On June 28

On this day in ...
... 1635 (375 years ago today), the Compagnie des Îles de l'Amérique established a French colony at Guadeloupe (right), a Caribbean archipelago about 10 times the size of Washington, D.C., where the explorer Christopher Columbus had landed in 1493. "By 1674, Guadeloupe was annexed to the Kingdom of France and a slave-based plantation was established." Britain and other countries wrestled for control of the territory, but French colonization was confirmed in the 1815 Treaty of Vienna, and slavery was abolished in 1848. Guadeloupe remains a French colony and so is a member of the European Union.

(Prior June 28 posts are here, here, and here.)

The Story of Rum

(Part 2 of a series; here's Part 1 and Part 3)

Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
The mate was fixed by the bosun's pike
The bosun brained with a marlinspike . . .
And there they lay, all good dead men
Like break o'day in a boozing ken.
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

Rum and pirates. The image of the two is indelibly linked in our minds, and with good reason. Rum — or Kill Devil, as some not-so-fondly called it — was the drink of choice for pirates, sailors, and other “vagabonds” of the New World. It had the good fortune of being plentiful, cheap, and highly intoxicating. Indeed, the British Navy kept their sailors just this side of blindingly drunk by providing each man with a daily ration of “grog,” which consisted of a quart of water mixed with half a pint of rum, sugar and lime.
Life was difficult in the New World. Rum was a necessary ingredient for making the unpalatable more sweet. For the pirates, sailors and others who scoured the New World, Rum was even sweeter than money. Why take money when you could down a pint of Rum for your trouble? Thus, it was only a matter of time before the spirit became a medium of exchange.
But when Rum became a commodity capable of producing great wealth, bad things soon followed: Wars were fought over Rum; families were ripped apart because of Rum; and centuries of slavery and bondage in the Caribbean occurred because of Rum.
It is surprising how effectively the dark history of Rum has been covered over. Say the name, and the images conjured up are of lazy, sun-filled days in the Caribbean and of tourists lying under umbrellas sipping mojitos. Yet this intoxicating brew was at least partially responsible for the American Revolution. No less an eminent figure than John Adams admitted as much: "I know not why we should blush to confess that molasses [the precursor to Rum] was an essential ingredient in American independence."
The colonists raged against the vestiges of the British mercantile system that forced them to import molasses exclusively from the British West Indies. The only problem was that Jamaica, Barbados, and the other Caribbean islands of the British Empire, could not produce enough molasses to satisfy the American thirst for Rum. That thirst was nearly insatiable. For example, in just one year, 1770, the white male population of the American colonies (less than 1.7 million) drank 7,517,000 gallons of Rum! The colonists simply ignored British law and sourced their molasses and Rum from islands throughout the Caribbean. Customs and trade officials were bribed to turn the other away while monumental amounts of Rum traversed The Americas. But when the British decided to enforce the law in order to increase their revenues to fight the Spanish, all hell broke loose. Americans loved their Rum, and they were willing to go to war over it!
Perhaps it is easy for Americans to forget their Rum history because we have no permanent markers to commemorate it. Not so in the Caribbean. While driving around in the numerous over-priced Rum tours organized by the cruise ship, I couldn't help but notice these beautiful brick buildings dotting the Caribbean landscape. The stood out against the gaily-painted cement and wooden structures typical of Caribbean architecture. I soon discovered the brick buildings had a special story to tell, one that is intimately connected with Rum. It turns out that en route to the Caribbean, the British used the bricks as ballast in order to balance out their ships weighted down with slaves and other necessities. But once the ships arrived in the Caribbean, the bricks were no longer needed. They were discarded in favor of Rum.
Ever resourceful, Caribbean men and women used the bricks to create structures of great beauty.

*pic is of a fort in Antigua

The Story of Rum

(Part 1 of a series; here's Part 2 and Part 3)

The idea seemed ludicrous on its face: Go on a 7 day Caribbean cruise? With my family?
With due apology to cruise aficionados, I am decidedly in the "anti-cruises" camp. They have always seemed rather . . . tame. My travels have been along the lines of the "exotic"--Senegal, Algeria, Côte d'Ivoire (during a coup no less!) I guess I like the adrenalin to flow when I'm traveling. But this was an opportunity to spend time with my family, all of whom live on the East Coast. So, I agreed to go. It turned out to be not nearly as bad as I had contemplated. In fact, I had fun -- most of the time anyway (Ok, so I skipped Disco Night in the ship's lounge. Sue me!)

