It is with a sense of trepidation that I greet you on the occasion of the first Anguilla Country Conference, organised by the University of the West Indies, Distance Education Unit in Anguilla (UWIDEC). I still cannot come to grips with the folly of my decision to actually volunteer to deliver a paper at this conference, and it is probably an anxiety attack as Dr. Fiet suggested that may have given rise to the symptoms of the flu and the extended bout of flatulence that I’m experiencing at this time. But despite this, like a true determined and resilient Anguillian here I am to deliver my presentation.
This morning, I will attempt to address the topic “Forging an Anguillian Identity”. Is there such a thing as an Anguillian identity? Why is it important to forge an Anguillian identity? Or, better yet, is it important to forge an Anguillian identity?
For those of you who are not familiar with Anguilla, let me give you a little background. Anguilla, a little low-lying coral island in the Caribbean Sea, is a mere 35 square miles; 16 miles long and 3½ miles at the widest point. The highest elevation is at Crocus Hill, which is just 213 feet above sea level. Anguilla is the most northerly of the Leeward Islands, and is situated east of Puerto Rico in the Virgin Islands. It is a British overseas Territory with an estimated population of nearly 15,000 in 2010 (CIA World Factbook). This figure will soon change as we engage in a census exercise in the next two weeks.
It is reported that Anguilla was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1492, but way before that Anguilla was inhabited by the Arawaks. Anguilla’s Amerindian heritage dates back to 2000 B.C. (Petty, 2008). Recent research into this aspect of Anguilla’s history indicates that Anguilla played a very significant role in the Amerindian history of the region. It is believed that Anguilla was one of the main sites for ceremonial worship. The only remaining carving of Jocahu in the Caribbean, the Arawak’s Supreme Deity – the God of Cassava – is found in the Fountain Cavern right here in Anguilla. Archaeological digs on the island from 1979 have recorded some forty Amerindian villages on the island with major settlements at Island Harbour, Sandy Hill, Sandy Ground, Rendevous Bay and Shoal Bay where the Fountain Cavern is located. It was not until 1650 that the first Europeans arrived and colonised the island, and by that time the Arawaks had all disappeared.
The Amerindians named the island Malliouhana, while the Europeans called it Anguilla, derived from the French and Spanish words for eel, because of its flat eel-like shape. Throughout its history, Anguillians suffered hardship. The soil was of poor quality, not yielding much in terms of agricultural returns, even though it was “good for raising tobacco and corn and the cattle imported multiplied very fast”. They also grew cotton and yielded some of the best sea-island cotton ever produced. Despite this, conditions on Anguilla were far from favourable and in the latter half of the seventeenth century it was described as “fit for little but goats”.
In the 1700s, the European settlers started growing sugar but found that the conditions were not entirely suited for this cash crop. When sugar failed to be profitable, Anguilla was abandoned by many of the settlers, who went elsewhere to plunder. However, there were a few who decided not to leave “THE ROCK” even in the face of continuing hardship and diminishing returns; even when the British made a decision in the 1840s to ship them to Demerara in British Guiana where labour was needed to work on the sugar plantations. These patriotic Anguillians resolved to stay on the rock and eke out a living from their provision grounds. According to Petty (2008) in his book Bless our Forebears “their resolve ensured Anguillas’s survival as a separate and distinct society”; their resolve forged a distinct Anguillian identity.
Dame Bernice Lake in an address entitled “What it means to be Anguillian?” speaks of this identity. She reminds us that:
National identity refers both to the distinguishing features of the group and to the individual’s sense of belonging to it. It is to be discerned from the group’s perception of itself as well as from outsiders. The essential requirement is that there must be shared characteristics common to the people and identified exclusively with the people and accepted and embraced by the people as their distinguishing marks” (History, Culture, Development: What Makes us Anguillian – 12 November, 2007).
We can therefore rewrite that to read that “Anguillian identity refers both to the distinguishing features of Anguillians and the individual’s sense of belonging to Anguilla. It must be discerned from Anguillians’ perception of themselves as well as from outsiders...”
