"Wanted Dread or Alive" Bullets and Blood

Entertainer and reggae star Bob Marley, Rita Marley and the manager of the Wailers, Don Taylor, are now patients in the University Hospital after receiving gunshot wounds during a shooting incident which took place at Marley's home at 56 Hope Road.

Tonight.

How long shall they kill our profits while we stand aside and look?

The passing of another Jamaican superstar.

Reggae dynamo Peter Tosh, one of the original waiters, had passed away.

By the gun.

By the gun.

Glory to John.

Let him be praised because his righteousness govern the world.

A natural mystic was flowing through the air that December evening in 1976.

Kingston's Barbican neighborhood, normally a portrait of suburban tranquility, pulsed with the unmistakable heartbeat of reggae music spilling from 56 Hope Road.

What local residents had come to know as an evening ritual was, on this particular night, a rehearsal charged with unusual intensity.

Inside Bob Marley's compound, the sacred communion of music making was underway.

Carlton Barrett's kick and snare, crackling like dry lightning, punctuated his brother Astin's bass.

Their instruments entwined in what was more than mere musicianship.

This was spiritual technology operating under the witness of the Jamaican stars.

Above it all, Marley's voice carried with startling urgency.

His extraordinary instincts, honed in Trenchtown's uncompromising ghettos, were already signaling danger.

Rasta don't feel right, he reportedly said that evening.

The lion sensed predators were circling.

Right now, Rasta don't feel right.

I man pick up on some negative vibration.

Bob.

I was thinking the same thing, you know, I'm going to rest in the car and take a little break from the rehearsal.

The rehearsal door eased open just enough for an arm brandishing a gun to push through before anyone registered the threat.

The cramped space erupted in chaos.

Smoke, shouting, the disorienting percussion of gunfire replacing the rhythms being crafted.

Moments earlier, the morning papers reported it clinically.

Bob received a chest graze.

A bullet lodged in his arm.

His manager, Don Taylor, took multiple hits.

Even Rita Marley, waiting outside in the car, felt warm blood flowing down her neck after gunmen turned their weapons on her.

But this sterile language of the news reports never really captures the psychological or physical devastation of such violations by what many Rastafarians still refer to as Jah's divine intervention.

Everyone survived the assailants, assuming they had broken Marley's spirit, if not, his body expected him to cancel the upcoming Smile Jamaica concert.

This free event was Marley's vision for transcending the tribal politics that had neighbors killing neighbors threaten the very power structures that profited from this division.

Their calculations seemed sound, even if their Bullets hadn't silenced him permanently.

They were sure that this intimidation would force him to withdraw from public view.

But two nights later, Jamaica and the world received their answer when Bob Marley, Rita and the Wailers stepped onto stage at National Heroes park with their wounds still bandaged.

And they offered a master class in revolutionary defiance.

Surrounded by tens of thousands, knowing full well the assassins might be hiding in that same crowd, they transformed vulnerability into strength.

Get up, stand up Stand up for your rights.

People who witnessed that performance, even decades later, their eyes still widen with reverence, describing how Marley moved that night.

Singing, dancing, burning, a metaphorical fire on Babylon.

More than just a reggae concert, those hours represented a national catharsis, a living demonstration that courage, faith and love could indeed stand against violence.

That was the night that Bob Marley transcended from a singer to a legend.

Following the concert, recognizing the continuing threat to his life, Marley retreated to London, not in defeat, but to recover his strength.

Yet this exile, however necessary for his survival, achieved precisely what the architects of the violence had ultimately desired.

They had effectively removed Jamaica's most powerful voice for unity from the immediate political landscape.

And in London, something magical happened.

Marley's wounds, physical and spiritual, became the creative wellspring for Exodus, an album that would elevate him from a regional political force to a global spiritual icon.

A record that Time magazine called the most important of the 20th century.

The title track reimagined the biblical narrative of the Israelites liberation, connecting the historical trauma of slavery to the possibility of collective healing.

But this global ascension came with a painful trade off that I rarely hear talked about in accounts of his legacy.

