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By Nicolette Bethel
West African origin held at Christmastime, it represents poverty and wealth, discipline
and rebellion, competition and co-operation, creative genius and physical prowess. It is
simultaneously viewed as the quintessential Bahamian self-conception and the best face
turned to the visitor. Like street festivals everywhere, it can be classified as a ritual of
issues and criticizing social ills, while at the same time offering to tourists a spectacle full
of colour, movement and sound; and it encompasses the ideals of family, neighbourhood
Like Carnival, it is a street parade in which groups compete for prizes, with distinctive
music and attire. These groups are judged on their costumes, music and performance;
participants rush (parade) along the two main thoroughfares of the capital, Bay Street and
Shirley Street.
2
In recent years the majority of those who take part have belonged to one of
approximately fifteen groups, about six of whom compete fiercely for cash prizes; these
organize their presentations according to central themes, around which all the elements
that they bring to the parade cohere. The rest, both individual competitors and small
identification told to the self (Bahamians) and to the other (tourists and other foreigners).
Several scholars have examined the ways in which major street festivals elsewhere across
Bahamian Junkanoo tells the following tales of the self: it is simultaneously the
affirmation of Bahamian creativity, an arena for social commentary and a ready tool for
the education of the young. Perhaps the most enduring element of Junkanoo is found in
the competition at the heart of the parade, a rivalry whose roots lie in the territories from
which the groups originate. Here questions of place, land and identity are embodied in
The tales told to the other, although less commonly invoked by Bahamians as
conscious markers of identity, mirror the tales told by other participants in street festivals
elsewhere. These are tales that embody the expected, that promote the visitors’
Bahamians, however, are not picky about the accuracy of these tales, and many of
them are richly ironic. Junkanoo is enacted for the tourist in ways that would be
performers and groups to take part in hotel floor-shows, and while it is not at all
uncommon for social directors at the various hotels to build into their schedules a
“Junkanoo” parade of some sort, these affairs are not considered to be authentic, or even
believed to be representative of the real thing. The men and women who engage in them
do them as part of a job; they are paid to appear, and as such do so without real regard to
designed; the music is commercialized, destined for the untutored tourist ear; the dances
are consciously tailored to giving the visitors what they expect. The presence of the
Here the tale of Junkanoo becomes infinitely malleable, as it was on the Mall in
musicians warming up their goatskin drums, asked whether some sort of sacred ritual was
being carried out. A Bahamian bystander answered that it was. Although his remark was
sarcastic, the woman took it literally, especially after a Junkanoo, overhearing the
exchange, added enthusiastically that each Junkanoo group had its own set of fire-rituals
for the visitor’s consumption. However, the tourist in Junkanoo is a spectator only. The
tale of Junkanoo is far more commonly told to other Bahamians than to outsiders. In this
The first of these will be the very conscious political role played by Junkanoo in
the building of national identity, through its reclamation of history and its alignment with
the black working and middle classes. The second will be the significance of Junkanoo’s
occurrence during the Christmas season; and the third will be a brief examination of its
Of all the “national symbols” in the Bahamas, it is Junkanoo that receives the most
attention. Throughout history, it has acted as a force for the construction of many
different Bahamian identities. During the early 1800s it united slaves in Christmas
celebrations; during the middle of that century it was adopted by Liberated Africans as a
focus for their displacement; at the beginning of the twentieth century it provided
members of the working class with a forum for their grievances; and later in the century it
Since Independence in 1973, it has become more and more integral to conceptions
of the nation. Iconized, it now appears on stamps, customs stickers and five-dollar bills;
restaurants bear its name, much of contemporary popular music follows its beat, and both
an art gallery/cultural centre and the national beer are onomatopoeically named after the
something that is fundamentally theirs, and that its function as a tourist attraction is
...the parade[s] ... have flourished and have become a magnificent, home-
grown attraction created for and performed by groups of Bahamians for
themselves. The groups represent communities with a strong sense of
belonging and collective identity; in this way, tourists are almost entirely
excluded from participation ...vi
Like many other festivals throughout the Caribbean, Junkanoo’s roots are
understood to lie in slavery and the African heritage. It is one of a group of Christmas
celebrations that occurred from the Carolinas to Belize during the slave era, the most
elaborate of which was the Jamaican Jonkonnu masquerade, which flourished until the
mid-nineteenth century.vii
6
These festivals, known variously as John Canoe, Masquerade, Gombey and Moco
Jumbo, were not uncommon in the British Americas during the slave era, and they took
place during the three-day holiday given by the masters to the slaves at Christmas.
