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The Deepest Dye: Obeah, Hosay, and Race in the Atlantic World
How colonial categories of race and religion together created identities and hierarchies that today are vehicles for multicultural nationalism and social critique in the Caribbean and its diasporas.
When the British Empire abolished slavery, Caribbean sugar plantation owners faced a labor shortage. To solve the problem, they imported indentured “coolie” laborers, Hindus and a minority Muslim population from the Indian subcontinent. Indentureship continued from 1838 until its official end in 1917. The Deepest Dye begins on post-emancipation plantations in the West Indies—where Europeans, Indians, and Africans intermingled for work and worship—and ranges to present-day England, North America, and Trinidad, where colonial-era legacies endure in identities and hierarchies that still shape the post-independence Caribbean and its contemporary diasporas.
Aisha Khan focuses on the contested religious practices of obeah and Hosay, which are racialized as “African” and “Indian” despite the diversity of their participants. Obeah, a catch-all Caribbean term for sub-Saharan healing and divination traditions, was associated in colonial society with magic, slave insurrection, and fraud. This led to anti-obeah laws, some of which still remain in place. Hosay developed in the West Indies from Indian commemorations of the Islamic mourning ritual of Muharram. Although it received certain legal protections, Hosay’s mass gatherings, processions, and mock battles provoked fears of economic disruption and labor unrest that led to criminalization by colonial powers. The proper observance of Hosay was debated among some historical Muslim communities and continues to be debated now.
In a nuanced study of these two practices, Aisha Khan sheds light on power dynamics through religious and racial identities formed in the context of colonialism in the Atlantic world, and shows how today these identities reiterate inequalities as well as reinforce demands for justice and recognition.
When the British Empire abolished slavery, Caribbean sugar plantation owners faced a labor shortage. To solve the problem, they imported indentured “coolie” laborers, Hindus and a minority Muslim population from the Indian subcontinent. Indentureship continued from 1838 until its official end in 1917. The Deepest Dye begins on post-emancipation plantations in the West Indies—where Europeans, Indians, and Africans intermingled for work and worship—and ranges to present-day England, North America, and Trinidad, where colonial-era legacies endure in identities and hierarchies that still shape the post-independence Caribbean and its contemporary diasporas.
Aisha Khan focuses on the contested religious practices of obeah and Hosay, which are racialized as “African” and “Indian” despite the diversity of their participants. Obeah, a catch-all Caribbean term for sub-Saharan healing and divination traditions, was associated in colonial society with magic, slave insurrection, and fraud. This led to anti-obeah laws, some of which still remain in place. Hosay developed in the West Indies from Indian commemorations of the Islamic mourning ritual of Muharram. Although it received certain legal protections, Hosay’s mass gatherings, processions, and mock battles provoked fears of economic disruption and labor unrest that led to criminalization by colonial powers. The proper observance of Hosay was debated among some historical Muslim communities and continues to be debated now.
In a nuanced study of these two practices, Aisha Khan sheds light on power dynamics through religious and racial identities formed in the context of colonialism in the Atlantic world, and shows how today these identities reiterate inequalities as well as reinforce demands for justice and recognition.
240 pages, Hardcover
Published July 13, 2021
32 people want to read
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April 25, 2024
I speed-read this book for a paper, so my opinion of it might change depending on how I do.
I mainly chose to read this book because out of all the ones in the list, it had the nicest cover, title, and formatting. Yes, I’m superficial like that.
However, I actually quite enjoyed reading it. I thought that the structure of the book was easy to follow and allowed the reader to mentally connect between the different spiritual practices in a chronological manner, both in their separate analyses and when synthesized together.
Modes of repetition were in my opinion used quite well. I usually dislike it when authors continually repeat ideas, but Khan’s overt repetition of entire phrases served as a comparative technique rather than reiterations of the same exact thing, which I appreciated both because it didn’t descend into banality and because it laid out concise quotes in summary of the main ideas.
The slight deviation into popular culture toward the middle of the book also allowed me to reset my focus, because its content was structured more narratively rather than analytically, like the rest of the book.
Overall, this was relatively well written — I thought I caught a spelling mistake but it turned out to be deliberate. You should read this if you’re really into the plantation complex in the colonial Caribbean, unconventional religious/spiritual practices, or intersectional race relations in the Atlantic island nations.
I mainly chose to read this book because out of all the ones in the list, it had the nicest cover, title, and formatting. Yes, I’m superficial like that.
However, I actually quite enjoyed reading it. I thought that the structure of the book was easy to follow and allowed the reader to mentally connect between the different spiritual practices in a chronological manner, both in their separate analyses and when synthesized together.
Modes of repetition were in my opinion used quite well. I usually dislike it when authors continually repeat ideas, but Khan’s overt repetition of entire phrases served as a comparative technique rather than reiterations of the same exact thing, which I appreciated both because it didn’t descend into banality and because it laid out concise quotes in summary of the main ideas.
The slight deviation into popular culture toward the middle of the book also allowed me to reset my focus, because its content was structured more narratively rather than analytically, like the rest of the book.
Overall, this was relatively well written — I thought I caught a spelling mistake but it turned out to be deliberate. You should read this if you’re really into the plantation complex in the colonial Caribbean, unconventional religious/spiritual practices, or intersectional race relations in the Atlantic island nations.
Displaying 1 of 1 review