Whether you’re attending for the first time this Bank Holiday weekend or have been going all your life, the joy that carnival brings is one that has political foundations, and its roots in Black liberation.
Sienna Davenport
It’s nearing the end of August and you are on the District line approaching Notting Hill. Your stop is called and you narrowly exit the carriage through a horde of partygoers. Ascending the escalators, the echoes of horns and whistles only increase, including vibrations from the thumping sound systems, accompanied by the familiar scent of jerk chicken. Through the crowd, you make out the unmistakably flamboyant Mas costumes and are drawn towards them like moths to a flame, and immediately, you feel the palpable sense of culture, unity and energy. Knowing the powerful history of Carnival makes the Bank Holiday celebration all the more important.
After World War II, Britain was in a labour shortage crisis. To address it, the nation called on workers from the West Indies to come to the UK to rebuild the country. From 1948 to 1971, approximately half a million Caribbeans settled in the UK in hopes of employment and new opportunities. Many of these Caribbeans settled in the West London borough of Kensington and Chelsea, a then unremarkable area called Notting Hill, which would turn out to become the heart of their community. With growing nationalism and xenophobia from White Brits, racial tensions were growing. This came to a head in 1958, when the Notting Hill and Nottingham race riots occurred. Over this course, organisations like the Oswald Mosley’s Union Movement and the White Defence League, fanned racist flames, pushing ‘Keep Britain White’ propaganda to local White-British neighbours. Encouraged by their environment and lazy, racist policing, fascist mobs like the Teddy Boys brutally attacked an unrecorded number of Black locals on the streets and in their own homes, additionally taking the life of 32-year-old Antiguan carpenter, Kelso Cochrane. These racist riots lasted for two weeks.
To restore the sense of community that the riots had fractured, Trinidadian political activist Claudia Jones organised a “Caribbean carnival” in St Pancras Town Hall in 1959 to “wash the taste of the riots from the mouths of Black people.” This event was BBC broadcast and held indoors, providing a safe space for West Indian culture to be celebrated through the expression of traditional music, food and masquerades. Five more subsequent annual indoor Caribbean festivals were held until Jones’ death in 1964. 2 years on, a local resident of Native American & Russian descent, Rhaune Laslett-O’Brien, helped organise an outdoor festival for all. Local Caribbeans joined alongside the renowned steel drum band from Jones’ festival and danced on the street. Both women’s community efforts resulted in the first-ever Notting Hill Carnival.
Notting Hill Carnival’s roots are inseparable from liberty, counterculture and disruption. Historically, the Caribbean carnival was performed as a collective act of rebellion against the racist fabric of 20th century Britain. As Ernan, a 59 year old British Jamaican says, “For an event that started in the mid-60’’s by West Indian immigrants, wanting a reminder and sense of ‘home’ and relief from the racism, low wages and sub-standard accommodation they experienced, Carnival was much-needed respite. Today, it represents all the good that multiculturalism has to offer.”
Notting Hill Carnival still has the value of disruption tightly woven into its fabric, with over 2 million attendees every year. Physically reclaiming the streets that once rejected them is still important for those who attend today. Sophie is a 29 year old from London, with White British and Black Dominican heritage. For her, seeing the representation of her home island Dominica - often mistaken for the Dominican Republic - makes her feel a sense of belonging.
This is a feeling that spans generations. “Back in the day, before mobile phones, NHC was also a place to meet up to see new and old family members, as well as new people from our Caribbean birthplace,” says Delroy, a 45 year old from Grenada.
From a variety of cultural dancing styles such as whining and samba, to genres spanning soca, bashment, and garage, and food including jerk, patties and festivals - the carnival serves as a secondary home for the diaspora all while flaunting eye-catching fashion and a bold sense of community.
Kaydian is a 22 year old from Stratford-upon-Avon with White British and Black Jamaican heritage. “It’s so important to have safe spaces for Black joy, so often Black peoples’ happiness and celebration is painted as and perceived as violent or aggressive. NHC is a space for Caribbean people to express themselves and celebrate their culture away from the usual regulations of British culture.” One of her most valued memories from the event is befriending a group of girls where many compliments were exchanged, to then noticing an old friend who she hadn’t seen in years was in that same group. Over the decades, Carnival has remained a space for reconnection for British Caribbean people.
Earning the accolade of being the world’s second biggest street party, Notting Hill Carnival satiates our human need for community, made evident by pride through protest—protest through partying. “NHC is an authentic and unique experience, not just for one, but for all islands to unite and has grown over the years. It is one of the very few celebrations celebrated within the UK for Caribbean people, once upon a time there was nowhere to celebrate as a culture,” says Symone, a 44 year old Jamaican woman from Manchester.
The event is held in the affluent neighbourhood of Notting Hill, a part of London that often lacks the flamboyance and passion of Carnival. If you look beyond the surface of the clean streets, picturesque houses and extortionate delis, you’ll see the structural inequality that remains woven into modern Britain. Just a 10-minute walk up the road from Notting Hill, the Grenfell Tower fire occurred in 2017, which took the lives of 72 people, 85% of them being from minority ethnic backgrounds. Despite going through the devastating loss that followed, this only admirably brought the West London working-class community together and further affirmed the need for community power, with Notting Hill Carnival honouring those lives lost with a 72-second commemorative silence in 2019.
Today, the importance of intercultural connection in Britain remains. Coming off the back of the race riots seen earlier this summer, Notting Hill Carnival and the values that it holds at its core are even more needed. By banding together to celebrate the diaspora and party harder than the years before us, we can pay homage to the political roots of Carnival - joy, resilience and liberation for all.