Defiance & Perseverance of a people

Though Trinidad was a Spanish colony, Spain contributed little towards advancements and hence the country suffered from under-population.  The Cedula of Population was a 1783 edict by the representative of the King of Spain opening Trinidad to immigration from, primarily, the French Caribbean islands - it laid the foundation and growth of the population of Trinidad.   

The white and free coloured both staged elaborate masquerade balls as a “farewell to the flesh” before the Catholic Lenten season.   Africans that were enslaved in the Caribbean came with their own spiritual traditions, rites of passage and religion - which they were not allowed to practice.  They used the opportunity during the elaborate masquerade balls to partake in their own festivities. The popular narrative is that enslaved Africans mimicked the plantocracy which is inaccurate.

After slavery was abolished in 1838, freed Africans began celebrating to ritualize, reenact, share news and experience their newfound collective power.  In many ways, it was and still is, “an act of black remembrance and a reminder to the white elite of the horrors it had inflicted on its slaves.” 

 Simulating the horrors of slavery in a playful manner was a provocative symbol that the elite plantocracy and the British colonial government on the island detested. These party participants continued this practice known as Canboulay every year on the night before Carnival. This determination, despite intense opposition from the ruling classes was certainly a remarkable act and symbol of defiance. *

As leading scholar JD Elder noted, “Canboulay is basically a ceremony symbolising cane-burning that Africans of Trinidad devised to celebrate their ‘freedom from slavery’ in 1838.” For Elder, Canboulay represented a ceremony of resistance in which African dance, theatre and music combined in street theatre as part of Carnival, with stick fighting, drumming, singers and flambeaux.©

Taking to the streets of Port of Spain after midnight on the Sunday before Lent, it was the emancipated Africans who deemed their own party needed to be added to the Carnival celebration that was already a tradition of whites, who also promenaded, masqueraded and danced. The only difference was that whites kept the celebration to their own homes and property.*

Strategically placing this celebration the night before the white elite’s much anticipated celebration, the symbolic defiance by the freed Africans on the island was quickly made clear. However, this unquestionably hastened foreseeable tensions between them and the ruling plantocracy as well as the British colonial occupiers. 

The celebration by the lower classes in the mid-19th century was looked down upon by the upper classes and was seen as undignified and worse, especially running through the streets in the middle of the night carrying flaming torches – dangerous, in a town of wooden structures. A new police chief, Captain Baker, had come to see it as his mission to stop it from occurring.©

A first-hand account of what happened in 1881 was passed on by someone who was there as a child up in a tree watching as the riots unfolded:

“And the old lady told us how there was an old patois woman at the front of the band [who called out to Captain Baker] just about where All Stars [steel orchestra] have their headquarters now. And at that signal the fellows light their torches and start up the drums and went for Baker. The story that she gave me … was that the Canboulay revellers swept the ground with the police.”

The police retreated, and after the nighttime violence, Canboulay continued during the day on Monday. Governor Freeling stopped the police and, in an unusual move, came and addressed the public, and allowed them to continue their celebrations. His efforts had the intended effect. His proclamation calls on them to play mas “with union, peace and loyalty” and urges them to “Remember the pains His Excellency took in coming to our market square to ask you to play peaceably.”©

Carnival in Trinidad & Tobago has evolved & grown over the past century & a half.  It is the oldest & largest Carnival in the Caribbean. It has birthed new music, a new instrument, various art forms, world class entertainment & an experience of a lifetime. 

We pay homage to the resilience, fortitude and courage of our African ancestors who in the face of unspeakable adversity were able to hold on to their culture and improvise and adapt in the face of suppression, birthing new art forms in the process.

We remember canboulay. We celebrate the traditions of mud, oil and the art form that is mas. We honor the elders who have so fiercely guarded and passed on this rich and unique culture. 

Today we have a music of our own. Today we have a festival that is our own – Carnival, an awe-inspiring showcase of so many art forms that are our very own. And so this month we say thank you and we celebrate!