Bête Noire - An Essay
A Perspective on Race and Language in Martinique
By Aulelia Kashoro
Language is the uniform we wear when we communicate. The French West Indian island of Martinique portrays the multiple layers of complexity of race and language. This island appears to be a picture perfect postcard: an island passionate about zouk music that has been the breeding ground for intellectual explosions. Important socio-cultural movements such as négritude and créolité were nurtured there. These ideological movements lie at the core of black philosophical discussion. Négritude was championed by visionaries such as Aimé Césaire and first president of Senegal, Léopold Sédar Senghor. It argued that black identity lay in its’ historical link with Africa and current links with the African diaspora. However, Créolité supports the premise that black people in the Caribbean should embrace their identity as Caribbeans, not Africans since a blend of ethnicities have constituted the mixed societies of many Caribbean nations.
The idea of négritude promotes Black diasporic unity, a component that is lacking greatly from certain inter-black relations. Have revolutionary movements such as this been dumped in the name of integration? The word “négritude” is a brilliant play-on words because it appears to be reclaiming the pejorative aura that the word “nègre” represents and making it into something positive as the movement celebrates blackness. Many people believe that race is a social construct and thus négritude is no longer relevant. However, this approach to the philosophy is tantamount to being oblivious to the seminal work of Malcolm X. Race is a reality that was created out of prejudice. The fact that many people are mobilising to crush prejudice does not mean its’ existence today should be swept under the carpet. This is why négritude is a viable option as it promotes a safety in numbers ethic and creates an environment for enriching black cultural identity. However, we must have a realistic outlook: slavery and colonialism ripped a group of people from their original homeland. Is it even surprising that there is a feeling of disenfranchisement?
Fanon notes that at school authority figures made sure that creole was not used . Cultural identity is spawned due to necessity and will thus créolité can be seen as a creation of both ingredients. One key factor of créolité is the belief of the overall importance of the Créole language as a symbol of francophone West Indian identity. The word “creole” in English has multiple meanings yet within French and English from a linguistic viewpoint, there is a shared understanding that it describes “a pidgin that has become the native language of a speech community” . A volte-face has occurred symbolising how the creole language has taken centre stage with prominent Martinican authors such as Raphaël Confiant who wrote his 1979 book “Jik dèyè do Bondyé” in Creole. Through dissecting the ideologies of négritude and créolité, we are able to see that language is the key to understanding how cultural identity is formed.
With 22.1% of the Martinique population being under the age of 15, children form an important part in the society. It is said that if a child is born with a lighter complexion than its mother, the child is bien né (well born). This belief highlights how central race is in the Martinique society as its impact is even portrayed onto traditionally innocent figures: children. From this example, it is clear that colourism is not only smeared on Martinique’s glassy veneer but tangled with the island’s roots. France’s colonial aura has made her presence felt with more than a bonjour: race proves this more than any pâtisserie present on the island.
Should it be offensive to describe a black person by the hue of their skin? Words such as chabin (a light-skinned black person) and mulâtresse (a mixed-race woman) are puzzling remnants of the island’s colonial past as they denote different modes of racial classification for black Martinicans. Fanon states of the negress and female mulatto that “the former has one possibility and one worry: to become white. The latter not only wants to be white, but to avoid regression.” The keywords from this quotation from a feminist standpoint are négresse and mulâtresse. These labels are central to cutting open the corpse of colourism. These terms subject her to racial fetishisation: the black woman becomes an exhibit as opposed to being analysed for her mind. From Fanon’s observation, the darker-skinned black woman is chasing what she sees as a prize whereas the light-skinned woman does not want to lose the “prize”. From this quotation, the colour “white” is a badge of success for these women, the key to avoid regression and thus crystallises why self-hatred thrives in the mind of some black people.
Another Frantz Fanon quotation from a mulâtresse states “I don’t like the black man because he is savage; not in the cannibal sense, but because he lacks finesse” . The language appears formal yet it is fatal to the psyche of the black man. By labelling the black man as “le nègre” in this context, it evokes a derogatory image of the black man due to its similarity to the word nigger. Fanon’s examples have shown that both black men and women have become involuntary competitors in the race to win the “prize” of acceptance from Eurocentrics- the saddening reality is that some black people today refuse the chance to be ineligible for that trophy.
However, has Fanon’s 1952 discourse been outdated in how it perceived colourism? Unfortunately not. People were routinely described by how light or dark they were; hearing le chabin was not uncommon if one asked what a man looked like. The complaint that girls only liked chabins was as common as the popularity of Chamillionaire’s ‘Rollin’ blaring out from a car stereo. These words perpetuate the continuing existence of the “planterocracy’s” racial hierarchy: on the surface, black people in the Occident may be free from slavery today yet language is invariably the invisible handcuff of which we are bound to.
The nation of Trinidad & Tobago has two main ethnic groups: Indian of South Asian descent (40%) and African (37.5%) . Indo-Trinidadian and Afro-Trinidadian are two terms used to describe the dual origins that the citizens possess. Can dualism such as this be related to Martinique? In Martinique, people of Indian descent were known as “coolies”, a pejorative term also used in English. Terms such “chapé-coolie” were used frequently to show people of Indian descent who were no longer “Indian” in identity due to integrating with island society. Are words such as “afro-antillais” used more than “martiniquais” or “francais”? This is a moot question because unlike Trinidad and Tobago, Martinique has not won independence thus meaning that national identity is affected in a different way. Are Martinicans French because of their EU passports? This question highlights why terms of identity such as “martiniquais” are more likely attempts to distance themselves from France as opposed to running away from Africa. However, the problem with black Martinicans distancing themselves from Africa is their roots become dug up - how will they get the water they need to survive? Many answers can close the discussion to this question. What is certain is that the foundation of black identity relies on the link with the African continent.
White people in Martinique do not escape the hot poker of branding: ‘békés’, an amalgamation of blanc créoles (‘white creoles’) which is the description of white Martinicans descended from the French colonists and métropoles, the latter being freshly arrived French people from Charles-de-Gaulle airport. Their relationship is complicated by the fact that many békés tend to intermarry to preserve their family bloodlines, refusing to marry métropoles too. From this perspective, race in Martinique is not solely a black and white issue. It is one that has been manipulated to be one of class and politics, as the decapitated statue of former Empress Joséphine stands in La Savane park in Fort-de-France proves after her head was sliced off allegedly by locals who believe she was a reason for prolonged slavery in Martinique.
Whilst Martinican anchorman Harry Roselmack broke barriers in becoming the first black male anchorman on evening television in France, ironically his appointment could be perceived as a success and a bête noire (”black beast” - a pet peeve) due to the ironic love/hate relationship that France and her last bastions of influence are in. The former has the words that have had a socially torturous effect on the latter. Despite the fact Martinique has carved out its’ own identity with its’ language, Créole, its’ status as a Départment d’Outre Mer highlight that it ultimately cannot swim away from Paris.
1 Peau Noire, Masques Blancs – Frantz Fanon – 1952 – p.22
2 http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/creole
3 http://www.indexmundi.com/martinique/age_structure.html
4 My translation – « La première n’a qu’une possibilité et un souci : blanchir. La deuxième non seulement veut blanchir, mais éviter de régresser. » (Fanon, p.44)
5 My translation – “Je n’aime pas le Nègre, parce qu’il est sauvage. Pas sauvage au sens cannibale, mais parce qu’il manque de finesse » (Fanon, p.47).Aulelia Kashoro is a Tanzanian writer. This piece was inspired by her recent visit to Martinique.