While Marley's voice now reached millions worldwide, his direct influence on Jamaica's daily political reality diminished precisely when it was needed the most.

The same forces that orchestrated that violence continued their control over the garrison communities, perpetuating the very same divisions that Marley had sought to heal his physical absence creating a vacuum that no other voice could fill with equal moral authority.

Until his death in 1981, when Peter Tosh would finally emerge as reggae's new guardian.

One can't help wondering how Jamaica might have been different had Marley remained physically present as a counterbalanced Michael Manley and Edward Seaga, these political strongmen, the system couldn't kill Bob Marley, but they succeeded in something perhaps more insidious.

They ensured that a prophet who belonged to Jamaica would instead belong to the world.

His revolutionary potential diffused across oceans rather than concentrated where it first took root.

That night, the gunman sent a message.

With every bullet fired at Marley's home at 56 Hope Road.

Nowhere in Jamaica was safe.

No sanctuary respected, no boundary uncrossable.

Bob learned that sometimes the most painful choice is the only choice, when a father's love must calculate the mathematics of absence.

What happened after that shooting?

Were there messages sent with unspoken offers?

Did Marley receive assurances that no harm would come to his wife and young children if he recused himself from Jamaica's immediate struggles?

History recorded no such meetings.

But the evidence lives in the changed lyrics of his song.

A subtle acknowledgment hidden in plain sight, pressed into vinyl on Bob Marley's 1977 rendition of Curtis Mayfield's Keep on Moving, which Bob first recorded with the Wailers in 1971.

Lord, I've gotta keep on moving Lord, I've gotta get on down Lord, I gotta keep on moving Where I can't be found Lord, they're coming after me the song tells the story of a man falsely accused of murder, forced to flee his home and his family to become a ghost in his own narrative.

In the song's second verse, where Mayfield sings of separation's inevitable pain.

I've got two boys and a woman they're gonna suffer now Marley's version proclaims a different I've got two boys and a woman and I know they won't suffer now and what strikes me about this simple change of lyrics is that it inverts the entire emotional landscape of the song.

The original carries the burden of guilt, a man reckoning with the pain his absence will cause.

But Marley's revision, by contrast, declares how this departure was itself a form of protection, a sacrifice made to ensure his family's safety.

I know they won't suffer now the price of this knowledge was his exile, a quiet confession hidden within a borrowed story.

And still that same verse ends with one final prayer and lord, forgive me for not going back But I'll be there anyhow I'll be there anyhow speaks to that mysterious transcendence that defies physical separation.

A declaration that love creates its own geography, that the heart can stand guard even when the body cannot.

And the question of who wanted Bob Marley dead still echoes through Jamaica's blood soaked political battlefield.

That 1976 Smile Jamaica concert, though draped in the rhetoric of neutrality, had become part of a power grab by Michael Manley and his People's National Party.

Bob's peaceful intentions corrupted by the island's tribal politics.

First, when the ruling PNP prominently featured the name of the cultural section of the Prime Minister's office, right alongside Marley's name on all concert posters and promotions, giving the false impression that Bob somehow stood side by side with the pnp.

Then, as further provocation, Michael Manley called for a snap election just 10 days after the Smile Jamaica concert, hoping to piggyback off the show's popularity and his party's connection to the free event.

Meanwhile, the Jamaican Labor Party, the JLP and opposition leader Edward Seaga became incensed that the PNP was using the Smile Jamaica concert to play a game of political one upsmanship.

You see, Edward Seaga didn't play games and he wanted that show stopped at any cost.

Evidence surrounding the Marley shooting pointed to JLP affiliated gunmen hailing from Seaga's loyal garrison stronghold of Tivoli Gardens in West Kingston.

Violent street thugs with a deep contempt for the PNP and deep connections with people who had deep pockets.

These JLP gangsters were trained by professional mercenaries and supplied with state of the art weapons by an ally who wanted Michael Manley out of the picture just as bad as Edward Seaga wanted him out.

A wealthy, overprotective uncle from across the Caribbean Sea named Sam, with his own gang of killers on the payroll.

