Waarom moeten kunstenaars het wonder van de multiculturaliteit uitdragen?
Waarom zouden Surinaamse kunstenaars zich iets gelegen moeten laten liggen aan het zgn. Alakondre-concept, oftewel aan het uitdragen van het multiculturele karakter van Suriname (‘regenboognatie’). Dat vroeg Sharda Ganga zich af tijdens het Readytex Alakondre Symposium op zaterdag 22 februari 2025.
by Sharda Ganga
I think we all agree that the first order of business for artists and for scholars, is to question. An artist, a scholar, who does not question, but just wants to mindlessly celebrate an idea, like Alakondre, is actually in public relations, selling the illusion of cohesion, peacefulness and togetherness. And as I write this, I am very aware of the clichés I just uttered. I have been struggling these past days to find out why I am always so triggered by invitations to speak about Alakondre, or any other iteration of our multi-whatever miracle of a society. Did I already mention that the artist should always question themselves first before questioning others? Perhaps some of my trepidation is caused by my inherent inability to walk in line. If everybody goes one way, and invites me to go along, I will stand by the side of the road and question the invitation.
Why am I Why have I Why do I I Why instinctively Why do I, secretly, still not fully embrace the premise of this discourse? Do I distrust the concept of Alakondre? Or do I distrust the ultimate objective of this discourse, as I understand it.
Excluding cruelty, lawlessness, dehumanization and rights – I am hesitant towards any and all boundaries put forward towards expressions of art. Even when the art is specifically meant as a presentation of Surinamese art on various global platforms, as was stated at the first Alakondre exhibition after the first Alakondre manifesto. While pushing back against the dominant western gaze that for centuries has decided what is real art, what is kitsch or even worse: folklore, are we not creating our own mechanisms for exclusion about who or what can represent Suriname? I put forward that Alakondre is at its best, a metaphor. A conceptual metaphor, framing Suriname as a “house of many rooms’, highlighting the balance between individuality and shared space. A structural metaphor: Suriname as a cloth, where individual threads maintain their color and strength while together building a stronger structure. Alakondre is a narrative metaphor, Suriname an ongoing story, written by many voices resisting simple and singular interpretations. And Alakondre is a metaphor of our potential — the vision of our society where diversity is not just tolerated but celebrated as a source of strength, creativity, and resilience. Metaphors: if only you could dream them into reality.
I propose that there is danger in elevating metaphors and thus Alakondre into the apotheose of our identity or national consciousness. When we see and sell ourselves as a beacon of diversity, we tend to mask the inequalities and growing tensions that are an integral part of our society. Alakondre’s danger can be that it glosses over the lived realities of marginalized people and communities, and just focuses on the superficial celebration of certain cultural aspects. A romanticized version of reality.
Alakondre is a romanticized version of reality.
Alakondre, like the mothers who are like sribi krosi, should not hide our shame of inequality and poverty, of discrimination and greed; of broken systems and broken promises. Perhaps it is also Alakondre’s emphasis on national identity and unity that fills me with dread, and the fact that we continue to emphasize ethnic diversity as the building block for that unity and identity. A resilient society, like we must strive to be, thrives on shared values that guide interactions, decision-making, and collective growth, economically and spiritually.
I propose that we put much less emphasis on the value of unity then we do now. Unity focuses on sameness and collective identity, and can lead to exclusion or suppression of minority voices to maintain a singular national narrative. I put forward that solidarity should take its place. Solidarity is rooted in empathy, mutual support, and the recognition of different struggles and perspectives. Solidarity encourages people to stand with one another, even when their experiences differ. In a society built on solidarity, individuals support causes that may not directly affect them, understanding that collective well-being is interconnected, fostering inclusivity, social justice, and resilience, as people collaborate while respecting diversity.
While unity can create strength through common purpose, it risks fostering conformity, and challenging that conformity may result in exclusion. Solidarity, however, builds strength through compassion and shared responsibility, encouraging active participation from each and from all. It promotes not just standing together, but standing up for one another, creating a society where everyone has a stake in a collective future.
Just to give you one example in closing: the day we collectively and actively stand behind the collective land rights of the Indigenous people, is the day I will celebrate Alakondre. That is my alakondre-fasi.
gangasharda@gmail.com
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