The little orange tree grew

2021 ◽  
pp. 75-118

The sixth chapter likens the Haitian Revolution to a cockfight and begins to question Toussaint Louverture’s uses of power. By January 26, 1801 Toussaint has become the dominant cock, largely due to his huge political organization in the Northern provinces. A hint of reproach echoes in the discourse of narrator Grinn Prominnin because of the unacknowledged debt owed by Toussaint to the masses of formerly enslaved people who participated in the Revolution. At this point the black rebels were often insufficiently armed or were pitted against one another. Some fought for personal interests, others on more general terms; the result was a weakened position. Their advantage lay in their sheer numbers and common determination to become free. In 1793 Toussaint tapped into this energy by declaring the goal of universal freedom and liberty for Saint-Domingue, a political and tactical move that assured the former enslaved people’s loyalty to him. Once his organization solidified, he allied himself with French forces, against the Spanish and British (on whose side other rebel leaders were fighting). By 1795, Spain was defeated, and Saint-Domingue was controlled by three sectors: the new French political commissioner (Lavaud), the freedmen (Vilatte, Beauvais, and Rigaud), and Toussaint’s army. Major contradictions—economic, political, and military—divided the masses from the leaders in the latter group; often the former enslaved people were forced to work the land for the benefit of the revolutionary generals. Meanwhile, both inside and outside of Saint-Domingue, people began to distrust the paper money issued by the revolutionary state, and its value decreased. The war in the South took form, with Toussaint positioned against Rigaud. France’s third civil commissioner, Sonthonax, arrived in 1796 and was determined to crush the British and the mulatto generals’ troops. Sonthonax named Toussaint the leading general and Rigaud an outlaw. But Toussaint had Sonthonax expelled from Saint-Domingue the following year due to their several disagreements (including the fact that Sonthonax promoted Moyse Louverture to the rank of general, passing over several other leaders in Toussaint’s army). Meanwhile, in France, the political situation was becoming more conservative, and Toussaint feared that the former colonists would return to seize their property. In a dog-eat-dog society, every class has economic, political, and ideological interests; the freedmen and newly freed slaves were at odds. Toussaint subsequently repulsed Hédouville (who was sent by France as an agent of the Directory, charged with implementing reforms) and fought a vicious war in the South against Rigaud, the dominant mulatto general, thus deepening the racial divisions in the general population. Although Rigaud took a racial approach himself, Toussaint’s demagogy encouraged this social poison to pit the masses of formerly enslaved people against the mixed-race people, a problem reflecting Haiti’s hereditary ideological disease. Toussaint’s primary interests were commerce, money and the trappings of power. So intent was Toussaint on keeping Saint-Domingue afloat economically that he imposed strictures on the formerly enslaved people through a “rural work code,” forcing them to either remain on the same plantations where they had previously toiled or face severe punishment (including death). The idea of “freedom for all” thus began to lose its meaning. England and the United States began to exert pressure on Saint-Domingue as well. Before the War of the South between Toussaint and Rigaud, blacks and mixed-race people were allied against France, but afterwards each group sought its own type of Haitian independence. The beginning of the end of Toussaint’s power came about when the rebel leader fell into the Rigaud’s trap in the afè Koray [Corail Affair]; he nevertheless continued to fight for several more years. Toussaint’s leadership style moved to demagogy, and after 1799, plots mushroomed everywhere against him. The other rebel general, Jean-Jacques Dessalines, did not play upon social tensions in the same way that Toussaint did: instead of using race as a wedge issue, he allowed a group of mixed race people to join the rebel army, which raised everyone’s spirits and frightened the enemy. Toussaint’s organization was closer to the interests of the masses than Rigaud’s. With Dessalines, he convinced several maroon groups to fight against Rigaud; Dessalines won the South soon afterwards. The war of the South helped advance the larger revolution in Saint-Domingue. Once Rigaud was defeated, Toussaint was the only serious cock in the former colony. Freedom for everyone was the main interest of his organization, and he unified the country around it; Dessalines and Pétion ultimately worked together to help repulse Leclerc’s invasion of 1802. The freedmen’s advantage was blunted before they could take advantage of others. The former slaves grew stronger as a result. Despite Toussaint’s demagogy, the revolution was holding strong; though Toussaint still occupied a position of authority, there remained many contradictions in his camp.