Too often, I hear non-Anguillians express the feeling that regardless of how long one stays in Anguilla one still feels like an outsider. Could it be that these persons do not meet what Dame Bernice refers to as that “essential requirement” – those shared characteristics? The Anguillian identity to which many refer has without a doubt been honed by characteristics common to the Anguillian people; characteristics to which Anguillians exclusively identify; characteristics which most Anguillians accepted and embraced. Many of these characteristics were honed out of abject poverty and political neglect brought about by our unenviable association with St. Kitts from as far back as 1825. Have those shared characteristics of which Dame Bernice speaks been accepted and embraced by our younger generations? Can they even identify with these characteristics of which the older generation refers to with nostalgia? At the Social Security Biennial Conference in 2007, at which Dame Bernice delivered this address to which I referred to earlier, young people in attendance expressed the viewpoint that they could not identify with the Anguillian identity of jollification and the community spirit which allowed another to “flog” a neighbour’s child when that child was misbehaving.
I was reminded just recently while attending a particular church that one only has to hear a few words or phrases to know that that person is indeed Anguillian. For example, when someone asks you “Who you be?” or “Who you fuh?” be assured that you are speaking to an Anguillian for it seems from conversations with non-Anguillians that this practice is only common in Anguilla. While attending Teachers’ Training College in St. Kitts, in the 1980s I was constantly reminded and teased about Anguillians saying in a sing song voice “Aya Lawd”, “Aya looka wuk” and “mi son” common exclamations made by Anguillians. If anyone tells you that “Yuh too struck” then you know for sure that the person is from Anguilla because only in Anguilla this phrase is used to indicate that you are ravenous. The Dictionary of Caribbean English attests to this fact. The pronunciation and spelling “Anguillian” is also the “Anguillian” way, an intricate part of the Anguillian identity; not “Anguillan” but “ANGUILLIAN” with an “i” in it.
What is this Anguillian identity of which I speak? It is that resilient spirit that has been forged as a result of combating hardship to eke out a living out of the rock. It is that spirit of jollification; that spirit of cooperative endeavour; that spirit of community, of caring and sharing bred out of the need to help one another survive. It is that spirit of independence; that egalitarian spirit developed mainly in countries where the peasants owned their own land. It is that spirit of entrepreneurship for which Anguillians are well known. It is that spirit of determination born out of the need to determine our own political direction and future. Many authors have written about this Anguillian identity including our own local historian, Mr. Colville Petty.
Stuart Hall (1991) provides some critical factors, relevant to the formation of Caribbean identity which is applicable here. He underscores the importance of politics and socioeconomic factors in the shaping of identity when he asserts that:
Caribbean culture and identity ... are not in any sense separate or removed from the problems of political mobilisation, of cultural development and of economic development (1991:1).
He further elaborates that:
no cultural identity is produced out of thin air, but out of those historical experiences, those cultural traditions those marginal languages, those marginalised experiences, those peoples and histories which remain unwritten (1991:12).
Moreover, he explains that an understanding of the struggle of the “peripheries” to utilise their inadequate resources fosters an understanding of the role of cultural identity in the process. Hall’s argument is quite pertinent to the construction of Anguilla’s identity, which we can glimpse through a study of its history, culture and development. We are again reminded by Dame Bernice that “History is the story of a people; culture is the essence of a people’s way of life; development is the growth of the individual singularly and in all the diverse dimensions of human life; development is also the growth of individuals in a collective setting.” Hence in order to get a true picture of how the Anguillian identity is forged it is important to examine all three facets – its history, culture and development.
Brisk (1969), points out, quite accurately that “Anguilla’s ethos has been shaped by several critical traditions and socio-economic features” (7). The most important he explains is the “proto-peasant”1 society. Colville Petty, Anguilla’s local historian, amplifies this by highlighting several factors in the first paragraph of his book, Where There is a Will There is a Way. Petty informs us that these variables “produced a society of individual peasant proprietors, fishermen and sailors with great personal independence ... [and] an industrious peasantry” (1983:6). Jones (1936), writing about slavery conditions and practices of the plantation owners toward the slaves, asserted that these practices resulted in Anguillians being “a united people, almost one large family...[who] know no colour, creed, or class” (9).
