Critiquing Arley Gill’s “Musings on the Jab”

by Keith Williams

Arley Gill’s article “Musings on the jab” published in the 9 September 2024 edition of Now Grenada surely provides provocative reading.

Even so, his suggestion that the Jab Jab pageantry should be placed on a short leash and be forced into retrogression causes immense concern.

Gill bases his cultural legalism on a narrow historical contextualisation of the Jab tradition. Accordingly, he postulates that the term “Jab Jab” derives from the French term Djab Molassie which means “molasses devil”.

He reminisces that “formerly enslaved Africans and their descendants created a masquerade [called J’ouvert which started around 4 am and ended shortly after dawn] whereby they mocked [the] repulsive teachings of Catholicism [and fearlessly protested against the French Aristocracy] by daubing [themselves] with black soot.”

Traces of the spectacle for which Gill yearns were still commonplace during the 1950s and early 1960s when small bands of gruesomely disguised Jab Jabs paraded from village to village engendering fear in the hearts and minds of children.

Given such a macabre past, it is not surprising that religiously oriented Grenadians denounce “Jab Jab” as a type of devil worship that should be prohibited at all costs. However, that kind of “holier-than-thou” attitude might easily be debunked by reminding such persons that Christmas was an adaptation of the Roman practice of sun worship, even though no one who celebrates Christmas does so with such ritualistic intent.

During the 1970s, Grenada’s carnival was on life support. Prime Minister Eric Gairy attempted to infuse new energy into the festivities by changing the pre-Lenten date to some time in May to avoid conflicting with the celebration in Trinidad and Tobago.

By that time Jab had evolved from being small isolated groups of revelers stampeding to the beat of drums to huge bands of individuals chipping along the road to the sounds of DJ music emanating from slowly moving trucks.

Things began to pick up steam when the People’s Revolutionary Government (PRG) moved the celebration to August. With the subsequent establishment of the Spice Mas Corporation, the festival improved by leaps and bounds with the Jab Jab masquerade attracting the largest crowds.

No one knows what drives throngs of people from every corner of the world and different walks of life to smear their bodies with toxic old oil or other substances and sing and dance along the street during the early morning hours — come rain or shine. The situation becomes even more intriguing considering the many health risks associated with the practice.

After viewing the pageantry on YouTube, one of this writer’s daughters experienced an irresistible urge to participate in the frolic herself. True to her word, she travelled from Canada to Grenada, got fully clad in her Jab Jab uniform, joined a Jab Jab band, and had one of the most enjoyable times of her life chipping along Lagoon Road and the Carenage.

A similar kind of cultural epiphany, captioned “Grenada’s Carnival Changed the Way I Think About My Blackness and My Body,” is described by an American young lady named Kaitlyn McNab in the August 2023 edition of the news magazine Teen Vogue.

Psychologists might hypothesise that the urge to play Jab stems from certain deep-seated primal instincts that seek to reunite with the AFRICAN archetype. And so, no one should underestimate the therapeutic benefits derived from playing Jab. As McNab explains, playing Jab has helped her to settle more comfortably in her melanised skin and to feel truly emancipated from mental slavery. Prime Minister Dickon Mitchell might like to add his 2 cents to this novel theory.

Despite the lure of Jab, Gill pontificates that: “Starting J’ouvert at 6 am, or later [as is currently the case], is contrary to the norm and tradition. I [Arley] must reiterate that starting J’ouvert at 6 am, and as a matter of fact — playing Jab Jab all time of the day and into the night — is contrary to Jab Jab history and culture. When you paint your body in “ole oil” any time of day — is no longer Jab Jab! It is just “dirty mas.”

Gill’s uncharacteristic pronouncement brings to mind the philosophical dilemma in Plato’s Euthyphro as to whether a thing is good because God loves it, or whether God loves it because it is good.

Gill’s description of Jabs who “ply their trade” outside certain prescribed hours as “dirty mas” is troubling since it suggests that Blackness should be kept in the dark. Moreover, his obsession with “mannersing” the Jab is antithetical to his view that the Jab Jab masquerades began as an expression of our ancestors’ inherent longing to be free and as a protest against injustice.

Although every society should go the extra mile to protect its cultural heritage, “traditions and norms” should never be made to stand in the way of development. This is particularly so regarding the Jab since the carnival has evolved from a mere cultural event to an artistic product.

Moreover, because the festival’s success is borne on the shoulders of the persons who sacrifice their health and wealth to play mas, every effort should be made to develop the product in a manner that shows appreciation for such critical stakeholders.

Since every newborn creature inherits the combined traits of its forebears, the urge to play Jab is embedded deep in the DNA of every member of the AFRICAN Race who was impacted by enslavement and colonialism.

Thus, the idea of partially banning Jab Jab while players of other genres are free to celebrate must be regarded as a non-starter.

One may conclude, therefore, that the notion of relegating the portrayal of Jab to the category of “dirty mas” because Jab Jabs do not strictly conform to certain time restrictions is tantamount to suppressing the rights of certain sectors of Grenadian society.

In other words, any plan to impose whimsical regulations on the Jab will only stifle the spontaneity that gives that particular brand of mas its authenticity.