One thing immediately struck me on the many land excursions: Rum is at the epicenter of Caribbean culture and the economy. Practically every island organized a tour of their Rum distillery, and each proclaimed itself producer of the "best Rum in the world." Rum was everywhere: Rum cake, Rum punch, Rum shots, and the ever popular Cuba Libre! or Rum and Coke (Bacardi and Coke, insists our tour guide at the Bacardi distillery in Puerto Rico). Our Bajan guide put it bluntly: In the Caribbean, for every church built, a rum shop crops up right next to it!

The diversity of Caribbean Rum can be dizzying. Each Island produces a brew with its own distinctive flavor. Here's a snapshot for the next time you order up a bottle: Barbados, reputedly the oldest operating Rum producer in the world (since 1663), is famous for light, sweet Rums. Cuba produces light-bodied, crisp, clean Rums -- although it is illegal for Americans to import it. Puerto Rico is known for light, very dry Rums. And Haiti produces heavier Rums that are aged to a full-bodied, smooth vintage. But in truth, my memories of Haitian Rum are different. Every year, my parents returned to New York from their Haitian vacation with bags full of an innocuous-looking clear liquid. It was Clairin, an unrefined Haitian Rum some called "moonshine." It stunk! I can remember my father and his friends sitting in our living room drinking Clairin, laughing, and exchanging news on Island politics. Although we lived in New York, Rum was a rich part of our social life (well, not mine . . . I was a kid!)

How did Rum become "a global spirit with its beating heart in the Caribbean"? That story is a fascinating one.

While its origins are shrouded in mystery, Rum is truly a global phenomenon. Of course, it could not exist without sugar cane, a tall, thick grass originally from Indonesia. The Chinese are said to have spread its cultivation to Asia and on to India. The Arabs then took up the charge, bringing sugar cane to the Middle East and North Africa. The crusading Europeans of the 11th century came upon sugar cane, and the Spanish and Portuguese carried it with them to the Canary and Azore Islands. And then came Christopher Columbus. En route to his second voyage to the New World in 1493, Columbus picked up cane cuttings from the Canaries and transplanted them to Hispaniola--the island now shared by Haiti and the Dominican Republic.

The Caribbean proved an ideal climate for the cultivation of sugar cane, and Europeans had a nearly insatiable appetite for sugar. To satisfy that craving, the huge sugar cane plantations were born. Sugar cane was planted, harvested and transformed into sugar, which was then exported to various European capitals.

The sugar plantations in turn needed lots of labor -- from slaves and indentured servants, to minor European nobility seeking their fortunes. With this cast of characters, and the harshness of Caribbean life in that period, it was only a matter of time before Rum became the brew of choice for the enslaved, the disaffected, and the lonely. French historian Alain Hertz de Lemp disparagingly called Rum "the drink of the Blacks, the buccaneers and all the vagabounds who scoured the new world."

How did Rum change its image? More on that later . . .
And if I've managed to whet your appetite for some Rum, here's a recipe for the Cuba Libre! as told to me by a bartender at the Bacardi distillery in Puerto Rico:

Fill a glass with ice. Add:

• 1-1/2 oz. dark Bacardi Rum
• Juice of half a lime
• 1 cup Coca-Cola
• Stir and garnish with lime twist

Enjoy!

On Clinton's appointment as UN envoy to Haiti

Haiti is one of those countries with a long last name. No one ever refers to the Caribbean country that shares an island with the Dominican Republic as simply "Haiti," but rather Haiti-the-poorest-country-in-the-Western-Hemisphere. In truth, the poverty is hard to miss. When I drove through the capital Port-au-Prince last fall, I was almost undone by the look of it, the smell of it, the sense of it. Poverty is a living, breathing, frightening thing that walks the streets and shadows Haiti's young. And with poverty comes the familiar evils of crime, political instability, slavery, malnutrition, discrimination and a general feeling of hopelessness.
Into this complex quagmire comes Bill Clinton, the recently appointed UN envoy to Haiti. Clinton's specific duties are as yet undefined, but when Secretary General Ban Ki-moon announced the appointment he said very simply "It is important to help this country." And it is. Is Bill Clinton the right person for the job?
Clinton has had a long history with Haiti. He is popular among Haitians for having aided the democratically-elected President Jean Bertrand Aristide when Aristide was ousted by reactionary forces in 1991. (But some Haitians--and Aristide himself--also blame the United States for the 2004 coup that ousted Aristide for good.) The Clinton Foundation sponsors much-needed projects on AIDS, health care and environmental issues in Haiti. And Clinton has been instrumental in lobbying the international community to provide monetary and other relief to Haiti. Indeed, Prime Minister Michele Pierre-Louis praised Clinton as "a great friend of Haiti," and claimed he was instrumental in helping the country secure $324 milliion in new aid from international donors.
Clinton comes to his post with a great deal of goodwill from the Haitian people. Let's hope he is able to harness that energy to help Haiti achieve something wonderful -- something beyond its current title as "the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere."

