Hepburn on Haiti in the Early Geffrard Years

So, Hepburn's Haiti As It Is focuses on the following 3 areas of Haiti that I find pertinent to my last post:

1. The effects of the earthquake of 1842 are still felt, paritcularly in the extensive ruins of Cap-Haitien and the any towns and villages of the north of Haiti. Yet one can still see that Cap-Haitien was the "Paris of the Antilles" and the finest town in the West Indies because of its impressive ruins and natural splendor. The earthquake's widespread destruction, remembered nearly 20 years later, shows how important understanding the impact of natural phenomena is for the study of history, since the 1842 earthquake contributed to the fall of the Boyer regime (and in more recent times, has obviously shaped Haitian and international politics in Hispaniola).

One gets the impression that for the most part, none of these towns have had any rebuilding efforts, although the streets of Cap-Haitien were repaved with limestones and Geffrard was, in the eyes of Hepburn, an able and wise ruler who cared enough for the people of Gonaives to endeavor to retain their trust by beginning a drilling project to establish an artesian well, despite the imperfect ground conditions. Also, apparently on the 8th of April in 1861, another severe earthquake struck the north of Haiti, centered near Port-de-Paix. Surprisingly, it did not cause the same kind of widespread and memorable destruction created by the one in 1842.

2. Geffrard's initiatives to improve the economy of Haiti also involved plans for light industry and another African-American immigration scheme, which sought to not only increase the population of Haiti for more laborers but recruit farmers with experience in cotton cultivation, a product Geffrard wanted to substantially increase the methods and amount of production. Indeed, Geffrard's interest in industrial technology and implements for agriculture also included a plan for the Haitian state to subsidize the distribution of said technology for farmers who would then pay the costs back gradually through commission and annual fees. These African-American settlers were mostly sent to the plain of the Artibonite, often to specialize in cotton.

Other economic priorities for Geffrard's administration in its early years included tapping into the mineral resources, which is part of the geological study conducted by Hepburn. In other news, Hepburn perhaps exaggerates the degree to which Haiti was dependent on American food, since most of the Haitian rice went to the domestic market and was widely consumed in Haiti, the American rice being mostly consumed in port towns and adjacent villages. If only Hepburn provided data on colonial Jamaica's trade, then we could see if Haiti was truly as equally dependent on the US and other countries for food.

3. In some ways, Nicholls echoes sentiments voiced by Hepburn in the 1860s, who believes "the social bane of Haiti is complexional prejudice; there, as here, it chokes every kind of sentiment, and there, as here, it leaves society a mass of jarring discordant elements." In addition to other social ills, the widespread practice of concubinage or sexual relationships outside of marriage, as well as Vodou (and shockingly, Hepburn visits a Vodou temple in Croix-des-Bouquets and claims that many Haitian officials practiced or observed the faith) inhibited progress, being a result of degeneration and emulation of French customs and savagery wrought by military government and barbarians like Faustin Soulouque. European bias aside, this Anglo-Jamaican writer is quick to defend anti-racist sentiments and attribute the causes of the decline in Haitian agriculture and society to military forms of government and other non-racial factors.In many ways he sounds like Candler and Hanna, two Christian travelers of British origins with similarly high opinions of the necessities of Christian moral instruction for improving society.

Alas, Hepburn's account ends too soon and he did not travel in other parts of Haiti, nor did he get to see firsthand the negative turn of events in Geffrard's presidency. From reading Dubois, Dupuy and a few others, I know Geffrard did support education, founded a law school, and his support for light industrialization was forward-looking, the rest of his administration seemed to have fallen into a similar pattern as his predecessors. I will have to do some more reading to have a well-rounded overview or appraisal of his presidency in a future post.

Haitian Exports in 1860

Haitian exports by weight and numbers in 1860, table taken from Hepburn's Haiti As It Is, a rather sympathetic description of his impressions of the early Geffrard years. Note that compared to 1838 and 1839, the weight of coffee exports is actually much smaller, around 22 million lbs. versus an average of over 43 million lbs. for 1838 and 1839. What went wrong? Also, tobacco is no longer an export, but other exports such as logwood remained more constant. Could the decline in coffee exports be attributable to competition from Brazil, Java (Indonesia) and elsewhere?

 Also, by 1860, Hepburn states that Haiti imported nearly twice the value of its exports, another sign of increasing dependency, especially on the US, the principal trading partner who provided mostly provisions (a similar economic relationship existed for the British colonies in the Caribbean, such as Jamaica, whose markets often relied on US provisions and exports for sustenance). Since the state derived most of its revenue from duties on imports and exports, clearly the masses felt the blow as they paid more for imports from the US, France, Germany, and Britain while receiving less and less in exchange for their own products. Because the most essential export product of peasant and rural communities remained coffee, but less coffee was being exported, one can see how the process of greater poverty and dependency began to appear.

There are some interesting what-ifs in Hepburn's overly optimistic and pro-Geffrard travel narrative. I am still reading, but there was talks between an Anglo-French company and the Haitian government to tap into Haiti's deposits of lignum vitae, which, according to Hepburn, was another source of energy, like coal, for the 19th century. According to him, this foreign company and Geffrard's government were discussing the establishment of a railway in the area of Haiti with vast deposits and connecting it to the nearest port town, as well as the transfer of industrial technology for such a project. That such an idea was in discussion under Geffrard was part of Hepburn's overwhelmingly pro-Geffrard narrative, because he saw Soulouque as causing a decline in Haitian civilization whereas Geffrard was able, wise, just, interested in education and industrialization, and preparing to remove the militarized form of the Haitian state to usher in progress and prosperity. He also got the Haitian government its first steam boats, each one named for the president! Moreover, Geffrard lessened the amount of time soldiers were expected to be on duty in order to support agriculture. 

Haiti's principal trading partner was the United States, and provisions were the majority of American exports to Haiti. Indeed, if Hepburn is to be taken seriously on this matter, Haiti, like Jamaica and other British colonies in the Caribbean, was quite dependent on US foodstuffs, such as flour, rice, pork, etc. France provided wine, Britain dry goods, and Germany, sausage, cheese and manufactured products. Unfortunately, Hepburn does not provide data on the values or weight and numbers of foreign products in Haiti. 

 Needless to say, Geffrard did not live up to the great praise and expectations of Hepburn, of being such a hero and progressive leader in mid-19th century Haiti. Instead, he retained a military system in governance and relied upon the British to put down an uprising against his regime before exile in Jamaica. I will write a follow-up post after I finish perusing Hepburn for additional insights or commentary on Haiti in the early 1860s. 

Houston Person's Jamilah and Young-Holt Unlimited's Soulful Strut

I must say, I am quite fond of "Jamilah," a funky jazz number by Person from the 1970s. Funky, soulful, jazzy, what's not to love? The drummer is on point and Person's blowing helps the song steer away from the set path of stereotypical jazz fusion or smooth jazz of its period. Indeed, Person shows off some influences from avant-garde jazz with his honking style, somewhat reminiscent of the work of Ornette Coleman yet brewed in a soul-funk soup. Indeed, this is perhaps one of my favorite jazz recordings to feature so prominently an electric organ, too.

