African Unification Front
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ZUMBI: THE SYMBOL OF AFRICAN STRUGGLE IN THE FAVELAS
When one looks at the populations of Mexico and Brazil, some differences stand out. For one thing, the percentages of persons described as "Negro" or "mulatto" are higher in Brazil than in Mexico. On the other hand, when compared to the United States, Brazil and Mexico share some of the same features: ambiguity and flexibility in racial labeling, multiplicity of categories, the tendency of being selectively inaccurate in listing one's "race", more acceptance of intermediate racial categories between "white" and "black".
Yet, as indicated in Brazil by the celebrations of the death of Zumbi and recent agitation for "black" rights, problems of persons of African descent have assumed a more center stage than in Mexico. Certainly, that focus is nowhere near that of the US, where "black/white" conflict is a daily fact of life; however one gets the impression of very little African/non-African conflict in Mexico.
The granite statue of the rebel slave leader Zumbi stands in a clearing high in these green hills, a lonely tribute to a broken dream. Three centuries have passed since Zumbi commanded the Quilombo dos Palmares, the largest community of runaway slaves in the Americas. With nearly 30,000 followers, he shook the foundations of Portugal's slavery-based colonial rule.
Zumbi's Africans were defeated by 9,000 soldiers and mercenaries supported by 6 cannons. The rebellion was crushed and the runaways' towns were burned.
Today, equality remains a distant dream for millions of black and mixed-race Brazilians. And Zumbi again has become a symbol of their struggle.
"Those who say Brazil is not a racist society are denying more than 300 years of slavery," said Zezito de Araujo, a black professor of history at the Federal University of Alagoas in Maceio, 60 miles east of this mountain region.
Brazilian elites have long promoted the nation's self-image as a "racial democracy" where everyone is equal. African activists say it is nothing more than a myth that comforts the country with the largest black population in South America.
They note that although black and mixed-race people make up nearly half the population of 155 million, few hold top posts in business or government. Of 513 congressmen, only 11 are black.
An overwhelming majority of blacks live in the big-city slums known as "favelas." Most blacks are among the officially recognized 31 million illiterate and, along with mixed-race workers, routinely perform the humblest jobs, from streetsweeping to housekeeping.
Often, blacks' road to success is limited to sports or entertainment. Blacks are prominent in soccer, samba, carnival and "capoeira," a uniquely Brazilian combination of martial arts and dance.
On paper, Brazil has tough laws barring racial discrimination in areas like employment and access to stores, restaurants and public transportation. But the laws are rarely enforced, and most blacks do not have the economic, educational or political means to enforce their rights.
Araujo, the historian, says prejudice is so ingrained that many blacks agree white is better.
"In Brazil, blacks perceive themselves as inferior beings, while whites, regardless of their social or economic standing, perceive themselves as superior," he said.
This poor self-image explains, for instance, why many black Brazilians prefer to be called "moreno" (brown) or "pardo" (dark) -- or even try to pass for white.
"They try to deny their past of misery. They feel ashamed of it," Araujo said. "Individuals who are proud of being black are an exception."
They also can be asking for trouble.
Edivaldo Mendes Zulu Araujo, an architect and theater producer, recalled the time he did not answer the son of a high government official who twice called to him, "Hey, moreno."
"When I felt a hand on my shoulder I turned around and said calmly: 'I am not moreno. I am black, don't you see?' The guy got angry, saying I was arrogant and impolite and needed a lesson. He wanted to attack me. Some friends broke in and took me away."
Brazil did not abolish slavery until 1888, long after the rest of the Americas.
While figures are sketchy, historians estimate 3 million to 6 million slaves were brought from Africa to Brazil, where they toiled on sugar and tobacco plantations and in gold and diamond mines.
Life was so harsh that slaves had an average life span of seven years after arrival. Many fled to the thick forest of the Atlantic coastal hills, where they built refuges called "quilombos."
The most famous was the Quilombo dos Palmares in the Serra da Barriga, Portuguese for "belly mountains" because they resemble a man lying face up.
Accessible only from one direction, the 1,427-foot-high "belly" was an easily defended stronghold, and the quilombo grew throughout the 17th century.