2021 ◽  
pp. 61-74

This chapter opens with Sonthonax’s decree of 1793 that emancipated the enslaved people of Saint-Domingue. French revolutionary Léger Félicité Sonthonax brought a Civil Commission to Saint-Domingue in 1792 along with 6,000 soldiers. Their mission was to convince white landowners to form a coalition with mulatto landowners in order to crush the rebellion of enslaved people and preserve the colonial system. This delegation was fraught with contradictions as it was a microcosm of the conflict that had engulfed France: the struggle between aristocrats (the king, military leaders and Church leaders, and powerful landowners) and the bourgeoisie (businessmen and factory owners). Saint-Domingue’s social fissures were complex, with six major groups vying for power: the partisans of the new French government; the aristocrats; the freedmen, mixed race and black; the small whites; the leaders of the rebel slaves; and the masses of enslaved people. Trouillot explores the quicksand of shifting alliances and feuding rivalries during this early period of the Haitian Revolution. The white aristocrats refused to ally with the landowning and slave-holding mulatto and black freedmen. The new French government formed a coalition with the freedmen. The small whites resisted and were crushed by the new French government troops. The aristocrats turned to England and Spain for military assistance against the new French government, and these nations invaded and occupied parts of Saint-Domingue. To gain the upper hand, Sonthonax emancipated enslaved people willing to fight with the new French government in June 1793. Days afterward 10,000 French colonists fled the colony by ship. Sonthonax attempted to recruit the leaders of the rebel slaves; however, they were already fighting in the Spanish army and enjoying their freedom—some were even trafficking slaves. By emancipating the enslaved population in August of 1793, Sonthonax lost the support of the slave-owning aristocrats and freedmen, who were the principle power holders, and he was unable to recruit the leaders of the rebel slaves who saw no advantage in collaborating with an army that was losing ground. Having lost control of the traditional alliances, Sonthonax had overcorrected and found himself leaning upon those who had nothing to lose, the enslaved population.


Worldview ◽  
1983 ◽  
Vol 26 (1) ◽  
pp. 11-13
Author(s):  
Harold G. Marcus

In the Horn of Africa the stubborn politics of military regimes have caused as many as 750,000 people to seek sanctuary across international frontiers. They will remain in refugee camps until the various antagonists decide to compromise what they term “unnegotiable” national interests, the centerpiece of the tale is Ethiopia, which, until the revolution of 1974, worked to create a nation out of an empire by transforming its many peoples into a typical Christian peasantry, thereby alienating the Muslims and pastoralists of the south, east, and north. Under Haile Selassie it also brought great wealth to a tiny oligarchy while impoverishing the masses, a process spurred during the ’50s and ’60s as the country was being integrated in the world economy.


Author(s):  
Carlos Fonseca Suárez

      Like most revolutionary processes, the history of the Haitian revolution has typically been narrated from the perspective of revolutionary heroes. Whether as the feat of Toussant L’Ouverture, Francois Macandal or Jean-Jacques Dessalaines, historians have often tried to encapsulate the revolution within the narrow margins of human causality. In this article, I attempt to sketch the contours of another possible history: an ecological history in which the feats of the revolutionary heroes give way to the radical power of nature. By focusing on the role that two epidemic phenomena—yellow fever and mesmerism—had within the revolution, I attempt to show how the emergence of an “epidemiological discourse” proved to be fundamental for imagining the outbreak of modern sovereignty as it occurred in Saint-Domingue. Drawing on the ecological history of the Greater Caribbean and the routes of exchange that determined the historical development of its radical environment, the article attempts to imagine what an ecocritical history of the revolutionary process could look like. It lays out a political cartography unlike that which one usually encounters in history books, following a mosquito in its route from Africa to America and retracing the way in which a European pseudo-science—mesmerism—arrived from France to America. The epidemiological discourse surrounding both yellow fever and mesmerism reveals the emergence of a new sociological language capable of figuring the crisis of imperial modes of sovereignty as well as the emergence of new modes of radical subjectivity. Departing from the works Deleuze and Guattari, but also in dialogue with recent debates in ecocriticism, the significance of the Haitian Revolution is reconsidered in its relationship to the emergence of sociology as a language capable of explaining the emergence of the modern political subject par excellence: the modern multitude. Resumen      Como la mayoría de los procesos revolucionarios, la historia de la revolución haitiana usualmente ha sido narrada desde la perspectiva histórica de los héroes revolucionarios. Ya sea como la épica de Toussant L’Ouverture, Francois Macandal o Jean-Jacques Dessalaines, los historiadores han intentado encapsular la revolución dentro de los márgenes de la causalidad humana. En este artículo, intento esbozar los contornos de otra posible historia: una historia ecológica en la que las hazañas de los héroes revolucionarios ceden el escenario al poder radical de la naturaleza. Mediante una articulación del rol que dos fenómenos epidémicos—la fiebre amarilla y el mesmerismo—tuvieron dentro de la revolución, intento demostrar cómo la aparición de un “discurso epidemiológico” demostró ser fundamental en el proceso de crisis de soberanía imperial que ocurrió en Saint-Domingue. Investigando tanto la historia ecológica del Gran Caribe como las rutas de intercambio que determinaron la radicalización de su atmósfera política, el artículo intenta imaginar una historia ecocrítica del proceso revolucionario. A través de una cartografía de las rutas transatlánticas de circulación de un mosquito, así como del desembarco en América de una pseudociencia—el mesmerismo—el artículo esboza una historiografía política distinta. Se escudriña el discurso epidemiológico que giraba en torno tanto a la fiebre amarilla como al mesmerismo en relación con el surgimiento de un nuevo discurso sociológico capaz de representar la crisis de los modelos imperiales de soberanía y el surgimiento de nuevas subjetividades radicales. Partiendo de los trabajos de Deleuze y Guattari, pero también en conversación con los recientes debates sobre la ecocrítica, el significado de la Revolución Haitiana es reconsiderado en relación con el surgimiento de la sociología como el idioma del sujeto moderno por excelencia: la multitud.


