AIME CESAIRE

Martinique wakes up to a world without Césaire

Monday 21 April 2008

One day after a state funeral honoured the life and achievements of Aimé Césaire, the poet's homeland Martinique resumes daily life.

Below our hotel the roar of the morning rush hour traffic rises up as vehicles snake their way through Martinique's capital, Fort-de-France.
 
Islanders are heading back to work after a weekend marked by an unprecedented state funeral for Aimé Césaire - known as the father of Martinique.
 
The hubub is a sharp contrast to the sombre mood which cloaked this French department over the weekend.
 
Usually the streets would be throbbing with islanders out for a good time.
 
But the weekend was effectively cancelled as people here plunged into national mourning.
 
Shops were boarded up and houses seemed empty, though many residents were simply inside watching and listening to the wall to wall tributes to Césaire on radio and TV.
 
At yesterday's ceremony attended by thousands of islanders and political and cultural figures from across the world, the mood was sombre.
 
One mourner told me this was highly unusual for Martinique: funerals here are normally celebratory in tone.
 
But the thousands who turned out must have sensed that a change of gear was appropriate once the service ended.
 
The Pierre Aliker stadium erupted as thousands of mourners rose to their feet to chant: "Bravo! Bravo, Césaire!" long after the former mayor's coffin was led shoulder high out of the ground.
 
And later in a very quiet Fort Royal, the mood remained upbeat.
 
At one of many cultural centres founded by Papa Césaire, a public wake was in full swing, with smiles and laughter accompanying the jazz music.
 
The 94-year-old has gone but his image is everywhere: at the airport which bears his name new arrivals are greeted by giant banners of the poet and excerpts of his poetry.
 
At the roundabout close to our hotel, we saw another giant billboard with Cesaire's photo and scores of people armed with cameras snapping away.
 
As for the future of Martinique, it's unclear whether the push for autonomy which formed a cornerstone of Césaire's life, will gain new momentum in the wake of his death.
 
Césaire was strongly anti-colonialist but didn't advocate full independence for Martinique.
 
As the passenger next to me on the flight out here put it: "People know that we need France to some extent. Our economy is struggling. We export very little - only bananas and a few other goods. Independence would be a blow economically;"
 
But there seems to be greater certainty that Césaire's death has renewed interest in his work, as is so often the case when writers pass away.
 
Hubert Felix-Nivert, standing in the long line of people waiting to pay homage to Césaire lying in state before his funeral, summed up this feeling: "This is a sad time for us in Martinique for sure. But I think that one good thing to come from his death is that children here will be asking who Césaire was and they'll want to read his poetry and his writing. We should remember that - it's good for the next generation."