tag:theconversation.com,2011:/us/topics/west-indies-13784/articlesWest Indies – The Conversation2023-06-02T15:53:37Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2064552023-06-02T15:53:37Z2023-06-02T15:53:37ZVoices of Preston’s Windrush generation – when I first arrived, I said: ‘Really? I thought there were no slums in this place!’<p>From the earliest arrivals of what would become Preston’s “<a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-43782241">Windrush generation</a>”, the status of the Caribbean diaspora was hotly contested in this post-industrial Lancashire town, as elsewhere. Discrimination and prejudice dogged the daily lives of people from the Caribbean who made their home here.</p>
<p>In 1955, the pages of the Lancashire Evening Post hosted intense debates about whether a “colour bar” existed in the town. And segregation still endured two decades later, when the national Race Relations Board <a href="https://vlex.co.uk/vid/race-relations-board-v-792867473">challenged discrimination</a> at Preston Dockers’ Labour Club, where black people were being denied service. Because of its status as a private premises, the club won the case in 1975. <a href="https://api.parliament.uk/historic-hansard/lords/1975/feb/03/race-relations-bill-hl">New legislation</a> would be required to overturn such discrimination.</p>
<p>Amid this febrile atmosphere, Preston’s growing Caribbean community organised independently, forming social networks through church congregations, sports teams and, latterly, community institutions.</p>
<p>Yet today, many of these inspiring stories of community strength and individual endeavour remain little acknowledged. As Clinton Smith, chair of the <a href="https://www.prestonblackhistorygroup.org.uk/">Preston Black History Group</a>, put it:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>A great deal has been written about Windrush – but much of the information was southern-based and related to large conurbations.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Seeking to address this “big city bias” regarding the Windrush story as it approached the <a href="https://www.windrush75.org/">75th anniversary</a>, members of the group – together with the Institute for Black Atlantic Research at the University of Central Lancashire – interviewed and photographed 11 proud black Prestonians in depth about their experiences as migrants arriving and putting down deep roots in this provincial town.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/528239/original/file-20230525-19-6vicuz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/528239/original/file-20230525-19-6vicuz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/528239/original/file-20230525-19-6vicuz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/528239/original/file-20230525-19-6vicuz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/528239/original/file-20230525-19-6vicuz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/528239/original/file-20230525-19-6vicuz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/528239/original/file-20230525-19-6vicuz.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<p><em>This article is part of our <a href="https://theconversation.com/topics/windrush-75-139220?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=Windrush75&utm_content=InArticleTop">Windrush 75 series</a>, which marks the 75th anniversary of the HMT Empire Windrush arriving in Britain. The stories in this series explore the history and impact of the hundreds of passengers who disembarked to help rebuild after the second world war.</em></p>
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<p>Their recollections – collected in the ebook <a href="https://www.prestonblackhistorygroup.org.uk/england-is-my-home-windrush-lives-in-lancashire/">England is My Home: Windrush Lives in Lancashire</a> and extracted here – offer a fascinating insight into the fears and hopes, the triumphs and ongoing challenges that Preston’s Caribbean community has experienced over the past 75 years.</p>
<p>At the heart of these memories are vital communal spaces such as the Jalgos club – founded in a house on London Road in 1962 by Jamaicans unified by a love of cricket – and the Caribbean Club, which opened in Kent Street a decade later and proved particularly popular with the Dominican community. In 1974, Preston’s island communities united to stage the town’s first Caribbean Carnival, a tradition that continues today.</p>
<p>Church, carnival and cricket: the three pillars of this vibrant local community – built in Preston by proud members of its Windrush generation.</p>
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<h2>Sylius Toussaint</h2>
<p>I remember my paternal grandma had two posters in her house that my cousin had put on the wall. One said: “Belfast, the city without a slum.” Pure government propaganda. And the other was a scene of apprentices working in a factory, and it said: “Britain today is the land of opportunity for youth.” I will never ever forget that. I wish I still had that poster.</p>
<p>My aunt said to me: “Sylius, why don’t you go to England? You could work, study and whatever it is.” So I paid my passage and came – and here I’ve been for the last 60-plus years.</p>
<p>I left Dominica on May 29 and arrived in Barbados the following day. But while we were there, we discovered the boat to England was overbooked. So we were sent on an aircraft from Barbados to Bermuda, Bermuda to Newfoundland, then Newfoundland to Ireland.</p>
<p>My first impression was of cottages and things in rural Ireland, and I said: “This looks poor.” When you are in the Caribbean, you hear of England, you hear of Ireland and Europe, and you think it is affluent and rich. But then when you see this – really? That was the first surprise I had.</p>
<p>And when I finally landed in Preston, with its silly little two-up and two-down houses, I said: “Really? I thought there were no slums in this place! Two-up two-downs, outside toilet in the middle of winter …” And every house was smoking. “What’s this smoke?” </p>
<p>Preston has changed, wow. There were so many slums back then. And I thought winter [in England] was cold but sunny – but when a whole week went by and I never saw the sun, I said: “What have I come to?”</p>
<p>So, why am I happy for coming here? Because I’ve been able to help others. Initially it was my mum and other siblings. I arrived and within almost a year, I sent for [my wife] Bridgette and, before long, her brother and my sister. My sister lives down in London with her children … and some (not all) of them say:</p>
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<p>Uncle Sylius, that’s the best thing you’ve done, sent for my mum, because I’m glad I’m here in England and life is so much better than if it was in the Caribbean.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Economically, England is a big boy whereas Dominica is still a child. So most of what I do [to help] is out there. And I say thank God I’ve been able to come here, and that me coming here has been of benefit to so many people.</p>
<p>If you ask me what are the industries in Preston, I don’t know. But the place seems to be getting on quite well. What surprises me is how the university has just expanded. From being an industrial town, we’ve become a university town now. </p>
<p>The two-by-twos have gone, and there aren’t any slums in Preston now. Of course, there are houses that may be neglected, but you watch the news and see the kind of housing that people have to live in in London and so on. We are not bad in Preston.</p>
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<h2>Joanett Hue</h2>
<p>When I reached Preston, it was night. I had been driving from London and I saw all these houses and said to myself: “These look like a certain part of the ghetto in Jamaica – the area I don’t go in.” Honestly, I couldn’t believe it. Looking at the houses, I said: “My god, it’s no different.”</p>
<p>At that time, we lived in Avenham [in central Preston], the flats. When I went in there, [my husband] Joe said: “This is where I’m living – this is the kitchen, this is the bathroom.”</p>
<p>I couldn’t believe it. The house I was coming from [in Jamaica] was a seven-bedroom house, five bathrooms. Honestly, when my husband said this is where we would be living … I went into the bathroom and I cried, I cried. I said: “Why did I leave my house to come here?”</p>
<p>When I woke up in the morning, there were hailstones, it was raining. I couldn’t take it anymore. But then I just said to myself: “Well, I have my husband and when you come to Rome, you do as the Romans do.”</p>
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<h2>Vincent Skerritt</h2>
<p>When I came to Preston, I was out of work for about three or four weeks, and I lived in Ribbleton Lane with a friend I got to know when I came here. Then I got a job at Leyland Motors.</p>
<p>Black people couldn’t get certain jobs. They couldn’t join the union and often it was much more physical work, like in the foundry, knocking iron and the engine blocks and the rest of it. I worked there for about ten months. It was purely nights, and I couldn’t handle the night work. Sometimes you would get up and wouldn’t know what day it was.</p>
<p>There used to be Teddy Boys here in Preston when I first arrived. Fortunately, I never experienced or got involved with them.</p>
<p>But there used to be a strategy with us. We would come to the Red Lion pub and drink the ale, but we also used to buy a bottle of Guinness and have a newspaper, and wrap it up nicely in it. So you walk in with a bottle knowing that if you’re attacked, you have something to defend yourself.</p>
<p>Some people used to have a little piece of iron metal, wrapped up nicely in a newspaper and you carry it under your arm. Fortunately, I never had to use it.</p>
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<h2>Glyne Greenidge</h2>
<p>I got to 17 and had to find work [in Preston]. My mum’s husband wasn’t a very nice man, and my mum suffered all the way. I’m the oldest of seven children, so my stepdad kind of forced me out to work as soon as he could.</p>