Author(s):  
David Geggus

Set within a larger analysis of class relations in the Haitian Revolution, this is a microhistory that intersects with several important themes in the revolution: rumor, atrocity, the arming of slaves, race relations, and the origins and wealth of the free colored population. It is an empirical investigation of an obscure rebellion by free men of color in the Grande Anse region in 1791. Although the rebellion is obscure, it is associated with an atrocity story that has long resonated in discussion of the revolution. Formerly the least-known segment of Caribbean society, research has shed much new light on free people of color in recent decades, but much remains to be clarified. In certain ways, they are the key to understanding the Haitian Revolution, because of their anomalous position in Saint Domingue society and the way their activism precipitated its unraveling. The Grande Anse region had a unique experience of the revolution in that white supremacy and slavery were maintained there longer than in any other part of the colony. Based primarily on unexploited or little-known sources the article demonstrates the range and depth of research that remains possible and suggests that a regional focus is best way to advance current scholarship on the Haitian Revolution.


2021 ◽  
Vol 44 (1) ◽  
pp. 59-84
Author(s):  
Jeremy D. Popkin

Abstract The establishment of the independent nation of Haiti in 1804 was made possible by the collapse of imperial authority early in the French Revolution. Events in the colony's capital, Port-au-Prince, had much to do with that collapse. Between the fall of 1789, when news of the storming of the Bastille reached Saint-Domingue, and the spring of 1793, when French revolutionary authorities recognized that their only hope of maintaining control of the colony was to ally themselves with its black and mixed-race populations against the remaining whites, Port-au-Prince was the most troubled of the island's urban centers and one of the most unstable sites in France's transatlantic empire. Understanding how Port-au-Prince went from a center of colonial authority to a locus of disorder where fatal wounds were inflicted on the colonial order is crucial to any explanation of the background to the Haitian Revolution. L'établissement de la nation indépendante d'Haïti en 1804 fut rendu possible par la faillite de l'autorité impériale pendant les premières années de la Révolution française. Les événements dans la capitale coloniale de Port-au-Prince ont joué un grand rôle en précipitant cette faillite. Entre l'automne de 1789, quand la nouvelle de la prise de la Bastille est arrivée à Saint-Domingue, et le printemps de 1793, quand les autorités révolutionnaires dans la colonie ont reconnu que leur seul espoir de la maintenir sous leur contrôle fut de s'allier avec les populations noires et de couleur contre les blancs, Port-au-Prince fut la ville la plus troublée de Saint-Domingue et l'un des sites les plus perturbés de tout l'Empire français. Une compréhension du processus qui a fait d'un centre d'autorité dans la colonie un foyer de désordre où des coups fatals furent portés contre l'ordre impérial est cruciale pour expliquer le succès de la Révolution haïtienne.