Brisk, Jones and Petty describe extensively the culture of hardship endured by Anguillians, exacerbated by harsh physical conditions including poor soil, prolonged droughts and famines “which gave birth to a culture of interdependence, of caring and sharing – a culture of one hand washing the other” (Petty, 2006). Brisk surmises that as a result of these socio-economic conditions,
Anguilla’s culture emphasises several key values: individualism, religion, pride of workmanship, close family life and a refreshing egalitarianism which is rare in the Caribbean ... Anguillians religions, manners, respect for law, and individualism stem from Britain” (7,10).
Anguilla’s identity, manifested by these characteristics, evolved not only as a result of the socio-economic factors, but maybe more so because of political mobilisation. This identity developed despite widespread neglect and in the face of increasing domination by St. Kitts which was associated with Anguilla several times since 1825. Brisk (1969), Clarke (1971), Petty (1984), and Phillips (1991) discuss in some detail the neglect and unequal treatment Anguillians received under St. Kitts’ rule, and the discontent and bitterness that ensued as a result. It is this neglect, and the widespread discontent among Anguillians that led to Anguilla’s resistance to St. Kitts’ political dominance and what is commonly known as the 1967 Anguilla Revolution. It is to this discourse we now shift and examine how resistance and contestation has affected Anguilla’s cultural and national identity.
Hall and Nettleford among others discuss the role of resistance and contestation in the construct of Caribbean identity. Movements such as the Black Power Movement of the 1970s, the Haitian Revolution and resistance groups like the maroons have played critical roles in shaping Caribbean identity. Resistance ordinarily develops out of the quest for recognition and in the face of what one perceives to be an imminent threat. Thus in the case of Anguilla, the perceived threat was the stifling of their autonomous and egalitarian lifestyle; in essence the erosion of our identity. Several scholars have chronicled the events of the 1967 Anguilla Revolution, Phillips (1991), Petty (1984), Petty and Hodge (1987), Brisk (1969), but Phillips, once an administrator in the “tri-nation state” paints a graphic motion picture of Anguilla’s resistance and contestation by his use of narrative. Through these accounts, we capture a snapshot of that collective national identity, that spirit of determination and resilience, harnessed as one in the quest for self determination.
The process of resistance may result in the construct of new traditions, or new cultures which may ultimately affect the national identity of a country. Consequently, new cultural or national identities may be developed as evidenced by the Rastafarian Movement in Jamaica, where reggae is used to define Jamaica. Rastafarianism has caused what Hall coins “a cultural revolution” in Jamaica and has resulted in constructing its own cultural identity with its own language, practices and customs. Petty and Hodge, in their book Anguilla’s Battle for Freedom: 1967 inform us that 30 May, 1967, which was the high point of the Anguilla revolution, was “a watershed in the forward movement of the Anguilla people ... the turning point in the development of a new Anguilla ... [It] brought about a complete metamorphosis in the political, social and economic landscape of Anguilla” (1987: 61); in effect a new identity, or a “cultural revolution”. Phillips (1991: 160) confirms that “a great revolution has taken place in the quality of life there”. This metamorphosis, to which Petty and Hodge refer, brought economic prosperity and new governing structures. Once secession from St. Kitts was officially acknowledged by Britain in December, 1980, a new flag, seal and coat of arms reflecting Anguilla’s identity were designed based on the popular revolution flag. The new flag comprises a blue ensign with the union jack in the top left hand corner, a shield with three orange dolphins on a white background in the right bottom corner and a turquoise base. The seal bears a similar design with the words “Anguilla: Strength and Endurance” inscribed therein. The dolphins in the design signify unity. Today, the colours of the flag – turquoise, orange and white are promoted as Anguilla’s national colours.
