Rastas, Rona and Resistance: Reflections on Jamaica’s Faltering Vaccination Drive

Jack Curson

A face mask emblazoned with the Lion of Judah, a prominent Rastafarian symbol.

With a war raging in Ukraine and a global cost of living crisis, coronavirus has fallen onto the back burner of global news and, seemingly, governmental priorities. However, when recently exploring the responses to COVID-19 in the Caribbean as part of my dissertation research, I was drawn to the dramatically varied vaccination rates across the region. Cuba exhibits remarkably high vaccination levels, with around 94% of the population having received at least one dose at the time of writing, a scale which makes sense given

the country’s domestic vaccine development and outstanding healthcare system. Contrastingly,Haiti’s dramatically low levels, with only around 2% of the population having received at least one dose, makes it one of the least-vaccinated countries in the world. Given the ruinous impacts of the 2021 earthquake and the drawn out political crisis afflicting the country, which has left the country president-less and afflicted by the encroachment of criminal gangs into the nation’s politics, this too is intelligible. Inevitably, such conditions make the roll out of an effective vaccination campaign essentially impossible.

Alongside these dramatically divergent examples, Jamaica’s vaccination rate caught my eye. Its rate of just under 28% of the population receiving a single dose puts it amongst the lowest in the region, and well short of the government’s target of 65% of the nation’s population to be fully, let alone partially, vaccinated. Indeed, the neighbouring Dominican Republic has a rate of over 67%, whilst the next most populous Caribbean country after

Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, has a rate almost double that of Jamaica’s. Whilst its vaccination rate may dwarf that of Haiti, the unique and hugely consequential political circumstances afflicting the Hispaniolan country are absent in Jamaica. As one of the most populous and culturally salient countries in the region, the task of exploring Jamaica’s low vaccination rates is a compelling one.

Coronavirus first struck the Caribbean in March 2020.

Limited vaccine supplies was initially the key reason for low vaccination rates in the Caribbean, with the poor dispersal of the vaccines widely characterised as vaccine nationalism. Developed countries were largely put at an advantage as a result of their greater economic power, whilst many of these countries benefited from being the base for the various pharmaceutical companies which developed the coronavirus vaccines. However, as the pandemic has evolved and vaccine production has developed, vaccine acceptance has been identified by the World Bank as the key obstacle to vaccination in the Caribbean. World Bank data highlights that, despite the fact that the rapidly ageing populations and severe health inequalities in the Caribbean render its populations particularly vulnerable to coronavirus, it is Caribbean countries which stand out in the broader Latin America and Caribbean region for their high shares of unvaccinated people. The fact that Jamaica stands out even in this under-vaccinated pool serves only to emphasise the country’s faltering vaccination drive.

There are various reasons for vaccine hesitancy in Jamaica. Many of these are exactly the same as those which we’ve become accustomed to in the UK, notably concerns over potential unknown side effects; issues surrounding misinformation and disinformation; and feelings that individuals aren’t at risk of serious illness from coronavirus. Logistical challenges around accessing rural areas is common across both contexts, however the deep rural communities in Jamaica are more isolated in terms of infrastructure and online

Jamaica received its first consignment of coronavirus vaccines in March 2021, a year after the pandemic first reached the island nation.

connectivity than the UK’s rural communities. Despite the outreach efforts of the Jamaican government, notably expanding vaccination sites into isolated communities through the use of mobile buses, issues surrounding rural community’s access to vaccination sites and reliable information, are particularly salient in the Jamaican context.

Alongside these more generic, even mundane, factors, is the largely skeptical stance towards vaccination amongst Jamaica’s Rastafarian community. Whilst estimates of the country’s Rastafarian population tend to put it at around just 1% of the overall citizenry, that is some 30,000 people, the groups cultural salience far outstrips its demographic figures, with many of the nation’s most influential cultural figures being proud Rastafarians. Whilst there is a far from a homogenous Rastafarian view towards Coronavirus vaccines and vaccines more broadly, distrust of Western medicine and public health is a common theme amongst Rastafarians.

One element of this is the Rastafarian focus on consumption of ital (natural) sources as a means of heightening one’s livity (life energy). Practically, this encourages the consumption of resources grown organically and locally and the avoidance of ingesting chemically modified products. This generally refers to diet, however vaccination, whilst admittedly a form of injection rather than ingestion, is a form of bodily consumption which can be readily approached from such an ethical position. Numerous Coronavirus vaccines, including the Moderna and Johnson and Johnson jabs, were developed using synthetic mRNA technology, and thus are the products of chemical synthesis as opposed to natural production. Moreover, committed Rastafarians avoid alcohol, and ethanol is widely used as a solvent in vaccines. Whilst mRNA technology may be a more recent innovation, wider concerns regarding synthetic ingredients and a broader faith in localised, organic remedies has often led Rastas to spurn mainstream scientific medicine in favour of herbal treatments.