<p>It was mainly in the cotton mills – that was the main work going in those days. The money wasn’t good but the work was plentiful. You could walk the streets and see little firms here or there. You could go in and ask them if there were any jobs going.</p>
<p>I worked nights, mainly. And I met one of my best friends, an English lad called Kevin. He’s died now. He became my best friend. We went out to get a drink, and we were similar ages – maybe he was like a year older than me. That’s where I started getting some racist remarks, and it upset me. And my mate Kevin sat me down and said: “Don’t let that worry you. If you let that worry you, you’re going to have a hard life. Ignore it.”</p>
<p>He was my mentor, you could say. Maybe he didn’t realise it. We’d become such good friends that we used to sleep at each other’s houses. He would come to my mum’s house, and we would stay there. We worked nights together and we would have dinner with my mum and whatever. And I would stay sometimes at his mum’s house and sleep. His dad had died so it was just him and his mum.</p>
<p>We built up that relationship, you know? And that was fantastic. Best friend I ever had. They were Irish people, you see. He didn’t look down on anybody. He saw people as people. So he never used any racist remarks. In fact, he would defend me and help me out at times if I felt low and depressed.</p>
<p>Later, I was working with this fellow, he was a fitter. He came from the docks because Aerospace was taking on a lot of people at the time, and a lot came from the docks when they were shedding labour. And me and him got on okay – in fact, we were good friends.</p>
<p>But one day we were having a debate or discussion and this racism came up. I can’t remember now word for word, but I said to Frank: “But you aren’t a racist then, are you?” And he said: “Yes, I am.”</p>
<p>I was a bit taken aback about that. But then again, I never let that spoil our relationship because we were friends, you know.</p>
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<h2>Gladstone Afflick</h2>
<p>Preston is home – I’ve lived here since 1960. I left Jamaica on the July 28th and arrived in Preston on the 30th – a Sunday. To be honest, I’ve never, never thought of going anywhere else.</p>
<p>To me, Preston has come a heck of a long way since the sixties. Things have changed that much. As I said to one young guy in our Jalgos club only about a fortnight ago; he was shouting his mouth off and I said to him: “Don’t come in here and try to tell us what to do. You should be thinking how you are going to thank us for making it possible for you to walk and enter buildings in Preston [without fear of violence or abuse].”</p>
<p>There was about five pubs along Friargate, before the ring road. All them pubs along there, no black guys could go in them. One was called the Waterloo – that used to be the National Front headquarters. You could get into a fight seven days a week if you wanted, just by walking into town.</p>
<p>I’ve always done what I can for my community since I arrived in this country. For instance, we have the Jalgos Sports & Social Club – I was the person who dragged 11 fellows together to form a cricket team. And I dragged 11 guys together to found a football team, too.</p>
<p>When we started the football team, you’d be running and [opponents] would say: “Give the ball to the monkey because they don’t know what to do with it.” Those were statements made every Saturday. </p>
<p>But then, when they realised we were beating them, they stopped talking. You get the meaning? We were playing while they were talking, and they started trying to play but they couldn’t beat us. So in the long run … what did I call it? To overcome adversity. Yeah. We overcome it that way, by not arguing.</p>
<p>Jalgos is a community-based organisation – I am the chair of the club now. I say to people over and over, Jalgos is not only nationally known – we are internationally known. People in Jamaica know more about Jalgos than people in Preston.</p>
<p>I tried to unify, if that’s the correct word, the community. I said to them, irrespective of where you are from, first and foremost you are a West Indian. You can’t run away from that. You are a West Indian. Which island you come from is secondary. And if we think that way, I think we will achieve together what is desired by all.</p>
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<h2>Cherry McDonald</h2>
<p>Sometimes I wonder, if I didn’t travel to England, what would my life be in Jamaica? Strangely, I always refer to Jamaica as home. I mean, I’ve been living here all these years but Jamaica is home. I don’t want to be disrespectful, but Jamaica is home.</p>
<p>I’ve got a good life here, though. Whatever I’ve achieved in life, I’ve achieved here in Britain. And I enjoy my life – me and my television. And if there’s something happening at Jalgos and they need my assistance, I come and help.</p>
<p>I’m ticking along nicely. I go for long walks, tend to the pots, go to church on Sunday in Longton, and read my bible at home.</p>
<p>However, I think Jalgos started going down when they banned smoking indoors. If I was a smoker, I would not be going outside to smoke a cigarette – in winter, anyway. The younger ones want to smoke there, and they don’t want anybody saying: “You can’t do that in here.”</p>
<p>It’s a shame really with this club, because we’ve had many, many happy occasions downstairs, before upstairs was made. Down here we used to have a jolly, jolly good time. My parents used to visit here and we’d have a wonderful time. My first daughter was married down here.</p>
<p>It is a shame when I look at this building now. The younger ones are not following in our footsteps. So that’s the beginning and the end of it.</p>
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<h2>Bridgette Toussaint</h2>
<p>I didn’t want to go anywhere else but Preston. But sometimes, you have to know how to speak to the people here. When I speak nicely to them, they understand that this is a lady, she will respect me.</p>
<p>For example, in one job I did, a woman said to me: “Bridgette, I don’t understand, why did you leave your nice place and come here? Why do you have to come to steal our jobs?”</p>
<p>I said: “Steal your jobs? Because you’re lazy, that’s why they send for we black people to come to help to work. Because you’re lazy!”</p>
<p>Then she said: “Why don’t you go and dance with the monkeys in the zoo?”</p>
<p>And I said: “What? Where I come from, we’ve got cows, horses, donkeys, dogs – and snakes which are bad. So don’t you speak to me like that. If you are a white monkey, then go. There’s white monkeys – you can jump with them.”</p>
<p>Oh boy. Everybody said: “How dare she speak to you like that?” They were all for me and everybody was laughing at her, because she find herself to be stupid. I got up and said: “You can give but you cannot take, can you?”</p>
<p>But then she became my friend. That’s it. All you have to do is just calm down. She ended up being my best friend! Giving me a lot of things. I don’t really need it, but she was nice after.</p>
<p>Preston is not bad now. Not too good, but not bad. Where we are, we are happy. I would not go and retire to Dominica. I’ve got no reason.</p>
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<h2>David Coke</h2>
<p>I’ve been back to Jamaica 11 times, and I’ve never had a bad experience. But I won’t go back to live there, because I have become so acquainted with the lifestyle I have in England.</p>
<p>I came here at 12 years of age, and got married at 22. But even before I married, I’d always said to my wife that I wouldn’t go back to Jamaica. And I said to my daddy more than once, and I said it to mum too – I thank God they had the vision to take us from Jamaica to here.</p>
<p>I’ve had an excellent experience in Preston. Anywhere I go in the world, I’m always wanting to come back to Preston.</p>
<p>I like the discipline in this country. I like its organisation. And I’ve heard my father say the same thing as well: there’s no better country than England. Yes, America may be more modern and faster, and you can progress in life there much quicker than you can in England. It’s true: I’ve been there and I’ve seen the accomplishment over a short period of time.</p>
<p>But I like the discipline here. I love the organisation. I know if I’ve got an appointment at eight o’clock, it’s eight o’clock – not ten minutes past eight as it is in Jamaica. It’s not perfect here and there’s a lot of terrible things happening in government. But as bad as it is, it’s better than where I come from.</p>
<p>Yes the sunshine in Jamaica is lovely, the food is lovely, you can get up in the night and walk naked in your house and you’re not shivering. It’s comfortable – in fact, too hot. I love that when I go back there.</p>
<p>But for me, Britain, England, is my home. I have enjoyed the 60-odd years that I have been here very much. I have no complaints at all. I’ve been to Australia, I’ve been to Africa, to Canada, and to the United States. No, it’s always back to England and back to Preston for me.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/533175/original/file-20230621-18-hw1fuf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/533175/original/file-20230621-18-hw1fuf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=144&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/533175/original/file-20230621-18-hw1fuf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=144&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/533175/original/file-20230621-18-hw1fuf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=144&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/533175/original/file-20230621-18-hw1fuf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=181&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/533175/original/file-20230621-18-hw1fuf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=181&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/533175/original/file-20230621-18-hw1fuf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=181&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<p>You can <em><a href="https://bit.ly/3DdOERY">download the e-book here</a></em>. Thank you for your interest.</p>