The Anguilla Revolution has inevitably affected the cultural values and identity of Anguilla adversely. Ultimately it brought fragmentation, transforming Anguilla from “one large family” to a state “which had divided families and friends and relatives” (Petty, 1984: 51), and strew “signs of discord, among the leaders of the rebellion” (ibid: 43). Those same energies that were harnessed to ensure the success of the Anguilla revolution and which were critical to Anguillian’s very survival are today harnessed to maintain divisiveness through party politics. Whereas, during the revolution, people banded together as a community to achieve one common purpose, the post revolution era has resulted in a people unable to unite.
But let me take you back to a time prior to the 1967 revolution when unity was the order of the day. Journey with me back to the days of the jollification, when the Anguillian identity was defined by the jollification and development was founded and dependent on what Dr. Patvin Adams called ‘jollification development’; “a home-grown effective development model ... a community model of economic growth mixed tightly with merriment and national pride” (The Anguillian Newspaper, 22 October 2010: 27). Marcel Fahie in his article “The Sea and We” underscores this when he asserts that “the jollification was an economic event but also an important cultural event in which cultural expression played an integrated and functional role in economic production”.
The word jollification is defined as merry making, festivity, revelry or a boisterous celebration. This implies a party; however, in Anguilla a jollification is primarily associated with agriculture, construction, the moving of a house, or the launching of a vessel. It is a communal practice employed to accomplish difficult tasks which require a measure of co-operation or joint effort among members of a community. When a member of the community had to “prepare or plant his ground” he or she would gather friends and family from the community and have a jollification. While the jollification was about work, it was a festive occasion which commenced early in the morning with breakfast which consisted of ‘cart wheel’ johnny cakes and bush tea, cocoa or stinking weed coffee. Lunch followed later; “peas and rice” being the main staple, accompanied by fish, goat meat, or mutton butchered for the occasion. Both breakfast and lunch were usually prepared on site.
But, the highlight of the jollification was the “merrymaking” which consisted of making music from make-shift instruments, and robust, impromptu singing of “chantees” or “shantees” which depended heavily on call and response, a tradition rooted in West African culture. The men usually led the singing, while the women followed up with the refrain. Similar to sea shantees, the singing set the pace and rhythm of the work, with a healthy infusion of rum and humour keeping the spirits and motivation high, and providing a joyous diversion from the backbreaking task. To put it succinctly, music, song and dance, storytelling, humour, cooperative labour and feasting were the primary elements of the jollification.
The beauty of the jollification was the visual effect of the men in front ‘holing the ground’; the hoes going up simultaneously, while the women followed up with the planting. As Don Walicek remarks in his response to listening to the tape recordings of the jollification recorded by Alan Lomax, an American folklorist who visited Anguilla in 1962, “one is certainly struck by the musicality of a line of hoes hitting the ground in unison with lyrics and a coordinated, steady rhythm” (Anguilla Life Magazine, Volume XXIII, No. 2, p. 46: Fall, 2010).
According to Petty, writing in an article entitled “Preserving our Culture, Directing our Future” (2006), the jollification epitomised “the highest forms of expression of community caring and sharing”. It is important to note that no monetary exchange was required or expected for the work done by those participating. They did not expect to share in the harvest. The only exchange relationship which existed was the requirement to help each other. But, contrary to what many believe, David Carty emphasises that “the jollification was not free” and describes that concept of the jollification being free as “a figment of modern romantic notion of the past which has been enchanted by the rhythms and folk songs involved in that communal activity” (Carty, 1997: 24). While it is agreed that no monetary exchange was expected, Carty makes the point that “the jollification had to be paid for and it was paid for in drink” [since] “no jollification was complete without a demijohn of rum”. Undoubtedly, there existed a real sense of caring and sharing, but Carty asserts that in a time of poverty and hardship the lure of the demijohn was a real incentive and was minimalistic as a reward for the labour provided.
However, the jollification, as a tradition began to disappear even before the 1960s but is still ‘warm in the hearts’ of Anguillians and spoken of with nostalgia among the older generation. With its disappearance, the community spirit and oneness which was vital to Anguillians’ survival during its history of abject poverty and hardship have been eroded. Alan Lomax in his discussion with the local womenfolk at the time of his visit identified and attributed its disappearance to three factors – laziness of the youth, the requests for payment for the work done, and the absence of the men who travelled seasonally to Santo Domingo to work in the cane fields.
