PART ONE
Le MĂ©tissage: A Colonial Social Problem
ONE
An Imperial Question
In the late nineteenth century, mĂ©tissage (âracial mixingâ) was not a new phenomenon in France. Representations of it go back a long way, to the early days of European colonization. Perceptions of mĂ©tissage, however, changed significantly in the second half of the century, with the formation of the new French Empire. These were shaped by increasingly influential social sciences, especially anthropology. By the end of the period of colonial conquests in the 1890s, mĂ©tissage had become an issue of the utmost importance throughout the empire. Its forms varied from colony to colony, yet colonial actors clearly felt that they were dealing with an issue of imperial scale and significance.
New Empire, New Question
As early as the seventeenth century, people had begun to use words drawn from the lexicon of animal breeding to describe the offspring of Europeans and the natives of the New World. In French the most common terms were mĂ©tis, mulĂątre (âmulattoâ), and sang-mĂȘlĂ© (âmixed bloodâ).1
In the first half of the nineteenth century, men and women of color in the colonies became familiar figures in popular literature. In a volume entitled Les Français peints par eux-mĂȘmes (1842), for instance, the mulĂątre appeared among the classic types of provincial Frenchmenâthe Breton, the Roussillonnais, the BĂ©arnais, and the Dauphinois.2 A mĂ©tis was the tragic hero Alexandre Dumasâs novel Georges, published in 1843 and set in Mauritius. Serialized popular fiction featured plots built around the ambiguous appearance of mulatto characters: in the volumes of EugĂšne Sueâs MystĂšres de Paris that came out in 1842 and 1843, CĂ©cily, a former slave from the American South, plays a major role passing as an Alsatian. The mulatto doctor in Ponson du Terrailâs Rocambole (published between 1857 and 1870) knows the secrets of various medicinal plants, including some that can âerase the most indelible tattoos.â
In the nineteenth century, however, it was above all anthropology that appropriated the theme of métissage. At midcentury, métissage played a central role in a debate between monogenists, proponents of the unity of the human race, and polygenists, who argued that different races have distinct sources. The arguments of both camps can be traced back to the naturalist Georges-Louis Leclerc de Buffon, who had argued that species are defined by the ability of members to produce fertile offspring: monogenists insisted that racial hybrids were viable, fertile, and therefore valuable, while polygenists argued that interbreeding led to sterility and deformity and therefore that the distance between the races was insurmountable.3 The physician and anatomist Paul Broca revived this debate with his early work and used the rejection of a paper on métissage by the Biology Society as a pretext for founding the Paris Anthropological Society in 1859.4 This society played a central role in the development of physical anthropology as an autonomous discipline.5
A confirmed polygenist, Broca questioned the universality of âinterfertilityâ and suggested that, depending on the proximity of the races involved, hybrids could be either âsterile,â âdysgenesic,â âpartially fertile,â or âeugenesic.â Using these distinctions, he was able to condemn the mixing of âdistant racesâ and to promote âeugenesicâ mixing. By showing that the French population was the result of a harmonious cross between Celts and Kymris, he lent scientific support to the celebration of the âFrench melting pot,â a central feature of the nineteenth-century republican representation of French history.6 One also finds this theme in nineteenth-century historical writingâin Jules Micheletâs description of France as a âperson,â for example, or Charles Seignobosâs characterization of the French as a âpeople of mĂ©tis.â7
The general tendency was nevertheless pessimistic: in the final decades of the nineteenth century, the vast majority of the many anthropological studies of hybridization stressed the deficiencies of the mĂ©tis. The figure of the monstrous freak, which had fascinated the eighteenth century, gave way to a new theme: physical and moral degeneracy due to the conflict of heredities. For instance, at the Second International Congress of Criminal Anthropology in 1889, ClĂ©mence Royer, a female philosopher and scientist and Darwinâs French translator, proposed that an investigation of the genealogy of criminals would reveal large numbers of hybrids: âIndeed, it is only natural to expect that in the offspring of very diverse races, with different habits, mores, and social instincts, the vast difference in moral heredity will result in mutual cancellation, as when forces of opposite sign are added together to yield zero.â8
Between the two world wars, this argument was enthusiastically embraced by psychiatrists, who appropriated the theme of mĂ©tissage and linked it to the question of immigration, both European and colonial. In the 1920s, Dr. Edgar BĂ©rillon claimed in a series of publications on âthe psychobiological problem of racial mixingâ that observing the offspring of mixed marriages between French and immigrants had convinced him âthat in our European environment, the crossing of antagonistic races, even when the skin color of the individuals involved was the same, yielded offspring of obvious inferiority with respect to health and resistance to disease as well as to morality.â9
A few years later, Dr. Georges Heuyer, one of the founders of child psychiatry and a pioneer in the field of âmaladapted childhood,â noted that âthe number of offspring of marriages between Arab men and French women is large,â so it would be wise to determine âwhether it is a good idea or a bad one to encourage natives of the colonies to come to France and marry French women.â On this basis, he launched an investigation into âthe important question of whether the mĂ©tis is capable of social adaptation.â He studied the offspring of marriages between âFrenchâ and âChinese,â âIndochinese,â âMartiniquais,â âMuslim Arab,â âIndian,â âmixed blood,â and âmĂ©tis from Madagascar and RĂ©unionâ and found âcharacter troublesâ in all of the adolescents he examined.10
Denunciation of the consequences of racial mixing grew louder in the 1930s among a small group of doctors who posed as experts on immigration. Among them was René Martial, the longtime director of the Douai department of public hygiene and later marine health inspector, who also began teaching a course in anthropology at the Paris Faculty of Medicine in 1938.11
Alongside this dominant line of criticism, another school of thought emerged around the view that racial mixing could produce offspring âsuperior to the mother races.â This idea was first formulated by Armand de Quatrefages, a contemporary of Broca and an ardent defender of the monogenist line, who argued that, among other things, the mĂ©tis was generally more resistant to the tropical climate than his European father. Between the two world wars, another variant of the racial-mixing theme gained currency on the fringes of physical anthropology: a critique of theories of race as static, unchanging formations, which began with a reflection on the âvalueâ of children of mixed race.12 After World War II, this idea would be taken up by various antiracist groups such as UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization).13 The universality of racial mixing was seen as an important argument not against the existence of races but against the idea that there exists a racial hierarchy.