Also, finally discovered the title of a song I have been jamming to for a few months now, "Soulful Strut," by Young-Holt Unlimited, a Chicago area R&B group from the 1960s that featured some jazz musicians. Barbara Acklin sang the version with lyrics, but it's surprisingly less moving or interesting, perhaps due to her brash and 'blues shouting' approach to the breezy sound did not mesh well on radio. In addition, much like "Tracks of My Tears" by Smokey Robinson, I hear something "Caribbean" in the lilting "Soulful Strut," though perhaps I am just imagining it. Regardless, it's a beautiful, unforgettable melody.

From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race, Colour and National Independence in Haiti: A Short Review

Image courtesy of http://www.blackpast.org/gah/duvalier-jean-claude-baby-doc-1951

I am not sure how I feel about the much-lauded From Dessalines to Duvalier: Race, Colour and National Independence in Haiti by David Nicholls. I have skimmed the book twice and recently read it about a month ago, and am not sure if Nicholls approaches his two areas of focus with enough nuance, the question of race or color and the ways in which Papa Doc's regime gained legitimacy or became an entrenched institution for decades. The text is clearly a classic because of its wide breadth, epic scope, and well-researched pages reveal how deep Nicholls delved into Haitian primary sources for his analysis, particularly his readings of 19th century Haitian writings to buttress his analysis of that crucial first century of Haitian independence.

However, one begins to wonder why he wrote such a long text when he contradicts and modifies his thesis on the importance of color in Haitian history. For example, on more than one occasion, he refers to instances of mixed-race Haitians allying themselves with 'black nationalism' or some form or 'noiriste' ideology, such as Thomas Madiou serving under Soulouque, Salnave, a light-skinned mulatto being a "product of the noiriste tradition of the north, the Afrocentrism of Carl Brouard, a mulatto, and numerous instances of prominent black or mulattoes serving or representing the interests of the Liberal or National parties despite the binary lens of black versus brown Nicholls wants to impose on political conflict.

Furthermore, he affirms the tendency among Haitian elites of all backgrounds to express pride in their being descendants of Africans, even when such Haitians were virtually indistinguishable from Europeans! For instance, Baron de Vastey, a mulatto supporter of Henri Christophe, wrote about the blackness of ancient Egypt and followed European travel narratives of the 18th and 19th century to dismiss the notion that all of contemporary Africa was a land of savagery. In addition, later elite mixed-race and black Haitians of the 19th century proudly alluded to their African ancestry in writings, saw Haiti as proof of racial equality, and mulatto Haitian thinkers were far more complex than the narrow lens of a 'mulatto legend' Nicholls attributes to them. Sure, all 19th century Haitian thinkers for the most part saw the Africa of their day as barbaric and considered European cultural norms and society as the barometer for success to a certain degree, but many argued for Haitian cultural autonomy (Nau and Lespinasse) or, like Janvier, Firmin and Sylvain, became involved in anti-racist scholarship, 'black nationalism' or pan-Africanism.

Indeed, by the 1890s and early 1900s, some Haitian writers wrote admiringly of African-derived traditions (Innocent, Dorsainvil). Thus, to me, Nicholls takes the rider on a rollercoaster ride across Haitian history by emphasizing the color question yet simultaneously illustrating how complex, surprising, and class-centered much of elite contests for power were in the first century of Haitian independence. He even writes about these conflicts as being more about rhetorical strategies and slight ideological differences among different sectors of the elite where color could arise as a point of conflict. This does now show the central role of color in Haitian social relations, but rather the importance of color in relation to class and  the ideology of race for elites (who may or may not endeavor to use it to legitimize their rule). In the case of Haiti, race seems to trump class, though naturally race as a social determinant is a function of class in some ways, and vice versa.

Personally, what would be of greater interest to me in terms of an analysis of notions of race, color and class is an analysis of black anciens libres and their mixed-race fellow free people of color from the colonial period into 19th century Haiti, where one can read more specifically into marriage and other forms of social interaction among black and brown elites in an attempt to measure class mobility and intra-class conflict from the days of French rule to independence. Such a feat could be done, and Nicholls himself hints at the class roots of much of Haitian political conflict, as well as the uncanny resemblance between black and mixed elites. In fact, based on Garrigus's Before Haiti and numerous essays on free people of color in the south of Saint Domingue, one can trace the rise of powerful families in Haitian history from the late colonial period, such Boisrond Tonnerre. Another interesting study could focus more on the broader ideological and pro-black messages of 19th century Haitian literature and relations with the Black Atlantic, which eschews some of the dichotomous black/mulatto lens used by Nicholls. More specifically, what is needed (or at least of interest to me and perhaps more useful for elucidating the origins and structure of Duvalierism and Haitian failures at accountable democratic governance) is vast research on social, political, religious, cultural, transnational, and other dimensions of Haitian history and society to avoid reductionist, one-dimensional readings of Haitian underdevelopment and poverty. If internal race/color conflicts is not the main factor, then of course neither is religion or popular culture (an idea still popular with some of the evangelical crowd in the US).

Of course, Haitian social elites largely interacted among themselves, married among themselves or foreigners, engaged in political and cultural spaces among themselves and inevitably mixed in some way, even if some light-skinned elites continued to look down on their darker-hued peers or rejected marriage alliances. Even some of the 'noiristes' from the school of the Griots such as Papa Doc married light-skinned or white women, formed close relationships with certain mulatto elite families, and incorporated them into the machinations of the state. As one of this blog's followers has revealed, one of the principal architects and ministers of Papa Doc's authoritarian rule was Gerard de Catalogne, who could have easily passed for white. Such instances unveil the silliness of nonsensical claims of a 'mulatto genocide' under Papa Doc. Moreover, his son, Baby Doc, married a mulatto woman from the bourgeoisie, though Burnham thinks this was one of the ways Baby Doc lost his legitimacy among the small black middle-class. Similarly, Aristide is accused of losing his legitimacy by marrying a light-skinned woman from the diaspora, Mildred Trouillot, an interesting perspective but one that would be minor in comparison to the much larger role played by elites and foreign interests in unseating Aristide (or a plethora of other reasons, such as corruption, mismanagement, and other alleged wrongdoings).

Consequently, the larger question of what ideological basis was resorted to under Papa Doc or various other Haitian governments is much larger than race itself, or even the rising black middle class and urban proletariat's alleged interest in naive black nationalism. Would the black middle-classes continue to support a predatory government that preys on their gullibility for so long? Was some form of 'noirism' really one of the significant things in consideration for middle-class Haitians during the Papa Doc years? I am not sure, and I don't believe Nicholls has said too much of substance on 20th century Haiti. The question of the rise of Duvalierism and the 20th century process through which it occurs is better left to other scholars, particularly the nuanced and detailed Red and Black in Haiti by Michael J. Smith. Reviewed by a fine literary scholar of Haiti, Dash, Smith's book is multi-dimensional, nuanced, detailed, and ignores some of the sweeping generalizations and contradictions of Nicholls, who, despite recognizing some of these aforementioned flaws that undermine his work, persists in believing in it. Dupuy's interesting analysis of Haitian underdevelopment helps locate the origins of Duvalierism in a vast array of Haitian and international social and economic forces that contributed to exploitation, autocracy, and meddling from the North to undermine Haitian democracy. Indeed, wasn't one of the main reasons Duvalier enjoyed American support because of his commitment to anti-Communism? I am sure US funding helped keep afloat his parasitic government that further drained the Haitian people of needed funds, social programs, and infrastructure. Alternatively, one could look much earlier into the established pattern of Haitian dictatorships throughout the 19th century for precedents of Duvalierism, such as Soulouque's regime, which also featured Vodou and other appeals to subaltern and elite "African" interests.

