Caribana Was Never Just a Party.
It was born from Emancipation. And it’s been co-opted, commodified, and whitewashed by the same systems it was created to resist.
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Carnival is resistance. Since the ancient ages, African countries had their own versions of Carnival involving extravagant floats and costumes celebrating Goddesses and Gods. Various Carnivals that happen annually across The Caribbean were born during African Enslavement. Out of resistance, Africans created their own carnivals separate from the European ones, incorporating their own folklore through performances of Caiso/Calypso. J’Ouvert specifically is where Enslaved Africans covered themselves in paint and dressed up in satirical costumes to mock their enslavers and, after emancipation, the ruling class.
Caribana began in Tkaronto 1967, created by the Caribbean Cultural Committee, now the Caribana Arts Group (CAG). It was a gift from Caribbean immigrants to mark Canada’s centennial. It was never just about costumes and partying. It was about freedom. The roots of Caribana, coming through the state Multicultural invitation of Expo 67, set stage for the ongoing co-option and de-radicalizing of the festival. Their reclamation of freedom and community on the streets was a political act against centuries of slavery. This is why CAG held an Emancipation Day March in Tkaronto, after the parade was forced into government ownership, reclaiming that original purpose.
It’s Always Been Political. In 1971, the University of Toronto’s Black Students Union slammed Caribana organizers for turning the festival into a performance for white audiences. They wrote: “We must struggle, not dance.” They saw how the violent politics of housing, policing, and poverty that disproportionately harm Black people in Tkaronto were being masked with costumes and pageantry by a higher class Black population, while the state used Caribana to present a multicultural image that wasn’t real.
In 1990, a woman on CHRY radio said: “Caribana is being used as a political tool to present Canada as a multicultural society.” Meanwhile, Mohawk land defenders were under siege at Oka; Black people were being killed by police; and The Royal Ontario Museum hosted the racist ‘Into the Heart of Africa’ exhibit. Caribana became a distraction — not a celebration of freedom.
Politicians have always understood Carnival’s power. Historically, elites used festivals to distract the masses...bread and circuses to avoid revolt. Caribana has been treated the same way. While the state criminalizes Indigenous sovereignty, while police are killing Black youth, while racist exhibits run unchecked, politicians smile and dance at Caribana. They have used it as a tool for decades.
In 2006, the City of Toronto and the Province of Ontario cut funding to the original organizers, claiming poor financial reporting. They transferred control to a new Festival Management Committee (FMC). Then, in 2011, a court ruling banned the use of the name “Caribana” — even though the trademark still belongs to CAG.
The festival is now called Toronto Caribbean Carnival, with almost all of the owners being corporations. The limited Black-representing organizations that are a part of the festival's sponsor team includes Dominica’s Tourist Board. From Tkaronto to the Caribbean, a tourism industry that profits off Black culture excels while the communities are exploited. Yes, Caribana was stolen, rebranded, and corporatized by the same entities oppressing Black Caribbeans overseas and in Tkaronto.
Caribana built a cultural powerhouse. It generates hundreds of millions in tourism and revenue every year. And yet, the Carribean organizers who built it have been pushed aside. CAG continues to fight for control while facing systemic anti-Black racism from the same institutions that profit off the festival they've built from the ground up. Charles Roach, one of Caribana’s original organizers, insisted: “Carnival cannot be cloistered. It must be free and open to the public.” But today, fences are put up to separate the 'good' from the 'bad' and cage costumers into a zoo-like spectacle, Black organizers are still sidelined, white genocidal institutions still profit, and the streets are still overpoliced.
The fight for liberation continues in Tkaronto, in the Caribbean, and in every space where Black joy is political. Caribana was built by Black people, for Black liberation. Now it’s branded, bank-sponsored, and sold back to the community, stripped of its roots. That’s not celebration, that’s colonization.