Its last and greatest leader was Zumbi. Born in 1655, he was only weeks old when he was taken from his mother and given as a present to a priest, from whom he learned Latin. At 15 he joined runaway slaves in Palmares, and 10 years later became their leader.
A gifted military strategist and social organizer, Zumbi became a master of guerrilla warfare. His goal was the freedom of all slaves in the region, and his name was whispered with fear and hatred by white landowners.
In 1694, soldiers caught and tortured an aide, who led them to the leader's hideout. Zumbi fled but was caught and killed on Nov. 20, 1695.
His head was cut off and taken to the provincial capital of Recife. There it was salted and impaled in a public square, where it remained rotting "to frighten his followers who thought he was immortal," said Decio Freitas, a historian.
Rio de Janeiro observed the tri-centennial of Zumbi's death as a municipal holiday, and President Fernando Henrique Cardoso praised his memory in a speech.
But many white Brazilians sneered at the commemoration as "the day of the Negro."
Brazilian politicians were sharply critical when Pele, the black soccer star who is now the government's sports minister, recently said blacks should vote for blacks as a way to improve their lot.
Many activists are pessimistic.
"They came in the galleys, and remain in the galleys of Brazilian society," said Freitas.
Racial equality will take time and huge investments in education, housing and health that Brazil simply cannot afford now, said historian de Araujo.
"Frankly, I don't see it happening soon, within my generation or the next or even my grandchildren's," he said. "But we blacks never give up hope. Even if time runs slowly for us, we must dream that it will happen in a near tomorrow."
Both Brazil and Mexico have a legacy of slavery, but there has long been a popular impression that Mexicans are descendants of Spaniards and Indians only. Even college texts on race relations illustrate this kind of thinking. In fact, barring a specific agenda to focus on the African Diaspora, attention placed on Africans in Mexico is minimal across the board. I used a certain library software package which listed 188 recent articles written on Mexico and found no articles which had Africans as a theme.
Differences in Brazil and Mexico are more demographic and economic rather than philosophic. First, although intermediate racial categories and miscegenation were accepted both in Mexico and in Brazil, there were more Africans brought to Brazil than to Mexico (therefore a greater number to be absorbed into the population). Second, the Indian population of Mexico was more numerous, centrally located and culturally dominant than in Brazil.
Thus, instead of the Brazilian case of African/Portuguese mixtures with an admixture of Indian, the Mexican example was one of both Spaniards and Africans being absorbed into a vast Indian population. Third, slavery in Brazil was both longer and more economically important in Brazil than in Mexico, creating more and deeper emotions of master/slave, exploiter/exploited in Brazil. Fourth, although Mexican culture has elements of racism, the concept of mestizaje (the idea of the goodness of being classed as racially mixed) is more deeply rooted in Mexico than in Brazil, where the population is increasingly collectively desirous of the "white" label (a term which is both exclusionary and by nature pointed toward an ideal of being light rather than brown).
The apparent focus away from the African presence in Mexico starts with the reality of actual racial and ethnic percentages in Mexico's population. Figures from the 1990s indicate that only 0.10% of Mexico's population is Black or Negro. In 1950, only 0.4% of Mexico's population was classified as Afro-mestizo. A look at this data would lead one to the supposition that "Africans in Mexico" was and is a novelty at most, especially when compared to the overwhelming Indian and (Spanish/Indian) Mestizo catas mestizo populations grew rapidly. Since the Spanish seldom made an absolutely clear, analytical distinction between race and culture and never prohibited interracial marriage, miscegenation never encountered the obstacles it did in the North American colonies.
Fluidity, Flexibility and Ambiguity
Miscegenation is of little consequence, however, unless the society has provisions which allow for its social significance. By way of comparison, the North American colonies (as well as the United States) were the scene for miscegenation among Africans, Indians and Europeans. Because of the "hypodescent" rule, however, miscegenation between Africans and other groups has had little social consequence because, among North Americans, any African ancestry constitutes membership in the "Negro" or "Black" group.
By distilling combinations which include African ancestry into one socially relevant category (Negro, later black, later African-American), North Americans have nullified any social effect of miscegenation including Africans. Those North Americans who claim that the US is a melting pot are essentially correct except the pot is not meant to include persons of African origin.
