"It would be madness to think of independence," announced a leading Seychelles nationalist in 1961. "We're just too small."
Indeed, so small are the Seychelles, a British crown colony of 92 tropical islands 1,000 miles off the coast of East Africa, that they were forever getting lost. The Arabians of the 10th century thought that the islands were where Sindbad the Sailor discovered the mystical, magnetic mountain in the Sea of Zanj. Portuguese navigators found them in 1501, only to lose track of them again. British General Charles ("Chinese") Gordon, who landed there 84 years ago, seriously believed that the
Seychelles were the lost site of the Garden of Eden. His reasoning: they are the only source of the fabled coco de mer, whose giant 40-lb. fruit, long valued as a love potion, must have been what Eve really fed to Adam.
First settled by the French and their imported African slaves in the 18th century, the Seychelles (pronounced say-shells) could still pass for Eden. Brightly colored fish dart through their warm clear waters, and frigate birds chase booby birds through the heavy air. Under the cinnamon trees, giant tortoises park fender-to-fender to escape the sun. So carefree is life on the islands (pop. 46,000) that few Seychellois work more than half a day, and nearly half their children are illegitimate. At Victoria, the ramshackle capital on the island of Mahe, the town clock, a silver-painted model of Big Ben in the main square, strikes the hour twice for the benefit of those who forget to count the first time. Until recently, the Seychelles' liveliest political issue was whether it would rain on the Legislative Council election day.
On-the-Job Suckling. But things are perking up, thanks to an ambitious young man named France Albert René. The handsome, blue-eyed son of a coconut-plantation superintendent, René, 29, went off to London in 1955 to work his way through King's College law school, returned two years ago convinced that the Seychelles must be free—and that he must free them.
Warning darkly of the evils of a "coconut mentality," he led the islands' first labor strike, founded the Seychelles Peoples' United Party ("Let's Go with SPUP"), came out squarely for "socialism," "nonalignment" and "full independence from our colonial masters." Another SPUP doctrine: that every young working mother be allowed to suckle her baby twice a day on the job.
Most Seychellois are still not convinced that independence is for them, but René is making progress. Through his own newspaper, The People, occasional manifestoes ("To We Who Have Not Yet Broken the Colonial Chains That Fetter Us"), and stumping tours of the islands, he has built SPUP up into what for the Seychelles is a powerful political force. At last count, 1,961 islanders—more than the total vote during the last election—were paying 10¢-a-month membership dues.