Ironically, one of the most revealing threads of the tapestry of political violence that nearly silenced reggae's profit comes not from the shadowy corners of conspiracy, but from official corridors of power.

In November 1977, diplomatic cable penned by the US ambassador to Jamaica while Bob's wounds were still healing, the message drafted as priority to Washington D.C.

alerted the state Department about a damaging Reuters report citing Penthouse magazine's explosive allegations that the CIA and Seaga's JLP had orchestrated a prolonged campaign to undermine and overthrow Jamaica's elected leader, Michael Manley?

And the question which begs to ask is why would an ambassador feel compelled to relay publicly available information through official channels and air the US Government's dirty laundry for everyone to see?

The answer reveals itself in layers.

Like Jamaica's political soil, this was about signaling change, about a newly appointed Democratic administration under Jimmy Carter wanting to distance itself from the ghosts of the policies past.

Through this declassified document visible to the world.

Ambassador Irving wasn't just forwarding information.

He was creating a historical marker placing the failed policies of Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford under scrutiny, letting the world know that the island's suffering wasn't just internal but tied to larger Cold War games.

Michael Manley's Jamaica was just another testing ground for ideological warfare, with real people paying the price.

Dated November 1977 from the embassy in Kingston, Jamaica to the Secretary of State, Washington, D.C.

info Embassy Bridgetown Embassy Georgetown Embassy Nassau Embassy Port of Spain Unclassified the following is text of Reuter Canada article on story alleging destabilization and Penthouse, end of quote.

Assassination attempts against Prime Minister Michael Manley.

Article appeared in local press November 4, 1977.

Begin text the Central Intelligence Agency, in a rare departure from its usual policy of silence today categorically denied a published report that it plotted to murder Jamaican Prime Minister Michael Manley as part of a campaign to prevent his re election last year.

A CIA spokesman who volunteered the strong denial said the agency was not involved in any attempts to either kill the Jamaican leader or to undermine his government.

Two years ago the CIA came under heavy attack following disclosures it had plotted to kill various foreign leaders in the 1960s, including Cuban Premier Fidel Castro.

CIA officials later testified to the Senate Intelligence Committee that the agency had not been involved in any such plots since 1973.

The allegations about the Manly plot were made in an article in the December issue of Penthouse magazine entitled Murder as Usual.

It was written by Ernest Volkman and John Cummings, investigative reporters for the Long Island New York newspaper Newsday.

Big up Long island, my local newspaper.

The article, based on what were described as American and quote, friendly foreign intelligence sources, alleged that Mr.

Manley was the target of a secret CIA operation ordered by former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger to oust him from office.

It's said the CIA began a two year long campaign in autumn 1975 when former President Ford apparently gave his approval to a reported request from Dr.

Kissinger for a covert operation against the manly government.

The CIA scheme was hatched because of American uneasiness over Mr.

Manley's quote, sharp leftward turn following his election in 1972.

According to the authorities, they said Mr.

Manley's open admiration for Cuba's Dr.

Castro and his plans to exert greater control over the bauxite industry spurred attempts to get rid of him.

Okay, let's pause for a minute here.

The root cause of this alleged destabilization plot reveals itself with sharp clarity.

It was always about money and power.

The recently appointed ambassador's cable to the State Department spills insider revelations like a new cast member appearing on their first reality show's reunion episode.

Finally pulling back the curtain on what truly happened behind the scenes, Reuters leads with a curious detail that the CIA broke their usual policy of silence to deny involvement in the plot to overthrow Jamaica's Prime Minister Michael Manley.

Note the careful they don't deny a coup attempt occurred, just that they weren't involved and this, we're not involved.

We're just friends.

Defense might have worked in 1977, before Netflix and streaming services made us all intelligence experts.

But now we've collectively watched every Jason Bourne film enough times to recognize the pattern.

The reality of these covert operations is far more sophisticated than just men in suits from Langley showing up in Kingston posting Craigslist ads, seeking experienced local gunmen to destabilize government.

We understand plausible deniability, how agencies hire independent contractors, retired military personnel and former spies to execute these operations.