Unlike most of the other festivals, however, Bahamian Junkanoo did not disappear during
the post-emancipation era, but grew, as did Trinidad’s Carnival, into the present urban
extravaganza.
It is likely that the survival of Bahamian Junkanoo is owed in part to the relative
poverty of the Bahamas during slavery.viii The Bahamian colony was unique in the
region because it was held more for its strategic position on the borders of Britain’s
enemies in the New World than for its economic potential. Except for a brief period at
the end of the eighteenth century, large-scale commercial agriculture did not flourish in
the Bahamas, and as such the plantation was not central to Bahamian survival.
The result, until the discovery of tourism during the twentieth century, was an
attached to slaves and freemen alike. Unlike their other counterparts in the region, then,
Bahamian slaves never grew dependent on their masters for the financing of their
Another major reason for the survival of Junkanoo in its present form was the
landing of Africans liberated by the British from French, American, Spanish and
These brought with them their customs, and revitalized the Christmas parades, just as
they seemed about to be overtaken by the marching brass bands rather than gangs of
goombay drums and cowbells. The influence of the growing numbers of Liberated
Africans being settled in Nassau and elsewhere began to be seen in the restoration of
percussion instruments to the centre of the festival.ix Not unnaturally, then, Junkanoo is
Junkanoo groups not as an indication of the former oppression of black Bahamians, but
[Y]ou know the only analogy I can think of is Mandela. Mandela being
enslaved for twenty-seven years and being tortured and they tried to
brainwash him and at the end of that twenty-seven years he comes out
with his shoulders back. That’s not the image projected by Hollywood
and it’s not the image projected by even the history books. You know?
But Junkanoo expresses that same spirit that is Mandela’s. And that is that
in spite of the condition known as slavery, despite all of the negative
experiences, the spirit and the dignity is intact and there’s no sign that the
spirit was ever broken ... You can see something in the music — because
the music is a ... An accumulation, you know? of everything that happened
in history, you know? It couldn’t have got to this point without going
through all of the pain.
8
Although Junkanoo in the Bahamas is at least two hundred years old — the
crowning of a “John Canoe king” occurred as early as 1801 in Nassaux — the active
incorporation of the festival into Bahamian identity-building has occurred only during the
past few decades. Indeed, the development of Junkanoo parallels quite closely the
building,xii which traces that event’s history from its occurrence as a dual celebration of
both masters and slaves during plantation times to its current place as Trinidad’s foremost
national symbol, has many resonances for the Bahamian case. What began in Port-of-
Spain as a spontaneous expression of slaves and working-class blacks was taken over and
appropriated during the post-Independence era by the Creole middle classes who now
rule Trinidad, and is becoming increasingly a vehicle for the expression of middle-class
In the same way that Carnival mirrored the fate of the black working classes of
Port-of-Spain, Junkanoo is valued for its significance to the equivalent group of people in
Nassau. During the early years of the twentieth century, when the slippery fortunes of
the Bahamian colony moved it from depression to prosperity and back again, the parades,
then the domain of the urban working classes, reflected the socio-economic condition of
its participants.xiii
9
In hard times Junkanoo was rough, disorderly and satirical, often erupting into
brawls that landed their perpetrators in jail; van Koningsbruggen documents much the
same for the Jamet carnivals of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century Trinidad.