Yet although these debates agitated scientific circles, they attracted little attention in the colonies. When colonials discussed racial mixing, they rarely referred to anthropological concepts and never cited anthropologists.14 Evidence that the concerns of Parisian scholars aroused little interest in the colonies can be seen in the low response rate to a âquestionnaire on the mĂ©tisâ sent out by the Paris Anthropology Society in 1908, even though it was transmitted through the colonial administration.15 For anthropologists in France, the colonies served mainly as a laboratory, providing a vast reservoir of samples for the study of interbreeding, just like other historical examples of conquests and migratory movements. For the most part, these scholars had little interest in what was distinctive about the history, politics, or social aspects of racial mixing in the French Empire.
Yet colonials were well aware of the phenomenon. Instead of looking at it in physiological terms, however, they were mainly interested in its implications for colonial rule. This was already the case by the middle of the nineteenth century, after Africa had become a focal point of colonization. Colonial administrators like Louis Faidherbe looked to generalized racial mixing as a way of âregeneratingâ the African races.16
Things changed further toward the end of the century: the proximity of the colonizers to the natives lost favor, and the segregation of populations became a stronger norm. Racial mixing ceased to be a desired goal and began to be presented as an âagonizing problem,â which was soon subdivided into three subproblems: âhuman,â âsocial,â and âpolitical.â In the 1890s, interested actors in the colonies began to describe the situation of mixedrace children, usually abandoned by their European fathers, as an injustice. Their status was said to be that of âoutcastsâ17 or âpariahs,â18 caught between colonizers and colonized. Their discontent was perceived as a threat to the colonial order.
In short, the phenomenon of mĂ©tissage acquired a new face: it became the âmĂ©tis question,â which, as we shall see, shared many features with the âsocial questionââthe political and moral threat posed by the rise of an industrial working classâthat was such a central feature of nineteenth-century culture. The new formula was associated with what is called the âsecond colonial empire,â which historians traditionally date from 1830. Colonial rule was now legitimated by the assertion of a hierarchical difference between colonizers and colonized, the reproduction of which the colonial authorities were constantly at pains to assure.19 By blurring this crucial dividing line, the existence of the mĂ©tis posed a problem of classification and threatened the stability of the most basic categories of the colonial social order. That is why the mĂ©tis question would continue to be raised in more or less the same terms from the end of the nineteenth century to the eve of decolonization. Observers considered it âundoubtedly a human and charitable question, as well as a social question, a question of reason, and a question of politics. Throwing into the colonial mix an individual of mixed race, out of step with both colonizers and colonized, raises serious issues that justified the intervention of the authorities.â20 Over the next decades, actors from both within and without the colonial state intervened continually to resolve these âissues.â
Hybrids and Bastards
The new view of racial mixing did not apply uniformly to all offspring of colonial sexual encounters. The mĂ©tis question referred only to hybrids who were also âbastardsââunrecognized by their European fathers. The relatively few children who were born from the legitimate union of a colonial male and a native female or, still more rarely, of a European female and a native male, were not a problem. Indeed, they were rarely referred to as mĂ©tis at all. Thus, in a discussion of the mĂ©tis question, the president of the Society for the Assistance of Abandoned Franco-Indochinese Children declared that he was ânot speaking here of the children of regular Franco-indigenous unions whose families are taking care of them nor of illegitimate children whose fathers have acknowledged them and not abandoned them.â21 These âunproblematicâ mĂ©tis were not very visible in colonial society and have left few traces in the archives.
Still, the condition of the mĂ©tis was not defined solely by their status as illegitimate children: they bore both physical and social stigma and could not hide from âthe presumption of bastardy that marked their features.â22 An article published in a popular Indochinese newspaper in the 1920s stated:
In the home country, legal steps have been taken to counter outdated prejudices and cruel hypocrisy with effective measures to protect illegitimate childrenâa phrase which not so very long ago was capable of provoking an outcry in certain segments of society. In the colonies, the question is more complex: the illegitimate child, generally born out of wedlock to a native woman and a European father, is also of mixed blood (mĂ©tis). In the battle of life, there is nothing to distinguish the illegitimate child in France from others around him, or later from other men. His status is merely a matter of how his birth is recorded. In the case of the mĂ©tis, however, the mixing of two races is indelibly inscribed in his features, and diverse emotions will at various times contend within his bosom.23
Situated at this intersection of illegitimacy and hybridity, the condition of the métis placed the racial question squarely in the realm of law.
The Law Takes Up a Social Question
In the twentieth century, the ideal type of colonial métis combined illegitimate birth with nonrecognition and abandonment by a European father. A...