‘A deliberate poisoning': how a banned pesticide haunts the French Caribbean

The Guardian

20-03-2025

Tiburce Cléon was just a teenager when he began working in the vast banana plantations of Guadeloupe. For five decades, he toiled long hours in the fields under the Caribbean sun. Then, a few months after retiring in 2021, he was given a diagnosis that many of his colleagues had received before him: prostate cancer.
Guadeloupe and Martinique, two French islands in the Caribbean, have some of the highest rates of prostate cancer in the world. One of the culprits is exposure to an extremely toxic and persistent pesticide called chlordecone. This fine white powder was widely used at banana plantations on the islands from 1972 to 1993 to combat the banana weevil, a pest that ravaged crops.
For decades, workers and activists in the French Caribbean have fought for recognition of chlordecone's devastating health and environmental impacts. Progress has been slow, but on 11 March, a French court ordered the state to compensate 11 victims. In a region where an estimated 90% of the population has traces of chlordecone in their blood, the decision is a small step in a long fight for justice.
Throughout his life, Cléon worked with chlordecone routinely. He would use his bare hands to scatter the powder at the base of banana trees, without gloves or a mask. When it was time for lunch, he and his colleagues would bring food to their mouths with powdered-covered hands. At night, the workers would return home in chlordecone-covered clothes, washing them alongside their families' laundry.
'While I was working, I remember feeling small aches, or being light-headed. But it's when I retired that it got worse,' Cléon says. 'I went to the hospital, and the doctor told me that it was prostate cancer.'
Cléon's treatment and surgery were successful, and he considers himself lucky in his recovery. But the lifelong effects of prostatectomy, such as urinary incontinence, infertility and erectile dysfunction, can be life-altering. As a result, many of Cléon's colleagues experience shame and do not speak about their struggles publicly. 'After prostate cancer, life changes,' he says. 'Some people lose the will to live.'
Emotions run deep among the workers. Whenever the topic of chlordecone arises, there is significant anger toward those in power – the government, pesticide producers and the banana industry.
Jean-Marie Nomertin worked in Guadeloupe's banana fields until 2001. Today, he serves as the general secretary of the island's General Confederation of Labour, a union representing plantation workers. He holds the French government and banana producers responsible for this crisis. 'It was a deliberate poisoning by the state, with full knowledge of the consequences,' he says.
Records indicate that requests for chlordecone authorisation were denied as early as 1968 because of research that had already highlighted its toxicity in animals and the risk of environmental pollution. An administrative back-and-forth and several other requests eventually led the ministry to change its mind and authorise chlordecone in 1972. It would then be used for two decades.
A 2019 report from a French parliamentary inquiry acknowledged that these decisions to authorise chlordecone were 'largely motivated by the pressure exerted by economic actors', explicitly citing banana industry groups as a key influence.
Among the union's members, the feeling is sour. 'Capitalists decided that it was in their best commercial interest to bring this chemical here, even though they knew very well that it was a poison,' Nomertin says.
In a small victory for the workers in 2021, the French government added prostate cancer to the list of occupational diseases linked to pesticide exposure. A fund was established to compensate victims, and at the end of last year, 168 claims had been approved.
For some, this is too little, too late. Yvon Sérénus, the president of the Collective of Agricultural Workers Poisoned by Pesticides in Martinique, dedicates his time to driving across the island to meet with sick plantation workers. During the hour-long drive from the capital, Fort-de-France, to Sainte-Marie, endless banana plantations stretch to the horizon, a stark reminder of the industry still shaping the land and its people.
The worker Sérénus meets on this occasion is recently retired. Only 65 years old, he relies on a respirator to breathe. As they begin speaking in Creole and filling in a questionnaire, the effort quickly becomes too much for him. He points to a handwritten note on the table. It's a list of at least 10 illnesses, including 'prostate problems', that he has been diagnosed with.
The collective uses this information to help workers file for compensation, but the process feels almost insulting, Sérénus says. 'It's like a slap in the face.' Offering a few hundred dollars a month to workers who are ill, some of whom may not survive, feels inadequate to him.
Many of the workers he meets are living with various illnesses, not just prostate cancer. While research exists on other implications of chlordecone exposure, such as hormonal and heart issues, it remains too limited to expand the scope of compensation. This is another sore spot for workers, especially women, who are left empty-handed.
The impact of chlordecone extends far beyond plantation workers. The chemical also contaminated the local population through food consumption. In 2014, it was estimated that 90% of inhabitants had chlordecone in their blood.
While it was used on banana plantations, the chemical seeped into the ground across the islands. Via rivers, rain and erosion, it pollutes the environment long after use. Vegetables grow in contaminated soil; livestock graze there, and seafood in nearby fishing harbours is also affected.
Luc Multigner, a research director at the National Institute of Health and Medical Research, spent almost 20 years researching the chemical. 'Much of the previous research on other pollutants was focused on exposed workers. Here, the broader population was ultimately affected too,' Multigner says. 'The difference in exposure isn't as significant as you might think. This is what is so unique about chlordecone.'
To reduce exposure, people must avoid tainted food grown or fished locally in contaminated areas. The problem demands long-term lifestyle adjustments, and no end is in sight as chlordecone can contaminate soil for up to 600 years.
In Guadeloupe and Martinique, living off the land isn't just a habit but deeply rooted in history. Creole gardens, time-honoured across the islands, provide many families with food and medicinal plants. They are a beloved testament to self-sufficiency dating back to the islands' Indigenous populations and shaped by generations of enslaved people.
For many, this tradition remains a lifeline. In France's overseas territories, poverty is rampant, and the cost of living is high. In Guadeloupe and Martinique, where nearly a third of the population lives below the poverty line, food costs up to about 40% more than in mainland France.
To help people adapt, the government encourages them to have their soil tested for chlordecone, and provides funding to do so. If the soil is found to be contaminated, they are urged to switch to alternative methods for growing certain crops, such as using raised planters and imported, uncontaminated soil, if they can afford them.
This is a common issue in Saint-Claude, nestled in the mountains of Guadeloupe and once encircled by sprawling banana plantations. The area's rich volcanic soil, ideal for intensive monoculture, is now permeated with chlordecone.
Even there, not everyone is eager to find out if their food is contaminated. 'I know there is chlordecone in my parcel [of land], but I haven't gotten it tested yet,' says Annick Salbot-Laclef, who gardens at home. 'You can't live your life worried about everything you eat and whether there is chlordecone in it.'
Others do not share that sense of resignation, however. Over the years, several lawsuits have attempted to cast blame and demand compensation for the contamination that the local community has endured.
The lawsuit that achieved a part victory this month brought together 1,286 people from Martinique and Guadeloupe who sought compensation from the state for 'anxiety damages' – the emotional and psychological toll of fearing for their health as a result of chlordecone contamination – with those who were successful awarded up to €10,000 (£8,400) each.
'This decision is a victory. It sets a precedent for the chlordecone case and all other cases related to environmental pollution,' says Christophe Lèguevaques, the lawyer representing the plaintiffs.
The vast majority of plaintiffs received nothing, but the ruling marks a crucial step forward, Lèguevaques says. It is a sign of recognition and a legal precedent that could pave the way for more victims to seek justice.