Whose Colonial Nostalgia? Reminders from Jeetny and Her Daughters

Abstract

In this hybrid piece of life writing/criticism, ideas of colonial nostalgia, as marketed by the tourism industry in Mauritius, are prodded to open up conversations around the surviving stories of coolies among their descendants. Unearthing the networks of friendship that coolie-women formed in the colonies, through which large slices of the story of the making of modern Mauritius can be glimpsed, this article seeks not to produce a clear narrative or pronounce on the morality of indenture. Instead, it seeks to bring to light the bonds of sisterhood among coolie-women that have been elemental in the shaping of Mauritius, and explore how these networks were passed down as models for daughters to inherit and build upon.

Keywords:

• indenture
• Mauritius
• coolie
• colonialism
• nostalgia

Notes

1 ‘Coolie’ is a contested term that has acquired pejorative implications in several parts of the world. Many people (including in Mauritius) object to its usage because of its current derogatory associations, preferring terms such as girmitya, those who entered into an ‘agreement’ — hence indentured labourers, instead. However, following Khal Torabully who has revitalised it, I insist on using the term because of its historic specificity which has enabled artists and critics of subsequent generations to interpret the experiences of indentured through the concept of ‘coolitude’, which, to quote Carter and Torabully, ‘is designed … to describe and encapsulate the distinctive characteristics of the streams of indentured migration which have decisively shaped modern nations such as Mauritius, Trinidad, Guyana, Fiji and influenced others like Guadeloupe, Martinique, East and South Africa’ (1).

I also do not want to suggest that slavery and indenture were one and the same. Indenture, despite its many hardships, was not (necessarily) forced labour, in the way that slavery was. Coolies were, by definition, free agricultural labourers working under long-term contracts, whereas slaves were bereft of any rights. By pooling the two together, I am merely drawing a structural parallel between the labours that slaves and coolies performed on plantations, and indeed, which many former slaves continued to do as apprentices, post-emancipation.

2 This is not to say that all Mauritians with South Asian ethnicity are necessarily descendants of coolies. As Addison and Hazareesingh have pointed out, ‘There were Indians in Mauritius long before the immigration of indentured labourers began in the 1830s. [French Governor, Mahe de] Labourdonnais had encouraged Indians with skills and trades to come to the island when he was laying the foundations for its future between 1735 and 1746. In the second half of the eighteenth century, Indians were to be found amongst the slaves working in agriculture and as domestic servants’ (55). And even with regards to immigrants who arrived within the framework of the indenture system, along with the known figure of the sirdar (foreman, or recruiter), a substantial number of them also came as ‘free passengers’ to work on the island as priests, barbers, dhobis (washermen), ayahs (nannies), etc. The latter often accompanied ‘returning coolies’ who had travelled to India for a short while, and were now heading back to Mauritius for another period of contract. Carter refers to them as ‘returnees’ (Servants).

3 For full disclosure, I did end up getting married on a sugar estate, but it was a state-managed estate, acquired by the government from its previous owners in the post-independence era.

4 Daadi was not a direct descendant of Jeetny. I am not using ‘daughter’ in its literal sense.

5 Carter explains how women were paid even less than male-coolies: ‘If capitalism has been shown to be notoriously averse to the equal competition of women in the workplace, migration could force women into even more marginal roles. … It was in the employer’s interest to keep women at the margins of estate life, only partially supported by them when specialized work was available’ (Lakshmi’s Legacy 121).

6 The most reflective example of this hybridisation carried out through the network of Dids is the story of Dee Baba. Dee Baba is a protective figure to whom Hindu women entrust the beginning of their harvest. He is thought to be the spirit of a deceased black man, who is thanked with offerings of rum and meat. Dee Baba takes birth as an amalgamation of different belief systems.