On the other hand, the Ibero-American racial classification experience has been, for the past 500 years, an exercise in ambiguity, subjectivity, flexibility and, in many cases, outright lying. The incredible number of racial and color designations in Ibero-America boggle the mind. Starting with Hernán Cortés and his mestizo offspring, the Spanish seemed to have accepted the idea of intermediate racial groups something foreign to the North American mind. This preoccupation with intermediate racial terms was soon reflected in New Spain's population and, unlike the case of Anglo-America, intermediate racial terms included persons of African origin. Eventually, by 1570, demographic calculations became more complex. An anonymous colonial painting entitled Las Castas reflects this plethora of racial terms. Of the 16 different racial categories depicted in the painting, 13 portray persons with African ancestry.
The use of intermediate racial terms had several effects. One was that there became no solid enemy color group against which Africans (or anyone else) could fight. Individuals with dark skin were occasionally able to advance due to some (usually military) heroics.
There were always lighter-skinned never-do-wells around and the really rich people were removed from almost everyone (of any color) anyway. The second effect was an acceleration of the tendency of Africans to take on the culture of those with whom they came into contact.
For those Africans who mated with Indians and produced zamboes, this sometimes meant that they remained in their Indian communities. For those who identified with Spaniards or who were in the towns, they soon took on Iberian characteristics and absorbed much of the Indian/Spanish cultural mix which (due to the large numbers of Indians) was a fact of life.
A third result of the complexity of racial nomenclatures was an ambiguity and unwieldiness which militated against being able to instantly react to one uniformly on the basis of race. It is relatively easy for a person to develop a social etiquette for dealing with two, three or even four racial categories, but it is ludicrous to expect him, during his day-to-day existence, to create appropriate patterns of action for each of 16 or 32 different categories.
Moreover, as anyone familiar with families supposedly of the same race knows, different siblings can have different complexions and hair textures. In the multi-layered classifications eventually created in New Spain, genetic reliability by appearance became a suspect proposition at best.
Subjectivity in Racial Labeling
In addition to racial classification becoming complex, it also became elastic and subjective. For example, Aguirre Beltran noted that, by 1570, the Spanish authorities developed the practice of calling legitimate sons of Indian/Spanish unions Spanish and calling illegitimate sons of Indian/Spanish unions mestizo. Given the fact that, of all the castas in New Spain, the African, or slave casta was the lowest, people began the habit of shading racial evaluations so as to minimize African ancestry. This is why, given that laxity in identifying with Africa, it is astonishing that, in both 1570 and 1810 population estimates by Aguirre Beltran, the Afro-mestizo population was nearly as great as the Indo-mestizo population.
Leslie Rout is graphic in his assessment of the racism present in New Spain, but ironically this very racism served to skew racial classifications away from those including African ancestry and into those which highlighted Indian ancestry. African ancestry became gradually absorbed into a broad group of brown-skinned and olive-skinned persons.
In Brazil, the contradictions
Presently, Brazil and the US surpass Mexico in terms of economic prowess and overall potential. However ironically Mexico has provided an example of a country with importation of African slaves, but little problem between persons of African descent and others. The Mexicans did this not with the US-style social mechanisms of "civil rights" movements and legislation designed to force people to behave equitably but rather with miscegenation, multiplicity of racial categories and an ability to absorb Africans into the population with comparatively little difficulty. In other words, the Mexicans "out-Brazilianized" the Brazilians. Presently, it is an open question as to whether Brazil will move more toward the model of Mexico, toward the US model or remain the way it is today: a bundle of contradictions.
On April 22, Brazilian President Fernando Henrique Cardoso and his Portuguese counterpart, Jorge Sampaio, celebrated the 500th anniversary of Brazil's "discovery" by Portuguese explorer Pedro Alvaro Cabral. In the palm-lined beach town of Porto Seguro in the northeastern state of Bahia, the heads of state signed a cooperation agreement, planted a Pau Brazil tree, a native tree after which Brazil is named, and welcomed a regatta of nearly 60 vessels that had left Portugal the previous week, retracing Cabral's long voyage across the Atlantic.