Many Anguillians recognise the significant role this tradition played not only in bonding the society, but also in surviving hardship, and attempts have been made by community groups and other agencies to revive it through festivals, among other things. In 1993, the Continuing Education Unit, headed by Ijahnya Christian reintroduced it as a vehicle for cultural education, and as a mechanism of developing that ‘Anguillian identity’ among residents of Anguilla. It was revived and re-enacted as a main ingredient of the Anguilla Cultural Education Festival (1993–2002). Since then, the jollification has been enjoying some attention.
The resurgence of the jollification could have many advantages for the Anguillian society in promoting national identity during these difficult times when so many of our young population are bombarded with, and are mimicking foreign cultures. This needs to be given some consideration by our Government, but any attempt to revive it as a mechanism for cultural development and extracting cultural value will of necessity involve reconstructing it, utilising retentions from the past and blending them with new elements. This reconstruction would not be a new phenomenon, as I want to propose that the development of the jollification was a consequence of interculturation between the plantation owners and root traditions of the enslaved Africans in Anguilla. I am of the opinion that the word jollification was adopted from the Europeans, and adapted or ‘creolised’ by the slaves. To explain, it is the mixing of the festivities of the plantation house – a jollification, and the backbreaking work of the plantation fields, in addition to the ancestral tradition of a communal approach to tasks for mutual benefit. Fahie corroborates this when he asserts that “the jollification reflected the process of acculturation from Europe, but in general the whole event was stamped with the legacy of the African connection as the dominating influence” (p. 86). The jollification then is a cultural retention; a creative response of the poor working class Anguillians to their environment. Rhoda Reddock confirms that “it was the poorest and working-class who were most creative and persistent in their creation and indigenisation of cultural forms” (Shepherd and Richards, 2002: 115. My theory has not been exhaustively researched, but has some merit and could be the basis for continued research about the origins of this tradition and the cultural forms that have survived during its practice.
Many countries in the region boast similar cultural formations, known to us by other names. In Tobago this phenomenon is known as ‘len han’ (lend hand); in Montserrat, the Grenadines and Grenada the maroon: in St. Lucia and Dominica, koudmen, and in Trinidad and Guyana similar names exist – the gayap and kayap or kiap; attesting to the evolution of jollification from common cultural and historical roots. In Jamaica, it is simply called partnership or ‘pardner’ [hand], a term which highlights the basic element of the jollification, but which does not conjure up any pictures or the stir one’s imagination or curiosity like our native jollification.
No discourse about forging an Anguillian identity is complete without mention of our lifelong association with the sea. Our seafaring heritage goes way back to our Amerindian heritage; it is in our blood and therefore it is unable to be severed. Because of the inadequate agricultural conditions on Anguilla, Anguillians forged a relationship with the sea which was critical to our very survival. David Carty points out in his book Nuttin Bafflin that it was precisely the above mentioned depressed conditions which forced the people to turn to the sea, and which gave birth to such occupations as fishermen, shipwrights, caulkers, mariners, riggers and traders and that also marked Anguilla from the norm (Carty, 1997: 8,9). Our seamanship tradition is therefore evident in our daring fishermen, our ingenious boat builders and our excellent sailors.
Our link to the outside world was linked to the sea, be it to communicate or to transport men and goods to and from Anguilla. It is this dependency on the sea that ensured that Anguillians developed a love affair with the sea which has outlasted the hardship which they endured throughout the centuries. Our love affair with the sea is the reason why Anguillians seize every opportunity to have a boat race – a race which utilises rules only unique to Anguilla. This tradition was born out of those days traversing the sea to and from Santo Domingo where our forefathers went to cut sugar cane. As the womenfolk welcomed their men on their return from Santo Domingo, the atmosphere was like a jollification. Today, this jollification spirit has been transferred to what is now known as the biggest Caribbean Beach Party at Sandy Ground on August Monday as we wait for the boats to return from a race.
