“We cannot, and should not, forget”
Interview: Nandini Bhautoo

‘We must remember the immense hardship the indentured labourers endured, ultimately forging a new destiny through a resilient and persistent struggle’
* ‘Everyone should be celebrating what Aapravasi Ghat stands for: the ontology of our collective beginnings’
* ‘We must make culture a key driver of our next development phase, for true change begins with inner transformation’
The history of Mauritius is inextricably linked to the site now known as the Aapravasi Ghat, the entry point for nearly half a million indentured labourers. For generations, this history was marginalized, relegated to a footnote in a Eurocentric colonial narrative focused on ‘white gold’ and distant drawing rooms. To discuss the profound meaning of remembering this historical arrival — and how its legacy can forge a more inclusive future — we are joined by Nandini Bhautoo, Senior Lecturer in English and Cultural Studies, and an attentive observer of Mauritian history and culture who shares her personal views on the Aapravasi Ghat and offers a powerful argument for truly decolonizing our national memory.
Mauritius Times: What deeper significance does Aapravasi Day hold beyond the commemoration of a historical arrival? Why is it important to celebrate that momentous event and remember this chapter of our collective past?
Nandini Bhautoo: As I consider your question, memories come from my childhood — of adults speaking around me about the Immigration Depot or Immigration Square. They are but childhood memories, yet the terms themselves are significant.
For a long time, under the colonial administration, the landing site for the thousands of workers who came to enrich the sugar cane plantation in the nineteenth century was treated merely as an appendix. This history had been written not only from a Eurocentric perspective but also from the viewpoint of the landholders — those who had inherited the power to mint money by exploiting not just the land, but the tears, blood, and sweat of dehumanized workers. These labourers were seen as docile hands, whose only significance in the official tapestry of history was to help create “white gold,” as sugar became an increasingly priceless commodity in the drawing rooms of European gentry.
In the narrative, of colonialism, the opulence of the English drawing room was the centre of the world; those whose lives and opinions mattered. The place where the workers landed to enable this machinery to function and maintain its illusions was but a side note, existing on the dim margins of history. And yet, these people arrived with hopes, dreams, and aspirations, only to be thrust into a cruel, exploitative system that immediately dashed those prospects. This system instituted dramatic means of labour enforcement and punishment, including the double cut system, vagrancy laws, and strict control of mobility both within and outside the plantation.
* It appears that these laws were also applicable across all countries or former colonies who were made to receive Indian migrant workers for the same purpose of keeping afloat the plantation industry after the abolition of slavery. Is that correct?
Absolutely. In addition, the British were simultaneously implementing dehumanizing systems of social control in nineteenth-century India to manage what they viewed as an unmanageable population fractured by innumerable subdivisions and intrinsic community customs. These customs, which often served as protective networks of support, were entirely incomprehensible to the foreign powers.
In this context, the British Colonial Powers implemented the cruel Criminal Tribes Act of 1871 (CTA), a law that sought to control all nomadic and marginalized communities by branding them as criminals from birth. It is probable that this, in addition to Churchill’s documented role in artificially created famine as well as the exploitation of land for the cultivation of Indigo, Opium, and Tobacco — which rendered agrarian land infertile or unavailable for rotational food crops — are some of the push factors which led to the massive migration of land workers overseas as indentured labourers. It is documented that Winston Churchill, often viewed as a great hero of the British narrative, diverted Indian food supplies to Europe in a supreme display of racist indifference.
It is because they were pushed to despair that these impoverished nineteenth-century people left en masse, but overseas they endured a continuation of colonial exploitation. However, despite all, they survived and created worlds through endurance, perseverance, faith, and hope. They survived through both state indifference and racial prejudice, which, as the history of twentieth-century Mauritius shows, did not disappear in the mists of the nineteenth century. They endured and built worlds with their sweat and blood, saved to buy land, and worked to ensure that their future generations would live better lives than they did. So, why should we not honour these pioneers? Through sheer grit, they carved a place for themselves and their descendants.
