In recent years, festivals like Moatsü and Tsüngremmung, once vibrant celebrations of agrarian life and communal gratitude, have been gradually reduced to performative spectacles, hollowed out by consumerism and hijacked by politics. What were once deeply rooted cultural observances are now often marred by an excessive focus on stagecraft, VIP appearances, and the ubiquitous ‘chief guest’ culture.
At the heart of both Moatsü and Tsüngremmung lies the rhythm of the land. These festivals were intimately linked to traditional agricultural cycles, marking seasons of labour, rest, reflection, and renewal. They were occasions for the community to come together not just in celebration, but in recognition of the labours of farming life. Sadly, that life is all but vanishing. Traditional farming has been steadily abandoned, and with it, the spiritual and practical foundations of these festivals are quietly eroding.
What remains is a shell, polished and sponsored, with high-powered guests flown in to deliver boring and lengthy generic speeches under elaborate huts. The ‘chief guest’ has become the centerpiece, overshadowing the farmers, elders, and storytellers who once held the community’s attention. Instead of honouring the collective identity, the spotlight is turned towards individuals of status, often politicians with little cultural stake in the festival beyond the optics.
This shift reveals a deeper malaise: the creeping spread of populism into our cultural spaces. When festivals are used as platforms for political posturing, they risk becoming tools of appeasement rather than expressions of community pride. Sponsored pavilions and choreographed dances may look impressive, but they are no substitute for authenticity.
The result is an emerging synthetic culture, bright on the outside but hollow at the core. It celebrates itself without understanding what it celebrates. If we are to preserve the integrity of Moatsü, Tsüngremmung, and other such festivals and jubilees, we must re-centre them on the people, the land, and the stories that gave them life. This requires not just cosmetic changes, but a conscious rejig of values.
It is time to move beyond the chief guest and return to the chief spirit of these festivals: gratitude, community, and rootedness. Anything less is a betrayal of tradition masquerading as culture.
