As with the death of any father figure, CĂ©saireâs passing became a moment of reckoning. The âsons of CĂ©saireââeven the self-declared ârebel sons,â such as the creolitĂ© writers who had long decried his politicsâsuddenly found themselves forced to come to terms with the legacies of Martiniqueâs great man.1 Novelists, poets, scholars, and politicians offered up personal reflections asserting the admiration they felt for his lyrical mastery and uncompromising commitment to his homeland, all the while expressing ambivalence, if not disdain, toward his political project.2 At a public event in Paris, for example, celebrated Martinican novelist Patrick Chamoiseau paid poignant tribute but described himself as CĂ©saireâs fils dâerreur (son by mistake). Chamoiseau has often puzzled over why CĂ©saire never advocated political independence. That night in Paris, as if by way of exculpatory explanation, Chamoiseau exclaimed that if CĂ©saire had belonged to his generation, surely he would have been an indĂ©pendantiste.
Chamoiseauâs commentary recognizes that the political possibilities CĂ©saire could entertain were conditioned by the political and historical moment he inhabited. Born in 1913, CĂ©saire was part of a larger cohort of Francophone poets and politiciansâincluding LĂ©opold Senghor (1906â2001) from Senegal and LĂ©on Damas (1912â78) from Guianaâthat came of age at the height of the French colonial project. This generation experienced firsthand both the dehumanizing effects of the colonial enterprise and the liberatory promises of its proclaimed end. For them, colonialism represented something that could be toppled, transformed, and perhaps even overcome in the short run, and decolonization was still an open question, to which national independence had yet to emerge as a definitive answer. CĂ©saireâs immediate successorsâthe generation of Frantz Fanon (1925â61) and Ădouard Glissant (1928â2011)âalso held faith in the possibility of overcoming colonialismâthough for intellectuals like Fanon, only a full-scale revolution would do. Despite their differences, however, these various political actorsâfrom CĂ©saire up to Chamoiseauâall imagined colonialism as a temporary stage rather than a lasting condition.
Todayâs activists inhabit a radically different landscape. They realize that political integration will not erase the disparities created by colonialism, but they do not share Chamoiseauâs faith in the possibility (or necessity) of independence. For them, the future is once again an open question. In this chapter, I examine the history of Antillean activism from CĂ©saireâs generation to the present. I show how succeeding cohorts have crafted social projects shaped by the imperatives of their times and how contemporary actors struggle to develop new political projects in the wake of their own disenchantment.
The Search for Equality
From a contemporary vantage point, the Antillean project of political integration might seem like an anomaly within postcolonial history.3 But when first charted, for many, departmentalization represented the logical outcome of a century-long quest to end Antilleansâ unequal inclusion.4 Although France had extended citizenship to the Caribbean colonies after the final abolition of slavery in 1848, Antillean residents had remained âcitizen-subjectsâ for over one hundred years, lacking democratic representation and full access to the political rights and economic entitlements enjoyed by the citizens of mainland France.5 The early extension of citizenship provided black and mulatto elites with access to the French educational system and entry into civil service. But economic power remained firmly under the control of the white planter class.6
By the early 1900s, Antilleans increasingly began to demand full civic and juridical inclusion as a way of gaining greater economic and legislative protection. Their demands included agrarian reform to break the monopoly of the planter class and the replacement of colonial governors with French prefects, in hopes of stemming the widespread corruption and racial discrimination characteristic of the time.7 Placed in its proper context, the search for assimilation can thus be viewed as an Antillean civil rights movement comparable to that of African Americans in the United States, wherein the nationâs marginalized citizens contested their unequal political and civic inclusion.
