Janine
The Leeds West Indian Carnival has always been more than just a colourful showcase of Caribbean culture; it stands as a powerful symbol of the city’s diversity and inclusivity.
Now in its 57th year, the carnival kicks off this bank holiday weekend with vibrant parades, music, and festivities.
But for founder Arthur France, the event carries a profound message that goes far beyond the spectacle. “It’s about emancipation,” he says, “Unless you acknowledge emancipation, we are not going anywhere as a people. Most people do not know what emancipation means. It means to clear your mind from nonsense, self-determination, and coming together as a people.”
Born in Nevis in 1935, Dr. France moved to Leeds in 1957 to join his sister, Elaine, who had settled there earlier. Since then, he has become a central figure in the city’s community and political landscape. His most lasting legacy is undoubtedly the founding of the Leeds West Indian Carnival in 1967, an event that remains as culturally significant today as it was when it first began.
Yet despite its growth and success, Arthur is concerned that the original essence of the carnival is being overshadowed. “We have allowed people who don’t understand carnival to change it. When I make costumes, it depicts a message. You have to do the research and create costumes that carry a message. Nowadays people create costumes that have nothing to do with us. Nothing has changed. People join carnival with different motives and the people who fund carnivals are not interested in its message.”
To keep the spirit of the carnival alive, he organises an annual Emancipation Service at Roscoe Methodist Church every year, at the start of August. The service is meant to remind the community of the horrors of slavery while delivering a message of unity and freedom.
Reflecting on the carnival’s journey, Arthur acknowledges its remarkable growth and impact. In this year’s emancipation service, he noted that he could never have imagined the carnival would contribute over £55 million to the local economy or become such a staple event in the city.
“Those days here in Chapeltown were hard. Our welcome, like the weather, was cold, and our struggles were real,” he says. “Coming together was an antidote. Carnival was a way to bind us together, to remind us of what we left behind and celebrate something that we saw as ‘ours.’ So despite being called crazy by some in our own community and facing establishment pushbacks, a few of us set about making history, though we didn’t know it at the time. This golden anniversary is an incredible celebration, but it’s also a time for reflection. This year I am reminded of the contributors, artists, and pioneers who have done so much, including those no longer with us.”
This year’s emancipation service was attended by carnival board members, community groups, local councillors, and members of the church, reinforcing the deep connection between the event and the broader community.
Arthur’s hopes for the future are focused on unity and remembering the true purpose behind the celebration: “Though it’s a time of celebration and costume spectacle, our efforts to showcase our heritage and history will also highlight how the carnival’s African and Caribbean roots run deep across centuries. Its genesis is steeped in the emergence of a people from the cruelty of slavery into liberation and emancipation. That history is too important to be forgotten beneath the costume spectacle or with the passing of time.”
Continuing the family tradition, Arthur’s daughter, Asha France, has played an active role in organising this year’s festivities. While preparing costumes for the upcoming parade, she shared the challenges and determination behind making this year’s event special despite funding cuts and route changes.
“This year’s costumes depict angels and savannah spirits,” Asha explains. “It’s a tribute to my brother who passed away last year and to all those our troupe has lost. It’s all about making the best of it and ensuring it’s as successful as possible. I’ve been part of the carnival since I was a child and have been designing costumes since I was 18.”
Reflecting on the carnival’s legacy, she says, “There’s never been a bad carnival. Everyone I’ve been to has been brilliant, and I don’t expect that to change. It’s about promoting our heritage and culture. It’s a chance for everyone to see what West Indians can do and achieve. Looking ahead, I want it bigger, better, and brighter.”