<hr><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/206455/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alan Rice receives funding from the Leverhulme Trust, the EU and the AHRC, and is co-chair of Lancaster Black History Group. England is My Home: Windrush Lives in Lancashire is available as an illustrated ebook at prestonblackhistorygroup.org.uk</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jack Hepworth does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Members of Preston’s Caribbean community describe their experiences as migrants arriving and putting down deep roots in this provincial town.Alan Rice, Professor in English and American Studies, University of Central LancashireJack Hepworth, Canon Murray Fellow in Irish History, University of OxfordLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1496912020-11-09T18:30:09Z2020-11-09T18:30:09ZLand flatworms are invading the West Indies<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368025/original/file-20201106-21-1ukfsjf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=4%2C0%2C3109%2C1494&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">_Amaga expatria_, a spectacular species, has just been reported in Guadeloupe and Martinique.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://dx.doi.org/10.7717/peerj.10098/fig-5">Pierre & Claude Guezennec</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In 2013, an inhabitant of Cagnes-sur-Mer, France, found a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geoplanidae">land flatworm</a> in his garden and had the good idea to send the photograph to a network of naturalists. We then launched a <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/jljjustine/que-faire-si-je-trouve-un-plathelminthe?">citizen science survey</a> in France to learn more – and we were not disappointed. More than 10 species of land flatworms from elsewhere are now reported in metropolitan France, including a giant species 30 centimetres long and a species that is now found in more than 70% of France’s departments.</p>
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À lire aussi :
<a href="https://theconversation.com/obama-nungara-how-a-flatworm-from-argentina-jumped-the-atlantic-and-invaded-france-131186">Obama nungara: how a flatworm from Argentina jumped the Atlantic and invaded France</a>
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<p>An unexpected result was receiving photographs from the overseas French departments, particularly the West Indies. With a tropical climate, the West Indies can host species that could not survive in mainland France. We often receive new accounts of <a href="https://doi.org/10.20944/preprints202005.0023.v1">species found in the Antilles</a> and this is an initial report.</p>
<h2>The giant “hammerhead worm”, <em>Bipalium kewense</em></h2>
<p>Let’s start with the big one. The “hammerhead worm”, <em>Bipalium kewense</em>, is indeed a giant: 30 centimetres – longer than your shoe, even if you wear size 44. “<em>Kewense</em>” is a Latin term meaning “from Kew”, because it was first found in 1878 in the tropical greenhouse of Kew Gardens, London, home to plants from all over the world. It was determined much later that its area of origin is in Vietnam. This is one of the characteristics of many <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geoplanidae">land flatworms</a>: they may have gone unnoticed in their country of origin, but are soon observed in the regions they have been introduced to and invaded.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Bipalium kewense" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367496/original/file-20201104-19-1jcecv3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">The ‘hammerhead worm’ <em>Bipalium kewense</em>, the longest of the invasive land flatworms of the West Indies, here killing an earthworm.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pierre Gros</span></span>
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<p><em>Bipalium kewense</em> is present in Guadeloupe, Martinique, and in other Caribbean islands such as Cuba. It also found in <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.7717/peerj.4672">South and North America, Southern Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Europe</a>.</p>
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<p>
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À lire aussi :
<a href="https://theconversation.com/yes-giant-predatory-worms-really-are-invading-france-97106">Yes, giant predatory worms really are invading France</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Outside of its source region, the species also gave up… sexual reproduction. Those found in the West Indies do not have sex organs and reproduce through a phenomenon called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fission_(biology)">fission</a>. A piece of the tail breaks off and grows a head, producing a new individual. Each is therefore a clone of their parent, themselves a clone of their parent. This same individual has thus invaded several continents. <em>Bipalium kewense</em> is a predator of earthworms, which it kills with a deadly poison, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetrodotoxin">tetrodotoxin</a>.</p>
<h2>The little “hammerhead worm”, <em>Bipalium vagum</em></h2>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Bipalium vagum" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367687/original/file-20201105-17-6pcck.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The little ‘hammerhead worm’ <em>Bipalium vagum</em>, present in Guadeloupe and Martinique, photographed here in French Guiana.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sébastien Sant</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><em>Bipalium vagum</em> has the same general shape as <em>Bipalium kewense</em>, with its elongated body and broad head, but it is much smaller, a few centimetres long, and the lines on its back are much more distinct. The species <a href="https://doi.org/10.11646/zootaxa.1001.1.3">was only described in 2005</a> and found in Bermuda. As with all <em>Bipalium</em> species, the region of origin is believed to be in Asia, but it is not known where exactly. In 2018 we showed that the species is also present in <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.7717/peerj.4672">Martinique and Guadeloupe</a>. It has also been found in Florida, South America and various countries in Asia. In English, the species is called the “mollusc-eating hammerhead worm” although its diet has not been studied in any specific way.</p>
<h2>One of the “100 most harmful invasive species”, <em>Platydemus manokwari</em></h2>
<p>In 2000, scientists drew up a list of the <a href="http://www.issg.org/pdf/publications/worst_100/english_100_worst.pdf">“100 world’s worst invasive alien species”</a>. This includes the tiger mosquito, the Florida turtle and the black rat. One land flatworm was included: <em>Platydemus manokwari</em>, the New Guinea flatworm. It eats snails and was <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.7717/peerj.1037">deliberately introduced to some Pacific islands</a> in an attempt to control giant African land snails, themselves introduced as potential food. Instead, they became a pest, attacking and exterminating many of the native snails and endangering island biodiversity.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Platydemus manokwari" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367501/original/file-20201104-23-1cfongx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The famous <em>Platydemus manokwari</em>, the New Guinea flatworm, has now invaded Guadeloupe as well.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pierre Gros</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In 2019, we received some very bad news – reports indicated that <em>Platydemus manokwari</em> had arrived in <a href="https://doi.org/10.20944/preprints202005.0023.v1">Guadeloupe</a>. The species is already in other Caribbean islands such as <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.7717/peerj.1037">Puerto Rico</a> and is on the way to invade Florida, Texas and Louisiana. No report has yet been received from Martinique, but unfortunately it is necessary to add “yet”. It has also been found in <a href="https://peerj.com/articles/297/">mainland France</a>.</p>
<h2>The one that looks a bit like a banana, <em>Amaga expatria</em></h2>
<p><em>Amaga expatria</em>, like <em>Bipalium vagum</em>, was also <a href="https://doi.org/10.11646/zootaxa.1001.1.3">described in 2005</a> from two specimens found in a botanical garden in Bermuda. No one has found this species for 15 years – one would think it is rare. And then, we received more than <a href="https://peerj.com/articles/10098/">20 reports from Martinique and Guadeloupe</a>, 10 times more than all those that were known. <em>Amaga expatria</em> is well established almost everywhere on the two islands.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Amaga expatria, map" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=353&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=353&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=353&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368044/original/file-20201106-21-cm56e3.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Places where the flatworm <em>Amaga expatria</em> was found in Guadeloupe and Martinique. The colours represent rainfall.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jessica Thévenot; background, Météo-France</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><em>Amaga expatria</em> is a large species, up to 15 cm long, with a broad and flat body. The colour is yellow-orange, with black dots. Yes, it looks a bit like, in colour and shape, a banana cut lengthwise.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Amaga expatria" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367505/original/file-20201104-17-t8a0u1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The flatworm <em>Amaga expatria</em>, living animals photographed in various places in Guadeloupe.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Laurent Charles, Mathieu Coulis et Guy van Laere</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Where does this species come from? The species name “<em>expatria</em>” had been chosen to indicate that it was not at home in Bermuda. The genus <em>Amaga</em> includes about 10 species from South America, and so the species probably comes from there – but the species <em>Amaga expatria</em> has not yet been found in its country of origin. Is the species in other islands in the West Indies? We do not know.</p>