Overall, read Nicholls for a good overview of Haitian history, particularly in some of the fascinating figures of 19th century Haitian letters, but be wary of his color obsession and, in my opinion at this moment, his incomplete answer to the roots of legitimacy and acceptance of Papa Doc and Baby Doc. I actually need to do some very serious readings myself, since I am not nearly as informed as I should be though Duvalier is the reason my family came to America in the first place...

Harvey On the Collapse of Christophe's Kingdom

After finally reading Harvey's Sketches of Hayti, I feel that I have a somewhat better idea of how exactly Christophe's kingdom in the northern part of Haiti collapsed. Obviously, Harvey is only one source and a European with his own biases and incomplete view, but he is more reliable in some ways than other sources on Christophe's state, such as the Baron de Vastey, who Harvey accuses of exaggeration (as well as a slew of other negative character flaws). Nevertheless, the author himself prefaces his account by alluding to a certain degree of censorship, and his own views of Africa and blacks (though he is quick to point to the barbarity of the negro being a result of slavery's effects rather than any innate racial inferiority) and the superiority of western European cultures certainly helps elucidate part of his rather defensive portrait of Christophe's state. 

Indeed, until the later years of Christophe's reign, Harvey sees his kingdom as the better than the republic in the south because of Christophe's sincere interest in the welfare of the people but also his stern and direct guidance in matters of the economy, labor, and education. Though he never stepped foot in the southern half of Haiti, based on information from a European informant, Harvey concludes that the republic was weakened by the lack of a single, strong and centralized head of government and the constitution's willingness to appease the ex-slave masses (where exactly Harvey gets off concluding that despite the 1816 Constitution empowering Petion to rule as president for life is beyond me...). Basically, Christophe was the strong, paternalistic and demanding father whereas Petion's republic was characterized by a relaxed and less intensive guidance from Port-au-Prince for the populace. 

Petion let the masses fall into their 'African' habits and savagery, more or less (and Harvey alludes to instances of Haitians in the republic being rude to whites because of the color of their skin and falling into vices and savagery wrought by their former conditions of slavery). Now, much of this is based on information provided by a single person, and Harvey contradicts himself by referring to the greater amount of commerce flowing through Port-au-Prince than Le Cap (or Cap Francois, as he calls it, as if it was still the same old colonial city! Interesting sidenote, Harvey says there were more American merchants and traders than any other foreigners in Christophe's state.) and some praise for the republic, but clearly, Christophe was, though about to turn tyrannical, jealous, and paranoid, did more to 'civilize' and contain false notions of liberty entertained by many ex-slaves.

As to the degree of popularity and acceptance of Christophe's rule before its end, Harvey states that Christophe was well-liked among the people, respected, and appreciated for his skills as a statesman and general. Elites were, as a part of his quasi-feudal system of governance, appointed to positions of authority and land (particularly civil officers, the military elite, and a landed aristocracy crafted by Christophe through investiture) and for the most part, qualified individuals (disproportionately mixed-race and more than a few under-educated and corrupt government officials were also part of his system of governance, but Harvey sees this as a result of their so recent conditions of slavery depriving them of education, a remedy for which Christophe was applying to much of the population through the establishment of schools based on the Lancasterian system) to execute his wishes. Naturally, one must be skeptical of how representative Harvey's views were for the lower classes, the workers, artisans, and peasants, but according to him, the peasantry were well-compensated for their work and the masses were proud to have such an able black ruler. 

So what happened? Why did Christophe lose favor with his subjects? Harvey does not provide enough information, which is no surprise given his foreign outlook and lack of close enough ties to some of the elite circles to which he attributes the origin of the coup. He also mentions the incompetence of Christophe's son, though despite his ineptitude for governance, he was popular with the military. This could be a relevant facotr to the demises of Christohe's regime because his son would have succeeded him, which could have later on led to a coup or perhaps motivated some of the elite to replace Christophe during his own lifetime. Christophe's fear, justified based on French talk of reconquering the island, perhaps fed his paranoia and suspicions of his own nobility. This, in turn,  could have fueled his detachment from much of his former advisors, his punishment of some by replacing them with less qualified candidates, and demotions of aristocrats who were formerly part of his inner circle. Maybe, just maybe, Christophe began to see conspiracies against his rule or perhaps French alliances with members of his government. 

Thus, Christophe became increasingly tyrannical, paranoid, and cruel against his own people. Furthermore, Harvey alludes to severe laws such as restrictions on the movement of Europeans in his domains, limiting them to 3 miles into the interior, and a regulation imposed on Europeans requiring them to submit their papers and documents to government officials for surveillance and security purposes. Whether or not these excessive acts motivated the elite to turn against Christophe, his own laws targeting native Haitians seem to have been the main factor in inciting the revolt. Details are lacking, but Harvey's account begins the fall of Christophe with the story of a few mulatto women from the Cap who refused to submit themselves to some 'severe' law (Harvey does not state which), leading them to pray at a church for some disaster or death of Christophe. Word traveled through the grapevine, reaching Christophe in no time, who then ordered for their execution. The public response was one of outrage and disgust, with much of the elite (who were likely already plotting and waiting for an opportunity to depose Christophe) tapping on the negative public outcry to initiate a revolt. 

Harvey makes it seem like race or color was another factor, with some of the mulatto elites being the first to organize against Christophe. Supposedly, many of these mulatto Haitians had reluctantly acknowledged the authority of Christophe, and barely hid their disdain even during the early years of Christophe's reign. Now, I am not sure how Harvey would know this or be so convinced of its accuracy, and since so many mulattoes were key in the upper posts of Christophe's government, I am skeptical of the veracity of Harvey's claim (though I am sure a handful of these folks may have held the views Harvey attributes to them). 

Regardless of the 'color' question in Christophe's fall, these elites likely came together based on their mutual interest of protecting their wealth and power, and Christophe dug himself into a hole by alienating himself from many if not most of his subjects. The military elite and the common soldiers were convinced to turn against Christophe in order to protect their necks, as well as their own positions of authority. Even Christophe's guard turned against him, leaving him with no options but to either die by their swords or commit suicide, choosing the latter of the two. The degree to which much of the soldiers were actually swayed by the old titled nobility's argument that they too could become targets of Christophe's wrath is unknown, but I am sure many, like the aristocrats, saw a chance and at great risk, took it to attain more power or affluence.

That's how it all ended, according to Harvey's rather less detailed narrative. The very same group that initiated the coup could never decide upon which form of government to pursue afterwards, and reunion with Boyer's republic in the south became the most attractive proposal after the temporarily selected ruler, Romaine, became despotic. I will have to conduct more research into how it exactly all came to an end, but this certianly added some depth to my comprehension of Christophe's fall. 