And payment comes in unmarked cash left in airport or train station lockers.

No paper trail, no loose ends.

And for their Caribbean operations, the CIA's contractors of choice, as we'll learn, were often exiled members of President Batista's Cuban secret police, the Bureau for the Repression of Communist Activities.

Their brutal legacy includes thousands of tortured and murdered Cubans, ironically helping elevate Fidel Castro to power through their excesses.

The priority message to Washington D.C.

revealed Reuters claim that the CIA's plot stemmed from Manley's admiration for Cuban President Fidel Castro and the Jamaican Prime Minister's desire to exert greater control over the island's bauxite industry.

This ore, vital for aluminum production, represents one of the island's most valuable resources.

The audacity is stunning simply because a Jamaican leader wanted control over his own country's natural resource rather than signing them away to US Mining companies.

Henry Kissinger apparently declared asymmetrical warfare, handing the island over to street gangs and economic turmoil.

As Yogi Berra might.

It's deja vu all over again.

Isn't our country still willing to let countries collapse if they don't surrender their mineral rights to US Interests?

Now, getting back to the ambassador's message.

During the fall of 1975, President Ford apparently gave his approval to Kissinger's request for a covert operation against the Manly government and ordered CIA Director William Colby to handle the operation under Kissinger.

The author said that the plot, estimated by some US intelligence sources to cost $10 million, included three planned attempts on Mr.

Manley's secret financial support for his political opponents.

Opponents creation of economic and labor unrest and smuggling of arms to anti Manly forces.

One assassination plot, in which the Prime Minister was to be killed by Cuban exiles in Toronto, was planned for September 23rd during a Canadian visit, but it was called off when Canadian security police got wind of it.

The other two were planned for Jamaica last July and December.

The more serious attack, the article says, was carried out last December on the eve of Mr.

Manley's re election, it said a dozen hardened gunmen, end of quote, were sent to Jamaica house, which contained Mr.

Manley's office and quarters.

The attack failed because the gunmen quarreled Amongst themselves and Mr.

Manly, taking advantage of the resulting disarray, fled his quarters to safety, the author said.

But by early summer that year, the CIA operation was beginning to become something of a joke in Jamaica and the assassination attempts were acts of desperation.

The article said it was only a combination of CIA ineptitude, luck and circumstances that enabled Manly and his government to avoid collapse.

The authors told a press conference that they turned over to Penthouse a list of CIA agents in Jamaica.

The authors and the magazine decided against identifying the agents because they felt the names would not add anything to the article.

In response to questions, they said they happened on the alleged Jamaica campaign while investigating activities of the CIA's so called front companies in Florida.

Signed, Ambassador Irving.

Ambassador Irving's message details multiple CIA orchestrated assassination attempts mentioned in the news report and that Manley's government avoided collapse through a combination of CIA incompetence and sheer luck.

What's most revealing is the timing of the most serious attempt on Manley's life.

In December 1976, on the eve of the election that was less than two weeks after the attempt on Bob Marley's life.

Marley's compound at 56 Hope Road stood just a short walk from Jamaica House at 36 Hope Road, where Manley was to be executed.

Could the Marley assassination attempt have been more than just an effort to stop the Smile Jamaica concert?

Perhaps it was a test run for a full coup scheduled the following week.

These dark allegations, originally published in Penthouse magazine, gained legitimacy when Frederick Irving documented them in permanent government records.

Irving served as Jamaica's ambassador for two years, in 1977 and 1978, following a posting in Iceland.

In a 2013 Foreign affairs oral history interview, he revealed his extraordinary life story.

A World War II veteran who joined the Air Force after high school and became one of their finest navigators.

On his 37th bombing mission, Irving was shot down over Hungary.

And when he hit the ground, a farmer immediately threw a rope around his neck, attempting to hang him three times, but Irving escaped each time.

He was then placed before a stone slab for execution, only to have the gun misfire.

Finally taken as prisoner of war, he spent nine months in a Nazi prison camp.

Yet with all these adventures, nothing could have prepared him for Kingston.