A mural imbued with Rastafarian imagery adorning a building in a Jamaican village.

However, this is only part of the story. A fundamental part of the Rastafarian distrust of Western medicine and public health stems from the history of racist medical programmes, grim realities which draw specific attention for Rastafarians given the essential nature of Afrocentrism to their worldview. One infamous and egregious example of the encroachment of societal racism into the field of medicine is the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, or, more accurately, the Tuskegee Experiment. Between 1932 and 1972, the US Public Health Service, along with other medical and educational institutions, observed the effects of syphilis on a group of around 400 African-Americans suffering from syphilis. Despite the fact that medical advancements meant syphilis was entirely treatable with penicillin in 1947, long before the end of the study, none of the infected men were treated with antibiotics. Over 100 of the participants died from syphilis or related complications, 40 of the patients’ wives were infected with syphilis and 19 of the participants’ children were born with congenital syphilis.

Given such a horrific medical study was conducted by US public health authorities well into the 20th century, suspicion of Western public health innovations from anyone could be considered entirely justifiable, let alone by a group which is fundamentally informed by Pan-Africanism, and thus sensitised to the injustices that have been inflicted upon exactly the kind of individuals allowed to suffer throughout the Tuskegee Experiment.

An archive photograph of some of the African-American 'participants' of the Tuskegee Experiment.

With Rastafarians viewing Western society as the embodiment of Babylon, such a heinous example of cruelty wreaked upon people of colour can reasonably render Western public health systems as one arm of the broader structure of oppression, leaving a legacy of suspicion which continues to impact our contemporary world.

As a result of these ethical principles and historical injustices, hesitancy regarding vaccines is common amongst Rastafarians. Given the heterogeneity of Rastafarians across various demographics, and consequently vulnerability to coronavirus, there is no unanimous Rastafarian perception of the coronavirus vaccines. Indeed, news reports from Jamaican vaccine centres include interviews with Rastafarians explaining their decision to take up the vaccine, whilst reggae legend Burning Spear has openly been vaccinated. However,

Reggae icon and coronavirus vaccine recipient, Burning Spear.

there appears to be a dominant trend of mistrust which is widely vocalised, leaving such anecdotal accounts striking in their aberration from the norm as opposed to their representativeness of the broader Rastafarian community. Indeed, an array of major Rastafarian artists, including Lee Scratch Perry, Chronixx, Cocoa Tea, Sizzla Kalonji and Buju Banton, have voiced concerns over the vaccine and expressed their opposition to receiving the jab. Given Rastas compose a major part of Jamaica’s cultural environment and wield a cultural influence on the island nation far beyond their demographic share, the dominant Rastafarian view towards the vaccine, and in particular the standpoints of major Rastafarian cultural figures, is likely to have at least some impact on vaccine uptake in the nation more broadly.

I highlight this strand of vaccine hesitancy not to criticise or victimise Rastafarians. Rastafarian opposition to vaccinations emanates from wholly legitimate ethical principles and a meaningful historical context. Moreover, in certain contexts, this principled opposition is fused with broader anti-vaccination drivers. For example, Chronixx’s reference to ‘tech heads’ in his critique of the vaccine seems to refer to baseless conspiracies revolving around microchips and tech billionaire Bill Gates, whilst Cocoa Tea voiced concerns over the fast-tracked nature of the development of Coronavirus vaccines.

Dup pioneer and vaccine cynic, Lee Scratch Perry.

Evidently anti-vax stances can be products of an amalgamation of factors, with Rastafarianism forming just one aspect of the opposition to Coronavirus vaccines from numerous influential Rastafarian figures. Furthermore, Rastafarians are not the only, or even the most dominant, religious group in Jamaica, and other religious groups have been identified as negatively impacting Jamaica’s vaccination drive. Media reports have highlighted that some evangelical pastors have discouraged their congregations from receiving the jab, whilst the government has called on church leaders to do more to support Jamaica’s vaccination drive.

Overall, there is a range of factors impacting Jamaica’s notably low vaccination rate, many of which mirror those that we are familiar with in the UK. However, the impact of Rastafarian values is an interesting one which, while not unique to the island, is more essential to the national culture of Jamaica than any other. Evidently it is difficult to rank the factors fuelling Jamaica’s limited vaccination figures. However, it is clear that to get a holistic understanding of its root causes, it is essential to appreciate cultural factors, especially a religion as influential as Rastafarianism, to fully comprehend Jamaica’s faltering vaccination drive.