"Im In the Mood for Love" and The Cosby Show

"Am I insane or do I really see heaven in your eyes?"

Moments like this are why The Cosby Show will always be one of my favorite shows. Beautiful, sentimental, and 'fun' family moments like these are unforgettable. Moreover, Cosby got Nancy Wilson to sing, too! The show featured numerous black musical legends, including Stevie Wonder, Dizzy Gillespie, Tito Puente, Lena Horne, Art Blakey, Miriam Makeba and a plethora of others in addition to featuring music of jazz and R&B legends such as James Brown, Stevie Wonder, B.B. King, John Coltrane, and Duke Ellington. Indeed, this show introduced me to King Pleasure, as well as the unforgettable "In a Sentimental Mood" by Duke Ellington, featuring Coltrane. Claire Huxtable (Phylicia Rashad) ain't a bad singer, either.

Mayfield's I Loved and I Lost

This leaves me breathless. Beautiful, heart-aching, poignant, well-arranged by Johnny Pate, and featuring Mayfield and the rest of The Impressions singing their best. Mayfield's falsetto on "I loved and I lost" is also among his best vocal chops I have heard so far. "She was so beautiful, like flowers full bloom in May. Her kiss was like the roaring wind, it left me speechless with nothing to say, no, no, no." And the way the song concludes! Those crying horns match Mayfield's despondent voice! 

Curtis Mayfield's Woman's Got Soul

http://soultrain.com/2013/03/05/curtis-mayfield-a-pioneer-in-socially-conscious-music/

1. Jerry Butler sings a great version of "Woman's Got Soul" I had never heard before. It's very similar to the version by The Impressions, with similar syncopation and rhythm guitar but featuring a seemingly more pronounced deeper voice for the horns, a faster tempo, and a loud and proud pianist coming out of the blues and jazz tradition. Butler's approach to the song's lyrics are appropriately 'on point' in terms of emphasizing the same parts of the song Mayfield and The Impressions do, but with his deeper voice and immense gravity instead of Mayfield's falsetto, the song sounds much more forceful and yet weak in Butler's melismatic approach. It's almost as if the protagonist of the song is so giddy his voice falters a bit and his nervousness brings him back down to Earth.

2. Joe Williams has a baritone, but it all works with the jazzy orchestral arrangement of Mayfield's tune. I have written a review of the album on which Williams recorded "Woman With Soul," accessible here. He comes from the 'blues shouter' and jazz traditions, and it all works because, as mentioned previously in my other post on the relationship between jazz and soul in the collaborations of Mayfield and Pate. To be honest, as a sucker for jazz, the swinging drums and big band orchestration that is even 'jazzier' than the Mayfield original, makes this one of my favorite performances of "Woman's Got Soul." Listen to those horns, who could resist? And through it all, Williams miraculously manages to retain his dominance in the musical layers established by the large band.

3. The Cherokees also recorded a version, and honestly, I never heard of them before. They're a 1960s rock band, from Australia or the UK, and I am less fond of their guitar-driven rock cover and their almost dull singing. It's unfortunately true, in so much of the rock music from this era, rock musicians tended to lack the vocal styles and chops that were almost essential in soul. Their approach on the rhythm of the song is where things are more interesting, due to the almost 'garage' rock sound of the band. It's folksy or garage-like in its simplicity and clearly a product of rock percussion rather than the jazz swing of Williams. Nevertheless, those rocking drums combined with the guitar outro, is moving and dance-worthy. This song serves as a powerful reminder of the dialogue between rock/pop and 'black' genres of music in the 1960s. Everyone was singing each other's music and influences flowed both ways.

4. The Impressions (with Curtis Mayfield) features Mayfield on guitar, which probably explains some of the similarities between this version and Butler's. It lacks the same strolling piano licks of Butler's cover, but makes up with Mayfield's fine falsetto, the addition of his excellent back-up singers to round out his higher-pitched vocals and a more melodic, emphasis on Mayfield's rhythm guitar as the basis of the song without so much of the excess hornfare in Butler's take. In some ways, the lack of the strikingly independent piano licks on this version of the song allows Mayfield's voice to shine with his unique and aptly gospel-tinged hope for "the woman's got soul." It's imbued with so much spirituality and longing combined with fast-paced drumming to keep it all together. Though not swinging, clearly

5. The Impressions (live) is valuable for seeing a live performance of what to me represents the epitome of 1960s Chicago soul. Listen to Mayfield's voice, watch the relaxed smiles, well-dressed, stylish group. It's essentially the same as the studio recording, but with the addition of seeing the band look like they're enjoying themselves, it's worthwhile in my book. Mayfield's voice sounds less restrained, however, holding his lines a little longer with that irresistible falsetto. In addition, the smile on Gooden's face during his brief baritone interlude, sounding almost like Elvis, shows the group enjoying themselves! That visual appeal is obviously not going to be found in an audio recording. "And all the love that I have belongs to the woman with soul!"

6. B.B. King also sings the song, but I am not overly fond of this arrangement. It is, unsurprisingly, more about placing King's guitar at the forefront with electric piano instead of the acoustic piano found in the versions recorded by The Impressions and Jerry Butler. It is less centered around horn arrangements, and sounds like something from the 1970s or perhaps 1980s.

7. Tavis Minner, last but not least, does a good job singing the song in what sounds like a very similar arrangement used by Joe Williams, with similarly large band accompaniment. Minner, unfortunately, is not as strong a vocalist as Mayfield or Butler, but ain't bad. Minner's physicality, energy, endeavors to channel Williams, improvises on the lyrics, and gets the crowd clapping, earning him an 'A' for effort. Not bad, not bad at all. "She got soul!!!!"

I will really have to locate a biography of Mayfield to expand upon his life and music for this blog. Enjoy!

Nemours Jean-Baptiste

Very catchy old Haitian music! Nemours Jean-Baptiste was a master. The song's repetitive and light-hearted horns, catchy rhythms, delectable melodies, and improvisation is reminiscent of jazz's Caribbean roots. 

Edner Guignard's Les Belles Meringues d'Haiti

I recently discovered this gem of old Haitian music from the early 1960s and am loving it! Guignard's orchestra plays old Haitian meringue songs in the kompa style of that period, and they show off their incorporation of Cuban and American jazz influences, especially the pianist, Guignard himself. I love the horns on this album, which play brilliantly on "Promenade" and "Bamboche" and it's nice to hear their take on Ludovic Lamothe's Carnival hit, "Nibo." Quite beautiful. The horns are on point, especially on "Choupette," reminding me of Cuban mambo brassiness, although the accordion is distinct from most Cuban son and mambo I have heard. Guignard's jazz flourishes are a nice touch, too, reminding us of jazz's roots in the most Caribbean of American cities, New Orleans! I don't know, but the horns, infectious rhythms, joyous light-hearted songs (though very simple) and Guignard's jazzy approach to the piano make this a superb listening experience.

