THE annual Saint Lucia Jazz Festival is in full swing, and when the music fades and the vibrant energy of celebration simmers down, the country seamlessly transitions into carnival mode. For Saint Lucians, carnival is not merely a cultural event it’s a profound expression of identity, music, and dance.
The crescendo of this festive season culminates in a spirited two-day street parade through the capital city, Castries. Here, both men and women revellers engage in actions that defy conventional norms, pushing the boundaries of acceptability.
However, a shadow looms over the upcoming festivities. The announcement that Vieux Fort, situated in the island’s southern region- and a hotbed of violent crime-will host its own one-day street parade raises concerns. Beyond the usual revellery, lewdness, and eroticism that characterise modern carnival processions, our unease stems from a stark reality: Vieux Fort has become a killing ground, plagued by frequent incidents of violence. What if this particular carnival day transforms into a battle-scarred arena where the forces of evil converge, wreaking havoc on the community?
There is a real possibility that this could happen considering past and present violent activities in the community.
Lucian Carnival, as it is affectionately known, has a complex history. Despite past incident-free celebrations, violence has seeped into its fabric over the years. Law enforcement’s efforts, including displays of force by the Royal Saint Lucia Police, have sometimes fallen short in deterring criminal elements during street parades. As we anticipate the police presence in full force during Vieux Fort’s carnival, we can’t help but grapple with the above unsettling question: Can the presence of the police in full force guarantee an absence of violence on carnival day in Vieux Fort.
We reiterate, Carnival, this vibrant celebration deeply rooted in tradition, has long been associated with the island’s southern region. The pulsating rhythms, colourful costumes, and exuberant street parades create an electrifying atmosphere that draws revellers from all corners of Saint Lucia. Therefore, we ask again: Is it justifiable to continue hosting Carnival in the south, given the potential risks posed by a few troublemakers?
Proponents of tradition may argue that Carnival is an integral part of our cultural fabric and that communities in Vieux Fort and surrounding areas have eagerly awaited this annual spectacle. To them, cancelling Carnival would be akin to stifling their collective soul- a sacrifice too great to bear.
But as noted above, we cannot ignore the darker side of this revellry. A handful of individuals, driven by mischief or malice, have marred celebrations in the past. This question therefore must be asked: Should we hold the majority of law-abiding southerners hostage to the actions of a few?
Balancing tradition with safety requires a sober assessment. While Carnival brings joy to many, we must weigh the consequences. Hence another question: Is one harmful incident-perhaps even a life-altering tragedy-worth the continuation of this cherished event?
Authorities grapple with this dilemma each year, knowing that their decision affects not only the revellers, but also innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire, and the foreign currency Carnival brings into the country via visitor arrivals just for the event.
As the government deliberates, it must heed its own motto: “Putting People First.” Cancelling Carnival in Vieux Fort this year, while undoubtedly disappointing for enthusiasts, could be a prudent choice. Prioritising safety over tradition and the dollar, demonstrates leadership and a commitment to the well-being of all citizens. After all, a celebration should never come at the cost of lives or lasting trauma.
An alternate point of view is why should the majority of citizens of the South, law abiding in their behaviour, be punished for the crimes of the few. Does social order bow to rank criminality?
In the end, the decision lies with those entrusted to protect and serve. May wisdom guide their steps as they navigate this delicate balance-a dance as intricate as the masquerade itself.