Showing posts with label Dominican Republic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dominican Republic. Show all posts

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Arbor Day(s) or Combite 2013

2013-04-20 09.12.34


Today (April 20-2013) we began with 2013 Arbor Day activities. The first group of students from this year’s class (Issues in World History: African Diaspora) planted the first trees along Willard Dr. SE– about 40 of them. We ended our planting with a celebratory trip to Carole Lee Donuts!  The Blacksburg Town‘s office of recreation makes this possible.


This link for last year’s Arbor Day activities.


As with other years, I offered students a rationale for their involvement.


The objective is to give back to the community at large as an enjoyable and practical way of learning about World History and the African Diaspora.


This hands-on instruction intends to engage students’ learning with some of the industrialization’s unintended effects: its impact on the forests (why most trees around are young?), and the spark of the (romantic) movement for reforestation on industrializing nations (i.e., National Parks).


Yet, the most important goal is to get students involved in local communities as a historical lesson that highlights the ethos of many Black communities across the diaspora, and help them appreciate the differences and similarities between our present experience and the way people thought and lived in the past.


The assumption is that our present-day attitudes toward community differ substantially from that of many people in the past (and from people living in other parts of the contemporary world).  Western World’s main cultural currents emphasize individual needs rather than community cooperation. But the historical record seems to show that most people in the past view their existences in more fragile terms, and thus relied on a more collective ethos for survival (networks are more powerful than individuals). Several scholars, including Patrick Manning, have suggested that the African Diaspora have broadly shared a spirit of cooperation, collectivity, and equality. These traits are evident in the performance of Afro-Diasporans cultural events, early political organizations, and even on its commonly simple (if any) social hierarchy.


A good example of this collective ethos is the combite (convite in Spanish), dokpwe or fagina. These terms refer to communal and reciprocal forms of labor. The first term is still common in Haiti (in the D.R. It has taken a more festive meaning); the second in West Africa; and the third among Central American Mayans. These traditions have often brought all able-persons to work on a job that would eventually benefit the entire community. Workers would often perform their work, not in isolation but in groups or gangs. The Haitian combite has a reputation for its feast-like nature marked by upbeat singing as men would work the land for cultivation and women would prepare food for many. At the conclusion of a day’s work in a combite people would join in a party of celebration. As with the dokpwe and fagina, Haitians in these communities would derive a powerful sense of belonging through this type of collaboration.


Maureen Warner Lewis tells us about the combite:


conbite


Maureen Warner-Lewis, Central Africa in the Caribbean: Transcending Time, Transforming Cultures (Kingston: Univ. of the West Indies Press, 2003), 65.


Walter Goldschmidt provides this explanation about the Dahomey society and the dokpwe:


Dahomean Dokpwe


Walter Goldschmidt, Exploring the Ways of Mankind (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 197), 313.


So, by planting trees for the Blacksburg community without expecting a direct compensation, I aim for students to appreciate these traditional practices in the African Diaspora. Understanding the ethos of cooperation underlying these practices also helps to perceive the historically persistent call for Pan-Africanism, or cooperation among Afro-Diasporans across national boundaries (i.e., W.E.B Du Bois, Marcus Garvey).


This concept of society is perhaps similar to the way we understand the ecosystem in the natural world–of a society built on broad dynamic cooperation and reciprocity rather than on defining limits of freedom. Our Arbor Day activity, then, endeavors to bring students closer to appreciating the historical and cultural gap that separates us from the people we are studying, and perhaps, fit them with the necessary critical-thinking tools to become independent thinkers in the society in which they now lives.


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Arbor Day(s) or Combite 2013

Today (April 20-2013) we began with 2013 Arbor Day activities. The first group of students from this year’s class (Issues in World History: African Diaspora) planted the first trees– about 40 of them. We ended our planting with a trip to Carole Lee Donuts! This link for last year’s Arbor Day activities. As with other years, … Continue reading

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Using tragedy to promote dependency

I wrote the post below in response to an attempt to use Camacho’s death for partisan purposes. The original post I read appeared in the otherwise admirable blog “Repeating Islands.” But it had first come from Time.com, written by Tim Padgett


“I am surprised to see such a partisan and pro-colonial (and ahistorical) post in this blog. The pro-statehood movement on the island has been on an evangelical-like impetus that ignores the facts for the “positive” vision.