 As an avid fan of old Caribbean, African-American, and African music, this ranks among my favorite listening experiences. The band's versatility (playing a cha cha here) recalls the musical melting pot of the Caribbean, where influences flowed in and out between the islands. "Ti Joceline" features some nice accordion chops, too, worth checking out, as does "Odette." The only flaw is the repetitiveness of much of the album because some of the songs sound too similar. Listen to it at Grooveshark anyway! 

No Thing On Me (Cocaine Song)

Absolutely beautiful. This song epitomizes the best of post-Impressions Curtis Mayfield: embracing the funk idiom while retaining the sweet and soulful strings, horns, and smooth vocals of his earlier Chicago soul days. "My life's a natural high" indeed! With music like this, it's no surprise the Super Fly soundtrack was so popular and Mayfield rightfully honored by his work. I will be honest, part of the reason I love this song is the contributions of Johnny Pate's arrangements and conducting, a key ingredient in the brilliance and touch of jazz and a uniquely Chicago sound in Mayfield's music. I have written extensively on the importance of the Pate-Mayfield musical partnership here. Enjoy, I know I am. 

Tempus Fugit

Time truly flies, and on this piece, it's speeding by. Also, it's an excellent trio recording where Powell shows that a bebop pianist can play bop just as much as Charlie Parker on a sax. Enjoy!

Keep On Pushing

"I know I can make it with just a little bit of soul."

If Dreams Come True

I've always believed that the genius of Billie Holiday was her ability to turn second-rate material into gold. "If Dreams Come True" is a good example, a lyrically silly love song of the cutesy variety forced down Holiday's throat in her early years. In addition, Teddy Wilson, a genius of swing on the piano, as well as the rest of the band, make things interesting with lovely solos while Holiday coos and caresses us with her sweet and smooth delivery. For instance, listen to the song's long instrumental introduction, featuring Wilson tickling the keys. Or the musically delicious trombone and trumpet. Undoubtedly, any of Holiday's recordings featuring Wilson or Lester Young are guaranteed to be at least decent if not excellent. "In your caress, there's happiness!"

Occide Jeanty's Invocation

I need to get my hands on more music of Occide Jeanty, a Haitian composer of immense importance to Haitian music history. His "Invocation" is quite stirring and recommendable. Read this to get more information on his life and see where the stamp above came from. Also, check out this guitar rendition of "La Dessalinienne" that's not bad. If only more music or performances of this guy's music were online...

Haiti in the World Economy: Class, Race and Underdevelopment Since 1700

I recently read this gem of an overview of Haitian history by Alex Dupuy. Perhaps the reason I enjoyed it so much is that its in agreement with my own preconceived notions of Haitian underdevelopment as a product of a plantation model or dependency theory in economic relations with the North. However, after reading the text, it is hard to take seriously the neoliberal remedies for Haitian development, or, for that matter, development in a broader Caribbean and African context. Dupuy's thesis is best stated by him on the fifth page of the text:

I argue that Haiti’s underdevelopment stems from its incorporation into the capitalist world-system since the end of the seventeenth century as a peripheral economy specializing in the production of primarily agricultural crops for export and late some manufactured goods. In addition, the emergence of specific class, racial/color, and political relations and structures during the colonial period and after independence reinforced the economy’s dependence on foreign capital and it’s extroverted and unintegrated characteristics.

Hard to disagree with that, eh? It explains the structural flaws of the Haitian economy (and likewise, much of Latin America and Africa) as a product of unequal exchange in a capitalist world-system on the peripheries. Similarly, class and racial factors entrenched unequal economic and power relationships with Europe and North America that have perpetuated Haitian poverty. Fortunately, Dupuy does not attribute most of Haitian economic and political turmoil to the color question, since he spends a considerable amount of time in each chapter on Haitian history detailing the common interests of black and mulatto elites against the peasantry. 

For instance, the transformation of the interests of black military leaders during the Haitian Revolution from the same as the ex-slaves to resembling more and more those of their affranchi elites illustrates the flaws of attributing Haitian social inequality solely to color (57). Of course, one should not assume this was always the case, since Toussaint's nephew, Moise, was believed to have had a role in organizing a revolt against his uncle that sought land reform in favor of the ex-slaves (65). Also, I am not certain how dependable Dupuy's estimate is, but the Haitian War of Independence cost Haiti 1, 144, 258, 948 francs, an astronomical figure (74)! 

There are some moments where I question Dupuy's assessment of Haitian leaders, though. For example, he claims that the main goal of Dessalines was to establish the black elite as the uncontested leaders of Haiti (81). I don't buy that. Dessalines was willing to marry his daughter to one of the mulatto leaders of Haiti and, assuming we take Charles Mackenzie as a credible source, Dessalines was very trusting of Alexandre Pétion. This alleged pro-nouveaux libres policy of Dessalines was continued under Christophe, even though we know anciens libres were represented in his court and enjoyed positions of prestige and influence (86). Apparently workers fled Christophe's state for the republic to pursue their own subsistence and small landholding production, which suggests the sharecropping and peasant autonomy were stronger than in the north, which is not too surprising given Christophe's maintenance of large estates (88). I just wish Dupuy had some additional sources or figures for the numbers of people who fled Christophe's state for  Pétion's.

Anyway, moving back to the broader structural and economic underpinnings of the Haitian state, race and the particular path taken to Haitian independence hindered development due to diplomatic isolation. As Dupuy rightfully so argues, lack of full diplomatic relations prevented the Haitian bourgeoisie from engaging in complete financial and commercial transactions, limiting the amount of technology, access to markets, and sources of credit from the metropoles (93). Thus, the quest by Boyer to procure French recognition of Haitian independence, and thereby assuring other European powers would follow suit, was closely tied to attempts to restore export-oriented, latifundia-styled agricultural production (92). Now, we know things did not quite turn out well for him, with Boyer's Code Rural being a disaster and his several attempts to prevent the the proliferation of small farms and the sale of national lands, Boyer in 1821, 1832, 1837, 1835, and 1838 by suspending sales (94). 

This aforementioned struggle between peasants and small landholders to control their own productivity and have some degree of autonomy did not stop the merchant bourgeoisie from adopting a predatory position as speculators and merchants who underpaid producers of coffee, cacao and other exports while overcharging them for imported goods (103). Since Haitian rural communities were usually not entirely self-sufficient, they had to work through the merchant bourgeoisie which controlled access to foreign goods and the exchange of items in the port towns, creating a dependency that over time impoverished the peasantry (102). Although the divisions within the peasantry left room for class mobility, over time the conjunction of the merchant bourgeoisie setting prices for Haitian exports and cheating peasant producers, as well as the state's excessive taxation, resulted in greater poverty over the course of the 19th century (103). Added to the fluctuating prices for raw exports such as coffee, Haiti's economy could weaken tremendously if global prices fell, as was the case during the Great Depression (144). 

Haitian piquets, or rebel peasants, such as the movement led by Acaau in the 1840s, tried to resist some of these entrenched patterns in Haitian society by asking for higher prices on their products, but ultimately failed or were incorporated within the state (97). Perhaps the fact that it was the wealthier peasants, usually of the peasant elite and 'middle class,' played a role in weakening the path for radical change in rural Haiti, since the landless or rural proletariat that survived on selling its labor, as well as the poorer tenant farmers, did not arrive at leadership positions within these uprisings (110-111). This lack of a single goal or shared interest among peasantry likely contributed to the lack of a centralized or united revolutionary movement during the various uprisings of cacos and piquets.