The main constituency that opposed integration was the bĂ©kĂ© planter class, which feared that extending French labor rights and legislation to Antillean workers would spell trouble for the sugar economy.8 Since the eighteenth century, the bĂ©kĂ©s had repeatedly threatened to break with France whenever French policy appeared to impinge upon their economic dominance. In 1794, for example, the Martinican plantocracy âescapedâ the reforms of the French Revolution (including the abolition of slavery and the infamous guillotine) by coming under the jurisdiction of the British.9 Planters in Guadeloupe attempted a similar move but were thwarted by an alliance of white republicans, free people of color, and insurgent slaves.10 In 1946, as departmentalization was being debated, the white elites openly discussed joining the United States to avoid the consequences of integrationâa threat that carried with it the possible importation of Jim Crow legislation.11
For CĂ©saireâs cohort of anticolonial intellectuals, meanwhile, France posed a radical alternative to the United States, which was then gaining ascendancy as an imperial white-supremacist nation. Immediately following the Second World Warâwhich France fought with great assistance from Antillean and African soldiersâdebates raged in the metropole over how to politically and socially transform the French Empire. Numerous forms of political organization were entertained, including formulas of local self-rule that would allow for the creation of the French Union: a multiethnic federation of over ten million citizens, of whom only four million would reside in the French mainland.12 It was partly the promise of this multicultural, decentered France that drove CĂ©saireâs generation to embrace departmentalization.13 In addition, the postwar years appeared to be an opportune moment of political experimentation. As a new coalition of leftist parties took control of the French government they unleashed an ambitious project of reconstruction that included nationalizing banks and industries, creating extensive state welfare programs, establishing national health care, and extending trade union rights and womenâs suffrageâall in the hopes of forging a new social democratic model.14
The possibilities afforded by a leftist government in France, combined with the legacies of a century of colonial citizenship and the plantocracyâs threats of either succession or US annexation, made full integration the most promising vehicle not only for decolonization, but for the larger project of social justice in the Antilles. The report (drafted by CĂ©saire) that accompanied the bill for departmentalization stated explicitly that the goal was not abstract equality, but a concrete egalitĂ© de salaire (wage equality). This, together with the extension of the nationalization efforts already under way in France, was viewed as the only viable means of dismantling the local plantocracy.15
Departmentalization was not without its critics in the French government. Some argued, using Montesquieuâs climatic theory of race, that French laws were ill-suited for the residents of the tropics.16 CĂ©saire countered this by strategically drawing on Montesquieuâs denunciation of slavery and his insistence on equality under the law. 17 CĂ©saire stressed that the goal of departmentalization was Ă©galisation (equalization)âwhich he saw as a search for equality, not a search for sameness.18
Still, CĂ©saire was not oblivious to the pitfalls of assimilation. In an interview with filmmaker Patrice Louis, he explained that he was initially reticent to undertake the project of assimilation because of its undertones of racial and cultural superiority. âAssimilation means to become similar,â he stated, âbut I felt that for us, Martinicans, the descendants of Africans, that type of assimilation is a form of alienation. And I could not be in favor of alienation.â For CĂ©saire, the loi dâassimilation, as it was titled by the French Communists, was a misnomer. âWhat the people really wanted,â he argued, âwas equality with the French. So to speak of assimilation was to deploy an inappropriate terminology.â CĂ©saire, a renowned poet and wordsmith oft lauded for his ability to reshape and transform the French language, decided to tackle this terminological problem by coining a new term.19 âI told myself, âOK, then, I will ask for what you call assimilation but what I call departmentalization.â The word did not exist in French,â he asserts. âIt was I who imposed it.â20
CĂ©saireâs rĂ©forme vocabulaire carried the promise of potentially refashioning the nature of the French departmental system itself. This promise, however, quickly faded. Soon after the departmentalization law was passed in 1946, the left-dominated government was replaced by a succession of mainly centrist coalitions, and the efforts to build the French Union lost impetus. At the same time, throughout the world decolonization became narrowly construed as the search for political and economic independenceârather than the project of âequalizationâ that CĂ©saire had championed.
The 1946 law officially transformed the former colonies of Guadeloupe, Martinique, Guiana, and RĂ©union into full departments of France, and decreed that their political systems would be equal to those of the metropolitan departmentsâbut for exceptions specified by law. This final clause opened the door to precisely the kind of âcolonialâ or âtropicalâ exceptionalism that CĂ©saire had sought to prevent. For example, unlike mainland prefects, the overseas prefects that replaced the colonial governors were responsible for defense against possible foreign invasion; they could thus declare a state of siege, deploy military forces, and expel foreigners. They could also modify tariffs and taxes and fix certain prices, and they had âimplicit diplomatic attributionsâ that gave them authority over relations with neighboring states.21 These exceptional powers gave rise to enduring conflicts between the prefects and the general councils, with local elected members continually demanding greater administrative authority and autonomy.22
In the end, what resulted was a form of assimilation assouplie (flexible, relaxed integration), wherein most French laws were adapted, or simply deferred, for the DOMs. As a result, social security benefits, pensions, family assistance, and even the minimum wage remained lower in the DOMs than in the mainland late into the twentieth century.23 This legislative ârelaxationâ was strategically leveraged by local employers who to this day often refuse to abide by national labor standards, claiming that these must be âadaptedâ to the special circumstances of the DOMs. The French labor protections and economic guarantees that had been sought through departmentalization thus arrived only partially, and what were once described as âdisparitiesâ became increasingly justified as âadaptations.â24 Meanwhile, the cost of living in the DOMs soared as the price of food, clothing, and other imports steadily climbed, due to high taxes and the monopolies of local merchants.25
By 1956, just ten years after departmentalization, CĂ©saire conceded that the project of departmentalization had perhaps been naive in attempting to abolish inequality without eradicating the colonial regime itself.26 One could, he argued, read departmentalization as a âruseâ on the part of the colonizer: an offer of abstract and ultimately unattainable equality meant to quell separatist sentiment. But, CĂ©saire speculated, perhaps in the end âle ruse de lâhistoireâ would reveal the naivetĂ© of the colonized as ruse, and the ruse of the colonizer as naivetĂ©.27 Indeed, it was only after the DOMs achieved full juridical inclusion that a new nationalist sentiment was stirred in the French Antillesâfueled in part by massive disappointment in the failed promises of departmentalization.