His first two weeks as ambassador provided the crash course he needed to navigate Jamaica's complex terrain over the next two years.

Irving's account of his life in Kingston offers one of the most insightful breakdowns of the island's intricate underworld and how the lives of Jamaica's powerful politicians intertwine with those of desperate criminals, where one group pays for the crimes with money and the other pays with their lives.

The association for Diplomatic Studies and Training Foreign Affairs Oral History Project Ambassador Frederick Irving interviewed by Charles Stuart Kennedy, February 7, 2013 questioner.

All right, well, let's talk a bit about the political situation in Jamaica when you arrive there.

Irving.

Yes, they were two main political parties, I think it was the PNP was Manly and the other party, the jlp, which was very, very much pro American.

I called on both party heads, of course, and when I met the party that was defeated, the jlp, the first thing he said was, I suppose we'll have the same relationship as my predecessors.

That I will keep him very much informed on at least a weekly basis, if not daily, on my conversations with Prime Minister Michael Manley.

And I would seek his advice on matters, end quote.

That was Syaga.

Apparently our two ambassadors had a close relationship with Siaga.

And it was a question in my mind as to who is running the embassy, SYGA or our ambassadors.

So I said, well, Mr.

Siaga, I'm neutral when it comes to political parties.

And I am sure you'll know what I'm doing in this country the same way the government is knowing.

And there are some things I'm sure, of course, that I will not tell you.

So he got mad and said, then you're gonna have a hard time here and I'm gonna see to it, end of quote, or something like that.

So I figured, oh, boy.

I got invited by the Yacht Club for an afternoon coffee.

So I went, made up of all white people, and they told me what a close relationship they had with my two predecessors.

And they assume I will continue the practice of anytime a white person or white Jamaican or a member of the Yacht Club wants a visa, can they assume it will be automatic?

And I said, no, you cannot assume it's going to be automatic.

As far as I'm concerned, the ambassador cannot interfere in the assurance of visas.

And whatever happened before I arrived.

If it's legitimate, fine.

If it isn't, then forget it.

And that was the last time I got invited there.

So what I was doing is wanting to know for what basis my predecessors formed.

And it was evident that they would do anything they thought maybe Manly didn't know to sort of thwart the current new government.

Well, anyway, at my first day at the embassy, there was a dead body on the doorstep of the embassy.

And I said, what in the world is going on here?

So we had the body removed.

The next day, there was another dead body at the embassy.

I figured, oh, boy, here we go again.

This must be a sign of anti Americanism.

And I had the CIA do a little investigating.

They told me that the body of yesterday was a manly party body guy.

The body the next day was Syga's body guy.

This went on, believe it or not, for two weeks.

Each day, a dead body on my embassy doorstep.

So I figured, you know, this can't go on because I had suddenly two young FSO wives are scared and they wanted to go home.

And I really couldn't stop them because they were really frightened.

So I asked the CIA who their leaders were, which I then named the Mafia.

And they gave me the names of the Mafia chiefs, if you will, of each of the parties.

Each party had a military force or police force of their own.

They were the ones who were leaving the dead bodies.

So I called them to the embassy, and the first thing I had them do is give the marine guards all the weapons they were carrying.

Carrying.

And believe it or not, these guys had a total of 17 knives and three pistols that the Marine guards confiscated before they were allowed to see me.

And I read the riot act to them.

I said, I am tired of you leaving dead bodies here.

And if you want to kill each other, that's your business.

But it's my business if you put them on my doorstep and I'm giving you a warning.

You're going to regret doing this.

Now, let's make a deal.

And we had a long conversation.

I finally got them to agree that they will not harm me, harm my wife, my family, or any other person who is with me, politician of any or both parties.

Also, they will no longer leave dead bodies on my embassy doorstep.

It worked very well.

Hearing Frederick Irving's diplomatic account feels like uncovering a forgotten chapter of Caribbean history, one where the personal and political come together in ways that reveal deeper truths about American influence abroad.

Irving's confrontation with Jamaica's yacht club members stands as a quiet yet profound rebellion against entrenched privilege.