During boom periods — the most significant of which, before the institution of a more
permanent prosperity after the Second World War, occurred during the bootlegging years
of American Prohibition (1919-1932) — the festival was treated by the elites as an exotic
colourful, performative, visually spectacular. Similarly, just as the Trinidad festival has
been appropriated by the Creole middle classes as their own during the post-
Independence period, much the same has happened to Junkanoo. Once the domain of the
outcast, the drunken and the unemployed, the Junkanoo of the late 1990s is led by
middle-class professionals who wield considerable social, political and economic clout.
For many of these leaders, considerable significance is given to the role of the
parade as resistance to the conditions of the black masses. Jackson Burnside regards it as
oppression by whites:
All of a sudden black people can come over the hill and take over Bay
Street and carry-on bad down the main street and do what ever they
wanted to do; it was usually the strongest, the healthiest, the most
revolutionary spirit of the over-the-hill people. It wasn’t the people who
were the closest to the big house of the massa.xiv
10
centres of authority; it occurs at the heart of the commercial power of the white
Bahamian elite. This symbolism is still implicit in the parades. Although today they
follow a circular route, Bahamians still refer metonymously to the act of attending or
discrimination, the site of legislation, and the heart of commerce — and until 1998 the
subversion of the everyday state of affairs was emphasized by the fact that the Junkanoo
parades ran counter to the normal one-way traffic system of the downtown area.xv
For many black Bahamians, then, Junkanoo embodies their best response to the
In his study of London’s Notting Hill Carnival,xvii Abner Cohen outlines a theory
of ‘masquerade politics’ that echoes these epic perceptions of Junkanoo. For him,
Carnival “is always political, intimately and dynamically related to the political order and
to the struggle for power with in it.”xviii Carnivals are movements, volatile arenas in
which the political and the cultural mesh and where, as a result, contests for political and
freedom from care among the dispossessed may permit them to act as safety valves that
benefit the dominant social structure. However, Cohen moves beyond the static model of
the ritual of rebellion by emphasizing the state of flux in which carnivals exist; he notes
that though that model may work for a while, street festivals “unavoidably ... [become] a
opportunity for the otherwise oppressed to make their own grab at real liberation. Street
festivals often carry in them the seeds of revolt. In response, the governments that permit
their existence for the purposes of steam-letting may do one of two things, or, often, both:
they may tighten the restrictions surrounding the festivals, or, alternatively, they “may
attempt to co-opt [them], thus, in effect, politicizing [them] on a higher level for [the
Junkanoo has been used by both the elites and the disadvantaged for their own
purposes; the same festival that was banned in 1942 following the race and labour
protests of the summer was heralded five years later as a tourist attraction unique to the
Bahamas.xx The argument has been further advanced by Bain, who regards the co-
masses.xxi
12
supports the notion of Junkanoo’s serving the needs of the rising black middle classes
during the 1950s.xxii Thus, for the Bahamian, whether participant or scholar, Junkanoo is
not only a symbol of current national identity, but it is also the embodiment of a history
fact that Junkanoo, unlike most other major street festivals in the Americas, takes place at
Christmas. For Bahamians, this provides not only its fundamental distinctiveness, but is
also another marker of proof that Junkanoo was an integral feature of black Bahamians’
That this distinction is not merely a pedantic one, but may have some theoretical
weight, is evinced by Miller’s theory of Christmas, and his application of that theory to
Trinidad. In his account of modernity and material culture in Trinidad, Millerxxiii points
out that for Trinidadians, there are two major festivals, and not one, in a year.
Christmas and Carnival represent two opposing forces which together provide
Trinidad is not alone in this duality, moreover. Miller’s theory of Christmas discusses the
Beginning with the Roman holidays of Saturnalia and Kalends, one of which
represented a reversal of the normal order of life, the other an affirmation of that order, he
makes a strong case for seeing Christmas as often, if not always, woven into a similar
“‘purified’ of [its] carnivalesque elements”, and if in Trinidad “we see the emergence of
first a dualism and then a clear split between the celebration of carnival and
Christmas”,xxv then the Bahamas offers an instance where the two are not separated, but
festivals two months apart.xxvii Unlike Lenten celebrations, however, Junkanoo does not
provide for such an easy separation. Rather, it compresses the celebration of family and
the national ritual of inversion into the same holiday, thus increasing tension.