2021 ◽  
pp. 119-170

This final chapter opens with Toussaint Louverture in Santo Domingo in 1802, preoccupied with the possibility of a new French invasion. In February, General Leclerc invaded Cape Haitian in the north; Toussaint was captured by French troops and taken to France as prisoner. Although his demise occurred for various reasons, most problematic are the tactics he embraced during the period of 1793-1799, wherein he neglected the interests of the former enslaved people and instead allied himself with the upper class and military interests. The rallying cry of “freedom for all” for the population of the former French colony did not imply that formerly enslaved masses could enjoy autonomy or freely cultivate edible crops on their own properties. While not all rebel leaders fit into the same social category, they did have different interests than the former slaves. Trouillot reminds readers that a true revolution produces profound social changes, inverting the old social order; and thus formerly-enslaved people should have all become property owners. However, the competing revolutionary leaders (including Rigaud, Beauvais, and Toussaint) stunted this possibility, neglecting the needs of the poor majority. It was chiefly the economic aspect of independence that divided Toussaint from the masses. After taking control of the former colony, Toussaint imposed import and export taxes that benefited European countries and the United States instead of Haitians; U.S.-built warehouses popped up on the capital’s wharf, and Saint-Domingue remained economically dependent. The former slaves benefited in no way from growing the sugar, coffee or cotton that they were required to produce during Toussaint’s reign; they were punished for planting food crops. Worse still, Toussaint required that the ex-slaves “respect” the integrity of former plantations by staying and working on them, while he distributed free land to rebel officers. The idea of “freedom” thus lost its resonance amongst the masses. Although members of the State of Saint-Domingue and the ruling class gained economically, it was at the expense of the former enslaved workers. From this point, the behavior of the Haitian State was that of sitting heavily upon the new nation, since their economic and political interests were at odds with one another. A host of contradictions emerged: Dependence/ Independence, Plantations/Small Farms, Commodity/Food crops, White/Black, Mulatto/Black, Mulatto/White, Catholic/Vodou, and French/Creole. Although the Constitution of 1801 abolished slavery and supposedly “guaranteed freedom” to all, it reinforced these fundamental contradictions. The “Moyse Affair” in late 1801 illustrates Trouillot’s understanding of Toussaint’s betrayal of the Haitian people. Moyse, Toussaint’s adopted nephew, had populist political ideas that attracted the black masses. Fearing his potentially subversive ambitions, Toussaint had Moyse judged by a military commission that included Christophe, Vernet, and Pageaux. Moyse was condemned to death and executed, effectively crushing the interests of the masses. Throughout the Revolution Toussaint maintained power by crafting coalitions amongst a wide variety of social classes and competing interests. The dominance of the new military class was a social contradiction that had to be masked, and Toussaint’s actions showed a will to conceal it. Aspects of this problematic behavior and ideology have reappeared in Haiti under Dessalines, Christophe, Salomon, Estimé, Duvalier and others. Official discourse is grounded in several central notions that are easily manipulated by Haitian leaders: first, the notion of “family,” allowing the concealed dominance of one group and the privileging the organized Catholic religion; second, the idea that Haitians should “respect property”; and, the myth of nèg kapab (“capable people”) who possess an inherent right to govern and oppress the people. The political concept of “family,” common throughout Africa and countries with African descendants, was employed by Toussaint as a form of social control: throughout the revolution Toussaint refers to the new Haitian society as a family in order to advance his own “paternal” political objectives and conceal its many contradictions. The state—which his ideology came to epitomize—began to take advantage of the people; it was akin to a vèvè, a matrix holding society together, and a Gordian knot, where complex and twisted socio-economic contradictions favoring a certain class were inscribed. Although Toussaint was kidnapped by the invasion of Leclerc in 1802, this motivated the Haitian masses to stand up and fight for independence from France, which ultimately led to freedom. Thus, living up to the surname of “Louverture” that was given him, Toussaint indeed opened the barrier to independence and warrants appreciation for that. When one revisits the ideology of Toussaint Louverture, and concurrently that of the state of Saint-Domingue, one must not forget that, in spite of all its weaknesses, libèté jénéral (“freedom for all”, or “universal freedom” in today’s terms) was originally a powerful unifying factor, which merits recognition: it helped Toussaint’s troops defeat the British, crush Hédouville, etc. Toussaint was betrayed by plantation owners and French and American commissioners alike, and he always maintained some faith in France, even if the masses did not. Trouillot implies that Toussaint understood the direction in which he wanted to go, but he got lost on the way. To his credit, Toussaint’s experience demonstrated that liberty without political independence was a senseless notion, and others (such as Dessalines) were able to break with his approach and capitalize on this lesson. The book closes with Grinn Prominnin declaring that he is exhausted and that everyone must return to discuss the situation tomorrow to reach a conclusion. The scene remains peaceful, the people complacent. Trouillot suggests that, more than 170 years after the revolution, the task of bringing about real social change in Haiti—and seeing the ambitions of the Revolution fulfilled—remains starkly inert. Readers easily infer that Haiti’s stagnant socio-economic and political situation (in 1977) is due not only to the as yet unfulfilled promises of the Revolution and War for Independence, but also to the escalating damages wreaked upon the Haitian nation by the Duvalier regime and its manipulative cronyism coupled with its totalitarian indigenist ideology.


