November 01, 2008
The Metaphorical Zombie
In the series of articles published thus far on this site, I have argued that the idea of the existence of a real zombie in flesh and blood is just that: an idea, a figment of the imagination born out of the wholesale embrace of the supernatural notions found in Haitian mythology and related Voodoo beliefs. In the present article, I intend to show how metaphors, myths, truths , half-truths or plain ignorance of the facts, all merge in the seamless narrative that forms the walking-dead story, as chronicled in various anthropological studies, and taken for true around the world.
According to a text authored by James Dilworth, to make a zombie, a Voodoo priest administers to the intended victim a potion that had been laced with the pufferfish toxin, causing severe damage to his central nervous system, particularly to his left brain. The victim becomes lethargic; his vital signs (pulse and respiration) slow down and become altogether undetectable; he is thus taken for dead, and is buried by his grieving family. Then, under the cover of darkness, the Voodoo practitioner and his cohort tiptoe their way into the graveyard, steal the victim's remains, revive him and take him away to work as a zombie-slave.
"At one time," Dilworth asserts, "most of the slaves who worked on the sugar cane plantations of Haiti were zombies. One case in 1918 had a Voodoo priest named Ti Joseph who ran a gang of laborers for the American Sugar Corporation; Ti Joseph took the money earned by these zombies and fed them unsalted porridge. A zombie will remain in a robot-like state indefinitely until he tastes either salt or meat. Then he becomes aware of his condition and returns to the grave."
This Ti Joseph story is typical of the kind of folk tales that run wild across Haiti and end up being taken seriously by the foreign media which are all too eager to report these fantastic stories, casting Haiti as a "mysterious country" where the dead roams freely amidst the general population, holding, at times, "respectable jobs" in the national economy. In fact, Ti Joseph may or may not have fed his men "unsalted porridge; we will never know for sure. If he did, however, we can be certain that it was not to prevent them from returning to their graves; rather, it would have been another case of Caesar being cheated out of his due in a foolish attempt to save a few pennies.
To understand how such stories originate, it is important to have a working knowledge of labor relations in Haiti, particularly as it relates to the agricultural industry. For beginners, it should be pointed out that when large numbers of laborers are needed, say, during harvest time, landowners routinely hire independent contractors to assemble the necessary work force on their behalf. In the rural areas, these independent contractors are usually the local houngans (voodoo priests) who, by the sheer weight of their reputation and clout in their community, control everything from being the position of Town Sheriff (Chef de Section) to Charlatan (Docteur-feuille) to Reverend-Minister. In general, these houngans receive a negotiated lump sum which includes not only the totality of the workers' wages, but also the estimated cost of feeding them for the duration of the work period.
The food clause is an important element of the agreement between the parties, because the workers are, in general, desperately poor men and women who can ill-afford to buy foods, while the landowners have a vested interest in keeping them well-fed and vigorous, able to work from dawn to dust. Unfortunately, this is just a handshake understanding, and in a country like Haiti that does not provide any form of institutional protection against workers abuse or exploitation, more often than not these men end up getting the shaft in these transactions. In lieu of nourishing meals, they are usually fed plain porridge (mayi moulin), which fills one's stomach, appeases hunger, but has no nutritive value beyond its caloric input. Mayi Moulin is indeed the cheapest food staple in Haiti; it is the main staple of the poor. Meat is often excluded simply to contain cost.
So, it is quite plausible that the sugar cane workers alluded to in Dilworth's article were, in fact, fed plain porridge. The main question is whether the porridge was, truly, totally unsalted or, perhaps, salted, but not enough to satisfy the workers' taste and, thus was said to be "totally unsalted" in a fit of exaggeration, or just to stress the point. In any case, it is absurd to think that the workers were deprived of salt to prevent them from "returning to their graves" as the story goes. This is absolute nonsense.