Junkanoo costumes, like Carnival fantasies, require months of work to create. For
Junkanoo artists they necessitate long hours spent in the “shack”, the place where
costumes are built and stored, a predominantly male enclave far away from the family.
The most intense period of work, moreover, occurs on Christmas Day itself, the Boxing
On that day costumes are fresh, having been prepared over a period of months; ideas are
radical, innovations prized. The group that wins the Boxing Day parade is the group that
both to the culture of the masters and to the practice of Carnival elsewhere in the
master and slave in the areas where it exists; as it fits appropriately into the Catholic
festival.
of peace, both physical and aural; Junkanoo, a celebration of sound (those who oppose it
denounce it, even today, as “noise”), is also a time of disorder, of fights. Carnival ends as
Lent begins; traditional Junkanoo, however, held on Christmas Day itself, challenged
Christmas, providing a counterpoint for church services, giving the working classes a
relation with it. Since 1982, Junkanoo leaders and committee members have been
attending Carnival in Trinidad annually, and it is certain that many innovations in the
Indeed, Junkanoo leaders are divided on just what the relationship between
Junkanoo and Carnival should be. For many, the facts that Junkanoo occurs at night, and
remains in the heart of the city, are fundamental to its character; for these leaders, all else
may change, but these form the core, the “spirit”, of Junkanoo, and must remain the
same.
Accordingly, costumes and performances are designed for just that setting, and
created to be at their best under the unreal glow of street lights, rather than the too-
revealing light of full day. This view is fundamentally political; for these leaders
Junkanoo is most significant not only in its Afrocentricity but in its role in resistance, its
unruly history, and its challenge of the status quo. The leaders who hold this view tend
also to stress the primacy of drums and cowbells on the parade, as well as favouring the
use of indigenous Bahamian Junkanoo materials such as crepe paper and cardboard in the
For others, however neither night-time nor Bay Street is fundamental to the
parade; rather, Junkanoo’s meaning lies in its visual artistry. The past is less central to
these leaders than the future (the “evolution” or “development”) of Junkanoo. Inspired
stadium and a moving of the judging to daylight hours, when skill in costuming might be
best appreciated.
16
These leaders were not at all averse to incorporating brass sections, long
considered taboo by traditionalists, into their groups during the early 1990s, and were
among the first to sanction the use of melody as a means of illuminating their theme;
today, they focus less on the traditional polyrhythms of Junkanoo music, but insist rather
on creating a quick beat that shows off the mobility of their costumes to its best
Carnival, although they see the distinction as lying in the nature, rather than the form, of
the Bahamian festival. As Gus Cooper has pointed out, Junkanoo, unlike Carnival,
retains the connection between artist and performer. In Trinidad, it is possible to have
nothing to do with the design or production of Carnival costumes during the year, and yet
still take part in the parades; indeed, Trinidadian bands recruit many of their members by
still largely impossible for members of the general public to buy Junkanoo costumes, thus
respect as well. Modern Trinidadian Carnival is renowned for having been “taken over”
Despite the fact that many women participate in various ways, from the peripherally sexy
The vast majority of the major leaders, designers and musicians are men, as are all
the most important free dancers in Junkanoo. What is more, although the choreographed
dancers are popular with the crowds, among Junkanoos themselves they are often seen as
window-dressing, little more — hooks to attract judges so that they can be captured more
My position as a researcher of Junkanoo was made both more peripheral and less
threatening by the fact that I was female; as recently as the twenty-fifth Independence
although I was given the task of announcing to the Junkanoos that it was time for them to
enter the arena, that responsibility was taken away from me by the musical director of the
show, a Junkanoo himself, because “these guys funny, they might not listen to a woman”.