We cannot, and should not, forget. We must remember the immense hardship they endured, ultimately forging a new destiny for themselves, their descendants, and the country through a resilient and persistent struggle within a democratic framework.
I understand that November 2ndwas not chosen by a sheer throw of the dice to commemorate the indenture arrival day; it was the day when the first ship docked and the first step on the new land was taken. And in this regard, it is important to emphasise that what the Aapravasi Ghat has become today– a recognized heritage landmark with UNESCO World Heritage status — did not come about on its own.
You know more than anyone that it was B. Ramlallah’s efforts which helped lift the site out of the oblivion it had fallen into: first by bringing a group of volunteers to clear the rubble, then by negotiating to find a place to keep what was left of the immigration documents which had been left to scatter to the vagaries of the tropical weather, and, above all, he exerted a lot of effort to have the site recognized as a landmark in the history of the country. It is most probable that without his persistent efforts, the site would have fallen into oblivion by now, knowing as we do the attitudes of the colonial government at the time.
* What does it mean, today, to be the inheritor of “The Great Experiment,” and how can that inheritance inspire a more inclusive national narrative?
The Great Experiment was the code name for the massive export of Indian labourers overseas to work in the sugar plantations which had been deserted following the abolition of slavery. It was presented as supposedly more humane, based on a sort of contract — ‘Girmit’ in the words of the Indo-Fijians. But we all know the conditions of labour were exploitative and dehumanized these workers through many disciplinary strategies.
Historians point out that prior to the arrival of massive waves of indentured labourers, there were stonemasons and road workers who were brought in earlier, under French rule. Later in the twentieth century, a class of merchants, mostly from Surat, ventured into Indian Ocean trade, from the Eastern shores of Africa to the Western Indian Ocean. Those who docked here were the names behind the major Indo-Mauritian trading houses, which rivalled local European trading houses. But the real demographic shift came with the indentured labourers. There were so many of them. One tally says 450,000 poor souls crossed the “Kalapani” in conditions of opprobrium, from both the place they left and where they were going to.
The appellation ‘The Great Experiment’ is as ironical a term as can be. Experiments are made to try out systems to test whether they work and are shelved afterwards. Except in this case, the very expression shows the dehumanization that was inbuilt in the system from the beginning. If the experiment had not worked, it would have been shelved, and the lives of people tossed aside. Except, these people survived, fought the system as they could, emerged out of the five-year contract having scrimped through beatings and torture, and were sold land with little arable value, which they turned fruitful by dint of hard work.
Richard Allen traces the circumstances in which the indentured labourers were able to move out of the frozen world of the plantation when falling sugar prices forced big landowners to sell their land to pay debts. Often, these were the worst portions of land, on mountain sides, or the least arable sectors. That is why we have such an important population of early Indian settlers in Crève Coeur, Long Mountain, and Les Guibies.
This is our history, and by this, I mean not just the history of the descendants of these pioneers. Their sweat and tears are woven into the tapestry of our collective history and should be celebrated by one and all, in the same way as we are all ready to celebrate the China Town Festival or Zournée International Kreol. Although the denominations are linguistic, cultural, and historical, the fact remains that the onset of these presences on the national territory was through forced subaltern experiences, which survived colonialism to become the testimonies of resilience across time. So, realistically speaking, everyone should be celebrating what Aapravasi Ghat stands for: the ontology of our collective beginnings.
* Social reality does not change overnight. What would be the areas where we would still need to devote our attention to ensure thorough decolonisation process?
