Society in Trinidad for a steelband man
Was just as hard or even harder than that for any calypsonian
Don’t care how you talented, you must go outside
And no appreciation, here society have too much false pride.
—“Outcast”, The Mighty Sparrow, 1963
For a few minutes shortly after 2 a.m. two Saturdays ago, the clock at the Queen’s Park Savannah abruptly stopped and then, as suddenly, rolled back 63 years to the era documented in the above lyrics by The Mighty Sparrow in his calypso classic, “Outcast”.
Suddenly, we were back in 1963, except that the image at the North Stand that night didn’t quite square with history. In a case of extreme role reversal, the ruffians on stage weren’t the players behind the steelpans.
Those players were talented youngsters, trained for the mission, disciplined enough to accept being rescheduled and patient enough to wait for the moment to take the stage and bring down the curtains on a high note.
Instead, mayhem rained on their parade, ending with five young Silver Stars pannists being charged for alleged use of obscene language, disorderly behaviour, resisting arrest and, in one case, assault of a police officer.
Ask yourself this. If the band performing a few minutes past the police-approved time was an orchestra playing, say, classical music, do you think police officers would’ve rushed the stage, knocked away violins and clarinets, and attacked the piano?
From which deep, self-contemptuous recess of the Trinidadian psychology comes the impulse to treat a steelpan with anything other than reverence?
For reasons still to be fully explored, this period in the republic’s life has turned into one of rude awakening, especially for our young people. For those who have been coasting through life with the comfortable assumption that Trinidad and Tobago is a happy-go-lucky country where a good time is always being had by all, recent glimpses into sweet T&T’s ugly underbelly would’ve been scary.
Within the last month alone we’ve had the disrespectful, inconsiderate cancellation of the Primary School Championships which was unceremoniously and without explanation called off by the Education Ministry the day before the games. Similar experiences have been reported among other athletes who’ve had the plug pulled at the last minute on their travel abroad for competition. Then there was the shocking escalation of force leading to the arrest of young protesters. And now the Silver Stars episode which sent some players to the hospital for treatment, to be followed next by appearances in court.
No one is arguing that performers have the right to perform beyond the approved time limit. What is being argued is the process by which the law is applied. What is the protocol by which the police communicate their intention to shut down a performance for breaching the time limit? That the youngsters performing on stage should be paying the highest price for the failure of every level of management, from promoter and police alike, down the line, is truly sad.
How ironic that the very promoter whose response to the brouhaha over a pleasure toy distributed to female mas players in his band was “You know Tribe—we’ve never been afraid to lead from the front” has not stepped up when it matters so much more.
The muted response of promoter, politician, pan sides, pan players, pan lovers, the public and, yes, even the police, who know better, is baffling. Beyond baffling, however, is the championing of this incident by some in making their case for the imposition of law and order on the Carnival. You’d almost think that AI is writing some of these opinions given the alien nature of the commentary.
Interviewed by Marlan Hopkinson of TV6’s Morning Edition, Pan Trinbago president Beverley Ramsey-Moore expressed anguished surprise at the lack of response from even close colleagues on the board of the National Carnival Commission.
She speculated that the silence may be due, in part, to the fear of being blacklisted and losing out on opportunities, many of which come from the State, which holds the purse strings. While she bemoans the situation, Pan Trinbago itself is not providing the clear-cut, uncompromising leadership required at this moment. At the very least, a report should be filed with the Police Complaints Authority.
It is tragic to witness the silencing of a people by fear, especially when that fear is hidden under layers of loudness on meaningless trivia.
Not for nothing was the term “creeping dictatorship” coined to describe the quiet descent, so incremental, that you might blink and miss its arrival.
—Sunity Maharaj