2021 ◽  
pp. 39-60

This chapter explains how the ceremony at Bwa Kayiman—the Vodou ceremony of August 22, 1791, that set the Haitian revolution into motion—was able to come about. The ruling class of powerful landowners and French commissioners was theoretically unified; the class of free people—whether white, mixed race or black—was supposed to be in their fold so that their profiteering would churn on undisturbed. The revolution exploded when the ruling class could no longer balance competing interests and when the lower classes refused to participate in the conspiracy any longer. Trouillot traces the roots of discontent in Saint-Domingue to the class struggles between the French aristocracy, bourgeoisie and workers in eighteenth century enlightenment France. He also sheds light on the reverberations that French class conflicts had in Saint-Domingue. In the late 1780s, the local landowners began clamoring for free market control over where their products could be sold. France had exclusive purchasing privileges over the colony’s output. By 1790, this major rift emerged between French commissioners and the local landowners. At the same time, a deep rupture appeared between whites and free people of mixed race when racist whites rejected Ogé and Chavannes’s demands of greater equality for mixed race people. Instead of cultivating their coalition with mixed race people, the ruling class sent 1,500 white soldiers and 3,000 black recruits to crush the movement of the people of mixed race. The ruling class’s traditional coalition was severed in various places. The leaders of the enslaved population saw the power they had when properly armed; they detected the conflict among the whites and the whites versus mixed race people; and they received and transmitted the exciting news of equality proclaimed by the rising French revolutionaries. Underneath this political quicksand, the enslaved population had established the cornerstones of an indigenous culture: farming, Vodou religion and the Creole language. The small plots that enslaved people were encouraged to cultivate for food and the small income they generated created a passion for agrarian independence. Vodou gave enslaved people the conviction they needed to fight, as well as a means of organization and cultural preservation. The Creole language provided a foundation for a common culture. The chapter closes with an analysis of the maroon culture of runaways and rebels and why it was unable to secure widespread independence. Finally, it introduces the geographic and demographic realities that favored an uprising in the northern plains of Haiti.


Author(s):  
Johnhenry Gonzalez

This chapter focuses on the Haitian Revolution and its brief moment of impact in France’s National Assembly. During the early portions of the Revolution, Haitian revolutionaries – former slaves – asserted their claims to the ‘rights of man’ in strong and direct ways, following up on their successful military action with petitions to the new government in France. For a moment in the midst of the two revolutions, the idea of the ‘rights of man’ reached across boundaries of race and geography, as the National Assembly voted to end slavery in Haiti and other colonies. These thin trans-Atlantic bonds did not last long, however, as the rights of man were overridden by racism, violence and, finally, the resumption of slavery. The flow of ideas back to the metropole was thus profoundly incomplete. The chapter illustrates, moreover, the dangers in interpreting the Haitian Revolution too strongly through these French terminologies. The Haitian revolutionaries who adopted the language of the rights of man were themselves few in number and unrepresentative. A far larger portion of the Haitian population identified much more strongly with a different kind of universal practice, one lacking its own theoretical canon: the process of marronage, of running away from enslaving and domineering social structures to live on their own terms in any way possible.


2020 ◽  
Vol 3 (2) ◽  
pp. 196-207
Author(s):  
Febry Triantama ◽  
Yoga Pangestu

The Singapore government since 2000 has stated their goals to have a strong and capable Singapore Armed Forces (SAF). The urgency of having a strong and capable SAF cannot be separated from the multidimensional threats that Singapore has to deal with. China's growing military capability coupled with increased aggressiveness in the South China Sea and relations with two conflicting neighbors are examples of traditional threats facing Singapore. Non-traditional threats, especially terrorism, also haunt Singapore. This article argues that the Revolution in Military Affairs implemented by Singapore is the mitigation of such strategic disadvantage. Through the implementation of the Revolution in Military Affairs which was marked by the acquisition of advanced weaponry technology and followed by changes in military doctrine and organizational adaptation, the SAF has already been transformed into a powerful military in the region.


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