Salt depletion and dehydration is, indeed, a constant threat to anyone toiling under the hot tropical sun of Haiti. Without adequate salt (electrolytes) and water replacement throughout the workday, these men would have become weak, lethargic and unable to work. Eventually, they would become completely incapacitated; some would collapse unconscious; others would just drop dead. Needless to say, it would not be in the best interest of the landowners to be tightfisted with the salt; no matter how cruel or stingy they may be, they cannot be that stupid! Nobody can survive on unsalted porridge only! The unsalted-porridge story is therefore a myth.
Moreover, upon completion of the job, many of the workers are, often, not paid at all while others are given a pittance that amounts to a few cents per diem over the course of the contract. The contractor essentially pockets all the money; and the workers are left holding the bag, which is to say, they had indeed been tricked into working as slaves. And when your grievance is against someone who is in touch with a pantheon of gods, and is, in addition, vested with the authority of the State - as the houngan usually is - you are not just limited in your options; you are totally out of luck!
Hence, it is not without reason that these unfortunate men who ordinarily have no earthly possession of any kind - except for the skin they were born with - are viewed by their peers as people who, essentially, sold their soul to the devil for a bowl of porridge and came out looking gaunt, worn-down, dazed, like real zombies returning from the proverbial hell. This is the zombie metaphor the meaning of which is so often overlooked by those who report these fantastic stories of dead people "leading normal lives," without ever pausing to ask, "How, in the world, is it possible for severely brain-damaged people to be leading normal lives?"
Also lost in their narrative is the fact that Haitians are fantastic storytellers who take infinite delight in recounting fictitious tales as if they were real, embellishing the narrative at every turn for increased dramatic impact. The constant intermingling of fiction with reality, the ever present specter of the unreal in Haitian life is, in fact, enshrined in Haiti's epic struggle for independence. It is arguably a defining cultural heritage.
According to the historical record, the ragtag army of slaves did not simply outmaneuver the elite French army on the battlefield. Many Haitians are convinced that divine protection afforded by the Voodoo deities played a decisive role in the final outcome of the war of liberation and independence. The Bois-Caiman sacrificial ceremony on the eve of the general uprising stands as a pivotal event and a reminder of the role of Voodoo in the Revolution and foreshadows the subsequent influence of Voodoo in Haitian popular culture. Indeed, many Haitiens believe that as a result of that memorable Voodoo consecration, a number of inexplicable events occurred which confounded the French, not the least of all was the battlefield exploits of the Haitian General Capois-la-Mort (Capois-The-Dead) at the final battle in Vertieres.
Ordered to capture the last French bastion in the North, General Capois, as he advanced, was hit repeatedly by French artillery bullets that sent him and his horse to the ground, apparently dead. One bullet, it is reported, went straight through his hat. To the surprise of his men, Capois fell on several occasions, but kept getting up. Jumping on a new horse, he urged his men to go "Forward!" and to not be afraid of bullets. The French could not believe their eyes. Is it possible that General Capois (1) was under the protection of Baron Samedi and Guede Nibo, the spirits of the dead? The answer to this question is really irrelevant.
General Rochambeau, the French artillery commander, mesmerized by this incredible display of "heroism," called on his troops to momentarily hold their fire, and, in an act of gallantry unprecedented in the history of warfare, he dispatched a French Honor Guard to pay homage to General Capois, presenting him with a magnificent horse to continue the cavalry assault on the French position. Following this brief show of civility, the battle resumed as fiercely as before, but General Rochambeau soon recognized the predicament he was in when Capois and his men, oblivious of the dead and wounded, kept advancing on the French position as if propelled by some unstoppable force. Rochambeau then waved the white flag. And thus was born the Haitian nation, the only nation in the world that came into being as a result of a successful slave revolution.
This is how Haitians write or tell stories: with a flair for the fantastic and the grandiose! Anyone sifting through the Haitian web of fantastic tales, trying to sort out what is theater, what is allegory, and what might actually be true, faces a real challenge, particularly when he/she must overcome the all too human temptation to believe in superstitions.
1. http://thelouvertureproject.org/index.php?title=Fran%C3%A7ois_Capois_'La_Mort'