The festivities were met by protests by Afro-Brazilians and indigenous Indians who staged a "counter-commemoration" of the anniversary, reminding the world of the slavery and bloodshed that accompanied Brazil's "discovery," and demanding that the Cardoso government redress the appalling socioeconomic conditions of black and indigenous Brazilians. Riot police fired rubber bullets, tear gas and stun grenades at some 15,000 demonstrators, arresting 140 protesters and injuring 8 Indian leaders clad in feathers and traditional costumes, who were rushed to nearby hospitals. Critics were quick to denounce the crackdown, saying the government will come to regret its excessive show of force -- 1,000 army troopers, 5,000 policemen, two helicopters, and two warships were deployed to contain the protests. Brazil's Federal Prosecutor has already launched an investigation into the police tactics.
The group of demonstrators included more than 2,000 black activists who demanded that the Cardoso government officially recognize the land ownership rights of Afro-Brazilians occupying communities originally founded by runaway slaves. About 3,000 such communities, maroon villages historically known as "quilombos," currently exist in Brazil, with most inhabitants living in desperate poverty and isolation.
"These people represent a segment of the Brazilian population that is determined to resist," Gilberto Leal, spokesman for the National Coordinating Committee of Black Movement, was quoted in Agence France Presse. "The state must guarantee their right to the land."
The recent unrest has reopened debates about race and racism in Brazil, a country where successive governments have proudly boasted of Brazil's peaceful racial harmony. Modern Brazil has had little history of racial strife, which makes the recent rumblings all the more notable.
"There is no national black movement in Brazil, no open racial conflict, no apparent racial tension," says Jan Rocha, a journalist who has lived in Brazil for 30 years. "Black Americans who live in Salvador say they feel much more at ease there than in the racially divided USA." According to Rocha, Brazil's history of relative racial accord stems from the specific ways in which racial identity is defined in Brazil. "One of the reasons for this huge difference between the USA and Brazil is that while in America race is defined by your ancestors – one drop of black blood makes you black – in Brazil what counts is appearance," she says. "If you look white, or whitish, then you are white. For black Brazilians it is this very blurring of racial lines that makes it so difficult to fight racism."
Brazil's 1974 census asked citizens to describe themselves, leading to a spectrum of 134 different racial categories, ranging from "bem-branca" (very white) to "bailano" (ebony); with so many variations to choose from, "black" was not considered a meaningful label to the majority of Brazilians until very recently, and partly as a result, a black consciousness movement has been slow to develop.
While this subtle, complex system of racial distinctions may seem to indicate a happy multi-hued cultural rainbow, it masks Brazil's deep-seated ambivalence about its racial heritage. In the late 1800s the country's discomfort surrounding its African heritage prompted authorities to encourage European immigration, in the hope that an influx of whites and increased intermarriage would gradually "whiten" the gene pool. "The process of whitening was invented by an injured national pride assaulted by doubts and insecurities with respect to its industrial, economic, and civilizational make-up," writes scholar Antonio Guimaraes in Racism and Anti-Racism in Brazil (1999). "It was, above all, a way to rationalize the feelings of racial and cultural inferiority instilled by scientific racism and geographical determinism of the 19th century."
In The Position Of Blacks In Brazil (1971), Brown University professor Anani Dzidzienyo describes the long-prevalent attitude: "Whiteness is better than blackness, therefore the closer to whiteness the better. The force of this opinion upon Brazilian society is completely pervasive and impacts the totality of stereotypes, social roles, employment opportunities, life styles, and what is most important, serves as the touch stone for the strict ‘etiquette' of race relations in Brazil."
Blacks in Brazil, who constitute about half of the population of 160 million, continue to suffer from discrimination, political exclusion, and material deprivation. "Blacks are almost totally absent from positions of power," the BBC recently reported, "from all levels of government, from congress, senate, the judiciary, the higher ranks of the civil service and the armed forces. Even in Salvador, the capital [of Bahia] and major slave port for nearly 300 years, where blacks make up more than 80 percent of the population, very few are to be found in government." Similarly, only around five percent of university students are black, and higher education remains the preserve of the overwhelmingly white upper and middle classes.
