back in the car, and asked the driver to drive off. It was all done matter- of-factly! That was Satcam’s trait of character: he had the knack of making everything look smooth, so much so that some would tax him of being too laid back. To those critics, he would retort laughingly: “La paresse est un art qui se cultive”. Be that as it may, Satcam excelled in whatever he did, and he did it with passion: be it as a politician, Minister, negotiator for the Sugar Protocol on the international scene, or simply as a man.

Satcam, who was also known as Somdath, was particularly close to my father Somdath. They knew each other since the 1940s, prior to their embarking on their law studies in London. They would never part ways thereafter. In fact, my father met my mother through Satcam. They shared the same passion for law, politics, literature, arts and culture. They were both candidates for the general elections of 1959 under the banner of the Labour Party. My father lost by a narrow margin. Satcam was elected and went on to become a Minister for an uninterrupted stint until 1982. Whenever Satcam would come home, or we would visit him, it was a genuine delight to witness the exchange between two erudite minds. One could just sit, watch, listen and learn. That was part of my education process, and has greatly marked me, and fashioned my character and outlook on life.

The Head of the Clan

Satcam took it as his mission to unite the whole family clan. He was the source of inspiration, led by example and often entertained us. The New Year’s Eve party at his residence at Bancilhon Street was keenly awaited by one and all. The ‘cari bouc’ (goat curry) was a delicacy. We all let our hair down and partied and danced till the early hours of the New Year. There was the unavoidable tragic-comic incident triggered by someone who had had a drink, or said a word, too many. But it always ended on a good note. On the next day, we would all be sober and would visit him and my nani (maternal grandmother). Her resilience and optimism were the guiding light and source of inspiration to the whole clan.

Satcam was a ‘bon vivant’ and lived like a pasha. He was always surrounded by a coterie of political agents, friends and relatives. What comes to mind is the constant flow of his constituents from Montagne- Blanche, from early morning till late evening, at his residence. He had an open door policy whereby any person who called on him would be afforded an audience. It was akin to holding court, whereby the subjects’ problems would be addressed and solved there and then. It even happened that he would hold court in his bathroom whilst shaving! He is, to date, still cited as a model politician, who has set the benchmark as to how to maintain close proximity with, and nurture, one’s constituents. Amongst the rare politicians to have followed into his footsteps, there is Arvin, his son. Like what, the sense of service seems to be running in the family blood!

The London Days

In the early eighties, during my student days at the London School of Economics (LSE), where Satcam had also studied, I was fortunate to be able to meet him during his regular visits in London, whilst on official mission. As soon as he would land, he would have Mr Boolaky of the Mauritius High Commission phone me to come and join him at his usual ‘pied à terre’: the Strand Palace Hotel, which was a short bicycle ride for me from the LSE. He did things in style: he would offer me the choice of either ginger steamed sea bass in China Town, or Italian pasta at the Bertorelli Brothers reminiscent of his Roman holidays, or spicy lamb curry and dal at the Moti Mahal in Fitzroy Street. The choice was never easy.

He was a man of refined taste, and would shop at the best stores for his clothing, as he had kept the British sense of dressing since his student days. Then there we would be the visit to the bookshops: Foyles being a must. He would spend hours there, and would invariably come out with a stock of books to replenish his hungry mind. This inspired me in developing a love for books.

Once in 1981, Satcam happened to be in London during the same time as the then Prime Minister, Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam, and the then Minister of Finance, Sir Veerasamy Ringadoo. They were all invited for dinner at Mr Boolakee’s. Satcam took me along. Mrs Boolakee prepared a very lavish Mauritian dinner, and the young student that I was got the opportunity of mingling with the three heads of government. They were very jovial, and made me feel at ease. The conversation flowed. So did the whisky, despite all three complaining of having had a very late evening on the eve. The proverbial hospitality of the Boolakee’s won them over, and the evening lasted till very late. During their conversation, they were quite apprehensive about the meteoric rise of the MMM, which was posing a real threat to the Government in the forthcoming general elections of 1982. Their fear turned out to be justified, so much so that they lost all 60 seats. Satcam was defeated in his constituency, from where he had been returned for nearly 30 years. I phoned him to sympathise with him, and he could not hold back his tears. The second and only time I witnessed him crying was some ten years later, when I broke the news of my father’s death to him. This was Satcam for you: a man with a staunch facade, but with a soft heart inside.

