In the aftermath of the chaotic execution of CARIFESTA V, held in Barbados in 1981, the Tom Adams administration established the National Cultural Foundation (NCF) to bring some kind of order to such undertakings.
In its early days the NCF fulfilled its mandate, and at one time it was even said by a minister to be the most efficiently run and productive of Governmental organisations.
Somewhere along the line the foundation has lost its way. It can be likened to a cruise ship which has left the Bridgetown Port on one of its regular trips to St Lucia. Some of the crew abandoned their posts to go into the gaming rooms to see how much money they could make; others went into the entertainment hall to watch the half-naked girls wukking up, while the others tried futilely to stick to their tasks.
The ship meantime has run aground on the west coast, and though some of the crew are concerned, those who can set it back on course seem not to care or perhaps not to know what to do. Perhaps they are too busy beating their chests and shouting to let everyone know who is in charge.
In its early days, the emphasis of that institution was on people. The King and Queen Of The Crop, the calypsonians, the musicians the masqueraders, the dance groups, the theatre groups, the schoolchildren, the “NIFCA teachers”, those teachers who have a passion for the arts and transfer that passion to the children; the parents, the “ordinary” people; everybody was important, including the NCF staff.
The emphasis gradually shifted from people to pomp, pageantry and power. It was important how things looked – flyers, posters, waving multicoloured pennants, large billboards, hi-tech communication; there were the almost daily meetings, often as long as six hours.
Apart from Government ministers and other dignitaries, nobody was important, least of all the staff. The artistes were alienated; it was only the relationships they had with the cultural officers that encouraged them to retain any relationship with the organization.
Cultural officers who had been hired because of their knowledge and skills in specific areas found that they had no say in the decision making. It was not unusual for members of the public to ask about matters concerning an officer’s desk and the officer to suffer the embarrassment of admitting that they had not known about it.
Today, based on the latest directive, the officers dare not speak, even if they know what is going on.
The allegorical cruise ship is now a long way from port, aground somewhere, propellers churning reluctantly, making the waters muddy but going nowhere. The political interference, the pettiness, the micro-managing, the supercilious behaviour, the elitism, have transformed the NCF to a point which would never have been imagined in its earlier years.
What used to be an atmosphere of cooperation, excitement and enthusiasm has been transformed to one of divisiveness and discontent, a difference which anybody familiar with the old NCF can feel as soon as one walks through the door.
What the NCF needs is not constant and unnecessary change in its day-to-day running. It needs a change in attitude. They need to understand that it was not envisioned as a means towards the aggrandisement of a select few Barbadians.
That colonial mentality is what held Barbados in a social stranglehold for the first 100 years after Emancipation and was the cause of the Disturbances of 1937. It is counter to the very purpose for which the NCF was established and may be contributing in no small way to the social gangrene that is overtaking this island.
There are two types of people in any society; the Athenians and the Visigoths. The Athenians understand and appreciate music, dance literature, theatre, the fine arts; the Visigoths understand and appreciate material things. Each one has his place in society.