The main reason Puerto Rico, as well as much of Latin America, has sunk into what it seems as social disarray (as seen in the surge of violence) is in fact because of its colonial status and the neo-liberal policies affecting the entire region. Adding Puerto Rico to the integral political structure of the colonial master (statehood) would not only miss the goal of producing a solution to the problems affecting the region, but it would simply be impossible.


Understanding the nature of nation-building and nationalism would help explain why the U.S. would find it impossible to assimilate the island as an equal. There are plenty of historical examples that would also highlight the foolishness of this idea. France in the Caribbean is perhaps the most salient one, where the colonial territories have been integral and full members of the French political apparatus (unlike Puerto Rico’s “commonwealth” status, which by the way, it reads radically different in the Spanish version).


And yet, the French “Overseas Departments” have not been nor will be in the same social or political level as the rest of France. They are rather dependencies “well treated,” or better yet, “people hanging from the borders of the more progressive nation that is France” (which happens to thrive at the historical expenses of their colonial possessions). No wonder the French have not accepted them as real social equals.


The U.S. seems farther behind the French in admitting this possibility with Puerto Rico–even less of accepting Puerto Ricans as full members of their society (in the continental U.S., they are considered “immigrants” in the process of becoming “Whites” as the Irish and Italians once were, if they are willing to shed away most of their cultural traits and join the “melting-pot”). So, there are enough evidences showing the final destination of the “statehood” pipe-dream.


Puerto Rico has a long history of reactionary and pro-colonial support, and this post seems to follow in such a tradition (this thought also relates to plantation owners in Cuba who sought union with the U.S., and discredited Dominican caudillos who wanted the U.S. to re-colonize their country in the 19th Century).


Yet, there are also traditions of more genuinely native and more creative lines of thinking that put a premium on emancipation, collaboration and fair equality rather than on pernicious social hierarchies. I suggest that we tap on these latter traditions, improve on them and rethink our future more brightly than joining a cause of futile begging for acceptance.”



Filed under: Caribbean, Colonialism, Dominican Republic, Imperialism, Puerto Rico, Unites States Tagged: Caribbean, Colonial Gaze, Colonialism, Imperialism, Independence, Post-Colonial, Puerto Rico, Statehood

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Jean Pierre Boyer


This is the first draft of a piece on the Haitian President Jean Pierre Boyer. As such, it is still in pre-publication state, and should not be cited. I welcome, however, feedback and constructive cricicism in order to improve it. Dennis R. Hidalgo

Jean-Pierre Boyer (February 28, 1776- July 9, 1850), the longest serving head of state in Haiti, was President from 1818 to 1843.  Boyer personified the Creole liberal politics of the affranchis, better known as free persons of color or mulattoes, whose republican rhetoric concealed a wariness of the masses.  His ascension to the presidency stands out as one of those rare moments on the island’s history when transition to power did not result from bloody insurrection.  The international community admired Boyer for his diplomacy while the majority of Haitians endured his imposing, but erratic grip.  He exerted influence beyond Haiti by attempting to secure the ambiguous legacy of the Revolution.  This was a hostile time for the first independent black nation, a time when every single Caribbean colony, particularly the neighboring Puerto Rico, Cuba, and even the southern United States were still thriving enslaving societies.  Initially, Boyer appeared to preside over a politically stable country.  He averted impending foreign intervention, attracted a measure of international recognition, and experimented with modernizing social programs.  However, his career deteriorated as his regime sustained a number of natural disasters, political setbacks, and economic downturns.  As a result he grew insular and authoritarian.  Ultimately, Boyer’s most notable accomplishments, the French recognition and the integration of the Spanish side, helped drive his administration to the ground.  His own political class later found him insufferable, and through Charles Rivière-Hérard, deposed him on March 13, 1843.  Disempowered, Boyer escaped to Jamaica and from there into exile in France where he remained until his death in 1850.  He left a country in debt and with the promise of the Revolution unfulfilled.

Born in Port-au-Prince, Boyer was the son of a Congolese woman and a mulatto tradesman.  Like with many young mulattoes, his parents sent him to military school in France, and at sixteen, enticed by the Revolution, he enlisted in the Republican Army.  Two years later he joined Jacobin Léger-Félicité Sonthonax and Saint-Dominguan mulatto André Rigaud in their efforts to export radicalism to Saint-Domingue.  Across the ocean they met with a colony transformed by the Revolution in a conflict where blacks struggled to preserve their independence from mulattoes, royalists and foreign empires alike.  After defeat in the 1799 War of the Knives, when the mulatto army lost decisively to Toussaint Louverture in Jacmel, Boyer left for France.  His ship, however, arrived in the United States instead, seized because of a brief French-American diplomatic dispute.  During his short stay in the U.S., Quakers and Masons offered him hospitality after learning about the Masonic regalia he carried.  But, although he gave his Americans counterparts a favorable impression, U.S. racism left Boyer humiliated. He will later remember this sojourn somehow bitterly.

