To those who believe that a strong democracy requires a strong opposition, last Sunday's vibrant People's National Party (PNP) conference was a very edifying sight. There was a large and enthusiastic crowd, it was incident free, and Portia Simpson Miller gave perhaps her best-ever public performance.

An old British political joke goes like this: An old hand invites a newly elected member of parliament to sit with him in the front bench for the opening of Parliament. As the opposing party files in, the newcomer mutters, "Here comes the enemy!" The veteran sharply upbraids him. "Not so, young man! That is Her Majesty's loyal opposition!" And with a quick glance over his shoulder, he remarks "The enemy is behind you."

Louise 'Miss Lou' Bennett is undisputedly the most universally loved personality this nation has ever produced or likely will ever produce, engendering unabashed feelings of pride and affection in Jamaicans of all ages, colours, classes and creeds. For more than 50 years, she tirelessly championed Jamaican folk customs on stage, radio and television. Yet apart from being our most celebrated entertainer, Miss Lou is also the most popular poet in this island's history, outselling all others put together. Her impact on the national psyche was perhaps even more important than her artistic legacy, for she almost single-handedly gave Jamaicans pride in their cultural heritage.

We may not be as prosperous or educated or as peaceful as we would like to be, but the recent 'Emancipendence' celebrations once again made all who watched proud to be Jamaican. Many hopes and wishes rose with the black, green and gold flag on August 6, 1962, but who could have dreamed then that this tiny, newborn island would, in 2010, be a world cultural power?

Those who say the recently ended state of emergency (SOE) served no real purpose must place little value on human life. From January 1 to May 31, Jamaica experienced 737 murders, or 4.8 per day. Between June 1 and July 19 there were 137 murders, or 2.8 per day. That is an over 40 per cent drop. Had the January to May rate continued, June and July would have seen 238 murders. This means probably 101 Jamaican lives were saved over 49 days.

Would it make any difference if Jamaica left CARICOM? I asked 20 randomly selected people this question last week. They all shrugged their shoulders. It was like the old joke about ignorance and apathy - they didn't know, and they didn't care.

"To be poor is a crime, and only money can get you justice!" is a sentiment often voiced by ordinary Jamaicans. You hear many stories, for instance, of sexual abuse by 'big men' or brutalisation by state forces, which never get to court because of a lack of resources or connections. In such helpless situations, our human-rights groups sometimes represent the only hope for legal recourse.

BRUCE GOLDING, right now, must feel like a man who fell off a high building, and after plummeting downwards to seemingly certain doom, somehow finds he has landed on his feet unhurt. For the slings and arrows of the Manatt affair and the gut-wrenching upheavals of the Tivoli invasion are now paling beside the sharp drop in murders over the past three weeks or so.

'How easy it is if an example is set by Government of cruel conduct, for everybody to condone cruelty and for cruelty to become a national attribute.'

—Norman Manley, 1966

BETWEEN 1962 and 2009 Jamaica's murder rate went from 3.9 to 62.2 per 100,000 - perhaps the greatest violent death rate increase experienced by any country not at war. How did we get here?

The higher they climb, the harder they fall. No other Jamaican politician has so sanctimoniously disparaged opponents as Bruce Golding in his 1995-2000 National Democratic Movement (NDM) dispensation. He accused both the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) and People's National Party (PNP) of practising old-time dirty politics and being irredeemably steeped in violence and corruption. Get rid of these dinosaurs and vote him into office, he urged, and his government would be a shining example of transparency and accountability that people could truly trust.