Scholar attempts to parse ‘Frenchness’ of Martinique and Guadeloupe

By Emily T. Simon

FAS Communications

The West Indian islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe lie more than 4,000 miles from Paris on the eastern edge of the Caribbean Sea. With lush forests, sugar-sand beaches, and riotous flora, the tiny islands bear little resemblance to France’s ordered, urban capital. Yet technically the islands are just as “French” as anything Parisian. Guadeloupe and Martinique are “départements d’outre mer,” or overseas states, and island inhabitants are considered full citizens of the French nation.

Mylène Priam, assistant professor of Romance languages and literatures, has found that in Guadeloupe and Martinique, French citizenship doesn’t necessarily assure French national identity. Defining nationality in the islands can be a complicated task, particularly given that both départements were colonies until 1946.

“What community do nationals belong to when they are situated — not politically or administratively, but physically — outside the national space?” Priam asked. “The relationship that West Indians have with the French Republic is very complex and always ambivalent. Yet, this ambivalence can be explained historically, socially, and culturally.”

For Priam, literature is an intriguing field from which to approach that complex relationship. She studies “Créolité,” or “Creoleness,” a literary movement that developed at the end of the 1980s. Leading writers Jean Bernabé, Patrick Chamoiseau, and Raphaël Confiant published “Eloge de la Créolité” (“In Praise of Creoleness”) in 1989 to argue that Creole identity and not French continental identity should take precedence in defining the islands’ cultures and literatures.

According to the authors, Créolité could provide a way for West Indians to have a say in their destiny. Furthermore, they argued, Caribbean identity could be defined not only by the legacy of French Colonialism and slavery, but rather by a flexible and unlimited combination of influences that might include indigenous Caribbean, European, and even Asian culture (among others).

“Créolité is an ideological theory,” said Priam, “but its purpose is highly political and rooted in reality. These writers were strongly for the independence of Martinique and Guadeloupe, and they believed that theory would bring change through artistic practice.” Priam analyzes that practice in a forthcoming book, tentatively titled “Creole Soup for the Caribbean Soul: The Créolité Manifesto.”

Martinique and Guadeloupe first became states in 1946, when the French government asked West Indians to vote for either independence or citizenship. They chose citizenship. On March 19, 1946, the “Loi de départementalisation” (Law of Departmentalisation) was passed, and 1.5 million people were added to the French population.

“After four centuries of slavery and trade, Martinicans and Guadeloupeans thought new citizenship would give them what had been long due — their dignity,” Priam said. Unfortunately the vote did not provide the anticipated outcome. According to Priam, longstanding colonial tensions and racism still weave their way through French-West Indian relationships today.

“France has done everything to make it seem that there is no distance between the islands and the mainland, popularly called l’hexagone,” she explained. “Citizens in Martinique and Guadeloupe are considered French and they are part of the European Union. But on so many levels they are treated differently because they are citizens with a Colonial past.”

For example, Priam said, many islanders who come to mainland France to look for work experience severe discrimination and racism. Furthermore, the government has maintained the position of “Minister of Overseas France,” a Colonial-era legacy. The position falls under the responsibility of the Ministry of the Interior, which to Priam symbolizes an inherent contradiction in the government’s approach to département rule.

“Why do you need an overseas minister,” she asked, “if the islands are considered French states bearing the same rights as those within l’hexagone? Why, then, is there no minister of Lorraine?”

Most frustratingly, she said, mainland French citizens do not know enough about the islands.

“There is a superficial multiculturalism in l’hexagone,” said Priam. “People know a little about the music, the food, the personality stereotypes. But there is so little focus on the social, artistic, and political presence of the West Indies.”

Much of the ignorance, said Priam, stems from gaps in the French educational system. Students — including those who reside on the islands — are taught the history and geography of l’hexagone and the legacy of French authors such as Balzac, with little to no mention of département culture or Creole literature.

“It’s the typical Republican system,” said Priam. “You are not exactly encouraged to question; you don’t stop to wonder where you come from.”

Priam, whose mother is Martinican, experienced such frustrations as a child growing up in Paris.

“Not until age 19 did I wonder, ‘Do we have authors or poets?’ Age 19! It’s not even like my memory was erased — it’s like it was never there,” she said. “Maddening! That’s how it was growing up, with the knowledge of something that was not there.”

Much of Priam’s scholarship is completed in the hope that eventually France will devote more attention to Creole language and culture.

“I am eager to put the focus outside of France, to make the differences a strength, not a weakness,” she said. “I don’t want this literature to continue to be seen as minor, or ‘outside the canon’.”

According to Priam, attitudes are changing, albeit slowly. Channel 3, a popular national TV station, now devotes 10 minutes a day to département coverage. Five years ago, it was limited to 10 minutes a week.

Since 2005 the French government has also acknowledged a need to revise how the history of colonization is taught to schoolchildren. Though national programs have been changed to include the slave trade, Priam said that “teaching of this history is more or less left to the discretion of individual teachers, who might not have the proper training to do so.”

In general, the West Indies remain a culture “apart,” Priam said.

“That’s fine,” she added. “Nevertheless, this ‘apart’ needs to be analyzed properly. The culture is ‘apart,’ yet not incompatible. Different, yet free to make connections or remain independent.”

Priam said that Martinique and Guadeloupe expose both the logical and paradoxical nature of the French Republic, which “makes studying their culture so interesting.”

Someday, Priam would also like to see Martinique and Guadeloupe achieve full independence from France — but she recognizes that the process would be challenging.

“There has always been some kind of dependence on France,” Priam said, “so sovereignty cannot be brutal or abrupt. It must be a careful process.”