During the summer of 1994, the Bahamas was featured at the Smithsonian Institution’s
Festival of American Folklife. This event, an annual occurrence in the American capital,
is a large fair in which representatives of various nations and peoples display their
cultures.
18
participating cultures are displayed in various areas of the Mall in Washington, and are
than normally occurred. Preparations for the Smithsonian Festival forced a completely
new perspective onto Bahamian conceptions of the self, and required a considerable
The Bahamas’ involvement in the festival had the effect of changing significantly
the way in which the nation constructed its identity. On one level, it provided a
transformation in the way the nation was presented to outsiders; indeed, this
changed the tales Bahamians told themselves. Central to the change was the way in
intellectuals and artists, whose job it was to appoint researchers to the project. The
and ways of life and identifying roughly one hundred “tradition-bearers” to put these
customs on display in Washington. Their areas were Junkanoo; music and dance;
The research took place between October 1993 and early February 1994. In February,
the tradition bearers were to be selected, but the process went on into March, mainly
conflict. In keeping with the Smithsonian’s approach to Junkanoo, the research cluster
was headed by academics, with only one Junkanoo leader as a member. To be fair, part
of this was due to the fact that the research period coincided rather too neatly with the
most intense Junkanoo season, and the leaders were simply not free to take part in the
research.
The report that was submitted by the leader of the cluster followed the
rather than the most important one. In keeping with this philosophy, and owing to
budgetary constraints (which provided for the participation of no more than one hundred
“tradition bearers” for the entire Bahamian contingent), the committee’s report
recommended the participation of a limited number of representatives not only from the
major Nassau groups, but also from other islands on which a Junkanoo parade of any
kind took place. These people would be available for lectures and discussions, but the
Arrangements were also made for small “rush-outs”, during which the “tradition bearers”
would form bands and give spectators the feel of Junkanoo music.
20
Such a situation was deemed utterly unacceptable by the Junkanoo leaders, who
wanted to mount a full-scale parade in Washington, and who threatened not to attend if
they were not granted that right. As such, the Junkanoo Leaders’ Association entered
into direct negotiations with the Smithsonian and the Prime Minister’s Office. The
resulting decision overrode the committee’s report and ensured that a “full” Junkanoo
contingent, comprised of well over one hundred people, would be sent to Washington to
stage a celebratory parade, complete with costumes, on the Mall. In the process the
leader of the Junkanoo cluster was completely disregarded, his authority replaced by that
festival. Offended by the overriding of his recommendations, the leader of the Junkanoo
cluster withdrew from participation in the project. Almost immediately, overtures were
made by representatives of the JLA to secure his continued involvement — but on the
When the time came, he was fully involved in the Washington Junkanoo parade, rushing
near the front of the group, his costume built and pasted by him under the leaders’
watchful eye.
Junkanoo leaders is instructive. To begin with, these actions underscore the leaders’
Their success in achieving their goals indicates, perhaps, that the Bahamian state appears
to agree with them. Certainly for the government, the power of the Junkanoo Leaders’
Association was incontrovertible; as such, in the conflict, the Bahamian cabinet ministers
supported the Junkanoo Leaders’ Association and ensured that its demands were met.
Rather than accepting the argument that Junkanoo is only one of a range of Bahamian
cultural expressions, the state seemed to accept the idea that it is the most important
national symbol.
can take anything into itself and remake it. One of the most popular and persistent folk
etymologies of the festival’s name describes this quality effectively: the name, it is said,
comes from the taking of junk and making it anew.xxx In the words of Stan Burnside:
[Junkanoo] has everything in it. That’s the amazing thing about Junkanoo,
that once a costume goes to Bay Street it becomes a part of Junkanoo.
Once a rhythm goes to Bay Street it becomes a part of Junkanoo. And
nothing is ever thrown away. I think that that’s the whole spirit of it.
