At the other end of the rope…

Q: Archbishop J, is roping off bands a regression?  

This is a sensitive issue and needs delicacy. The question came from a female reveller who held the view: roping off became necessary, since people would enter bands and stay, crossing the stage with masqueraders. And some men—in pursuit of female revellers—would enter the band and not want to leave. Essentially, the roping off became necessary for the security of female revellers.

This is an important point but remember my thesis: Carnival is a mirror of the soul of T&T society. What does this say about our soul? What does this say about the society we have become? Good or bad there is a movement that we must pay attention to, honestly, and ask difficult questions.

The Carnival movement

Trinidad moved from social segregation in 1830s where the planters had their Carnival in their homes and the slave and then ex-slave had their Carnival on the street. The two classes remained separate till the 1950s.

Somewhere in the late 40s one Calypso went, something like:

Jump in d line
Shake your body line.
Young girl doh lag behind!
Jump in d line and shake yuh body line.
Take for instance white people,
Like to play d mas in vehicle,
Why you doh come down from d lorry?
Jump in d line and shake up yuh body
( Lyrics remembered by LM and sent to me).

The person who remembered the lyrics, was born in 1935, recalled that her elder sister first played mas on a lorry. When she first played mas, in 1953, it was on the street and there was a rope around them not for security but to keep the small band together.

In subsequent years, no rope or boundaries were placed between mas player and spectator. In the 50s, Carnival mirroring the soul of our society moved towards social integration on Monday and Tuesday.

Social integration

In 1974 Brother Valentino sang ‘Carnival Story’ (Straker’s Records – GS 163A), in which he highlights the movement in the soul of the nation. Valentino praises Carnival as “the 8th wonder of the world” and describes why. He also speaks about where it comes from—slaves rejoicing and the wonder of steelband.

I said Carnival is the 8th wonder

It surpasses the other wonders by far
The glamour, the splendour, the gaiety
Is what the world does come here to see
Is through the rejoicing of the slaves
Carnival was originate
It was from a talented Trinidadian
That steelband and mas ‘was create

His chorus puts forth his basic thesis about Carnival being the one place where race and class find unity:

Carnival is such a beautiful scenery
Carnival is a gift from the Almighty
Of all the places in the world in Trinidad you’ll see
How all them races does join as one family
But when Ash Wednesday come and pass
The people does go back to their race and class
So the only thing to bring them together is mas’

By 1974, the Carnival was pointing where the rest of society dared not go—integration of the races and classes on the streets, Monday and Tuesday. This integration is what I first experienced when I entered Carnival.

The society had not yet arrived, but Carnival pointed the way and reflected the deepest aspirations of our soul.

How did we get back to segregation?

Today we have gone back to roped bands and race and class segregation. The same logic that is put forward for the segregation, “security”, is the same logic that is put forward for gated communities.

Take Belmont as a community: it produced a president of our Republic and many great citizens who have contributed immensely to who we are. Belmont also had the Rada community that was outlawed because of its religious belief symbolised by the drum.

In a community (read class) of mixed race and income, the school teacher, the lawyer, the judge, and the bad boy were all in one space and had to learn to live together.

This living together formed an unlikely bond where the élite and the poor were neighbours. Being neighbours meant there was a connection between the social classes. It also meant the community benefited from élites who could represent the community, ensuring social services benefited those who needed it most.

When the élites left the communities, the poor and struggling were left behind. Gangs emerged, and then safety and security became the main concern. This further segregated the communities and classes, leading to the emergence of gated communities for the élites. But there is another movement that we need to reflect on.

The false development model

From the 1980s, the Calypso told a different story. In 1980, Lord Relator sang ‘Food Prices’, lamenting the high cost of food. In 1983, Mighty Sparrow sang ‘Capitalism Gone Mad’ in which he lamented the plight of the working class who was “only toiling in vain”. His conclusion was: “You got to be a millionaire or some kind of petty bourgeoisie…or make your money illicitly, to live like somebody in this country.”

By 1994, Shadow would sing his ‘Poverty Is Hell’. Here, he graphically displays the life of the poor in a country with oil and gas money.

To follow the movement let us look at Mighty Sparrow’s 1995 tune, ‘This is madness’:

Once upon a time this country was sweet
People coulda lime freely on the street
Whether was North of South, you coulda always walk
Without the fear of molestation and intimidation.
We had no money but used to live right
The people used to be just poor and polite
It didn’t matter what, we were always taught
You have to honour your mother and father
And love thy neighbour.
Now honour and respect gone through the door
We living in a state of undeclared war
The youths acting like they insane, parents want to abstain,

Shouting out, “Don’t call mih name. I ent taking no kind of blame!”

In the chorus, Sparrow names the challenge. He says:

Something happen along the way, now honesty was simply thrown overboard
This is madness, madness, this is madness, total madness!
Something happen along the way, morality we can no longer afford
This is madness, madness, this is madness, total madness!…

…What’s going on in my country, Lord?
Tell me what is wrong I want to know.
Is hijackers, kidnappers and multiple murderers
Trinidad and Tobago, long ago was never, never so.
[This is madness, this is madness …]

…What’s going on in my country, Lord?
Tell me what is wrong, I want to know.
The disrespect, the contempt, decent people cannot cope
Even the judiciary losing hope
In the battle against the crime and dope.
[This is madness, this is madness …]

…What’s going on in my country, Lord?
Tell me what is wrong, I want to know.
Why we cast aside intelligence and abandon common sense?
With unprecedented violence for which there is little defence.
[This is madness, this is madness …]

The real question is what happened along the way to turn the paradise into something less today? This is the question.

Carnival demonstrates that something has happened along the way. We have gone from social inclusivity back to segregation.

The safety of the mas player is one perspective. The skimpy costumes that are designed to excite lust is another perspective. The roped bands and the lack of design and creativity—with bikini (or less) and beads—is a symptom of a deeper ailment: social segregation.

We sing in our National Anthem: “Every creed and race find an equal place.” But we have made unbelievably bad choices that has led us to where we are: it is the soul of our nation that is in peril.

While we are accommodating ourselves to the situation with expensive security and roped bands, the deeper problem of the soul is left undiagnosed and untreated.