<p>For <em>Amaga expatria</em>, we were able to use advanced molecular methods to analyse its <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitochondrial_DNA">mitochondrial genome</a>, as we had done for <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/23802359.2019.1596768">other species</a>. As a further result, new sequencing methods make it possible to identify the DNA of the animals the worm has eaten. This is how we had proof that <em>Amaga expatria</em> eats a snail in Martinique, named <em>Subulina octona</em>. Local naturalists have also told us that <a href="https://peerj.com/articles/10098/">the species eats various snails and earthworms</a>.</p>
<h2>Where do these invasive worms come from?</h2>
<p>Each of these species has a different geographic origin: Continental Asia for <em>Bipalium kewense</em> and <em>Bipalium vagum</em>, New Guinea for <em>Platydemus manokwari</em>, and Central America for <em>Amaga expatria</em>. How did they get to the West Indies? The answer is the same for all: by transporting plants. A land flatworm in the soil of a flower pot, or even stuck between two leaves in a banana plant, is virtually invisible. These worms to not invade the world alone and certainly not on purpose – it was international and inter-island trade that enabled their spread. Once on an island, they will invade very slowly, garden by garden, or very quickly, if flower pots or plants are transported. When the invasion happened, we don’t know, but <em>Bipalium kewense</em>, for example, has been reported in <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.7717/peerj.4672">dozens of countries for decades</a>.</p>
<h2>Why is this important for the ecology of the West Indies?</h2>
<p>All of these land flatworms are predators – they eat prey that they will capture on the ground. However, soil ecology is important, and depends on all those animals that live in the soil and on its surface. Adding new predators to the West Indian soil ecosystem, which will consume some species but not others, has the potential to upset ecological balances. It’s like putting a wolf in a field of sheep – it’s not hard to imagine that the number will decrease. But we do not yet have precise figures on the impact of these introduced species – what their prey is and how great the impact.</p>
<h2>What to do?</h2>
<p>We currently are in the early stages of scientific work to find out what the ecological impact of these invading animals is – this is currently unknown. Eventually we would like to find ways to remove them, but this is a distant goal. Right now, you can help by <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/jljjustine/que-faire-si-je-trouve-un-plathelminthe?">reporting land flatworms</a> found in your garden or on your walks. It’s simple: take a photo, note the location, and <a href="https://inpn.mnhn.fr/informations/inpn-especes">send the report</a>. Who knows, there are probably other species not yet spotted – unfortunately.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/149691/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jean-Lou Justine received grants from the Muséum National d'Histoire Naturelle, Paris. He is one of the Academic Editors of PeerJ (<a href="https://peerj.com/">https://peerj.com/</a>), the scientific journal in which several of the studies cited here were published.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Hugh Jones ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d'une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n'a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.</span></em></p>Several species of flatworms have invaded the West Indies, and some are spectacular. We take stock of the situation with a study published at the same time as this article.Jean-Lou Justine, Professeur, UMR ISYEB (Institut de Systématique, Évolution, Biodiversité), Muséum national d’histoire naturelle (MNHN)Hugh Jones, Chercheur, Natural History MuseumLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1200062019-07-09T14:16:46Z2019-07-09T14:16:46ZResistance and collaboration: Asameni and the keys to Christiansborg Castle in Accra<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283281/original/file-20190709-44505-17gocor.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The 26 silver keys to Christiansborg Castle.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Christiansborg Archaeological Heritage Project (CAHP)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>“Yes, you can see the keys. But, you must make an appointment and come back another day. After all, now that we know who you are, for all we know, you may have come to collect the keys from us, and take them back to Denmark,” Nana Samanhyia Darko II, the Gyaasewahene (Chief of Staff) mischievously chuckled.</p>
<p>As instructed, exactly one week later, I sat at Bogyawe Palace in Akwamufie, the Akwamu capital, anxiously waiting to see the Paramount Chief, Akwamuhene Odeneho Kwafo Akoto III to request permission to see the keys to <a href="https://theconversation.com/slavers-in-the-family-what-a-castle-in-accra-reveals-about-ghanas-history-104172">Christiansborg Castle</a>. </p>
<p>As a Ghanaian descendant of Carl Gustav Engmann, a Danish Governor at the castle (1752-7), I was <a href="https://christiansborgarchaeologicalheritageproject.org/">conducting archaeological excavations</a> at the site. Hence, the Gyaasewahene’s comments. </p>
<p>Collectively, the keys to Christiansborg Castle comprise 26 keys made of silver. They lie in an old, small wooden box called apem adaka (a box with a 1000 pieces of gold), since formerly used to store gold and gold dust. </p>
<p><a href="https://academicminute.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/01-21-19-Hampshire-The-Archaeology-of-the-Slaver-in-Eighteenth-Century-Ghana.mp3?siteplayer=true&dl=1">The story</a> of how Christiansborg Castle’s keys come to be at the Bogyawe Palace is an intriguing one. </p>
<p>The story is as follows.</p>
<h2>Seizing the castle</h2>
<p>The Akwamu Empire (1600-1730), at its acme, controlled a territory extending 200 miles along the coast and 100 miles into the interior, with Nyanaose as its capital. The Akwamu controlled the gold, ivory and slave trade routes from the interior to the coast. By 1670, the Akwamu directed their attention to Accra, which had become an important trading centre where Portuguese, Dutch, English, Swedes and Danes engaged in coastal trade. In 1681, the Akwamu took over Accra. They began to strategise to take hold of all the forts and castles on the coast.</p>
<p>Christiansborg Castle was vital to this plan.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/slavers-in-the-family-what-a-castle-in-accra-reveals-about-ghanas-history-104172">Slavers in the family: what a castle in Accra reveals about Ghana's history</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Christiansborg Castle was situated in Osu, Accra (today’s Ghana). At the castle, Danes and Africans exchanged guns, ammunition, liquor, cloth, iron tools, brass objects and glass beads for gold, ivory and captive Africans. Between 1660 and 1806, the Danish transported 100,000 - 126,000 Africans to the Danish West Indies (St Croix, St John and St Thomas islands). </p>
<p>In 1693, Asameni, an Akwamu royal, planned to seize control of the castle by way of a cunning ruse. A successful trader and warrior, Asameni moved to Accra, became proficient in the Danish language and disguised himself as a cook and interpreter to secure work at the castle. He studied the site, and its occupants and operations, including the ships’ arrivals and departures as well as those of traders, merchants and others who worked and visited the castle.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=354&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283102/original/file-20190708-51273-ymma9i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A contemporary drawing of Christiansborg Castle in Accra.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Danish National Archives</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Akwamuhene Ansa Sasraku II then bestowed the necessary royal directives.</p>
<p>Asameni informed the Danes that he would escort a group of Akwamu traders to purchase ammunition. In June 1693, Asameni and 80 armed men impersonating traders entered the castle. Since it was accepted practice to test merchandise prior to purchase, the men were given ammunition. But they’d also hidden ammunition, powder and shots under their clothes. </p>
<p>Once in the castle, the Akwamu attacked the unsuspecting Danes. A fierce battle ensued. Severely wounded, Governor Janssen escaped to nearby Fort Crevecoeur. Many Danish merchants and officials were injured, and some were taken to Akwamu as captives. Asameni and his men captured the castle.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283288/original/file-20190709-44479-23fm63.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Asameni.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">R.A.A. Engmann</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Asameni appointed himself “Governor” of Christiansborg Castle and donned a Danish governor’s uniform. He replaced the Danish with the Akwamu flag. The Akwamuhene kept the castle’s keys as a trophy, but Asameni kept its merchandise, worth 1,400 gold marks. He invited English and Dutch ships’ captains to trade with him at the castle, where he entertained them lavishly, and frequently ignited canons in their honour. </p>
