Please read part one here first: Censoring Speech
African drum from Haiti, then Santo-Domingo
Photo credit: BBC Museum
While not the first head of state to politicize Haitian carnival, President Michel Martelly made history with his deliberate attack on civil liberties last February, forbidding Port-au-Prince residents to peacefully assemble and organize their carnival — a decision that not only infuriated citizens, but also a civil society that prized free speech as Haiti’s most important democratic acquisition over the last 27 years. Martelly imposed Haiti’s greatest act of censure since Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier’s epic fall from power in February 1986, according to revered Journalist and editorialist Dany Valet.
Denouncing the hypocrisy…
Following the president’s open admission to personally targeting particular bands that were critical to his administration, many think tanks flooded Haiti’s airways with warnings about a reemerging authoritarianism, urging preventive measures. However, Martelly’s censorship controversy did more that just rattle Haiti’s democratic fringe; it also revived an old dusty free-speech debate that usually surfaced when officials tried silencing critics, which set the president on a collision course with a historical phenomenon: Haiti’s notorious Song of Resistance.
Antonio Cheramy, stage-named ‘Don Kato’
“As young artists,” said Antonio Cheramy, stage-named “Don Kato,” who heads excluded band Brothers Posse; “We learned how to do this from watching him denounce government after government.” Kato paraded media outlets to galvanize support for his popular meringue that stung the Martelly/Lamothe administration. “It makes no sense that as an artist I can’t sing about the environment I am living in,” protested Kato to the Miami Herald. “And you want to sanction me because I’m not singing in favor of you,” he added, denouncing the president’s hypocritical stance.
Echoing the singer’s sentiments, some critics questioned the constitutionality of Martelly’s decision. “Prohibiting the most popular meringue from taking part in the carnival parade, while, not too long ago,” said Haitian activist Patrick Elie on Ranmasse, Haiti’s most popular radio talk show, “Ribald and obscene remarks marked the one who now believes himself to be more morally and legally apt to decide who should participate,” he added. Like other participants of Radio Caraibes’ weekly live show, Elie said he could not comprehend Martelly’s totalitarian temptations, as an apprentice dictator.
Carnival musicians
If Martelly’s censorship controversy revealed the symbiotic relationship there exists between music and resistance, Haitian scholar Patrick Sylvain unveiled their ubiquitous relationship. He branded the phenomenon ‘a cultural ethos based upon human reality’. “In Haiti,” wrote Sylvain in his article “In Haiti, Rhythm Rests in our Marrow.” “Music and dance are ubiquitous. Emotions are routinely expressed through musical outpourings, as if rhythm rests in our Marrow; and it very well may,” stressed the poet, writing for PBS’s Art Beat. Sylvain cautioned readers against underestimating the seemingly counterintuitive nature of Haitian music. “I learned early on,” penned the poet, “That even the most superficial of songs often draws from the theme of resistance, a central tenet of Vodoun (Voodoo) and a quintessential premise of the Haitian existence.” Nevertheless, creative coding of popular discontent predated Sylvain’s clever nuances; historians unearthed its deep roots in Europe’s 15-century transatlantic slave trade.
Commercial float in Cap-Haitien’s 2012 national carnival
Carved out of dehumanizing slavery and the unbreakable will to live freely, political music evolved into one of the most powerful weapons of the Haitian Revolution. Bristol’s City Council Museum (BCC Museum), which houses the city’s extensive slave trade collection, recalled how the African drum terrified slaves owners. They even banned drumming, hoping to rid enslaved Africans of their languages, cultures, music, and religious beliefs and keep a lid on rebellious uprisings. “Such activity was seen as a threat by owners,” reported PortCities Bristol in “Slave Resistance at Work.” “They knew that if slaves developed a common sense of identity,” continued the article, “They would be more likely to join together and rebel against their owners.”
Located on South West England’s River Avon, Bristol maintained a century-long monopoly in the lucrative triangular slave trade, shipping around 500,000 Africans, one-fifth of the human trafficking business, across the Atlantic to the plantations, as both BBC News and The Independent reported. Once at their final destinations however, slaves rebelled in many ways, including music and stories; hence, implanted political resistance genes in their contemporaries’ DNA.
Multidimensional faces of Resistance…
First Family posing with the carnival king and queen
Generations after generations, Haitians embraced the cultural phenomenon that evolved in leaps and bounces, subtly infiltrated the nation’s psyche, raising the level of consciousness surrounding its persisting social-political degradation. It was there during 1804’s Independence war, bolstering bravery, as former slaves sang “Grenadye a laso, sa ki mouri zafe a yo,” (Charge grenadiers, too bad for the fallen), marching to battle. Later, Political music perturbed the 19-year American occupation, when late writer and diplomat Jean Price-Mars called for a national Haitian music. Peter Manuel, a revered writer and Caribbean music expert, wrote, “There were musical responses to Price-Mars’ call for a national Haiti music,” crediting the writer for inspiring a movement that challenged American ruling. “Composers like Justin Elie, Ludovic Lamothe, and Wesner Jeagerhuber wrote orchestral and chamber music, utilizing either voodoo melodies or tunes inspired by Haitian religious rituals,” added Manuel.
Still, toward the end of the 20th century, resistance music experienced another important evolutionary bounce, embodying the anti-Duvalier struggle that led to Baby Doc’s exile. That era also ushered in a slew of great musicians, including iconic songwriter/singer Manno Charlemagne who championed social political music. Using a smoke analogy, Charlemagne emphasized its role in Haitian life. “The smoke is the guy who oppresses the people in Haiti,” said the former Port-au-Prince Mayor in this 1995 interview. “But if I smoke,” he added, “When you open your window, you wont have a problem. The smoke leaves and you stay.”
Today, targeted bands, such as, Richard Morse’s RAM, Theodore “Lolo” Beaubrun’s Boukman Experience, and Kato’s Brothers Posse, among many important others, constitute the contemporary face of musical resistance. It is, according to Kato, a call to duty, rather than personal attacks on President Martelly. “We are not into politics,” he said. “But we cannot sit quiet and not express the suffering our brothers and sisters are living in.” According to him, the bands only channel the nation’s concerns. “What I am singing is what the people are saying. They are not lies,” stressed the popular singer in the Miami Herald interview. “So if he thinks I am against him, then the whole population is against him.”
Expect part three soon…