From Paris, Boyer enlisted in yet another Saint-Dominguean military venture. It was 1801, and Napoleon Bonaparte’s brother-in-law, Charles Victor Emmanuel Leclerc led it. Bonaparte had turned his attention to Louverture’s virtual independence, and Boyer embarked hoping that this time the French would recognize mulatto privileges.  A year later, with Louverture captured, but with Bonaparte’s anti-revolutionary plans exposed, Boyer did the unthinkable.  Together with other mulatto officers who had learned of the French duplicity, he joined the black resistance now led by Jean Jacques Dessalines.  In 1804, Boyer partook of the abolition of both slavery and colonial rule, even though his most pressing aspirations had been mulatto interests.  Dessalines’ 1806 assassination split the country alongside the color line.  The black general Henri Christophe now ruled the north while in the south the mulatto Alexandre Sabès Pétion led a rival state. Christophe evolved into King Henri I, and Pétion into the President of the impoverished Haitian Republic.  With little control over these events Boyer stayed at his friend Pétión’s side.

In 1818, hot in the heels of Pétion’s heartrending funeral, senators duly certified Boyer as the succeeding president. Boyer was genuinely concerned with the specter of a French invasion, and accurately recognized the Spanish side as the island most vulnerable part. He quickly began forging secret alliances with generals in the northern kingdom, and businesses in the eastern Spanish colony. His first opportunity for expansion came in 1820, after Christophe’s death.  Boyer’s supporters inside the crumbling kingdom summoned him and he easily filled the political vacuum that Christophe had left in the northern capital of Cap-Haïtien.

Not two years had passed when Boyer again expanded.  In November 1821, José Núñez de Cáceres had led the Spanish Creole elite to independence from Spain. They called their new nation “Independent State of Spanish Haiti.” The elite, however, had little influence beyond Santo Domingo.  The “Haitian Party,” which were Dominicans who had been in contact with Boyer, requested annexation to Haiti, and ultimately carried the day.  Boyer preempted his entry into Dominican territory with a deliberately tactful letter and arrived in Santo Domingo with a powerful show of force.  In February 1822, city officials not only opened the doors to Boyer, but led in the transferring of power ceremony.  Days after taking control, Boyer thwarted French filibusters off the coast of the northeastern peninsula of Samaná, justifying in this way the obligation of his occupation. It did not take long for the insecure Spanish and French elites to emigrate and leave its land behind. In just a few years Boyer had reached the apex of his political life. In both expansions he had managed to cross his army through otherwise unfriendly borders without military conflicts and conspicuous looting. This marked a contrast to previous raucous Haitian expansions.

Legend affirms that in 1818 while in deathbed, Pétion had warned General Joseph Inginac of Boyer’s latent ambitions. After Pétion’s death, however, the equable general still sided with the new president.  In fact, Inginac proved as faithful to Boyer, as Boyer had been to Pétion— but longer.  Whereas Boyer served Pétion from 1806 to 1818, Inginac was inseparable from Boyer from the start until his overthrown in 1843. Inginac left his marks of erudition in most, if not in all of the new president’s correspondence and writing. After years of debilitating civil war, Boyer had come to embody Haitians hopes of harmony and prosperity. This shows how much Boyer had inherited and learned from Pétion. He watched while in 1816 Pétión assisted Simón Bolivar and prodded him against slavery.  Like his tutor, Boyer quickly discovered the convenience of being a President-for-Life rather than a King, as oppose to Christophe, his rival to the north. Like Pétion, Boyer quickly snubbed the idea of a truly but weak democratic president. Instead, like Pétion, Boyer distributed land to win the hearts of the people.