Regardless, Dupuy is correct in challenging Lundahl's pro-capitalist stance on Haitian poverty, which suggests that the root causes of poverty are not to be found in the market system when the market and state interact in a vicious way that perpetuates poverty, hunger, and unequal social relations (105). To quote Dupuy, "Lundahl rightly stresses the political marginalization of the peasantry and their exploitation by the state but overlooks how ‘the market’ itself is a product of class relations and the conditions of existence that structured the population into dominant and subordinate groups, expressed through market exchanges" (106). Basically, the market and the state are not separable factors, and the critical role of foreign capital and the merchant bourgeoisie in dictating the rules of the state, comprising the state, and furthering dependency reveal the insidious bias of Lundahl and other European and North American economists who wish to attribute the underdevelopment of the Global South to internal causes not pertinent to capitalism. For this reason alone, Dupuy's text is of immense import for challenging dominant narratives of poverty in the so-called "Third World." 

Dupuy also dismantles the myth of overpopulation as a cause of Haitian underdevelopment when high birthrates are actually a product of that poverty. In cases of hunger, too, high population density does not explain hunger in societies with high income inequality (110). So instead of attributing Haitian underdevelopment to the high birthrates or looking at population density per cultivated acre, one should aim to diminish or eliminate the underlying causes, which, in the case of Haiti, would be income inequality, the market system, etc. Such a view aligns well with my critiques of the plethora of annoying North Americans and Europeans who believe that if only (insert poor country or poor continent) had fewer children, then everything would be okay or they could 'develop.'

Like the peasantry, even the merchant bourgeoisie and speculators were not impervious to foreign penetration and dependency. Described by countless scholars, such as Plummer, who analyzes the rise of "Syrians" as well as Europeans (particularly Germans) in controlling internal trade in Haiti and replacing the merchant bourgeoisie by the end of the 19th century (116). Clearly, by the end of the first century of Haitian independence, dependency, debt, foreign meddling, internal divisions, and a vested state interest in what some describe as a plantation model of economic growth, Haiti was firmly on the path of underdevelopment and ripe for US occupation. Though there were attempts to foster industry, education, modern technological innovations and transportation, it did not alter the pattern of Haitian turmoil, poverty, and dependency.

On the question of 20th century (and with some relevance to 21st century Haitian development plans), Dupuy, in my opinion, correctly reveals the inadequacy of light-manufacturing in urban Haiti as a possible solution to unemployment. These initiatives fueled rural to urban migration, thereby worsening overcrowding and the urban infrastructure of Port-au-Prince while only employing a marginal percentage of the workforce (178). Similarly, it reinforced Haitian dependency on foreign capital to establish the factories (175). Indeed, for every dollar of profit earned in Haiti from the manufacturing industries, 85 cents went to the US and a yearly average of 50 million USD of private capital was transferred to the US between 1977 and 1984, which illustrates the insanity of putting faith in what are really sweatshops as a pathway to Haitian development (179). The industrial park project, Caracol, for instance, has proven itself to be a disappointment and waste of time and money in a region of Haiti barely affected by the recent earthquake.

The following articles from Al-Jazeera and The New York Times are worthwhile reads for illuminating the lack of change in the US approach to Haitian underdevelopment. Essentially the same as the sweatshop industries supported in the 1970s and 1980s, which, as one can see from above, failed spectacularly. If the plan for 'reconstruction' is to expand textile factories due to low wages and the lack of unions, then Haiti could resemble the Dominican Republic in some ways, where egregious violations of workers' rights and low wages is the pattern at industrial parks there. Indeed, one can already see the development strategies favored by Martelly's government as a replica of some of the Dominican Republic's, such as tourism.

Agricultural policies of the US have also devastated the Haitian economy through cheap rice imports that weaken Haitian producers who cannot compete, the elimination of black pigs in the 1980s over an alleged swine flu outbreak that destroyed pig production, and other cheap food imports which has led to Haiti importing twice of what it exports (181, 183) In other words, a very poor country is getting worse and worse while other parts of Latin America are booming or at remaining static. 

The remainder of the text looks at Duvalier regimes, 20th century Haitian politics and the question or class and color, and contains some insignful commentary on 'black nationalism' and the dynamics of race and class that could easily pertain to the rest of the Caribbean or the US. At one point Dupuy seemingly becomes a class reductionist who sees race as a product of class dynamics, which seemingly contradicts his earlier position on race and class as mutually influencing each other (155). I find it odd that Dupuy never tackles the broader question of a less naive and fully informed by class form of black nationalism. Perhaps something along the lines of black nationalist strands of leftist economics and social movements in Trinidad or even among some segments of the US Black Power Movement. But I digress, this book is essential for mainstream readers. It can dispel so many of the myths we receive in the media, the UN, the World Bank, the IMF, and the US government on root causes of poverty. Keep in mind that Dupuy never obfuscates the role of Haitians themselves in perpetuating these problems, but the critical role of the European powers and the US certainly have not made any improvements. 

Manman

Beautiful. I was listening to Super Jazz des Jeunes and came across this gem for mothers. Quite a beautiful arrangement and moving ballad. The influence of Cuban band music is self-evident, I suppose. 

Alice Coltrane Plays the Blues: Turiya and Ramakrishna

Alice Coltrane, much like John Coltrane, went toward avant garde and "Eastern" religious and spiritual influences in her music. Taken from Ptah, the El Daoud, an excellent release from 1970, "Turiya and Ramakrishna" captures Coltrane encapsulating the spirit of the blues in her approach to jazz piano. She seamlessly fuses her blues-drenched tone poem with avant garde and "Eastern" influences to exemplify the soul of jazz, paying homage to one's roots while taking future routes to new lands. The basic blues form, which builds the foundation for the composition, the light swing and additional percussion, and Coltrane's stunning solo glides across the keyboard. Her style actually bears some commonalities with McCoy Tyner, who played with John Coltrane prior to Alice, though without the penchant for block chords. Ron Carter, the bassist, gets in on the fun, too, showing his keen attention to melody and grace per usual. 

Dat Scat

My jam! That saxophone, funky drums from Questlove, acoustic bass sound, smooth keys, and catchy rap lyrics. The Roots were in their jazz-rap phase for their early albums, but sometimes it paid off very well. A great example of that is this song. 

Essential Jazz Jam of the Day: Fuschia Swing Song

There's something about this song and the album of the same name that marks it as great post-bop jazz of the 1960s. Sam Rivers, who has played with brilliant forces in jazz such as Andrew Hill and Bobby Hutcherson on the latter's Dialogue, repeats the trend with accompaniment from Tony Williams, Ron Carter, and Jaki Byard, each great musicians on their own who recorded with titans such as Miles Davis and Charles Mingus. Rivers soars, honks, runs, and just about everything else in his swinging, blazing solo. One of my favorite moments in recorded jazz history, yes! Williams, the excellent young drummer, keeps things moving forwardly nicely and swings hard, as if the world is counting on it. His solo is sweet  As for Byard's solo, leans to the past (the standards and bebop), yet contains glimpses of the "in" music. 

