By Alyssa A. L. James
Alyssa A. L. James, Ph.D. is a Jamaican Canadian anthropologist and postdoctoral fellow at the University of Southern California’s Society of Fellows in the Humanities. Her research explores the intersections of food, agriculture, and heritage in the Caribbean, focusing on Martinique’s efforts to revive its historic Arabica typica coffee production. Dr. James earned her Ph.D. in anthropology from Columbia University and writes about Caribbean food, heritage, and agricultural history. Learn more at aaljames.com.
Politically European but culturally Caribbean, Martinique often finds itself on the periphery of both regional and international consciousness. Recent events, however, should draw our collective attention: the island’s ongoing protests against the skyrocketing cost of living stand as a harbinger of the struggles—and possibilities—that await our shared Caribbean future.
Since September 2024, Martinicans have been embroiled in an uprising sparked by economic inequity, exacerbated by soaring food prices. Known locally as the Vie Chère (high cost-of-living) protests, this movement both mirrors and transcends global discontent over rising living costs and neoliberal economic policies. At its heart is a fundamental fight for dignity, autonomy, and justice with a particularly Caribbean resonance: these protests are rooted in the region’s ongoing battle against racial capitalism, a system in which colonialism and racism are not byproducts of capitalism but its very foundations.
Colonial Structures and Economic Dependency
In Martinique, racial capitalism and dependency take multiple forms. At the core of the high cost of living is the disproportionate concentration of land and economic power among the béké elite—white descendants of the island’s European colonists. Representing less than 1% of Martinique’s population, békés control the vast majority of agricultural land, food processing, import-export businesses, and retail. The economic effect of this quasi-monopoly is intensified by transportation costs from Europe and the enduring burden of 17th-century dock dues, which inflate the cost of imported goods.
Structural factors deepen this dependency. The colonial-era shift toward sugar and later banana monocropping has left the island’s economy vulnerable, while widespread environmental contamination—specifically chlordecone contamination—compounds the crisis. This carcinogenic pesticide, extensively used on banana plantations owned by the béké elite, has rendered approximately 40% of Martinique’s agricultural land toxic. These intertwined issues create a vicious cycle, trapping the island in what Édouard Glissant described as an économie prétexte: an artificial economy reliant on subsidies and incapable of sustaining itself.
The struggle to achieve greater food self-sufficiency intensifies reliance on expensive imports, worsening economic hardship and precarity for a population where more than one-third lives below the poverty line. These dynamics underline how Martinique’s economic and social struggles remain inextricably tied to colonial legacies that persist in shaping daily life on the island. Without substantive change, the French Caribbean faces continued cycles of dependency and dispossession, echoing author Patrick Chamoiseau’s grim warning of a future mired in tragedy.
Vie Chère Protests: A New Wave of Resistance and Repression
The Vie Chère protests represent the latest chapter in Martinique’s enduring struggle against colonial and neocolonial systems of exploitation. This movement comes fifteen years after the 2009 general strike that brought Martinique and Guadeloupe to a standstill for nearly six weeks. The strike, led by Liyannaj Kont Pwofitasyon (LKP)—a coalition of Guadeloupean trade unions and social organizations—pursued a radical vision of breaking free from the colonial economic model by advocating for self-sufficiency and local industry.
In contrast, the Rally for the Protection of Afro-Caribbean Peoples and Resources (RPPRAC), a key force in the current movement, focuses on immediate reforms such as price parity with mainland France and transparent trade policies. However, critics caution that such demands may inadvertently reinforce dependency on imported goods. Rodrigue “Le R” Petitot, leader of RPPRAC, has become a central figure in the protests. Following the issuance of demand letters to major supermarket chains calling for action by September 1st, Petitot mobilized 80,000 supporters online. When these demands went unmet, he escalated the movement, leading bold actions that progressed from store blockades and marches to a dramatic occupation of the airport tarmac aimed at preventing the arrival of police reinforcements.
The response from local and French authorities was severe. The deployment of the Republican Security Corps (CRS) to Martinique, banned from the island since their involvement in the deadly 1959 riots, underscored the colonial dynamics still at play. By November, the toll was stark: over 140 arrests, widespread commercial and infrastructural damage, and four deaths. Petitot’s own arrest and sentencing on charges of intimidation and incitement to racial hatred further illustrate the state’s attempt to stifle dissent and delegitimize protest leaders.
This mounting repression parallels global trends of shrinking democratic spaces and growing authoritarianism. From the crackdown on student protests to rising fascism worldwide, 2024 has been marked by increasing hostility toward free speech and activism. Martinique’s experience is a microcosm of this global reality, where marginalized communities face disproportionate state violence for challenging entrenched power structures.
Toward a Caribbean Solidarity
The Vie Chère protests are a powerful rallying cry to dismantle colonial legacies and demand justice—food justice, racial justice, and environmental justice. In their fight for affordable and accessible nourishment, Martinicans are also fighting for autonomy, dignity, and the right to imagine futures free from the enduring grip of colonial exploitation. On October 17th, after seven rounds of negotiations, the Prefecture, the Collectivity, and the supermarket owners reached a deal that promised a 20% cut in prices on 6,000 imported products as well as a reduction of dock dues and VAT on certain categories of products. The deal was rejected by RPPRAC, arguing that the agreement should cover 40,000 products and match conditions available in hexagonal France. Notably, the agreement has since unraveled due to the collapse of the French government. Rodrigue “Le R” Petitot, reflecting on this partial concession, declared: “Our watchword is the same: mobilization, determination. I ask you to disrupt the economy of these people who have been sucking the life out of us for centuries.” His powerful words—and his subsequent criminal conviction—highlight the profound threat these protests pose to systems of power.
Martinique’s struggle is not just about one island in a far sea. To borrow from Fijian writer and anthropologist Epeli Hauʻofa, it is a call to the Caribbean, a sea of islands, and its diaspora. Here, “island” is meant capaciously, embracing the Caribbean as a constellation of places linked by shared histories, cultures, and struggles. This includes Guyana, which, though not a physical island, stands as an English-speaking island within South America that is connected to the Caribbean by cultural and oceanic ties. Such a call compels us to confront the interconnectedness of our challenges: the violent repression of dissent, the growing threats to food sovereignty and self-sufficiency amid climate change, and the relentless squeeze of inflation and rising costs fuelled by global conflicts and antagonistic political agendas. From Toronto to Triumph, we must dismantle the corporate and political systems that have long prioritized profit over people, particularly in the realm of food production and distribution.
At the Seventy-Fourth (74th) Meeting of the Organisation of Eastern Caribbean States (OECS) Authority, convened in St. Kitts and Nevis in 2024, Martinique’s Executive Council President Serge Letchimy expressed a commitment to strengthening ties with Caribbean neighbors, paving the way for a future of regional unity and shared resilience. This is a pivotal moment for Caribbeans, both at home and in the diaspora, to unite in solidarity. Martinique’s fight offers a glimpse of the future we can build together—one rooted in justice, equity, and the shared pride of collective self-determination.