<p>Asameni occupied the castle for a year and a half, until negotiations resulted in the Akwamu returning the castle and captives to the Danish, in exchange for 1600 pieces of silver. </p>
<p>The Akwamu seized Christiansborg Castle so that they could dictate trade terms between themselves, African traders from the interior, and Europeans on the coast. They understood the financial rewards accrued from the gold and slave trades. Besides, the castle was on Akwamu-controlled land. And eventually they wanted to take hold of all European coastal fortifications.</p>
<p>The Akwamu participated in the Danish transatlantic slave trade with the stipulation that no Akwamu be enslaved.</p>
<p>Yet, later, many Akwamu, including royals, were transported to the Danish West Indies, enslaved and worked on plantations under brutal and dehumanising conditions. For instance, in 1733, 150 enslaved Akwamu launched a rebellion on St. John’s island that lasted six months. It was eventually crushed. As punishment, men and women were burned slowly to death at the stake, sawn in half, impaled and had their heads and hands cut off after torture with hot pinchers. Others committed collective suicide.</p>
<p>Ultimately, the Akwamu did not accept a subordinate status.</p>
<h2>African agency</h2>
<p>Today, in Akwamu, Christiansborg Castle’s keys are referred to as state keys; they form part of Akwamu royal regalia and stool property. The Akwamu also sing Ɛdɔm nsafoa (Christiansborg Castle key’s song).</p>
<p>A bronze statue is dedicated to Asameni, the brilliant strategist, and his capture of the castle. Wearing a batakarikese (woven smock), symbolising his army of warriors disguised as traders, his left leg rests on a canon accompanied by cannon balls, symbolising the European forts and castles. Asameni holds a Danish flintlock gun in his right hand and a bunch of keys in his left hand.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/283282/original/file-20190709-44472-1q2zb50.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A statue of Asameni.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">R.A.A. Engmann</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The story of Asameni and Christiansborg Castle’s keys reveals the complexities of African agency during the transatlantic slave trade, in particular, resistance and collaboration.</p>
<p>Akwamu resistance to the Danish at the castle was not because the Akwamu were against the transatlantic slave trade. Resistance was not a moral or ethical act. Rather, the Akwamu collaborated with the Danish. Akwamu objections concerned the manner by which the transatlantic slave trade was conducted. </p>
<p>The keys to the castle provide material evidence that the Akwamu Empire seized power from the Danes and as a consequence influenced the terms of the transatlantic slave trade. </p>
<p>In the final analysis, as the Akwamu are quick to point out, the Danish only paid 600 pieces of silver to reoccupy Christiansborg Castle. There are 1000 pieces of silver still outstanding.</p>
<p><em>I am most grateful to Akwamuhene Odeneho Kwafo Akoto III. Thanks also to Nana Samanhyia Darko II.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/120006/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rachel Ama Asaa Engmann does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The story of Asameni and Christiansborg Castle’s keys reveals the complexities of decisions taken during the transatlantic slave trade.Rachel Ama Asaa Engmann, Assistant Professor, African Studies, Archaeology, Anthropology and Critical Heritage, Hampshire CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1016532018-08-28T10:38:19Z2018-08-28T10:38:19ZTeaching V.S. Naipaul in the Caribbean<p>Like everyone else in the world, people on the twin-island Caribbean nation of Trinidad and Tobago learned on Aug. 11 that Trinidad-born Sir Vidia Naipaul – better known as V.S. Naipaul – had died. </p>
<p>While newspapers in the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/08/12/books/vs-naipaul-appraisal.html">U.S.</a> and <a href="https://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/1002344/VS-Naipaul-dead-nobel-prize-literature-author-dies-tributes-how-did-he-die">Britain</a> ran tributes to this titan of English-language literature, reactions in the Caribbean have been more <a href="http://www.indiawest.com/letters_to_editor/naipaul-s-multi-racial-school-friends-in-trinidad/article_e56f1b50-a7e4-11e8-9267-7f4383e1dd5e.html">complex</a>.</p>
<p>Naipaul is perhaps Trinidad’s most famous offspring. But many here consider the 85-year old writer a <a href="https://www.spectator.co.uk/2018/08/why-has-v-s-naipaul-rejected-the-trinidad-of-his-birth/">prodigal son</a>, because he often disavowed his origins. </p>
<p>After receiving the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2001, Naipaul <a href="https://www.caribbean-beat.com/issue-53/guerilla-vs-naipaul#axzz5OvfrEZfP">claimed</a> England as his “home” and India as the country of his ancestors. He neglected to mention his birthplace and the setting for so much of his work: Trinidad and Tobago.</p>
<p>But Naipaul remains a celebrated part of the Caribbean canon, one of just three Nobel Laureates from the region. In 2007 he even participated in many events at the University of the West Indies, the Caribbean’s premiere public university, when it celebrated what it called <a href="https://sta.uwi.edu/news/releases/release.asp?id=21828">The Year of Sir Vidia Naipaul</a>. </p>
<p>As a <a href="https://sta.uwi.edu/fhe/dlcc/VMaharaj.asp">lecturer in literature at the university’s St. Augustine campus</a>, it’s my job to help students appreciate his conflicted literary legacy. </p>
<h2>Naipaul the decolonizer</h2>
<p>Naipaul’s family, like nearly <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2004/12/17/nyregion/indian-twice-removed.html">half of Trinidad’s population</a>, had Indian roots. Though his early novels were often comedies set in the Caribbean, the author left home to study in England. His later works – bleak reflections on India, Africa and the Muslim world – reflected Naipaul’s global outlook. </p>
<p>Caribbean schoolchildren first meet Naipaul as teenagers. One of his books is usually included in the <a href="https://www.cxc.org/">public secondary school curriculum</a>, which is specifically designed to make education a part of the region’s decolonization. Currently it is “A House for Mr. Biswas.”</p>
<p>Fifty-six years after independence from the United Kingdom, the Caribbean is still sloughing off a legacy of colonial rule: the perception that Caribbean culture is less rich, relevant and important than other cultures. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/233678/original/file-20180827-75981-bhxcxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/233678/original/file-20180827-75981-bhxcxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233678/original/file-20180827-75981-bhxcxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233678/original/file-20180827-75981-bhxcxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233678/original/file-20180827-75981-bhxcxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233678/original/file-20180827-75981-bhxcxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233678/original/file-20180827-75981-bhxcxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Naipaul, a complex literary titan.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Chris Ison/PA via AP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“Silence in our school curriculum on the subject of Caribbean writers raised additional doubts about the literary merit of such works as well as the moral standing of their authors,” wrote the literary critic <a href="http://scholarlyrepository.miami.edu/anthurium/vol5/iss2/5">Rhonda Cobham-Sander</a> in 2007. “[S]o we tended to talk about them, like the uncle who had fled to Venezuela … in the past tense, or the subjunctive.”</p>
<p>Today’s Caribbean curriculum, in contrast, teaches young people to embrace aspects of the local culture once considered embarrassing. </p>
<p>Naipaul, who was born under British colonial rule but came of age writing about the region’s drive for sovereignty, is seen as part of this post-colonial project. </p>
<p>The namesake of Naipaul’s picaresque <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/feb/12/teju-cole-vs-naipaul-a-house-for-mr-biswas-trinidad-novel">“A House for Mr. Biswas,”</a> for example, is bent on escape from living with his in-laws, the Tulsis. Even as his lot in life improves with residence in each of the Tulsis’ new homes, Biswas is never satisfied.</p>
<p>As Naipaul’s prologue makes clear, his protagonist is like the Caribbean in that way: He pursues sovereignty and personal freedom at the price of security. </p>
<h2>Naipaul in the university</h2>
<p>Over the course of their three-year undergraduate education, literature students at the University of the West Indies-St. Augustine may read Naipaul up to six times. Each course puts Naipaul to a different use as it aims to provide students with a different set of skills and competencies.</p>
<p>“A House for Mr. Biswas” again often appears on their first-year “Introduction to Prose Fiction” syllabus. </p>