What I love about this period of avant-garde and post-bop explorations of the jazz idiom is music's debts to hard bop, seen in the song's debts to bebop, tonal structures with an underlying current of freedom and exploratory heights in the saxophone solo of Rivers. Much like Eric Dolphy, Rivers bridges the gap between "the new thing" between hard bop and avant garde, "progressive" jazz. Check out "Beatrice" for another great example of the brilliance of Sam Rivers. It's a ballad, showing the softer side of Rivers and the gang. Nothing short of breathtaking, particularly Byard, who at times resembles Bill Evans. Gotta love Carter on bass, too. 

Thoughts on the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg

On my last day in Johannesburg a few months ago, I figured out how to use the mini-bus/taxibuses in which seem less efficient than the ones in Cape Town. I caught one on Main Road in Melville, took it to a bus station center in or near New Town (seeing some of these neighborhoods of inner-city Jo’burg during the day is so different from night, the dilapidated buildings, etc. are much more obvious in daylight), and took another one from there to Gold Reef City, where the apartheid museum is uncomfortably near an amusement park.

But the museum was great and only R40, and impossible to cover in the little more than two hours we had before meeting up with some friends. The Apartheid Museum had an entire temporary exhibit on Nelson Mandela, where I learned much more than I ever did about his past (his Xhosa background, his living in Alexandra and Soweto, his training/combat training in other parts of Africa such as Ethiopia, his loyalty to old friends and allies, such as Qaddafi, and his time in Robben Island, which I later visited).

The permanent exhibition, much larger and full of even more information than I could handle, included the history of Johannesburg, the gold mining industry, early urban history and the development of segregation and townships, the rise of apartheid, anti-apartheid icons and movements, and the transition to democracy. Since we had to move so quickly through this final part, I missed out and skipped over reading many parts of the end of the apartheid museum. But they did have some cool stuff, including a recording of Miriam Makeba singing, videos from Mandela speaking and other pivotal moments and interviews, and a picture of Johannesburg youths in the 1950s playing kwela music on the street.

Unlike the District 8 Museum in Cape Town, the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg is very impressive, detailed, and perhaps a little excessive, since it's impossible to really take in all that it offers (video displays, several rooms/halls of pictures, text, and features such as an entrance to the museum where one is classified by race and has to enter a different path based on that classification, a tribute to Nelson Mandela and the spirit of freedom, etc.). Of course, one could and should argue that the deification of Mandela, though he's such an easy and accessible symbol of freedom to people of all races, renders invisible the much larger social movements and organizations engaged in the anti-apartheid struggle, but overall the rest of the museum thoroughly covered the general movement quite well.

That said, it's one of my favorite museum experiences for it's extensive documentation of the entirety of the apartheid period, from the early foundations of Johannesburg and white minority rule to the formal onset of apartheid in the 1940s and ending with the release of Mandela from Robben Island, the gradual dissolution of de Klerk's apartheid government, etc. Another neat aspect of some of the deeper historical displays was pictures and life stories of individuals and their descendants who played a role in the growth of Johannesburg from gold rush to the end of the 20th century.

In summation, the Apartheid Museum was my finest museum outing in South Africa. I suppose the only large flaw I saw was the absence of significant coverage of the pre-colonial period and the history of white settler colonialism gradually leading to white dominance by the late 19th century of most of what is today South Africa. If I had to rank them, it would be this one as 1st, the Hector Pieterson Museum in Soweto 2nd, and the National Gallery in Cape Town as 3rd. Unfortunately, I did not have a camera on me most of the time and one of the few photos I possess was taken by a fellow-traveller. I do not claim ownership of the above image in any way at all.

Ludovic Lamothe and Haitian Classical Music

I don't listen to much classical music, but I've been meaning to give a try to more black classical composers. I've read a little about some Haitian figures, such as Occide Jeanty, Ludovic Lamothe, Justin Elie, and Frantz Casseus (I especially love Casseus for using Haitian folk and Vodou songs, though I don't think one can always paint him as classical). Ludovic Lamothe, known to me through Largey's book on Vodou and music in Haiti as well as the recordings of Alan Lomax in Haiti in the 1930s (he recorded "Nibo" and perhaps another song or two of Lamothe's), sounds like Chopin at times whereas in other compositions, he uses Carnival and mereng influences. Apparently Lamothe was a "full-blooded negro who shows outcroppings of genius."

Here, I found an online version of "Nibo" recorded by Lamothe himself to share (it was covered by many others and was the most popular carnival song the year the US ended it's occupation of Haiti), and here is one by another group. According to Gage Averill and Largey, the elite that for the most part listened to classical music in Haiti could enjoy a Lamothe mereng because they were usually of the slower kind, meringue lente. "Nibo" is a reference to a Ghede spirit of Vodou who guides the dead to the afterlife. Perhaps part of the song's popularity spoke to the future exit of American Marines from Haiti, as in the death of American occupation and Nibo as taking away the dead?

Yet they were also popular with the masses, because Lomax recorded a rendition of the tune by a popular music band in 1936 or 1937. Martha Jean Claude sang "Nibo" as well on a Cuban release. Claude's version is quite rousing, with minor tones, lots of rhythm, back-up vocals, and hypnotic guitar and haunting sound effects.Last but not least, check out Edner Guignard's version, which sounds like a konpa period album with Cuban and American jazz influences in the band. Love those drums! 

The above video for the most part does not include anything characteristically "Haitian" or Afro-Caribbean for the most part, unfortunately. "Danse Capois  ('Scenes De Carnaval' No. 4)" does suggest a Caribbean Carnival, however, and "Danse Espagnole" does less so. "La Dangereuse" is another mereng composed by Lamothe, but unfortunately I have not found a recording by Lamothe himself. This video of an adolescent playing the mereng lente is probably a little too fast, but sounds beautiful. 

One of these days I hope to finish Largey's book and write a review for this blog. As a last recommendation, check out "Valse aux Etoiles" and "Libellule" here. The album, Fleurs d'Haiti is also worth checking out for some more of Ludovic Lamothe. 

Curtis Mayfield's Girls Are Out to Get You

Apparently Curtis Mayfield wrote "Girls Are Out to Get You," a catchy gem sung by The Fascinations. It sounds like a Curtis jam, perhaps with arrangements by Pate. The funky brief sax, pronounced drums, syncopated rhythms, and and lyrical content all shout Mayfield. Now I have to listen to more Mayfield-penned jams by The Fascinations and other groups.

"Hold On" is another instance of a Mayfield song for The Fascinations, which is soul more of the gospel and blues vein. That lead voice!! She can bring down the house (or the church)! It definitely sounds like a song from the second half of the 1960s with its funkiness though.

Michael Jackson's Black Or White

One of the best by Michael Jackson, an Afrocentric book I read several years ago dismissed it as Michael Jackson singing from his experience being both black and white. "Black or White," seemingly a pro-colorblind jam, Michael "I ain't scared of no sheets" Jackson challenges white racism and clearly uses images from a Ku Klux Klan event to express his stance. Unfortunately, the rap portion ends with "I'm not gonna spend my life being a color," which could allude to a colorblind ideal, but I still think this song is more nuanced than a simple crazy MJ forgetting he's black. 