The Later Days

Shortly after the 1982 elections, Satcam visited London; and I had the privilege of inviting him to my flat for dinner. He recounted to me how people’s attitude towards him had changed overnight, once he was out of power; and how, even at this ripe age, he was still learning the harsh lessons of life. He thus coined a phrase to describe the turncoats: “Carapates change lichiens” (Fleas that change dogs).

When I returned to Mauritius after my studies in 1984, he had, in the meantime, not only been re-elected in the 1983 elections, but had already left government. He had also returned to the Bar. Both he and my father, who had retired as Town Clerk, guided me during my initial steps in the profession. I would often visit Satcam at his Chambers at Cathedral Square, and he would sometimes take me to court and mentor me.

Satcam took to writing in the late nineties. He had always felt that there was a void in the social history literature of the country. He rose to the occasion and filled that vacuum through his vivid and incisive articles in the Mauritius Times newspaper; and thereafter in the three books that he published on his political, social and travel experiences. My father would have been so happy that his repeated exhortation to Satcam to write had finally borne its fruits. Satcam always had some valuable advice to offer. He said that one should always live within one’s means, and should not raise one’s standard of living unless one was sure to maintain it thereafter. If not, leave well alone. He would also add that, come what may in life, one must always ensure that one’s kitchen expenses are catered for first and foremost. Anything else comes after. I must say that these simple and practical precepts, which are very sensible, have always guided me.

In his later days, Satcam moved to Quatre-Bornes. He missed Port-Louis. And Port-Louis missed him. My family is fortunate to have been bestowed with his affection and knowledge. Satcam remained a humble, generous and visionary man throughout his life. He has bequeathed a lot to this country and its people. His presence and advice in the socio-political arena are sorely missed. May we continue to inspire ourselves from this man for all seasons.

Hommage à un patriote par Vijay Makhan

L’histoire de notre pays, pour ceux qui ont la soif de savoir d’où nous venons, où nous sommes et vers où nous voguons, est jalonnée de grands hommes et femmes qui l’ont façonné.

Malheureusement, ces grandes personnalités qui ont apporté leur contribution dans l’émergence de Maurice, chacune à sa propre façon, ne reconnaîtront plus cette île qu’ils ont contribué à bâtir, à la sueur de leur front, avec dévotion et persévérance, vu l’état actuel du pays.

Parmi ceux qui ont apporté leur pierre à l’évolution de ce pays, figure en pôle position, sir Satcam Boolell. Il s’est jeté dans le social et la politique dès son retour dans l’île, en 1952, après avoir terminé ses études de droit à la prestigieuse London School of Economics en Grande-Bretagne. Élu pour la première fois en 1953, en tant que candidat indépendant (il n’avait pu obtenir l’investiture du Parti travailliste) dans la circonscription de Moka-Flacq, il s’est taillé une solide réputation, pas seulement parmi ses mandants, qui lui vouaient un amour sans pareil, mais à travers l’île toute entière. Car, derrière la façade de sévérité qu’il projetait, il était imprégné de sentiments de sensibilité, de gentillesse, à l’égard de tous ceux qui sollicitaient son conseil, son aide ou sa bienveillance.

Sa maison, à la rue Bancilhon, à Port Louis, était un havre de compassion, de sollicitude. Rare était la personne qui sortait de chez sir Satcam déçue ou insatisfaite de sa rencontre avec cet illustre fils du sol.

