Slam poet Geraldine Baptiste’s voice reverberates with emotion as she shares the story of her “Granpapa” and the traumatic history of the Chagos Islanders. Her poetry paints a vivid picture of a vibrant community torn from their serene life on the Chagos Islands by the British government to make way for a U.S. military base. The islanders were forcibly relocated to Mauritius, a journey described in their native Creole as being treated “kouma zanimo” or “like animals.” Baptiste’s grandfather remembers the idyllic days of fishing in the crystal-clear waters of Peros Banhos atoll and gatherings by firelight, feasting on fish curry and homemade moonshine. But these happy memories are juxtaposed with the horrors of their violent expulsion in the early 1970s and the decades of poverty and exile that followed. For many, the wounds of this traumatic displacement remain unhealed, as Baptiste poignantly expresses: “Pena okenn antidot; Pou geri sa blesir; Ki ankor pe soupire” (“There is no cure for those wounds, still weeping more than half a century on”).
Mauritius is now on the brink of a historic moment as it prepares to assume sovereignty over the Chagos archipelago, a victory secured six years ago at the International Court of Justice (ICJ). The ICJ ruling found that the UK’s decolonization of Mauritius in 1968, which included the forced sale of the Chagos Islands for £3 million, was illegal. The UK is expected to pay billions of pounds in rent and back rent for the U.S. military base on Diego Garcia, and Mauritius has announced plans to manage a trust fund for the resettlement of Chagossians on two of the islands, Salomon and Peros Banhos. However, the Chagossian community feels sidelined in these negotiations, leading to deep divisions among them. Some, like Baptiste, describe the situation as a “tug of war” between those who support Mauritian sovereignty and those who cling to the hope of returning to their ancestral homeland under British rule. The pain of this internal conflict is palpable, as Baptiste laments, “We’re already a tiny community. It makes me so sad.”
The exclusion of Chagossians from the negotiating table has been a recurring theme in the decades-long struggle for justice. Karen Walter, deputy editor-in-chief of Mauritius’s L’Express newspaper, has closely followed the bilateral talks and notes that the voices of the estimated 10,000 Chagossians scattered across the UK, Mauritius, and the Seychelles “have not counted for much.” During last year’s Mauritian elections, former Prime Minister Pravind Jugnauth campaigned on the promise of “billions of rupees” in annual rent from Diego Garcia and plans to build hotels on the archipelago, but he notably made no mention of the Chagossians. His successor, Navin Ramgoolam, has criticized the previous government’s deal with the UK as a “sellout” and claims to have renegotiated an “inflation-proof” agreement with veto powers over future extensions of the 99-year lease for Diego Garcia. While Ramgoolam expresses confidence that the deal will be finalized soon, the outcome remains uncertain, particularly as the U.S. has yet to approve the transfer of sovereignty. President Donald Trump’s administration has raised concerns about potential Chinese espionage, fanned by right-wing rhetoric, adding another layer of complexity to the negotiations.
The legal battle for Chagossian rights has been long and contentious. Olivier Bancoult, leader of the Chagos Refugees Group (CRG), has spent decades fighting for the right of return in British courts. He won a landmark victory in 2000, only to see it overturned four years later amid post-9/11 security fears. After reaching a legal dead end in the UK, Bancoult threw his support behind Mauritian sovereignty, though his group continues to be excluded from official talks. He remains hopeful that resettlement plans will move forward, acknowledging that “time is running out” for the first-generation Chagossians, some of whom are now in their 90s, to see justice in their lifetimes. Bancoult believes their collective memory and testimony are crucial in holding the UK and U.S. accountable for their historic wrongs. However, not all Chagossians share his optimism. Claudette Lefade, leader of Chagos Asylum People (CAP), distrusts both the UK and Mauritius, viewing the trust fund as a British ploy to avoid proper reparations. She fears that under Mauritian rule, Chagossians will fare no better than they did under British colonialism, citing past mismanagement of funds intended to support the displaced community.
The ongoing struggles of Chagossians are evident in their daily lives. Many still live in poverty, forced to make do with corrugated iron houses in Mauritius’s coastal villages. A recent report by L’Express highlighted the dire conditions in Baie-du-Tombeau, where some Chagossians struggle to make ends meet. Against this backdrop, there is a growing “exodus” of Chagossians seeking better opportunities in the UK. In 2022, the UK belatedly offered citizenship to native-born Chagossians and their descendants, a move that has prompted many to leave. Lefade reports that two groups totaling 100 people are set to depart next month, while authorities in the UK town of Crawley, home to a 3,500-strong Chagossian community, have noted a significant increase in new arrivals. Baptiste, who remains in Mauritius, understands why her fellow Chagossians are leaving. Her own family has been split across continents, with her younger sister planning to join their grandfather in Crawley. Yet, she remains conflicted, acknowledging the UK’s role in their displacement but recognizing the practical benefits of citizenship.
Despite these challenges, the fight for justice and self-determination continues. Jamel Colin, a 46-year-old mime artist, is applying for British citizenship for himself and his 12-year-old daughter, not as an endorsement of the UK’s actions, but as a strategic move to position himself and his community for greater autonomy. He envisions a future where Chagossians can return to their ancestral homeland and assert their sovereignty as an Indigenous people. Colin’s determination reflects the resilience of a community that, despite decades of displacement and marginalization, remains deeply connected to its roots. As he puts it, “I was born in exile, but I know where I come from and who I am.” However, Bancoult warns that the window for justice is narrowing as the first generation of Chagossians ages. He fears that younger generations, born in exile, may struggle to advocate for their rights as effectively as their elders, who carry the lived experience of life on the Chagos Islands. The coming years will be critical in determining whether the Chagossian community can achieve the justice and recognition they have sought for so long.