Hence, the jollification was also linked to the sea. Launching of a boat required joint effort and was a big thing in Anguilla and so the jollification, complete with feasting dancing and singing of shantees was employed as a method of getting the task done.
Currently, the Department of Youth and Culture in the Ministry of Social Development is seeking to ensure that those cultural elements which we value and those characteristics and traits inherent to the Anguillian psyche are preserved and promoted through the development of a national cultural policy and the recent undertaking of a national exercise to concretise our national symbols. Will those cultural elements which we claim to value stand the test of time or will they succumb to the increasing pressures of globalisation, thus giving way to new phenomena?
At this juncture in the 21st century of increasing globalisation, technological advancement, and an embattled financial climate, is forging a national identity really important? Could this Anguillian identity of which most Anguillians speak be in jeopardy? Or will the Anguillian identity forged throughout the centuries be enough to see us through? Take a moment and ponder on this question. Have we done enough as a nation to transmit those values; those cultural traits; those distinguishable characteristics to ensure the sustainability of that Anguillian identity?
At this crucial stage of our development, the critical question is “what role can ‘jollification’ play in encouraging co-operative approaches to advance national development?” Can that jollification development model of which Dr. Adams speak be used as a mechanism to strengthen national enterprise? How can we use the jollification concept as fodder for cultural enrichment and for developing and enhancing our cultural, tourism, and economic product? What role, if any, can the jollification play in addressing the social woes with which we are faced today? In essence can this aspect of the ‘Anguillian identity’ be harnessed and traded for social, cultural and economic capital?
As I come to the end of my presentation, the lyrics of one popular song comes to mind, “there are more questions than answers”. But, these are all pertinent questions which can provoke much needed national discourse and which may provide relevant answers for the crisis we face as a nation. As we face the challenges of these difficult times of economic hardship let us as a people harness that spirit of jollification and put our hands to the plough so to speak because it is jollification time. Let us like our forefathers cherish the rock, and not give it up for the moist promise of Demerara or America, for it is our true foundation.
1 Neither peasant nor proletariat. (See footnotes in Brisk, 1969: 7). Anguillians eked out their living by engaging in subsistence farming augmented by a few traditional industries like boat building and fishing and remittances sent from those who emigrated to work.
Anguillian Newspaper. Volume 12: No. 41.
Brisk, William, J. (1969) The Dilemma of a Ministate: Anguilla. Columbia: Institute of International Studies.
Carty, David. (1997) Nuttin Bafflin: The Story of the Anguilla Racing Boat. Anguilla.
Clarke, Colin G. (1971) Political Fragmentation in the Caribbean. The Canadian Geographer, 15 (1) 13-29.
Marcel Fahie (1981-1985) The Sea and We. Anguilla Archaeological and Historical Review.
Hall, Stuart (1981) Myths of Caribbean Identity. The Open University: The Walter Rodney Memorial Lecture.
Hodge N. & Petty, C. L. (1987) Anguilla’s Battle for Freedom: 1967. Anguilla: PETNAT Publishing.
Jones, S. B. (1936) Annals of Anguilla: 1650 – 1923. Belfast: Christian Journals Limited.
Nettleford, Rex, M. (1978) Caribbean Cultural Identity: The Case of Jamaica – An Essay in Cultural Dynamics. Jamaica: Institute of Jamaica.
Petty, Colville L. (1984) Anguilla: Where There is a Will There is a Way. Surrey: Express Lithographics.
Petty, Colville L. (2006) Preserving our Culture, Directing our Future, www.anguillaguide.com, published 23 June, accessed on 19 June, 2010.
Petty, Colville L. (2008) Bless our forebears. Trinidad: Zenith Services Limited.
Phillips, Sir Fred (1991) Caribbean Life and Culture: A Citizen Reflects. Jamaica: Heinemann Publishers (Caribbean) Limited
Shepherd, V. A. & Richards, G.L. (eds.) (2002) Questioning Creole: Creolisation Discourses in Caribbean Culture. Kingston: Ian Randle Publishers.
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