En sa qualité de ministre (travailliste) de l’Agriculture, pendant plusieurs années depuis 1959, il était très à l’aise avec les laboureurs, les planteurs et les usiniers. Au fait, l’industrie sucrière dans son ensemble lui vouait une loyauté exemplaire. Cette loyauté n’était aucunement éphémère. Sir Satcam comprenait, comme un fin connaisseur, les aléas de cette industrie. Toutefois, il devait s’investir au delà de cette monoculture pour que le pays adopte une politique de diversification agricole. Il était ouvert à tout conseil expert qui lui parvenait.

En 1960, il recommanda au Dr. Seewoosagur Ramgoolam, alors Chef ministre dans le système toujours colonial de notre pays, d’accepter une invitation à participer à la conférence annuelle de l’Organisation onusienne de l’alimentation (la FAO) en qualité d’observateur et cela, malgré les objections du Colonial Office britannique. Ce dernier, avec sa vision qui lui est reconnue, acquiesça. Et l’année suivante, Maurice fit son entrée à la FAO comme membre observateur, un statut qui nous permit de bénéficier de l’expertise et de l’assistance technique de cette institution.

C’est à partir de ce moment que l’agriculture chez nous prit de l’ampleur. L’Agricultural Marketing Board fut mis en place en 1964, une institution incontournable jusqu’à ce jour. Certains se souviendront encore de l’installation de l’usine Purlait à Floréal, qui mettait sur le marché du lait pasteurisé, ou encore l’importation de chèvres Jamnapari’ d’Inde pour l’élevage caprin à Salazie. Parmi tant d’autres accomplissements, il y avait les fermes feeder de Palmar; le lancement de l’industrie agro-alimentaire avec le slogan : «Produisons ce que nous consommons et consommons ce que nous produisons.»

C’est encore à lui que sir Seewoosagur confia la responsabilité de mener les négociations pour notre entrée dans la Convention de Yaoundé, prédécesseur des Conventions de Lomé qui furent très bénéfiques pour Maurice. Notre appartenance à ces conventions, qui nous liaient avec la Communauté économique européenne (CEE), nous permit de prendre notre envol économique.

Les négociations ardues, mais fructueuses, qu’il mena pour la mise en place du Protocole Sucre dans le cadre des négociations de la Convention de Lomé I de 1975, qui reliait les États d’Afrique, des Caraïbes et du Pacifique (ACP), anciennes colonies, à la CEE, furent d’un impact primordial pour notre pays, pour son avancement et sa prospérité économique et sociale.

Au moment de la signature du Protocole Sucre en mai 1975, le marché commun était déficitaire en sucre. La CEE voulait une garantie d’approvisionnement de 1,4 million de tonnes des pays producteurs ACP, à un prix garanti, pour une durée indéfinie. Le cours mondial de cette denrée, à ce moment-là, était très alléchant par rapport au prix (nettement inférieur) proposé par la CEE. Sir Satcam, animé par une perspicacité de l’avenir, soutenu par sa délégation et, avec l’aval de Sir Seewoosagur, devait commettre 500 000 tonnes de notre sucre, représentant la majeure partie de notre production au marché commun, au grand soulagement de la CEE. Par la suite, comme prévu par sir Satcam et sa délégation, le cours mondial chutait drastiquement alors que le prix garanti nous rapportait gros. À tel point que certains membres du groupe sucre, au sein des ACP, nous enviaient, nous reprochant même notre quota.

Sir Satcam Boolell a eu plusieurs autres responsabilités ministérielles au service du pays. Il a été ministre de l’Éducation, ministre du Plan et du Développement économique, Premier ministre adjoint et ministre des Affaires étrangères et ministre de la Justice. Il termina sa carrière publique en qualité de hautcommissaire à Londres et fut accrédité au Vatican auprès du Saint siège.

Il nous a quittés en mars 2006, mais c’est un homme qui a marqué son temps de ses empreintes indélébiles. Le pays lui doit une fière chandelle. C’est vrai, il fut élevé à la plus haute distinction du pays, quoique très tardivement.

En ce jour de son centenaire, reconnaissons en sir Satcam, un digne président de la République, qu’on ne lui a pas fait l’insigne honneur d’être.