In addition, it's perfect pop, with a perfect guitar-driven hook and some famous celebrities in the music video. The music video, however, does feature some rather stereotypical depictions of Africans hunting a lion but counteracts that with landmarks and representatives from all over the world to give a complete portrayal of humanity (though the Native Americans, Russians, Indians, etc. are all depicted in the most stereotypical ways while dancing alongside Michael). Indeed, the fact that Jackson sees race as beyond the black-white binary in the US may shows his complex understanding of race relations in the United States.

 It could also just be another way of showing a colorblind ideal world that may or may not be his vision, but it's difficult to say. Remember, MJ's racial views likely changed over time, and by the late 1990s or early 2000s, he was affiliated with the Nation of Islam in some form and owned property in Bahrain, perhaps suggestive of  a shift from Michael's "white wannabe" days to what Huey Freeman deems the "renegrofication of our most famous racial defector."

On another level, the song is clearly about interracial love, and most likely, that between a black man and a white woman. The following lyrics make that quite clear:

I Took My Baby

On A Saturday Bang

Boy Is That Girl With You

Yes We're One And The Same

So, Michael is singing in response to racists opposed to miscegenation, which would fit into the broader message of the song, not just illustrate a 'colorblind' world that surely Jackson was not foolish enough to believe. As he makes quite clear, he isn't afraid of blood or sheets, the forces of white racism. Of course, by the time this song came out, most racism is not just the terrain of fringe white supremacist groups, but structural, a factor lacking in "Black or White." Perhaps it is best to view this song as a pro-interracial love song and not extrapolate too much into the rest of society. Regardless, it's a catchy tune!

Rum and Coca Cola

I'm shocked I never realized this song is about Trinidadian prostitutes serving American soldiers...I first heard the Andrew Sisters version, but the calypso style of the original song is only present in Lord Invader's version. The Andrew Sisters probably didn't even know where Trinidad is. Gotta love that violin! Old calypso records, like much of the popular music elsewhere, tells us a lot about the history, popular culture, and worldview of the times. This song, for instance, comments on the presence of American soldiers in the Caribbean (likely during and after WWII) and their need for prostitutes being met by Trinidadian women, as well as the tale or joke of one Trinidadian man losing his wife to an American soldier! Calypsonians are like the blues singers of African America or the griots of West Africa, entertainers and singers who tell the story of their communities.

As this article explains from Slate, rum represents the Atlantic Slave Trade and the peculiar historical experiences of the Caribbean while coca cola symbolizes American empire and capitalism, which began to increasingly overtake British colonial authority in the Caribbean after the Spanish American War and various American occupations and quasi-colonial rule in Cuba, Puerto Rico, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and elsewhere. Thus, one could read Lord Invader's song as a critique of American military and economic intervention and dominance in the Caribbean, thereby fueling the growth in prostitution and unequal economic and social relations.

I must say, the last thing I ever expected was meeting a Norwegian familiar with the song who joined me in singing it. The world is a small place. A very, very small place. 

The Imagined Island: History, Identity & Utopia in Hispaniola

I recently perused The Imagined Island by Pedro L. San Miguel, and I must say i am disappointed. Perhaps I had not done enough pre-reading research and reviews of the text. It is a little too short for my pleasure, less than 150 pages (not including the notes). The text consists largely of mostly Spanish sources and interpretations of the work of Dominican and colonial writers. For some reason, I was expecting a very extensive text analyzing how Haitians and Dominicans conceive of the island and the shared history and present, but the text is mostly focused on how writers from and speaking on the 'East' constructed Dominican history and national identity.

 Fortunately, the chapter on Jean Price-Mars and his research on Haitian-Dominican relations was relevant to my interests. Moreover, understanding Price-Mars is essential to 20th century Haitian intellectual history and Caribbean thought. Indeed, his ethnology and approach to Vodou and peasant life and culture in Haiti was part of a broader ideological movement in Latin America and the Caribbean to look to the peasant and subaltern masses, to the indigenous and African, as representatives of national identity and shift from emulation of the West. 

Indeed, San Miguel does connect the dots between Price-Mars and Fernando Ortiz of Cuba, too, and I am surprised I have yet to uncover comparative studies of Price-Mars and Ortiz on Afro-Cuban spirituality and Haitian Vodou. In fact, after reading Kate Ramsey's The Spirits and the Law: Vodou and Power, I found it hard not to think of some great work done on the history of Cuban laws and attempts by the Cuban state to suppress Santeria and other Afro-Cuban practices. It would not be much of a stretch to see broader comparative studies of the Haitian and Cuban elite suppression of African-derived religion juxtaposed with the attempts to study them from the works of Ortiz and Price-Mars. 

On the question of Price-Mars and his thoughts on Haitian-Dominican relations, San Miguel's take is useful for an introduction. According to him, Price-Mars believes Haiti to be part of an epic struggle for black (and universal) freedom and Toussaint as a hero (San Miguel 74). Furthermore, Haiti and the Dominican Republic differ in degree, not kind, one way for Price-Mars to assert a common racial origin and history (77). Yet Price-Mars also refers to Haitians as "Negro" in a way that diminishes or undercuts his belief in some shared racial features in both states. He attributes to Price-Mars a perspective shared by many current scholars I have come across, that Haitian 'expansionism' in today's Dominican Republic was primarily a question of self-protection and anti-imperialism in the island (78). In addition, Haitian unification of the island under the Boyer regime is justly criticized by Price-Mars, but more so in terms of a lost opportunity to develop harmonious and positive relations (82). 

Price-Mars also commented on Haitian support for Dominican nationalists during the anti-annexationist movement, the period when General Santana sold out Dominican independence to Spain (89). I am not too familiar with this period in Dominican history, but it certainly speaks volumes to the fragility of the Dominican national construct and the critical role of more positive and mutually beneficial relationships between the neighboring states. That alone is relevant to late 19th century notions of a Caribbean federation or closer alliances between Cuba, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic. Overall, Price-Mars, interested in Haitian-Dominican relations since the 1930s, wrote a fair and relatively balanced text on the question of Hispaniola, though his views of Toussaint and the Haitian Revolution as of epic proportions and heroic deeds certainly differs from that of his Dominican counterparts, from the 19th and 20th centuries, who saw the Haitian Revolution as an abomination, Toussaint as a brigand or savage, and erased Afro-Dominican identities from the Dominican Republic. 

Naturally, I will have to read Price-Mars myself (always better to get it from the horse's mouth, right?) and discover more myself. If only San Miguel's text was more representative of Haitian intellectual thought on intra-island relations, this could have been a much more meaningful work. He could have easily tackled the work of various Haitian historians, for instance, Thomas Madiou or Beaubrun Ardouin, for some Haitian views on relations between the two countries. He also should have used additional Haitian sources where necessary, something he only did occasionally from what I can recall. As an introductory text, however, San Miguel is worth reading, though the much larger ideological and far more specific historical contours would require a significantly longer book.