<p>The short stories from <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/49741.Miguel_Street?from_search=true">“Miguel Street”</a> may be included in their “West Indian narratives” coursework, and Naipaul’s <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Way-World-V-S-Naipaul/dp/0679761667">“A Way in the World”</a> is generally a key text for teaching postmodern literary theory. Advanced literature students may read <a href="https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/v-s-naipaul/the-indian-trilogy">Naipaul’s Indian trilogy</a> in a third-year class called “Indian Diaspora Literature.” </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/233679/original/file-20180827-75978-1hvbxd0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/233679/original/file-20180827-75978-1hvbxd0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233679/original/file-20180827-75978-1hvbxd0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233679/original/file-20180827-75978-1hvbxd0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233679/original/file-20180827-75978-1hvbxd0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233679/original/file-20180827-75978-1hvbxd0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/233679/original/file-20180827-75978-1hvbxd0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">For Caribbean readers, Naipaul’s characters — and the humor he derives from them — are immediately recognizable.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/9/91/MiguelStreet.jpg/220px-MiguelStreet.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In my experience, students – especially those from Trinidad and Tobago, who form the majority of St. Augustine’s student body – generally connect immediately and powerfully with Naipaul’s work.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/49741.Miguel_Street?from_search=true">“Miguel Street</a>,” for example, often evokes raucous laughter because its characters and events are so instantly recognizable to Caribbean readers. </p>
<p>In recounting her early readings of the book, <a href="https://www.amherst.edu/people/facstaff/ccobhamsande">Cobham-Sander</a>, recalls “laughing till I cried at Man Man … and screaming with delight at the idea of his dog leaving symmetrical piles of droppings on the stools in the Café at the corner of Alberto Street where we regularly stopped for sweet drinks.”</p>
<p>Cobham-Sander was also certain that Naipaul’s protagonist Man Man was modeled on a real person – an eccentric neighbor of hers – demonstrating the author’s talent for capturing local daily life. </p>
<h2>Naipaul the pop culture creator</h2>
<p>As <a href="https://scholarlyrepository.miami.edu/anthurium/vol3/iss2/?utm_source=scholarlyrepository.miami.edu%2Fanthurium%2Fvol3%2Fiss2%2F10&utm_medium=PDF&utm_campaign=PDFCoverPages">many scholars</a> have asserted, Naipaul’s writing style shares a great deal in common with that most Trinidadian of persons, the calypsonian. </p>
<p>“It is only in the calypso that the Trinidadian touches reality,” Naipaul writes in his long travel essay, <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/trauma-and-literature/middle-passage-and-racebased-trauma/87BC19724E6D42FA63309FF8065DF5B8">“The Middle Passage</a>.” “The calypso deals with local incidents, local attitudes, and it does so in a local language. The pure calypso, the best calypso, is incomprehensible to the outsider.” </p>
<p>But, like the traditional “calypsonian,” whose aggressive <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/40653156?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">lyrics often offend</a>, Naipaul’s work can raise a reader’s hackles.</p>
<p>This is particularly true of the author’s many nonfictional texts. </p>
<p>In last semester’s advanced seminar in West Indian Literature, I taught “<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Middle-Passage-Caribbean-Revisited/dp/0375708340">The Middle Passage</a>” – Naipaul’s 1962 attempt to unveil the long-lasting aftereffects of slavery on the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iku9TS-3rk4">the Caribbean</a>. </p>
<p>It is Naipaul’s very first travelogue, when he cut his teeth on the form, and it was a government commission. Trinidad’s first-ever prime minister, Eric Eustace Williams, asked the young writer to explore the post-colonial Caribbean and write a critique that would lay a basis for nation-building. </p>
<p>Instead, the <a href="https://docs.lib.purdue.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=https://www.google.com/&httpsredir=1&article=2148&context=clcweb">devastating tome</a> may well have severed his relationship with the region – and with generations of Caribbean readers to come. </p>
<h2>Naipaul’s critics</h2>
<p>Among other <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/18/books/review/Shaftel-t.html">controversial</a> takes on Caribbean history, “The Middle Passage” includes such indictments as “History is built around achievement and creation; and nothing was created in the West Indies” – this in newly independent region in the midst of rewriting its history. </p>
<p>For my students, the book’s reputation as a national betrayal was a real obstacle. Most told me they disliked the text. Some said it was offensive to West Indians. </p>
<p>And that was before they had even read it.</p>
<p>These same students had enthusiastically engaged with similarly difficult questions of slavery, race and Caribbean history in the work of cultural theorist Stuart Hall. His BBC video series “<a href="http://bufvc.ac.uk/dvdfind/index.php/title/18006">Redemption Song</a>” asserts that whites and blacks lived together on plantations in “a mixture of cruelty and intimacy.”</p>
<p>But, with Naipaul, the students were less amenable to such ideas.</p>
<h2>Reconciling Naipaul</h2>
<p>The criticism that <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2002/02/a-terrifying-honesty/302426/">followed that book</a> is one of the greatest difficulties professors face in teaching Naipaul. </p>
<p>How can we help students see Naipaul’s value as a post-colonial prophet when he so famously spurned the region during its quest to forge an indigenous identity? </p>
<p>How do students reconcile the Caribbean decolonizer they first meet in high school with the Caribbean skeptic they’ll debate as more mature readers? </p>
<p>Naipaul wrote for 60 years. He was <a href="https://literature.britishcouncil.org/writer/v-s-naipaul">knighted</a>. He authored novels, essays and travelogues. He won <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2007/dec/21/lookingbackatthebookervs">every literary prize imaginable</a>. </p>
<p>He was pandit, calypsonian and knight – a provocateur of different cultural persuasions and a defender of what he believed to be right – sometimes simultaneously, often contradictorily.</p>
<p>To paraphrase the author himself, Naipaul was <a href="https://www.thehindu.com/opinion/editorial/a-complicated-man/article24672195.ece">a complicated man</a> bearing all the complicated strands of his own complicated pasts. </p>
<p>In the Caribbean, accepting this V.S. Naipaul is a task indeed, for teacher and student alike.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/101653/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>J. Vijay Maharaj is affiliated with Friends of Mr Biswas, an NGO formed to provide support for young and/or upcoming writers and readers and to maintain the Naipaul house in Trinidad for this purpose, among others. </span></em></p>Author V.S. Naipaul, who died on Aug. 11, both scorned and mirrored his Caribbean origins. At the University of the West Indies, students must reconcile this conflicted titan’s literary legacy.J. Vijay Maharaj, Lecturer, The University of the West Indies: St. Augustine CampusLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/979052018-06-14T12:02:45Z2018-06-14T12:02:45ZEmpire Windrush: forgotten archive material reveals who was on its outward voyage to the Caribbean<p>When the Empire Windrush docked at Tilbury in Essex on June 22, 1948 it was carrying a crowded cargo of around 500 West Indian settlers dressed in their Sunday best. Britain is marking the 70th anniversary of that now legendary story of arrival, which is said to herald the beginning of postwar mass migration to Britain. </p>
<p>But like most beginnings, this one isn’t as clear as it seems. </p>
<p>The Windrush was not the first ship carrying West Indian migrants to Britain in the 1940s – for example, the Ormonde and the Almanzora <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/17449855.2017.1411416">arrived in 1947</a>. We know, thanks to <a href="https://www.plutobooks.com/9780745330723/staying-power/">historians such as Peter Fryer</a> – himself a reporter on the Windrush story as it broke – that the <a href="https://theconversation.com/mary-beard-is-right-roman-britain-was-multi-ethnic-so-why-does-this-upset-people-so-much-82269">history of black settlement</a> in this country goes back at least as far as Roman times. We also know, due to Britain’s long overseas past as a slaving nation, that, as the Barbadian novelist <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/The_Pleasures_of_Exile.html?id=hUw6Gkhj5IcC&source=kp_cover&redir_esc=y">George Lamming put it</a> in 1960: “We (Britons and West Indians) have met before.”</p>
<p>But what of the immediate history of the Windrush, after the former German troopship was commandeered by the British, and before its legendary voyage from Jamaica to Tilbury? When it is <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/17449855.2017.1411416?needAccess=true">mentioned at all</a>, accounts locate it somewhere in the Atlantic, en route from Australia to Britain.</p>
<p>So it was with a sense of surprise and déjà vu that I came across a short news report in the BBC’s Written Archives that places the ship elsewhere. </p>
<h2>Airmen repatriated</h2>
<p>Broadcast from London to the Caribbean in April 1948, the BBC script opens: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The Colonial Office have announced that the last big draft of airmen for repatriation will sail from Tilbury on May 8th on the Empire Windrush.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The radio broadcast continues: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The Officers-in-Charge will be Flight Lieutenant Johnny Smythe, a West African who still carries around several bits of shrapnel in his lungs and side from his war service and Flight Lieutenant J.J. Blair of Jamaica who won the DFC.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The DFC is the <a href="https://www.forces-war-records.co.uk/medals/distinguished-flying-cross">Distinguished Flying Cross</a> which is awarded to Royal Air Force personnel for acts of valour, courage or devotion.</p>
<p>This voyage out took place just weeks before the Windrush entered history, when it sailed in the opposite direction from the Caribbean to Tilbury. The 500 “ordinary airmen” on board had, according to the broadcast, recently completed a variety of vocational training courses in engineering, welding, accountancy and “dental mechanics”. All were reportedly keen to get back to their respective homes in Jamaica, British Guiana, Trinidad, Barbados, British Honduras and Antigua. They were among the last of <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-32703753">around 10,000 or so</a> West Indian service men and women recruited during World War II to return to the Caribbean.</p>