A 1999 study by Minority Rights Group International found that "blacks and mixed race Brazilians still have higher infant mortality rates, fewer years of schooling, higher rates of unemployment, and earn less for the same work," and that "black men are more likely to be shot or arrested as crime suspects, and when found guilty, get longer sentences." Afro-Brazilians, who disproportionately inhabit the impoverished, crime-ridden favelas (slums) of Brazil's large urban centers, are also victims of shocking police brutality. In one notorious incident in August 1993, police raided a favela in Rio's Vigario Geral area and killed 21 people, apparently in revenge for the killing of four officers by drug dealers on the previous night.
Historically, black consciousness movements have emerged to confront racial discrimination and inequality in Brazil, but most have been short-lived. In the 1970s, for example, the militant Movimiento Negro Unificado (Unified Black Movement) appeared, partly inspired by the American civil rights struggle and Black Power movement, but soon fizzled out, unable to muster sufficient popular support. More recently, groups like Geledes, a black women's organization, have taken the lead in campaigning for greater recognition and equality for Brazil's black community.
Now, debates on race and identity have taken on a new prominence in Brazilian society, and the protests for racial equality have begun to yield results. A supermarket chain in the southern state of Rio Grande do Sul recently agreed to hire blacks for five percent of jobs at all levels, a landmark case for affirmative action in Brazil. A famous samba school in Rio de Janeiro invited one hundred Angolan nationals to march down the sambadrome (a mile-long avenue used by marching samba bands during carnival competitions) with them during carnival as a protest against a police round-up of Angolans in Sao Paolo on suspicion of drug trafficking, later found to have been groundless. And black priests and bishops have braved church criticism to visit temples of the African-originated religion candomble, a fusion of Yoruba traditions and Catholicism, which has been practiced in Brazil since the 18th century.
"After 500 years, we believe that we, the colonized, have a right to speak, because we have a theology and philosophy, too," one black priest told the New York Times. While disapproving of priests who fraternize with candomble congregations, the Church has been more temperate on other issues. On April 26, for example, the Church apologized for historical "sins and errors" committed by Catholic clergy against Indians and blacks at a special Mass attended by Vatican officials.
In addition to the continuing growth of candomble, other expressions of black pride have become increasingly popular, especially among the youth. Many young people now sport T-shirts reading "100% Negro" (the word means "black" in Portuguese), and among the black youth of Salvador, the late Jamaican reggae singer Bob Marley enjoys an iconic stature as a symbol of black identity and pride. Another expression of black pride is the growing popularity of capoeira, a form of martial arts disguised as a ritual dance by Angolans brought to Brazil as slaves. And in an effort to address the under-representation of blacks in Brazilian universities, students have organized pre-university courses for black and poor students aimed at providing political education and preparation for university entrance exams. At present there are approximately 30,000 students studying at these schools, paying a minimal monthly fee. As Mofoane Odara, the only black student at the University of Sao Paolo, said in a recent issue of the magazine Caros Amigos, "What we are all doing, with more or less structure, is forming critical citizens who, upon entering university, will carry themselves very differently from the majority of white middle class students."
"Race is not found, but made and used," says Anthony Marx, a professor of political science at Columbia University who has written on race relations in Brazil. "[After abolition] Brazil constituted an informal racial order that was highly discriminatory against blacks and browns...They were eager to submerge potential racial conflict under the myth of 'racial democracy.'"
Now, as increasing numbers of Brazilians embrace a sense of black consciousness, it has emerged as a powerful political concept unifying those of African descent regardless of skin color, hair texture, or facial features. And the growing movement is debunking Brazil's myth of "racial democracy" and calling for true racial equality. At Brazil's carnival this year, one popular song was dedicated to the role of blacks in Brazil's history and ended with the refrain, "Wake up, Giant. This is your time. Go forward." It is safe to say the Afro-Brazilian giant is indeed awake. And with this awakening comes the opportunity to forge new relationships with other black communities around the world.
"There are other Africans in the Americas," says George Davis, an African American who frequently travels to Brazil. "There are maybe two or three times as many people of African descent in Brazil as in the United States. They are part of our story.
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