Otto Dettmer
Copyright 2013 The New York Times Company
DURHAM, North Carolina — Late one afternoon
in March, officials unveiled a new monument at the University of the West
Indies, in Cave Hill, Barbados. The ceremony featured
African drumming, a historian’s lecture, a bishop’s prayer and a song performed
by a school choir with the chorus, “We cry for the ancestors!”
Those ancestors, 295 of whom have their names
on the monument, were slaves who once lived where the campus now stands.
What today is a university was once a plantation. What is now a nation was once a colony. In
Barbados and throughout the Caribbean, slavery remains a vivid and potent
metaphor, and a cultivated memory.
Presiding over the event was Sir Hilary
Beckles, the head of the university and a prolific historian. He and his
Jamaican colleague Verene Shepherd have spurred on the recent call by the
15-member Caribbean Community for Britain, France and the Netherlands to pay an
undefined amount of reparations for slavery and the slave trade. The group
plans to file suit in national courts; if that fails, it will go to the
International Court of Justice.
Uniting the Caribbean around any kind of
policy is not easy. The region is linguistically and
politically fragmented, with links to former colonial powers or the United
States often trumping cooperation. But with this new
call, the community, known as Caricom, is tapping into one thing that all its
member states have in common: the lingering effects of slavery.
Calls for reparations have a long history. As
early as the 1790s, one French anti-slavery activist argued that the enslaved
could easily ask not just for freedom but for repayment for generations of
unpaid labor. But at the time of emancipation, the British granted not the
ex-slaves but their former owners “reparation” in the form of a large financial
indemnity.
Haiti won its freedom 1804, but in 1825 it
agreed to pay an indemnity to France in return for diplomatic recognition. The
money was used to compensate French plantation owners.
Today this all seems shocking. In 2001 France decreed slavery a “crime against humanity,” and the
U.S. Congress formally apologized in 2008 for the
“enslavement and racial segregation of African Americans.” American
universities have begun to apologize for their historical links to slavery.
And thanks to films like “Twelve Years a Slave,” Europe and
America are being forced to confront the realities of slavery on-screen.
But only reparations can reverse the
long-term harm. As Ralph Gonsalves, the prime minister of St. Vincent and the
Grenadines, said, “We have to have appropriate recompense.”
The claim is not, however, about compensating
individuals, but their communities. And in this way,
since most countries in the Caribbean are financially in debt to international
banks, Caricom is making a provocative argument: It is actually Europe that
owes the Caribbean.
This is more than just creative accounting.
When economists debate why some countries are poor and others
are rich, they often focus on the cultural, political or economic structures of
poor countries. But historians of the Caribbean have
long argued that national inequality is a direct result of centuries of
economic exploitation.
The foundations for this argument go back to
a 1944 book by the Trinidadian historian Eric Williams, “Capitalism and
Slavery.” Mr. Williams had to pay $500 to help subsidize its publication by the
University of North Carolina Press, but the book became a classic, and he later
became his country’s prime minister.
His argument, that the profits from the slave
trade and slavery were the foundation for Britain’s Industrial Revolution,
spurred decades of debate and research, and today there are hundreds of books
documenting slavery’s profound impact on the modern world.
But knowing is one thing; figuring out what
to do is another.
Consider this: In 2003, Haiti’s president,
Jean-Bertrand Aristide, called on France to repay the 1825 indemnity, which he
blamed for his country’s poverty. The argument was
historically sound: to pay France, Haiti had had to borrow money from French
banks, entering a century-long cycle of debt.
But a French commission concluded that, while
there was a responsibility on France’s part, financial reparation was not the
solution. Its report suggested that French aid to Haiti
was a kind of “reparation” and urged more of it.
After the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, President
Nicolas Sarkozy offered an aid and debt-forgiveness package to the country.
But the French government never officially apologized, let
alone offered compensation.
Despite the rightness of the Caribbean
nations’ claim, European governments are likely to respond similarly this time.
If Caricom accepts this approach, the call for reparations may
ultimately just come to play a strategic role within international negotiations
over aid and trade.
Perhaps, though, something more will come of
this. In the United States, calls for reparation have
long served mostly as a catalyst for debate. One good
way to make the point that something is important, after all, is to attach a
monetary value to it.
That goes for history, too. Scholars have
worked for decades to educate people through their writing and teaching. Now
their arguments will be heard in court, and perhaps find their way into
headlines.
Just as important, the discussions around
reparations — in the Caribbean as in Europe — might become an occasion to delve
into history, to mourn but also confront the many ways in which the past
continues to shape the present.
What would it mean to truly rid our world of
the legacies of slavery? In the Caribbean, it would mean undoing the divisions
created by colonialism, through regional economic cooperation and reduced
dependence on foreign aid and foreign banks.
It would mean, above all, ending the
continuing mistreatment and stereotyping of Haitians, who were the pioneers in
the overthrow of slavery and have been paying for it ever since.
In Europe and the United States, it would
mean abandoning condescending visions of the Caribbean and building policies on
aid, trade and immigration based on an acceptance of common and connected
histories.
It would mean, above all, consigning racial
discrimination, exploitation and political exclusion to the past. That would be the truest form of reparation.
Laurent Dubois
INTERNATIONAL NEW YORK TIMES. October 28, 2013
Laurent Dubois, a professor of romance studies and history
at Duke, is the author of “Haiti: The Aftershocks of History.”

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