A cultural policy for TT

The smug declarations of public officials and academics about cultural diversity have merely been the mouthing of slogans. There has been, as far as I am aware, no articulated policy on culture far less on multiculturism as a policy in acknowledgment of cultural diversity. With respect to the latter, the reasons for the absence of such a policy are three.

First of all, to formulate a policy of multiculturism requires the establishment of the premises of a multicultural society. But it was never conceived that Trinidad and Tobago would evolve in that way. Secondly, a perspective on the management of diversity in general and cultural diversity in particular is indispensable to the development of a policy of multiculturism. We have not even begun to think about it. And thirdly, the issue may have been pre-empted by the ideology of black nationalism which maintained that proceeding on a course toward multiculturism would be pandering to divisive tendencies and anti-nationalist loyalties. The thinking of the ruling elites, both in the pre-independence and post-independence years, did in fact influence cultural norms but not in a formalised and forthright way. The assumptions, however, were quite obvious.

It is necessary to take a historical view. Trinidad and Tobago’s indigenous inhabitants were mostly liquidated in a short time and the cultural history of this country really began with European conquest and settlement and the importation of slaves. Social and economic contact was characterised by master-slave relationships and, in the early 19th century, particularly by English-speaking plantation owners and state officials.

I will not dwell much on the migration of the Chinese or European labourers, since their numbers were few and they were rapidly assimilated over the years into the emerging creole culture. In 1845 the country had already developed a structured and hierarchical society with Europeans in positions of social and political power and economic dominance and the recently emancipated slaves as proletarians. A few aspired to European cultural norms such as they were in the local context but the majority rebelled against these. Indigenous art forms created by the former African slaves developed particularly in music, song and folk drama.

It was into this environment that Indian indentured labourers were introduced. Their advent into the country introduced an alien culture which was officially unrecognised. They were permitted to carry on their cultural practices on the various plantations and settlements without state acknowledgement.

The colonial state had devised no cultural policy because there was never any intention to establish a society, let alone a multicultural one. The state merely brought people to reside here for the purpose of exploiting their labour for producing an export crop. Such residents had no stake in the country.

While migrants were steadily arriving in the colony, their impact on the society and social relations went unheeded. As Lloyd Best would remark: “Due attention needs to be paid as much to what migrants bring as to what they find — in terms of civilisation already on the ground, their nature, their features, their dynamics, their capacity for incorporating and accommodating new comers and the tendencies set in train by the fact of contact.”

There were a number of factors which militated against the recognition of the Indian cultural presence. The Indian immigrant workers were regarded as transients.

They came on five-year contracts of indentureship and, after this period of service, were due to return to India. Their cultural practices were thus seen as a fleeting intrusion which was easy to ignore. In any event, these were alien and misunderstood, derided and for the most part consigned to a state of oblivion. Thus over a century later, something as central to Indian culture as the marriage ceremonies of Hindus and Muslims continued to be denied official recognition and to be regarded outside of the state’s purview. Indian migrants and their descendants continued to be classified as aliens in official censuses. When large numbers decided to settle here and their descendants were determined to call this place their home, the view of the majority and the attitude of the state was that the responsibility was theirs to find ways and means of integrating into the existing social order, their cultural persistence notwithstanding.

In the meantime, the African presence and cultural practices were firmly taking root as indisputably indigenous. On the undeniable African influence in the Caribbean and in TT, Lloyd Best would make the pertinent observation: “The Caribbean is not improperly described as African America at least in essence.”

Despite the migration and settlement of peoples from many lands and cultures, he continues: “However, it seems very much as if the ethos of the place has derived mostly from the experience of the great multitude of Afros whose presence reflected its original economic concerns, whose participation almost fixed the associated social relations and whose responses strongly oriented the psycho-cultural postures of even Euros and Indos.”

The post colonial state still did not espouse publicly a cultural policy but, with the emergence of Afro-Trinidadians in controlling positions, there were certain understandings. National culture was to be defined as to what was indigenous to Trinidad and Tobago which translated into what was developed by Afro-Trinidadians. Thus pride of place and a hegemonic status had to be accorded to cultural manifestations such as Carnival, calypso, steelpan and limbo. Giving recognition to any other cultural presence would be regarded as eroding nationalist loyalty and antithetical to nationhood.

The emerging view was of a monolithic cultural landscape and its centre is urban Trinidad. There was no room here for multiculturalism.

And this perspective has informed successive PNM administrations. Thus it is that in the budget of 2005-2006, Manning gave a clear indication of where his government’s cultural priorities lie. The National Steel Orchestra will be transformed into a full symphony of 60 to 70 persons. The image of the steelpan as the national instrument would now dominate our physical landscape and the design of our public buildings and infrastructure.

Two academies for the Performing Arts will be established — one in Port-of-Spain, the other in San Fernando. And of course, the crowning glory — the centrepiece of cultural infrastructure, will be the National Carnival Centre at the Queen’s Park Savannah at a minimal cost of $700 million. Next week: cultural equity.

(trevorsudama@tstt.net.tt)