<p>Delivered by the West Indian cricketer, Bertie Clarke, the broadcast script closes by saying: “The journey will be Jamaica, Trinidad, on to Bermuda and then back to England.” It is this last leg of the journey back to England that currently frames our understanding of the Windrush as a voyage in.</p>
<h2>A story of arrival and departure</h2>
<p>The discovery of this previously unknown document about the ship’s outward voyage invites a re-think of the Windrush story, from the other direction. Before it “arrived” in official history, the Windrush was already here. Its journey is more directly implicated in Britain’s domestic post-war past than we have so far recognised. </p>
<p>The neglected BBC report is just one small example of a much more pervasive and deep-seated amnesia that is, paradoxically, central to British national memory. It is a story of heroic presence and determined participation that begs to be set alongside Prime Minister Theresa May’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/hostile-environment-immigration-policy-has-made-britain-a-precarious-place-to-call-home-95546">“hostile environment” policy</a> on immigration. It is a story which the recent treatment of the <a href="https://theconversation.com/windrush-generation-latest-to-be-stripped-of-their-rights-in-the-name-of-migration-control-95158">Windrush generation</a> shows, goes on being forgotten.</p>
<p>Perhaps part of the reason this pre-history of the ship’s otherwise richly documented journey has been forgotten, is that the now famous story of its arrival is more convenient than the neglected story of its departure. If the legend of the Windrush’s arrival involves a narrative of colonial dependency in which the Caribbean is a grateful beneficiary, the story of its departure points to Britain’s dependence on its empire during the darkest days of World War II.</p>
<p>Another more technical reason is that the newly unearthed broadcast was never aired in Britain. The BBC’s Home Service documents only the story of the Windrush’s arrival. The story of its prior departure just a few weeks before was broadcast externally, on the Colonial Service, and has remained out of earshot ever since.</p>
<p>The history of the Windrush is a multi-directional one and should be remembered as such: a voyage in, as well as a voyage out.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/97905/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>James Procter has previously received funding from the Leverhulme Trust, AHRB, AHRC and the British Academy.</span></em></p>When the Empire Windrush arrived in Tilbury Docks 70 years ago, it was on a return journey – having taken West Indian war veterans back to the Caribbean.James Procter, Professor of Modern and Contemporary Literature, Newcastle UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/484502015-10-01T14:42:09Z2015-10-01T14:42:09ZBritain rules out slavery reparations – but should the Caribbean get more aid?<p>Caribbean countries are keeping the case for slavery reparations at the forefront of the international political agenda, and have <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/mar/09/caribbean-nations-demand-slavery-reparations">established a commission</a> on the issue. But after protesters raised the matter during David Cameron’s recent visit to Jamaica, the British prime minister <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-34401412">ruled out the payment of reparations</a> for his country’s role in the international slave trade in a speech to the Jamaica’s parliament. </p>
<p>On the one hand Caribbean nations point to the crime of the African slave trade and the plantation systems that were instituted in the colonies. <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=lSyDCgAAQBAJ">Millions of Africans</a> were forcibly transported to the Americas over the course of about 300 years. Once there they were beaten, tortured, raped and sometimes murdered in the pursuit of profit. European nations were the principal beneficiaries of the system. </p>
<p>On the other hand, Europeans nations claim that they cannot be held liable for what their ancestors did hundreds of years ago, in an age when different morals held sway.</p>
<p>Reparations for previous national crimes are not unprecedented. Germany <a href="http://www.cnbc.com/2015/03/18/who-still-owes-what-for-the-two-world-wars.html">paid out significant sums</a> following World War II, and more recently Britain paid compensation to <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-22790037">Kenyans tortured during the Mau-Mau uprising</a> in the 1950s. Crucially, however, these offences were comparatively recent and the claims made by those who had directly suffered.</p>
<h2>Shattered trajectories</h2>
<p>The reparations for slavery debate is different. The British abolished <a href="http://www.saylor.org/site/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Slavery-Abolition-Act-1833.pdf">slavery in the 1830s</a>, emancipating those who had been enslaved. Other countries did the same during the 19th century, ending with Brazil in 1888. There are no living former slaves in the Americas. Equally, those who owned slaves are long dead.</p>
<p>The reparations claim therefore is not a matter for individuals, and no one is suggesting that cheques be sent to living people. Rather the claim, focuses on the different development trajectories between the colonies and the imperial powers. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/96950/original/image-20151001-29650-16s38hv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/96950/original/image-20151001-29650-16s38hv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/96950/original/image-20151001-29650-16s38hv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/96950/original/image-20151001-29650-16s38hv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/96950/original/image-20151001-29650-16s38hv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/96950/original/image-20151001-29650-16s38hv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/96950/original/image-20151001-29650-16s38hv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Slavery was abolished in the British empire in 1833.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atlantic_slave_trade#/media/File:The_inspection_and_sale_of_a_slave.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The wealth of the colonies, produced by slaves, flowed into the European nations, helping to drive the industrial revolution. Colonies, by contrast, <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/Ordering_Independence.html?id=v0FFDSEUGOsC&redir_esc=y">suffered under-investment</a> in education and infrastructure and had poorly diversified economies. When political independence came in the 1950s and 1960s, the new nations were overly reliant on cash crop agriculture and had barely literate populations.</p>
<p>It’s easy for critics to argue that in the half century since many Caribbean nations gained independence they should have sorted themselves out. Surely 50 years is enough time to develop into a modern nation state? Aren’t the calls of politicians for reparations simply to cover up their own failings to deliver a better standard of living for their own people? Blaming an external enemy has long been the refuge of those needing to shore up domestic support.</p>
<p>Yet the legacy of colonialism can be clearly seen <a href="http://www.imf.org/external/datamapper/index.php?db=FM">in data</a> for GDP per capita from the International Monetary Fund. The UK has GDP per capita that is three times that of Barbados and ten times that of Jamaica. The Caribbean nations are often indebted, struggling to finance the health and educational infrastructure of a modern state. Much of the <a href="http://www.leighday.co.uk/News/2014/March-2014/CARICOM-nations-unanimously-approve-10-point-plan">work of the Caricom Reparations Commission</a> focuses on these developmental issues, arguing that Britain and the other nations have a moral obligation to support the long-term development of their former colonies that were hampered by the outset by the legacies of slavery.</p>
<h2>Caribbean misses out</h2>
<p>The UK’s overseas aid budget <a href="https://www.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/403381/SID-2014-revised-UNDP-figure-feb15.pdf">is more than £11 billion annually</a>, yet very little actually goes to the Caribbean in bilateral aid. In 2013, 54.1% of UK bilateral aid went to Africa, 42.1% to Asia and 3.2% to the Americas. Education and health programmes in South Asia and Africa tend to rank far above the West Indies in attracting the support of politicians. </p>
<iframe src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/bHf6I/1/" frameborder="0" allowtransparency="true" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" oallowfullscreen="oallowfullscreen" msallowfullscreen="msallowfullscreen" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>Part of the problem lies in perception. The Caribbean does not seem like a poor part of the world to tourists who visit its resorts and palm-fringed beaches. To them it seems far more like a luxurious paradise. Yet, one does not have to travel far beyond the hotel gates to find exactly the same sort of poverty so visible in Africa or Asia. Perhaps Cameron’s visit to Jamaica will bring home to him the fact that the development needs of Britain’s former West Indian colonies are also very significant.</p>
<p>Cameron has not embraced the reparations movement with open arms, particularly at a time when he’s under political pressure at home from <a href="https://theconversation.com/fact-check-would-cutting-international-aid-to-us-levels-save-11-billion-38322">UKIP, which already wants to slash</a> the foreign aid budget. If he acknowledges the case for reparations from the Caribbean, then surely more claims would come from the Asian sub-continent and Africa which were equally exploited in the colonial era. </p>