A Trip to Haiti

In December, I received a call asking me to go to Haiti on a trade and development project. Although I have done such work in the most unlikely of places--Algeria in the midst of a Civil War, for example--my first instinct was to question the project. Would it really make sense to put on a conference on the rules of origin obligations in international agreements in Haiti? After all, Haiti has faced crises that many would argue should take precedence over a trade policy agenda. President Rene Preval's government had undergone a threat to its credibility with the loss of its prime minister, and just weeks earlier the Island had been battered by a series of hurricanes that destroyed homes and washed away bridges severing some parts from Port-au-Prince, the capital. And then came reports of schools collapsing and the deaths of innocent children. The request to work in Haiti presented for me an opportunity (even an obligation) to question the limits of my work. Can I in good conscience talk about trade in the face of needs more pressing and more acute? To be perfectly honest, I made the decision to take on the project for my own selfish reasons. As a Haitian American who has done trade projects throughout the African continent, this was the first opportunity I had to make a contribution to the land of my ancestors. I could not imagine not going, even as I questioned whether my contribution would be "enough" (significant enough, useful enough, relevant enough . . . )

When I landed at the airport in Port-au-Prince, I was assailed by memories. I was reminded of the day my grandmother took me to that very same airport and explained to my siblings and I that we would be joining our parents in New York--but that she would stay behind. I was four years old at the time. I remember flying back to that airport just five years later so that we could bury my mother on Haitian soil just as she wanted. And I remember returning to that airport in my mid-twenties at last ready to confront that part of my history and my past--I had not been back to Haiti for years, and my sense of connection to the Island was tenuous at best. Now here I was a decade-and-a-half later returning to Haiti on a trade and development project.

What I learned from my time in Haiti far exceeded any contribution I might have made. Yes, I worked hard to put together a meaningful workshop on rules of origin obligations under international agreements, but what I got in return was a sense of renewal. After years of work in this area, I had come to loath incrementalism. I was tired of the one-small-step syndrome and wanted to be part of something that could usher in a sudden, quantum leap of change. I wanted to waive a magic wand that would right the economic and political wrongs of Ethiopia and allow that huge, fertile country to prosper. Ditto for Senegal, The Ivory Coast, South Africa, Cape Verde and every other country I had worked with over the last decade. And if I could not do that, I wanted to do nothing. It is a terrible thing to lose faith that the work you are doing is meaningful. Haiti allowed me to once again see meaning in my work.

At the rule of origin workshops, I met Haitians who were strong, committed advocates of trade. But I also met many who believed (as I secretly did) that Haiti had more pressing problems. Rather than suppressing those sometimes combustible opposing views, I welcomed them. Our discussions were hot and heavy at times as we explored the many ways trade laws both help and hurt developing countries. And there was something about seeing these folks grappling with the same dilemmas I had that renewed my commitment to be a part of the larger debate. Inexplicable perhaps, but true.

When I returned from Haiti, I immediately began work on a new writing project: How history has shaped Haiti's current role in the international trading system. I want to understand the current impediments to Haitian trade--both internal and external. The only way to do so, in my view, is to understand how international trade shaped Haiti's destiny. I am not interested in history for its own sake, but rather want to understand the lessons of history to apply them to the present.

Talk about incremental change!

On December 12

On this day in ...

... 2001, the Association of Caribbean States concluded its 3d summit meeting with the issuance of the Declaration of Margarita, in which, among other things, they "pledge[d] to establish the region of the Greater Caribbean as a Zone of Co-operation," "appeal[ed] to the Government of the United States of America to end the application of the Helms-Burton" Act, a 1996 U.S. statute that reached transnationally to restrict trade with Cuba; called for better cooperation to combat terrorism, organized criminal activity, and corruption; urged the strengthening of trade relations; drew attention to "the urgent necessity of forging a new culture of water"; and thanked the summit host, Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez.