It’s good that you ask this question. I would like here to make a point about our current language reality in relation to the many inheritances that exist n the national tapestry. The current linguistic system we have inherited, and which is perpetuated through our schooling system, is very much a legacy of colonisation. Gauri Vishwanathan says in Masks of Conquest that the political retreat of colonialism does not imply an immediate withdrawal or disappearance of the mental, social, and intellectual structures attached to it. In that sense, the imbrication of languages within our education system and its ramifications into society at large is a case in point. Any observer takes the following for granted — the main languages of instruction are the two major European languages, and everything else exists as peripheral elements within the system.
And yet, what is becoming increasingly obvious is that the emotional and affective power of these languages, which are lumped together in typical colonial style as ‘Oriental languages,’ have greater affective and emotional value in the lives of people. The incredible transformations of culture, language, and society taking place across the Indian subcontinent have seen a proud celebration of the place of their various indigenous languages in the national debate.
However, when it comes to Mauritius, the emotional and affective ties are left at the doors of the educational institutions, and young people have to see their home world acquire minority status on a day-to-day basis. In the collective imagination, therefore, the languages of the home world are peripheralised, despite the strong emotional charge they transmit. The memorialization of place, which is symbolized by the celebration of the Aapravasi Ghat as a monument to the towering power of the past, needs to be extended to a reinvention of the pedagogy and practice of Indian languages both within and outside our school systems. I do realize that what I am saying here is easier imagined in theory than in practice, but the journey of decolonization is not over, and this is something which we will need to think over for the future.
* There’s a dichotomy in the way scholars talk about the historical memory preserved at sites like the Aapravasi Ghat. Western scholars always try to link it to the transnational political angle and how the site relates to social control, native scholars focusing on agency and oral memory. Is there work to be done here in ensuring a more inclusive narrative as we celebrate memory?
Rightly said, this dichotomy is glaring and uncomfortable because the discourse which is being circulated in the international academic world leaves out or ignores the intergenerational tales and affective memory which have been passed down in families, about the way these dire days impacted the lives of the elders. When you talk about a ‘more inclusive national narrative’ above, I suppose you are not taking the track of Western Indologists who are prone to see any manifestation of Indian identity as problematic, as they would rather see a subjugated narrative that shows the Indian component of our hyphened identities as subordinate to the mainstream Western narrative. Under this aegis, it becomes an easy shortcut to privilege languages that seem closer to the Western mainstream, rather than those which have been ‘othered’ through two centuries of failed effective decolonization of our mental structures.
Inclusiveness here should mean the director of Radio One should be able to at least understand basic Bhojpuri and/or Hindi when he launches a book on Bhojpuri, that the translation does not always have to be in one direction, that when parliamentarians choose to occasionally express themselves in Bhojpuri it need not always seen be as a political manoeuvre that can lead to backlash.
* What lessons might Mauritius draw from other multicultural societies in transforming historical wounds into collective strength?
Terms do not exist in a vacuum. When multiculturalism is used in Western societies, it presupposes an unequal hierarchy between mainstream cultures and the other cultures that enter the national tapestry later. Whereas in a country like ours, a multiculturalism of a different order exists, where there is closer parity between the various components of the nation, each with their areas of strength, each with their limits and/or potential for improvement.
Although we certainly have a lot to learn from other nations, it might also be true that the world might have a lot to learn from us, for despite our propensity to criticize from the inside, there is a lot that does work in the country. These days, we are all concerned with the Malagasy axis, and commentators from Madagascar have been lauding the way in which the justice system seems to work here, compared to their world.
Despite all that could and should be improved, it is clear that as a multicultural country, we learn from each other and self-correct as we go along, and that the strength of our democratic system seems for now to be resisting the temptation of counter-democratic takeover.
However, we should not only be patting ourselves on the back. For there is a lot still to be done. Historical lenses allow us not to lose sight of where we come from, but we have to relentlessly work to improve the future. And in this context, it is good to emphasise that societies cannot change unless human beings are given the power to introspect and change. Otherwise, we circularly repeat the same behaviour patterns and perpetuate unchanging societal realities.