22
References
Alleyne, B. (1998). 'People's war': Cultural activism in the Notting Hill Carnival.
Bethel, N. (1994). Ain't nobody gone take it from you: Bahamian Junkanoo.
Bettelheim (Eds.), Caribbean festival arts: Each and every bit of difference (pp. 137-146).
Nunley & J. Bettelheim (Eds.), Caribbean festival arts: Each and every bit of difference
Bridges, B. (1988). Black Indian Mardi Gras in New Orleans. In J. Nunley & J.
Bettelheim (Eds.), Caribbean festival arts: Each and every bit of difference (pp. 156-163).
Eriksen, T. H. (1990). Liming in Trinidad: The art of doing nothing, [Web page].
March 14].
about the relevance of fiction for anthropology. In E. P. Archetti (Ed.), Exploring the
written: Anthropology and the multiplicity of writing (pp. 167-196). Oslo: Scandinavian
University Press.
USA: Blackwell.
Caribbean Diaspora. Kingston & New Jersey: University of the West Indies and Zed
Books.
Culture.
Bettelheim (Eds.), Caribbean festival arts: Each and every bit of difference (pp. 165-181).
forever. In J. Nunley & J. Bettelheim (Eds.), Caribbean festival arts: Each and every bit
Nunley, J. W., & Bettelheim, J. (Eds.). (1988). Caribbean festival arts: Each and
Patullo, P. (1996). Last resorts: The cost of tourism in the Caribbean. Kingston:
Sampath, N. (1997). Mas' identity: Tourism and global and local aspects of
Trinidad carnival. In S. Abram & J. Waldren & D. V. L. Macleod (Eds.), Tourists and
tourism: Identifying with people and places (pp. 149-171). Oxford and New York: Berg.
Turner, V. (1982). From ritual to theatre: The human seriousness of play. New
Publications.
25
society. In V. Turner (Ed.), The anthropology of performance (pp. 121-138). New York:
PAJ Publications.
Negro societies of the Caribbean. New Haven and London: Yale University Press.
festival arts: Each and every bit of difference (pp. 147-155). Seattle: University of
Washington Press.
26
Notes
i
Gluckman 1956
ii
Cohen 1993
iii
Turner 1967, 1982b, 1987
iv
Alleyne 1998, Bettelheim 1988a, 1988b, Bridges 1988, Cohen 1993, Eriksen 1990, 1994, Harney 1996,
Miller 1991, 1994, Nunley 1988a, 1988b, Patullo 1996, Sampath 1997, Turner 1982a, 1987, van
Koningsbruggen 1997, Yonker 1988
v
E. C. Bethel 1991
vi
Patullo 1996, p. 186
vii
Bethel 1991, Bettelheim, 1988
viii
E. C. Bethel 1991, N. Bethel 1994
ix
Bethel 1991
x
Bethel 1991
xi
E. C. Bethel 1991, Wisdom 1985
xii
van Koningsbruggen 1997
xiii
Bethel 1991
xiv
Qtd. in Bain, 1996: 55
xv
That is, Junkanoo groups paraded east on Bay Street and west on Shirley Street, while normal traffic
proceeded west on Bay Street and east on Shirley. In May 1998, however, the direction of traffic was
reversed, so that now both the parades and the traffic move in the same direction.
xvi
J. Burnside, qtd. in Bain, 1996: 54-5
xvii
Cohen 1980, 1982, 1993
xviii
Cohen 1993, p. 4
xix
Cohen 1993, p. 154
xx
E. C. Bethel 1991, N. Bethel 1994
xxi
Bain 1996
xxii
Wisdom, 1985
xxiii
Miller 1994
xxiv
Miller 1993b
xxv
Miller 1993b, p. 28
xxvi
Wilson 1969, 1973
xxvii
Miller 1993a, 1994
xxviii
Ferguson 2000
xxix
Alleyne 1998, Miller 1991, 1994, Sampath 1997, van Koningsbruggen 1997
xxx
National Junkanoo Committee 1988.