<p>But perhaps a subtle shift will develop in the future, whereby the current overseas aid budget is broadened to include more for the Caribbean. In some senses, the argument has already been won – Britain tends to direct most of its bilateral aid to former colonies, focusing on health and education just like the reparations commission wishes – it’s just that the Caribbean has tended to miss out. </p>
<p>The government might also encourage UK businesses and NGOs to do more to support the postgraduate studies of the next generation of West Indian doctors, engineers, lawyers, teachers and politicians. The Reparations Commission is unlikely to get the public victory is wants, but it might achieve many of its aims via quieter policy shifts that could have a significant impact.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/48450/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tim Lockley does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>David Cameron has rejected calls for Britain to pay reparations for the slave trade but there might be other ways of paying back.Tim Lockley, Reader in American history, University of WarwickLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/346542014-12-08T02:43:10Z2014-12-08T02:43:10ZAdding pimento: a flavour of Caribbean migration to Australia<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66120/original/image-20141202-20606-1aa28ky.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Trinidad-born Australian novelist Ralph de Boissière migrated to Melbourne in 1948 to escape Trinidad’s colour/class hierarchy.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Breakdown Press</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Growing up with a Jamaican grandmother in 1970s small-town Australia was unusual. There weren’t any other Caribbean (or West Indian) people living nearby and a Caribbean community did not exist in Newcastle, New South Wales. </p>
<p>When I interviewed members of the Caribbean community who migrated to Victoria from the 1960s to the 2000s for the book <a href="http://breakdownpress.org/?p=1124">Adding Pimento: Caribbean Migration to Victoria, Australia</a> (2014), co-edited by Lisa Montague and Pat Thomas, it put my grandmother’s migration into the socio-political context of the time. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66121/original/image-20141202-20585-v27k14.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Adding Pimento (2014).</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Breakdown Press</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Remarkably, my grandmother had come to Australia on an <a href="http://museumvictoria.com.au/collections/items/273346/form-general-assisted-passage-scheme-undertaking-department-of-immigration-1950s">assisted passage</a> – for many years, only offered to people of European background – which she was able to successfully apply for in 1971 because she’d lived in London prior to migrating to Australia. </p>
<p>By the 1970s she was a British citizen. She was also a fair Jamaican who emigrated to Australia because her daughter met and married an Australian. </p>
<p>Caribbean people did come to live in Australia in the 19th century, mainly through the circuits of empire established by the British or because of the attraction of the Gold Rushes in NSW and Victoria. But their attempts to migrate were severely curtailed after the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Australia_policy">White Australia Policy</a> was implemented in 1901. </p>
<p>My grandmother was one of the very small group of Caribbean people who had been able to migrate to Australia before the official end of the White Australia Policy in 1973, either because of the colour of their skin or due to their citizenship and/or marital status. Assisted passage which was yet another way of trying to keep Australia “white”.</p>
<p>The Trinidad-born Australian novelist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ralph_de_Boissi%C3%A8re">Ralph de Boissière</a> migrated to Melbourne in 1948 to escape Trinidad’s colour/class hierarchy, which exists as a legacy of slavery. </p>
<p>In his autobiography, <a href="https://overland.org.au/2010/10/non-fiction-review-%E2%80%93-life-on-the-edge-the-autobiography-of-ralph-de-boissiere/">Life on the Edge</a> (2010), de Boissière describes the “crippling sense of inferiority” experienced by Trinidadians and, by extension, all West Indians as a result of the colonial system. </p>
<p>While de Boissière himself had no problem entering Australia in 1948, his wife Ivy and daughters Marcelle and Jacqueline were detained on board the ship while immigration officials decided if they would “fit in”. De Boissière reports that the family left the ship “feeling that we were tolerated migrants”. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66122/original/image-20141202-20588-wqcprz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Charlie McKenzie migrated to Australia in 1974.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Breakdown Press</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the 1960s and 70s, the granting of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_Caribbean#Independence">Independence</a>, and the rise of the <a href="http://www.jstor.org/discover/10.2307/143020?uid=3737536&uid=2&uid=4&sid=21105333172123">Black Power movement</a> prompted Caribbean migration to Australia. </p>
<p>The influence of communism and socialism on Caribbean political leaders such as Cuba’s Fidel Castro, Jamaica’s Michael Manley, Guyana’s Forbes Burnham and Grenada’s Maurice Bishop also played a part in migration.</p>
<p>Historian <a href="http://history.cass.anu.edu.au/people/emeritus-professor-barry-higman">Barry Higman</a> <a href="http://jj.instituteofjamaica.org.jm/ioj_wp/">claimed</a> in 1976 that Australia was seen as a “haven”, particularly by white and fair West Indians who were fleeing these socio-political changes.</p>
<p>Charlie McKenzie, a former sugar plantation owner from Barbados, decided to migrate to Australia in 1974 after Independence because:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>there was an undercurrent that I didn’t know anything about and I didn’t want any part of. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>McKenzie left an affluent lifestyle to resettle in Melbourne. Prior to arriving, Charlie thought he would work as a taxi driver because “the only thing I could do was drive a car”, but he ended up working in the public service.</p>
<p>Tony and Schavana Phillips left Guyana in 1978 because of the increasing socialist orientation of the Burnham government. They felt that the changes that were taking place, such as compulsory military service for all young people, including women, and the restrictions on imports were making Guyana an uncomfortable place for themselves and their family members.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=708&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=708&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=708&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=890&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=890&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/66124/original/image-20141202-20585-1r3goii.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=890&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Tony and Schvana Phillips on their wedding day.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Breakdown Press</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In their story, Schavana says: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The country was very dangerous to live in; also the economy of the country started to deteriorate … It was really a desperate situation. We made a decision to get out and we got out.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The Phillips already had family living in Melbourne, which was the main draw-card for re-settling here.</p>
<p>It is important to note that not all Caribbean people who came to Australia in the 1960s and 1970s, were fleeing the region because of these shifts in power and political ideology; nor do they necessarily share the same political views as those who did. Some saw Victoria as providing greater job opportunities, or they had family or marital ties here.</p>
<p>But Australia was not the destination of choice for the majority of Caribbean people, because it was initially against their attempt to migrate. Instead they emigrated to the United States, Canada and the UK where there were and still are large Caribbean diasporic communities. </p>
<p>After the White Australia Policy was abolished in 1973 more Caribbean people migrated to Australia but mainly because they had met and married Australians, or because they had chosen Australia for work and/or educational purposes.</p>
<p>The Caribbean community in Victoria mainly comprises people (of many races and ethnicities) from the English-speaking or Commonwealth Caribbean, including some who identify as Black British of Caribbean descent. </p>
<p>Like adding pimento to Caribbean food, the Caribbean community has added yet another layer to multicultural Victoria.</p>
<p><br></p>
<p><em><a href="http://breakdownpress.org/?p=1124">Adding Pimento: Caribbean Migration to Victoria, Australia</a> (2014) is released today, Monday December 8.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/34654/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>CaribVic (the Caribbean Association of Australia) received a grant from the Victorian Multicultural Commission to publish Adding Pimento: Caribbean Migration to Victoria, Australia, of which I was an editor. I am also a member of CaribVic.</span></em></p>Growing up with a Jamaican grandmother in 1970s small-town Australia was unusual. There weren’t any other Caribbean (or West Indian) people living nearby and a Caribbean community did not exist in Newcastle…Karina Smith, Senior Lecturer, Literary and Gender Studies, Victoria UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.