Letters from Laura | Remembering Mayer Matalon

Even if you didn’t know Mayer Matalon, nor necessarily wish to know about him now, Diana Thorburn’s recently launched book Mayer Matalon, Business, Politics and the Jewish-Jamaican Elite, published by Hamilton Books, really is all about Jamaica’s socio-economic-political history, well told in a succinct style.

Anybody interested in Jamaica should read this book, an easy 135 pages. Rosie Mahfood was disappointed to see the book was so short. She had expected at least 1,000 pages about Mayer because he was so formidable, so witty, so wonderful to know. But Diana chose not to identify quotes from any of the people she interviewed in the four years she worked on this book. Diana writes that she thought people would be more forthcoming if they were not identified. To some extent, that might be true, but there probably are more books that will be written about Mayer if only because he was quite incredible.

Fortunately for us all, Diana Thorburn is an accomplished researcher and writer whose ability to analyse and distil information into easily understood text is a boon for us, which is why this book will be invaluable in schools.

Above all, Mayer Matalon was a Jamaican through and through, whose father migrated to Jamaica in 1910 from Syria via Mexico. Thorburn provides an excellent brief history first of the reasons for this migration, then of the lowly status of “nobody Jews” as opposed to those of the Jewish elite with historic roots in Jamaica. She introduces the family with father Joseph and wife Florizel’s heritage, then the birth of first child, Pauline, followed by Isaac, Leah, Aaron, Moses, then sixth child Mayer Michael Matalon, followed by Eleyahu (Eli), Gloria, Owen, Adele, and last child Vernon.

There’s a vignette of what became of each child, and the text is enlivened with details describing how the family coped with their initial poverty, using means such as a roster to determine among the boys who got to wear on which date the only two pairs of ‘going out’ pants. How Eli and Mayer shared one pair of shoes isn’t explained.

The important thing is that Thorburn humanises this rags-to-riches story while infusing her text with a grasp of how significant the Matalon family, especially Mayer Matalon, was to the development of Jamaica’s infrastructure, business and political landscape through shrewd intellect, social networking and hard work.

Oxford and York pharmacies, Mona Heights and Independence City in Portmore housing schemes, even being able to buy rice in packages are all Matalon innovations, among so many other accomplishments.

LASTING FRIENDSHIPS

My husband, Dr Dhiru Tanna, and I were fortunate to meet Mayer and his wife, Sarita, in the ’70s when all five of their children were abroad. Since they were a tight-knit family, I sometimes think we benefited from becoming surrogate children to them to some extent. It helped that Dhiru was working for the Ministry of Public Utilities with Minister Eric Bell and Mayer was chairman of the Jamaica Telephone Company, which was owned by the Jamaican government.

As Diana notes: “Mayer had to apply for rate increases through Tanna; they became friends.” The friendship continued long after Dhiru was of any economic or political use to Mayer. In fact, Sarita used to joke that Pat Rousseau and Dhiru were Mayer’s only two remaining friends, so who would carry his coffin? Of course, the synagogue was filled to overflowing with hundreds of people who respected Mayer. He had more than enough people who loved him to carry any burden for him.

For years I played tennis with Mayer, and when the pain from his shoulder bursitis got too much, he would take a break and share with me stories about his latest exploits and what he really thought about other people, all of which I immediately deep-sixed. Since it was his court, he always got to play with the sun at his back to protect his baby-blue eyes. Of course, when we were partners at doubles, that would work to my advantage as well.

WORKING WITH MANLEY

If there is any weakness in this book, it is because, just as Thorburn says at the end: “Everyone has a story to tell about Mayer. The fondness and awe with which he is remembered is a tribute to the unique, exceptional person that he was.” Those who knew Mayer were expecting to read those stories remembered with such fondness instead of the succinct essence of his abilities and character, though she does include just a few glimpses that capture his wit and ability to influence others, as when she describes his friendship with Michael Manley:

“Whereas his work with Norman Manley and Hugh Shearer entailed advising on financial, economic and investment related matters, Mayer’s relationship with Michael Manley went beyond that. They had been friends since Jamaica College, where Michael was Mayer’s ‘fag’ – an adopted British public school custom whereby a younger boy did personal services and ran errands for an older one. As a result, Mayer Matalon was one of Michael Manley’s most trusted advisers and closest confidantes. Mayer had licence to remind Michael, even in the presence of others, of his being his fag, and tell him to mind himself accordingly. When Michael would get animated or wax poetic in a political discussion or argument, Mayer would jokingly rein him in with, ‘All right Laurence Olivier, we don’t need an act today. Just come down to earth’.”

Yet, Thorburn is quick to note that Mayer’s motivation in maintaining relationships with those in power was not fame – he preferred working behind the scenes – rather, he felt satisfaction in knowing that his opinion mattered and often directly impacted on important decisions for both business and governance. This book is an essential tool in understanding Jamaica today.