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Dreams of Africa in Alabama: The Slave Ship Clotilda and the Story of the Last Africans Brought to America
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by Sylviane Diouf |
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Oxford Univ. Press, $30, 340pp |
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ISBN: 9780195311044 |
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Review by Sylvie Kande´ |
 | Through Sheer Wit and Will...
Readers familiar with Zora Neale Hurston’s autobiographical work, Dust Tracks on a Road (1942), remember her striking relation of the life story of Cudjo Lewis, aka Kossola-O-Lo-Loo-ay – a man who, according to her, had arrived in 1859 “on the last load of slaves run into the United States and was the only Negro alive [in the late 1920s] that came over on a slave ship.” Hurston’s additional accounts of Cudjo’s itinerary -- most notably, an article entitled “Cudjo’s own story of the last African slaver” published in the Journal of Negro History and an as yet unpublished book-length manuscript, Barracoon, held by the Moorland-Spingarn Research Center at Howard Univ-ersity – are part of a rich collection of texts de-voted to what is, in historian Sylviane Diouf’s terms, “probably the best-documented story of the American slave trade,” yet ironically one of the least known. Sylviane Diouf’s Dreams of Africa in Alabama is a comprehensive and meticulous study of the historical causes and individual agencies that, in the summer of 1860, brought one hundred and ten people (among whom Oluale Kossola aka Cudjo Lewis and his future wife Abile) from the Bight of Benin to Mobile, Alabama on the Clotilda, a schooner owned by planter Timothy Meaher and commanded by his business partner, Captain Willliam Foster. It evokes the circumstances that presided over the Africans’ emancipation after almost five years of enslavement, and details the limited opportunities and numerous constraints that defined their new lives as freed-men and wo-men in the South and as naturalized American citizens. Her work illuminates the motivations of a core group of shipmates to acquire land in the vicinity of the Meaher plantation, and to create a closely-knit community in a fairly in-sulated space, while actively looking for the means to “return home.” The epilogue takes a look at Africatown, still in existence today with 3,000 inhabitants, and its ongoing fight to pre-serve this rich heritage, obtain official recog-nition of its historical significance, and derive new revenues from it, against wide-spread neglect and vandalism, internal feuds, and industrial encroachment. To flesh out the story of the last Africans brought to the United States, Diouf blends international, local and personal history. She describes the transition in mid-19th century Dahomey between King Ghezo and King Glèlè, and its impact on the kingdom’s involve-ment with tolerated slave trading towards Cuba, and “illegal” slave trading towards other regions of the Americas. She proceeds to cor-relate these West African and Caribbean de-velopments with the revival in the South of the United States of the proposition to reopen the international slave trade. A depiction of the economic role and social climate of 19th cen-tury Mobile, nicknamed Cotton City, throws light on the recent family history, commercial success and political connections of Timothy Meaher whose scheme to import Africans half a century after the official abolition of slave trade, and a year and a half after the return of The Wanderer, was implemented with com-plete impunity, and later on, openly glorified. In contrast with his ability to manipulate the legal system, the Clotilda shipmates who entered in the United States at the bottom of the social ladder had their lives shaped by the major po-litical and economic events that they witness-ed – the Civil War, the abolition of slavery, the Reconstruction era and the Jim Crow laws, the Alabama convict leasing system, the Great Depression, the Great Migration, etc. Click to comment on this book or review on QBR BLACK INK, our blogspot.

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However oppressive the Africans’ circumstances were, they emerge in Diouf’s essay, not as victims, but rather as unsung common folk of extraordinary resilience who man-aged not only to survive, but to re-tain a relative economic autonomy and to instill ethic standards of pride, reserve and rectitude in their surroundings. The author excels at reconstituting their collective philo-sophy and dreams, sharp indivi-dualities, and personal triumphs and tragedies. She reports for in-stance, the shipmates’ rule of mutual protection from physical abuse on the plantation; and Cudjo’s audacious attempt, as the group’s spokesperson, to obtain from Meaher, their ex-owner, re-paration for their deportation and enslavement under the form of a land grant. She describes their con-version to Christianity, an undoubt-edly complex process through which they, as Muslims like Zuma, as servants of the orisas like Kupollee aka Pollee, or as prac-titioners of local worships as the majority of the group abandoned their former religious systems of thought; and also the letter of can-didacy as missionaries to Liberia that was written on their behalf in 1873 by preacher A. D. Phillips to the American Colonization Society. Their triumphs are well illustrated by the flourishing of their com-munity, in spite of all odds: at the end of the first decade of the 20th century, “African Town was wel-coming a fourth generation into the world and its founders were reach-ing the ends of their lives,” Diouf stresses. Cudjo himself, after los-ing his wife and six children over the course of fifteen years, still had four grand-children and four great-grandchildren, and passed away in 1935 at 94. Similarly to her previous historical essay, Servants of Allah: African Muslims Enslaved in the Americas (NYU Press, 1998), Diouf’s Dreams of Africa in Alabama is a major contribution to pan-African and Black trans-Atlan-tic studies, with its emphasis on the historical and cultural cross-currents in which the story of the Clotilda’s shipmates is steeped. Accordingly, the “West African origins” of the shipmates are the object of a thorough examination. Evidence regarding the ethno-linguistic, religious and social background of the shipmates en-ables Diouf to establish that the majority of those hundred and ten deportees were Yoruba-speakers, that is, hailing from a region located in today’s nation of Benin, which did not traditionally supply the United States with slaves. Moreover, Diouf, impervious to trendy theories that privilege exile over home, routes over roots, shows that the deportees, regard-less of their various accomplish-ments, never “recovered from the shock of their capture, their separation from their families, and the Middle Passage”. Dreams of Africa in Alabama reads as a novel, yet it is the product of rigorous research (performed both in the United States and in Benin) as attested to by the prominent place allotted to archival material in the bibliography. As we are celebrating the bicen-tennial of the official abolition of slave trade by Great Britain and the United States, Dreams of Africa in Alabama offers an invaluable window into the experience of no less than twelve million African deportees onto the Americas.
Sylvie KANDÉ is an Associate Professor who teaches African Studies at SUNY Old Westbury. She is the author of Terres, urbanisme et architecture ‘créoles’ en Sierra Leone, 18ème-19ème siècles (Paris: L’Harmattan, 1998), Discours sur le métissage, identités métisses. En quête d’Ariel (Paris: L’Harmattan, 1999) and Lagon, lagunes, a long piece of poetic prose published in 2000 by Gallimard, with an afterword by Edouard Glissant. |