Black Stalin, the benevolent dictator

DEBBIE JACOB

I WAS just off the boat, so to speak, but the late, great journalist Keith Smith decided to throw me in the deep end when I began working at the Trinidad Express. Keith felt my background in anthropology would keep me afloat as a journalist in an unfamiliar culture so when Carnival 1985 rolled around, he sent me to cover the opening of Lord Kitchener’s calypso tent in Arima.

There, I stumbled on the definitive story of that Carnival. The minute Leroy Calliste, the Black Stalin, stepped on stage and sang Wait Dorothy, I knew I had witnessed something special. The crowd erupted in applause as Stalin sang about his attempt to write a smutty calypso to please his fans.

In a perfectly constructed argument, Stalin presented an entertainer’s perennial dilemma: do I choose the commercial, superficial route to fame or choose the more meaningful, less predictable route and stick to my values?

He sang about sitting down to write that smut so he could please his fans, but in the middle of betraying his own values he remembered all the injustice in Trinidad and Tobago along with the rest of the world.

The crowd exploded into a raucous, arousing applause when he reached the chorus: “But once my people keep fighting for an equal share of the cake, wait Dorothy, wait Dorothy wait.”

Stalin drew that audience into his argument and empowered them to think deeper and stand for something. He acknowledged injustice, but Stalin would not look at his people as victims. “Once my people keep fighting with so much children life at stake…” he sang.

Most of Stalin’s social commentaries mention the need to care more for women and children. Stalin would never degrade women in an art form defined by misogynistic humour.

Stalin addressed this injustice in Dorothy.

“Go to London, they call calypso rum music. They say all entertainers today using their songs to help the world, but the calypsonian still singing about rum and women.”

But, Stalin sings, I am going to make sure they’re not talking about me. Line by line Stalin builds a compelling argument that true success comes from standing up for your values – not caving to outside pressure. Playfully and quite seductively, musically speaking, Stalin offers a glimpse of what his smutty song might have looked like, and then tells the audience when they will get what they requested.

“Any time I see a true West Indian unity, I am going to finish the whole calypso about Dorothy.”

But, in the meantime, he reminds us, “Four verse and chorus is too much of lyrics to sit down and write smut in this moment of crisis. My head saying yes, my heart saying no, and I follow my heart when I’m writing kaiso.”

I returned to the office and announced, “Stalin has the Calypso Monarch title this year. No one can beat him.”

“How can you say that?” Keith asked. “You’ve been to one tent, and you haven’t heard most of the songs.”

I told Keith no one could pack more compelling arguments into a calypso.

This perfect soul-searching social commentary served as an example of calypsonians' role as an agitator. Stalin’s power always stemmed from his ability to make his criticism feel justified. He was never petty, mean, outrageous or angry.

Years later at the Normandie Hotel in St Ann’s he sang at one of David Rudder’s shows. I took my children while I covered the show. They spotted Stalin and asked, “Can we meet Black Stalin?”

When I said, “Sure,” they couldn’t contain their excitement.

Backstage my daughter, Ijanaya, said, “I love your song Black Man Feeling to Party.”

Stalin smiled and thanked her like it was the greatest compliment he ever got. His reaction felt genuine. He took Zino and Ijanaya aside and spoke to them.

My children never forgot meeting Stalin. I never forgot Stalin’s penchant for crossing boundaries and creating unity. He did not divide West Indians by their religion, politics, ethnicity or race.

We will read many tributes to Stalin. No one will find a bad word to say about this man who found a place for all of us in his heart. A younger generation of singers will cover his songs. His monumental body of work will survive. I would like his work to be studied in schools as examples of persuasive essays, satire, social commentary, poetry and values for all of us to live by.

RIP, Black Stalin, you are the heart and soul of the West Indies.