The scene unfolds almost cinematically.

A gathering of exclusive white elites, Coffee cups delicately balanced, assumptions of continued preferential treatment hovering in the air.

Their request wasn't subtle.

They expected the automatic visa approvals their social standing had previously guaranteed.

The unspoken reality behind this practice now emerges with painful clarity.

These visa approvals were part of an orchestrated brain drain, a deliberate Strategy to deplete Jamaica of its professional class and deepen the economic crisis gripping the island.

Irving's response?

Direct yet dignified.

The ambassador cannot interfere in issuance of visas.

Simple words that severed connections built on preferential access and hidden agendas.

The yacht club never invited him back.

A small social punishment that speaks volumes about how deeply these informal power networks ran.

Perhaps more revealing is Irving's discovery regarding his predecessor's relationship with opposition leader Edward Seaga.

The conversation with Siaga illuminates a disturbing reality about American diplomatic presence under Nixon and Ford.

Ambassadors functioning essentially as political operatives rather than neutral representatives.

Siaga's expectations of being briefed on a weekly basis, if not daily.

About Irving's conversation with Prime Minister Manley reveals how thoroughly compromised the embassy's position had become when Ciaga declared, then you're gonna have a hard time here and I'm going to see to it.

We glimpsed the consequence of challenging the established order.

Irving's decision to remain neutral wasn't just diplomatically correct.

It represented a fundamental shift in how American power would operate under his watch.

The dead bodies appearing on the embassy doorstep, alternating between ruling party and opposition party victims, serves as a brutal metaphor for how Jamaica had become a battleground where American interests played both sides against the middle.

Irving's practical response to this intimidation.

Confronting the Mafia chiefs directly demonstrates the kind of straightforward diplomacy that contrasts sharply with his predecessor's behind the scenes manipulations.

Yet still, there's something disturbing when I read Ambassador Irving's words to those gang leaders.

If you want to kill each other, that's your business.

But it's mine when you put them on my doorstep.

The deal Irving struck reveals the hidden architecture of privilege, even with his resistance to certain forms of it.

Yes, he refused the yacht club their automatic visas.

Yes.

And he declined to serve as Siaga's informant.

But when faced with dead bodies on his doorstep, his solution protected embassy personnel, visiting politicians, himself, his family, while implicitly accepting continued violence among Jamaica's most vulnerable communities.

It worked very well.

Irving reflects a statement that demands we ask for whom.

The gang violence didn't end.

It merely relocated, becoming invisible to diplomatic eyes.

And for a brief moment, Irving had the attention of these gangsters.

He had clout, some leverage.

And one ponders, what if he used that opportunity to ensure everyday Jamaicans enjoyed the same safety and security as he and his family did?

It's actually heartbreaking to see the way the CIA, the politicians and elites, operated with choreographed precision, not for justice or prosperity for the many, but for control maintained at any cost.

Co signing a contract written in the unspoken language of bullets and blood.

While the CIA may not have pulled the trigger on Bob Marley, their fingerprints were all over the weapons, visible to those who've learned to recognize the signature of Empire's quiet violence.

A violence that flows through visa offices and yacht clubs as surely as it does through garrison politics and midnight assassinations.

When Bob Marley survived those gunman's bullets only to succumb to a rare cancer that devoured his athletic body with unnatural ferocity at just 36, something broke in the collective consciousness of those who had seen this pattern before.

Urban legends and conspiracy theories that persist not from some fevered imagination, but because they align with the brutal reality repeated time and time again.

Voices silenced when they get too powerful.

Bodies destroyed when bullets prove too obvious a signature.

And death arriving disguised as natural causes when assassination would create a martyr.

On our next episode, we ask the question, how did Bob Marley really die?

And answer how the whispers around his death turned into stories that wouldn't die.

A poison boot gifted by a CIA director's son.

Nazi doctors that tested cancer causing bioweapons on a cultural revolutionary.

All just to silence a message that still resonates in that liminal space between shadows and light, between truth and legend.

Produced by Henry K.