You mentioned compartmentalization of memories. This could have been one of our strengths for a while, for the last six decades or so, but as we look towards the future, maybe we should look beyond compartmentalization to ensure that the collective power of all celebrations is truly integrated.
And for this, we would need to walk back on the entrenched division that has been instituted with the establishment of many forms of divisions and subdivisions through the various cultural centres. These have functioned both as a means of identity recognition and as political tools, instrumentalising voting power. Up to this point in our national history, it has proved effective to a certain extent. However, as we advertise ourselves as a vibrant multicultural nation, we should offer ourselves public spaces for the celebration of this multiculturalism by the juxtaposition of the various inheritances within the same spatial and cultural temporality.
About six decades into independence, one has the impression that everybody is at a loss — we know in theory that we have to come up with a new paradigm for national development, but nobody really knows what to do. Once we have dealt with the Economy, Technology, Social, and Historical data collection — nobody has a plan or vision of how to begin societal transformation, which should start from the human being outwards, not the other way round.
This might be an idealistic take, but I think we need to focus on Culture as a major asset for this next phase of development — in a big way. It’s by transforming the individual from the inside that society genuinely changes; failing that, we are condemned to repeating the same old paradigms and reproduced, rehearsed actions and attitudes. We have the illusion that social identity is finite, but both social sciences and spirituality say that social identity is but a construct — a construct in which we become trapped, thus solidifying our own mental prisons.
* It is a tall order to think of a National Cultural Centre, given the complexity of our national tapestry, isn’t it?
Certainly a tall order, but not an impossible one. If a public space of sharing exists, in the form of a cultural centre, properly managed, it would do the following:
* Provide education and entertainment as an alternative to capitalist shopping centres.
* Encourage people to move out of the margins of their known world by discovering other realities, other truths.
* Help find solutions to major social issues by opening avenues of dialogue on bullying, femicide, drug addiction, violence.
* Bolster the economy by creating jobs and generating revenue through concerts, drama, performances.
* Give students something to look forward to as potential careers.
* Draw the interest of tourists as a major venue that intelligently allies East and West– by bringing talent from India, Africa, China, South East Asia, Australia, Europe, Russia, etc. (Embassies would no doubt be eager and ready to help).
* Help develop folk art, both local and through exposure to international talents.
* Create an interest around local performances — use drama properly managed through Forum theatre, street theatre (with specialists in the field) to open avenues of dialogue and reflection and re-educate people at all ages.
* Help create a local film industry with local talent and overseas expertise — through the potential strategic collaboration of existing film schools and streaming platforms. Here the reference is to the way in which Doordarshan used Hum Log for Nation Building back in the eighties, by dealing with issues of pressing social concerns.
But I do realise even as I enumerate these that it would take a lot to make such a vision happen. So, let us leave it at that as a possible future project for Mauritian society. Because we need to find ways to get out of the divisive structures through which the nation has evolved up to now, be it along the barriers of race, gender, language, and creed.
In an ideal scenario, this should be done through education, but as it is, there are too many vested interests in perpetuating the education system with all its failings. That is why we should begin to think of an alternative that would target all levels of society, across the rural-urban divide.
* How might future generations reinterpret the legacy of indenture and slavery in light of globalisation and modern migration patterns, and what responsibilities do present generations bear to ensure the continued prosperity and progress of this community?
While modern discussions — in both politics and academia — often focus on the “transnational migrant” who supposedly lives free of national borders, we shouldn’t fully accept this ideal. Nation-states will continue to exist, and a person’s identity and opportunities will always be heavily influenced by the strength of their state of origin.
The new patterns of twenty-first-century migration are very different from the harsh plantation labour migrations of the nineteenth century. However, we should not push the responsibility for current societal problems onto future generations. Instead, we are all collectively responsible for facing the complex structural and social issues we’ve inherited. Our shared goal is to resolve these issues, ensuring that true equality defines our future.
Mauritius Times ePaper Friday 31 October 2025
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