In 1822, shortly after becoming the master of the entire island of Hispaniola Boyer launched his modernization project. He aimed to consolidate the gains of the revolution and to cast Haiti to the world as a genuine modern nation. He performed surgical land distributions designed to increase both political approval and agricultural production.  He tried to navigate an imaginary middle between allotting land for commercial cultivation and subsistence agriculture. He eliminated slavery on the east and faced off against the Church. The number of Spanish slaves had never been as high as those of the French in Saint-Domingue, but the mere existence of slavery on the island threatened Haiti’s existence.  Boyer was not alone on his stand against the Church.  Liberals throughout the hemisphere also viewed its extensive holdings, hefty salaries and cultural monopoly, as the main obstacles toward reengineering modern society.  With an unprecedented amount of land and political capital Boyer then consolidated power and redistributed land among his soldiers and peasants.  In 1824 he even sent Jonathas Granville to the U.S. to negotiate the immigration of thousands of free blacks whom he then resettled throughout the island.

The last yet most important French offensive came in 1825.  Former masters arrived exacting profits lost to the revolution. With warships bullying Haitian ports, Boyer bowed down, and accepted the colossal indemnity of 150 million francs for trading rights and official recognition. The deal opened the doors to Haitian products in France, which had yet to find eager legal buyers on the international market. Boyer’s hope was that with a loyal, happier, and more productive population at home, Haiti would finally spring out of poverty and oblivion.  And in fact, with the treaty Boyer lifted forever the French menace, but left the nation scrambling for money to pay the debt.  Boyer’s plan for revenue was also his most important legal contribution. In 1826 the Senate approved Boyer’s Rural Code, which was to transform the Haitian economy into a modern industrial agricultural society. Though abolitionists abroad hailed it as an example of Haitian ingenuity, in reality the code was a sort of liberal serfdom.  It outlawed vagrancy and allowed certain level of subsistence agriculture, but the emphasis was on keeping peasants tied to the land. The objective was to produce great quantities of cash crop for exportation.

Unforeseen circumstances took Boyer’s plans in the opposite direction when Haitian and Dominican peasants appreciated the redistribution of land, but rejected his enthusiasm for commercial agriculture. The army, which was supposed to police peasants, readily admitted failure, and retired, like the rest, to tend their plot of land instead. Production of coffee, cacao, sugar and tobacco for export plunged severely hurting the government’s coffers. Only lumber continued its exporting frenzy curtailing dramatically the number of forests even while Boyer’s government decried it. While the peasantry became the vast anti-modern sector, the commercial urban class prospered with its new trade freedom, and through a money-less economy. Tax policies meant to exploit a large agricultural production that never happened, quickly trickled down to the peasantry, which sought in turn increasing isolation from government as well as from the middling groups. The commercial class, particularly the Dominicans, presented Boyer with its most difficult opposition.  They opposed sharing the French debt and his increasing authoritarian measures. Additionally, Boyer’s diplomatic efforts yielded only minor achievements, leaving him without the international validation and trade contracts he desperately needed to stabilize his government.  Under these circumstances the French debt became such an unsettling burden that Boyer and many of his successors spent their tenures trying unsuccessfully to tackle it.

Political upheaval followed discontent toward the French debt and Rural Code.  The mood was such that in 1830 Boyer prohibited political meetings to safeguard his damaged authority. That same year a drought curtailed the nation’s agricultural production limiting even further the government’s ability to manage public works. Mounting disappointment with Boyer’s regime brewed, but without public venues the opposition submerged and fragmented. It was not until 1838 when the first significant conspiracies developed. Juan Pablo Duarte led the Dominican bourgeois opposition and helped create the secret society La Trinitaria. Haitian liberals formed The Society for the Rights of Man and Citizen. The insurgents organized, educated and waited for the most opportune moment to strike. The opening came in 1842 when a devastating earthquake shocked the entire island and revealed the extent of Boyer’s crippled and unresponsive government.  Because of isolation and the government’s inability to assist those that the earthquake have dislodged, common people perceived Boyer as cruel. In January 1843 the conspirators declared against the regime, and southern peasants supported the coup by denying food to soldiers. Without a functional army, Boyer fled the country on March 13 aboard a British schooner. A year later Dominicans declared independence and create the Dominican Republic. After 25 years of leading Haiti through most of its post-revolutionary period, Boyer spent his last days in France, the same country that facilitated his political demise.

Select Bibliography

Coupeau, Steeve. The history of Haiti. Greenwood Publishing Group, 2008.

Dubois, Laurent. Avengers of the New World: The Story of the Haitian Revolution. Harvard University Press, 2005.

Nicholls, David. From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race Colour, and National Independence in Haiti. Rutgers University Press; Revised edition, 1995)

Pons, Frank M. History of the Caribbean: Plantations, Trade, and War in the Atlantic World. Markus Wiener Publishers, 2007.