The Tribune

By DR IAN BETHELL-BENNETT

bethellbennett@gmail.com

This past weekend, The Island House Film Festival provided a venue for the screening of many Caribbean features and short films. One film was "Cargo" by Kareem Mortimer. A deeply troubling and tragic film, "Cargo" highlights the gender biases so often ignored in the Bahamas.

In the Caribbean we hardly speak of powerful masculinities, though we do speak about powerful men and gender inequalities, hegemonic masculinity, which are usually reserved for political leaders.

In "Fragile Masculinities", I discussed the problems with hegemonic and non-conformist masculinities. We often see non-conformist masculinities as being far removed from the socio-cultural norm, but in reality they fall in line with what is expected of the non-ruling males. It is significant, though not unchallenged, that the role of masculine leader tends to be left to alpha or hyper-masculine males. In the case of colonial and postcolonial societies, this role was occupied by white masculinity, though in supposedly very understated ways.

Today, this column addresses the power imbalance and the consequent violence that tends to result from the hegemonic white master that sets the tone for all male acceptability in the post-colonies as well as in the colonies.

This is displayed in Mortimer's "Cargo". The lead male character is Kevin Pinder, a white Bahamian, who at first encounter seems a likeable though down-on-his-luck guy who looks after his family and does his best to survive in what seems an unfair mess. "Cargo" is an intriguing work that draws on a number of elements that trouble the nationalist discourse in Bahamian culture: Haitians and white Bahamians. These two extremes have almost been totally excluded from the discussion of Bahamian national identity and they tend to exist on its fringes. Significantly, to be Haitian is to be too dark to be Bahamian, though creating some consternation within the black society, and to be white is apparently not considered Bahamian. Both of these are socially "nationalistically" constructed untruths.

Mortimer picks an interesting lead character and, it seems intentionally, brings even greater national and gender dynamics to play in the film that, while being about Haitian migration to and through the Bahamas, is also about masculinity and male privilege. It really does underscore some serious power asymmetries that are never addressed in society, but are left silent and silenced by the assumption that they are not there. Meanwhile, some of society understand that this is a real dynamic that is simply not discussed.

Mortimer troubles the discourse and the image of what is presumed normal and accepted by society when he creates Kevin Pinder, a good husband, though hardly respectable, though respected, and an abusive, dark, haunted person who has no real love for anyone other than himself. This aspect of masculinity is hardly, if ever, challenged in the Bahamian context, where many men, especially young, men are taught that they need not answer to anyone, because "they is man". As men, they are above the fray. In this case the dynamic is even more nuanced, because firstly Kevin does what he wants with whom he wants, when he wants, though he ultimately destroys everyone he claims to be saving and working hard for. This is hardly expected to be said of a 'white' male, who exists above the law, as M Jacqui Alexander puts it in her text "Not Just Any(body) Can be a Citizen". At the same time, he destroys himself, because he is "good for nothing" as his wife tells him, though there are glimmers of some humanity. These glimmers are quickly extinguished by his apparent disregard for anything expect his own hide. The disregard for humanity and especially for women is clearly articulated in Alexander's essay when she notes:

Conjugal heterosexuality is frozen within a very specific and narrow set of class relations between 'husband' and 'wife' in 'marriage', narrow because the majority of heterosexual relationships are in fact organised outside of this domain. Even while the Bahamian legislation might appear to address violence in all 'domestic' domains, its skewed emphasis on private property immediately renders it class specific. For working-class women who do not own property and are beaten by the men with whom they live this legislation offers no protection.

Mortimer ironically breaks down the stereotypical analytics allowed in the colonial space where Alexander states: identities were collapsed into bodies. Black bodies, the economic pivot of slave-plantation economy, were sexualised. Black women's bodies evidenced an unruly sexuality, untamed and wild. Black male sexuality was to be feared as the hypersexualised stalker.

In "Cargo", the woman is Haitian and deeply sexualised and dehumanised. Kevin states basically to keep her filthy hands off of him, after sexual relations and touching moments together. It becomes clear that he is not what he at first appears. His masculinity is savage and unrefined. So, to draw on Alexander's essay once again:

"Laws for the governing of Negroes, Mulattoes and Indians" (Saunders, 1990:8; Goveia, 1970) made it possible for white masculinity to stand outside the law. As the invisible subject of the law, he was neither prosecuted nor persecuted.

This seems to be a tragic reality of Bahamian life and culture. Comments on Facebook during and after the fire in the Mud on Sunday demonstrate how inhumane and unhuman many people have become. Similar to Kevin in "Cargo", whose masculinity is dangerous and devious, self-serving and hegemonic, who can do as he wishes.

It is significant that Mortimer selects a white Bahamian to cast as the smuggler, given that such jobs are often classed as black jobs and also as Haitian jobs or activities undertaken by the criminal element, not a good white boy. The irony is that he may operate outside the law, but his privilege allows Kevin to destroy his community and ultimately himself.

Saliently, Mortimer's work, although about Haitian migration to and through the Bahamas, really reveals a great deal about the same Bahamian hegemonic masculinity that often goes unseen, unchecked and unchallenged; it upends a great many aspects of society and resides outside the law so that any infraction can be ignored, while black masculinity is policed to death, both literally and figuratively. Mortimer's film provides a deep and unflattering look into what we do not see.