... 1977, was the 1st day of the opening for signature of 2 treaties designed to elaborate upon the law of armed conflict. Monitored by the International Committee of the Red Cross, they are: (1) Additional Protocol I, formally titled the Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and relating to the Protection of Victims of International Armed Conflicts, which entered into force in 1979 and now has 168 states parties; and (2) Additional Protocol II, formally titled the Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and relating to the Protection of Victims of Non-International Armed Conflicts, which entered into force in 1978 and now has 164 states parties. The United States is not among them.

Write On! The Meanings of 1808 and the Meanings of CLR James

Two recent Calls for Papers may be of interest to the legal historians and otherwise interdisciplinary-minded among us… One involves a 200th anniversary commemoration of the legal prohibition on “importing” Africans into the United States for enslavement. Another examines the life and legacy of African-Caribbean scholar-activist (and sports enthusiast) CLR James.

1808: Fighting for the Right to Dream
The organizing committee sent us the “Call for Papers and Witness” for an interdisciplinary and transnational conference on Saturday, 25 October 2008 in Toledo, Ohio. Abstracts (1-2 pages) should be sent to Professor Ben Davis (e-mail ben_davis@utoledo.edu) of the University of Toledo College of Law by August 15, 2008.
Here’s a taste of what looks to be a groundbreaking “truth and reconciliation” session for the United States and beyond… (Image Right: Frontispiece of 1789 autobiography of Olaudah Equiano, an African man who was kidnapped from his home and enslaved in the Americas. He purchased his freedom and became a prominent abolitionist. Image Credit: The Board of Trustees of the National Museums & Galleries on Merseyside, Merseyside Maritime Museum).

Scholars are invited to come to Toledo and bear witness and discuss 1808… the year of the abolition of the importing of slaves into the United States.… The papers and witness being invited in this call for papers are about the meanings of 1808. Those meanings might be found in the life of a slave in the United States at that time such as Barbary. Born in 1787 in Africa and sold into slavery in 1800 in North Carolina to the Harrison family (of Founders and Presidents fame), Barbary was enslaved, black and twenty-one in 1808. How do we keep slave stories such as her story alive?

Those meanings might be found in 1847 in the founding of
Liberia and Liberia’s history. Or in the Civil War. Or in Reconstruction. Or in Jim Crow. Or in 1908, year of birth of the late Justice Thurgood Marshall whose life was dedicated to fighting for the right to dream. Or in a picture in a courtroom in Norman, Oklahoma in 1948 of Ada Sipuel dreaming of being a lawyer. Or in the mass movements of the civil rights and human rights movements. Or in 1968 with the assassination of the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.…

Those meanings might be found in Africa and the Middle East,
Asia, Europe, Latin America and the Caribbean, and Australia and the Pacific. What does 1808 mean to the world? .... Scholars from around the world ... are invited to submit.

CLR James on American Civilization

Co-convenors Professor Joanne St. Lewis (left) and Professor Ravi Malhotra (lower left) of the English Common Law Section, Faculty of Law, University of Ottawa, alerted us to another interdisciplinary gathering. This time the meeting takes place in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada on Friday, 20 March 2009. The focus is on the implications of James’ publication of American Civilization (a work begun in 1949) as well as the impressive scope and impact of James’ life and work overall. Proposals should include a cover letter, c.v., and abstract of no more than 300 words (in either French or English). The deadline circulated earlier has been extended, so please contact Professor Malhotra (e-mail rmalhotr@uottawa.ca) or Professor St. Lewis (e-mail Joanne_StLewis@uottawa.ca) for further information. Here's an abstract of the Call:

Reimagining Western Civilization: On the 60th Anniversary of the Writing of C.L.R. James’ American Civilization

In 1949, the great Caribbean historian and intellectual, C.L.R. James, began to write what would become one of his most important if all too often ignored works, American Civilization. Published the following year, American Civilization boldly reframed the relationship between popular art and culture, through a discussion of the work of Walter Whitman and Herman Melville. James sought to explore the complex relationship between individual freedom and social life through what he saw as the dynamic struggle for happiness in modernmerican society. In this one day conference scheduled for March 20th, 2009, we seek to explore all facets of James’ complex life from anti-colonial struggles to racism and Black Nationalism to cricket and beyond.